Thank you for all the reviews. You guys keep making my day!
Okay so to the people who keep asking about the cards and Neal's question of "did you find it yet?". It'll come up later, I promise.
Also I think I'm going to stick to just Peter's POV, maybe El's. I don't know, Neal's might get in there yet, I'm not sure.
Sorry to disappoint if you were hoping for El in this chapter. We won't be seeing her till Neal is out of the hospital and maybe seen the office once. So a few more chapters.
So what is in this chapter? Well we get more info on Neal's past and more Peter being all soft and all fatherly.
Enjoy :D
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Having shown the guard at the door his badge Peter walked into the hospital room to witness the marshal in the room push Neal back on the bed while tightly clamping a cuff on the boy's wrist effectively tethering the boy to the bed, but not without a yelp from the kid.
"Will you sit still you miserable little-"
"I believe you are supposed to make sure I put this on him correctly?" Peter said holding up the anklet making his presences known and getting the bulky marshal to stop hovering over the boy.
"Yes sir." The marshal, who was about Peter's own age, said stepping away from Caffrey.
"Alright then." Peter said putting down the bundle of clothing at the foot of the bed and looking up at Neal. "Alright Neal I'm going to need a leg."
The boy swallowed as he looked from the marshal to Peter and then to the door before looking back at Peter. Looking bashful he took his time removing the blankets around his feet.
As soon as the light was on and it beeped along with Peter's phone Peter looked to the marshal. "I believe you can leave now. Just let me get your-" Peter stopped midsentence as Neal held up the open cuffs that had been previously tethering him to the bed.
The boy smiled in mock bashfulness as mischief danced in his blue eyes and across his face.
Grabbing the cuffs out of the boy's hands the marshal left muttering "Damn Bennett's" under his breath.
Peter sighed, somewhat confused as at how the marshal knew Neal was a Bennett but he dropped it quickly after figuring the marshal was probably working on the case as well.
"So they weren't lying when they said they can't keep the cuffs on you." Peter said sitting down next to the bed.
"It's just part of my charm." The boy smiled mischievously, even with the nasal cannula on.
Peter noticed, though, the boy was rubbing his wrist. Slowly Peter took the boy's wrist and brought it closer to him for inspection. Bruises were evident on the boy's arm in the shape and pattern of fingers. On the boy's wrist its self were bruises and scrapes from the cuffs. "Are these old or new?"
Yanking his arm away from Peter the boy grumbled.
"Just tell me Neal. You won't be in trouble either way."
The boy stared at him with blue eyes that were bright, but no longer bright with fever. It took him a little while but he finally spook, quietly and genuinely bashful. "Some of both."
Peter smiled. "See that wasn't so hard was it?" He said ruffling the boy's shaggy head which only bought him a bewildered look from the boy.
"I'll be right back." Peter said, still smiling.
It didn't take long to find a nurse and explain the marshal's incompetence. He was back in the boy's room with the nurse in less than five minutes but it was enough for the boy to disappear.
Peter could feel his heart pumping as dread settled in his stomach once again.
"Neal!?"
The sound of running water could be heard before the bathroom door squeaked open revealing the boy trying to stand on one leg. "Yeah Peter?"
Relief washed through Peter. "Get in bed now." He almost growled but quickly regretted it when he saw the boy flinch back.
The blue eyes stayed hidden behind his eyelashes as he made his way to the bed, dragging the medical equipment he was connected to with him allowing Peter to see the brace on the boy's knee.
Feeling slightly guilty Peter stayed back as the nurse made sure everything was where it was supposed to be and then tended to the boy's wrist, cleaning the scraps and then wrapping it in a soft bandage.
After checking everything was in order one last time and reminding Neal (and consequently Peter as well) that his Doctor would be by to check on him in a little while the nurse left with a knowing and humored smile for Peter.
Silence overtook the room as Neal played with his splintered fingers. The exoskeleton that Peter had last seen on the boy's hand was gone and now only his index and ring finger were in splints.
"So." Peter finally relented to the silence deciding he really did need to find out about the boy's past. "Your real name is Neal George Caffrey?"
"It's what I go by." The boy said stealing a glance at Peter.
Peter sighed, running a hand over his face. Not the answer I was looking for but not a lie either. "But not your real name is it?"
The boy looked up at Peter than and stared. Emotionless.
Or so it seemed.
The longer Peter stared back the more fear he could detect in those blue eyes.
"Why don't you want to go by Neal George Bennett?"
"Why should I want to?" The boy asked seeming innocent, but the barley there hiccup in his voice betrayed him.
Peter sighed once again. "Neal, why do you go by Caffrey and not Bennett?"
The boy fidgeted. Peter let the silence do his work for him. Let the boy stew till he was boiling over.
After avoiding eye contact with Peter for a good three minutes the boy made eye contact with Peter. Bearing those wet blue eyes right into Peter's gut. "Would you? Would you want the name of the man who drove your mother to drugs and alcohol?" He laughed bitterly and triumphantly. "It was what he wanted me to call myself, what he would call me. Neal Bennett. Son." He spit the words out like they were bitter on his tong. "But he could never make me say it, call myself that. It made him so mad. So, so, so mad. Using Mom's maiden name. It was the only thing I had and he hated it!" At this point the boy was rocking in his bed, hands gripping the blankets like it was his lifeline.
"Neal, Neal calm down okay. He's not here now and he'll never be near you again if I have my way okay?" Peter said moving to the edge of the bed and holding the boy to his chest, trying to calm him down at the same time he was trying to calm himself down. Oh please let it be some uncle, not the father, please not the father.
The boy nodded against Peter's chest gasping for breath as he tried to stop from sobbing. Already tears were soaking into his shirtfront.
"But Neal, in order for me to do that I need his name okay? You have to give me his name. Who kidnapped you from your mother?" He had an idea, but he needed it cemented in order for him to do anything about it.
The boy shook his head. "He… he didn't kidnap me. He… he bought me."
Peter sighed, thinking the boy was talking about Ruitaker.
"My own mother sold me, for three measly shots of heroin, to my father." The boy huffed. You know what the crazy thing was? It was like I actually had a family then. Even if my father was a lunatic and would call me all sorts of things and sometimes lock me up it still felt like I actually had a family again." The boy stopped to sob once again.
Peter gulped.
"No familial understanding." Hughes words haunted Peter.
How could the boy have a familial understanding with a family like that?The poor boy had never been kidnapped, no he had been sold twice each time by a parent. Peter tightened his grip on the boy, rubbing his back.
"Your father, James Bennett, took you from your mother when you were 7?" He needed it clarified, spelled out.
The boy's head nodded into his chest. "Yes, James Bennett bought me, took me, from my mother when I was 7."
"Okay." Peter said taking a deep breath. "We can work with that, we'll find him, keep him away from you."
The boy snorted as he shifted to look up at Peter. "He's been running from the law since I was three. What makes you think you'll be able to catch him know?"
Peter smiled, wiping a tear off the boy's cheek. "Because we have you now."
._.
Now I can go back to writing my paper on American mating styles (this class on the family is going to kill me!)