Happy punctuation Day! Sorry for such a long wait. I've had papers after papers to write (mainly for one soc. class. Ugh. And I thought being an English major was bad). But anyway here is is the next chapter and hopefully I'll be able to post more regularly again.

Enjoy.

Chapter 8

Peter was at his wit's end. This kid could not sit still. Even all the tubes and wires attached to him didn't hinder him from fighting all over the place. Keeping the kid's slick fingers away from the IV and nasal cannula were genning to be the vain of Peter's existence.

"Will you sit still!"

The boy's hand stopped midway to his nose and the other hand stopped twisting the blankets. A look of surprise covered the boy's face but fear shined through the blue orbs.

"Thank you." Peter sighed. "Now, keep your hands away from the oxygen cannula and you're IV and for the love of chocolate be still."

Fear vanished from the boy's eyes as he relaxed and let this hand fall to his lap. "But I'm bored." He dragged on the last word as only a teenager could.

"We could turn on the TV?" Peter suggested already reaching for the remote and putting down the confiscated magazine from the lobby.

Neal's face scrunched with displeasure. "There's only sports on."

Peter smiled. "Good, I'll turn on the Hockey game."

The boy let out a groan as he fell back onto the bed. "No, please no. Anything but sports please!"

Peter has to chuckle a the kid's antics. "Whats wrong with sports?"

The boy just rolled his head towards Peter and stared.

Peter smirked. "Okay no sports. But, if you try to take out the IV or cannula again I'll handcuff you."

It was the boy's turn to smirk.

For pete sake did the boy get out of cuffs for fun?

"Fine. I'll have the nurses put you in a straight jacket."

The boy's grin only broadened. However, there was something like pain quivering in his eyes.

Peter let out an amused groan. "Of course you can get out of those too."

"Sorry Peter there isn't much that can hold me anymore." Though it was said teasingly the hint of pain and fear was still there.

"Tell you what, sit still for half an hour and I'll get someone to bring you something to keep you occupied. Okay? Sound good?" Peter said taking his phone out and texting Diana.

"A half an hour?" The boy questioned skeptically.

"A half an hour." Peter repeated.

"I can try but what if I can't keep still?" Genuine worry flashed over the boy's face.

"You'll still get whatever Diana brings you and I won't do anything to you but be disappointed in you." Truth be told he'd be impressed if the kid just tried.

"Disappointed?" Neal asked confused.

"Yes disappointed."

"But, you won't do anything to me?" This seemed to be a new concept to the boy. "Or call me names, or say anything cruel or put me in-" The boy was panting now the words coming rapidly before they cut off in favor of breathing. The oxygen and heart monitor started going off.

Peter took the boy's hands in his trying to calm the boy down. "Neal, calm down. Okay? I won't hurt you, I won't do any of those things. Okay?"

Slowly the machines ceased to beep frantically and the only sound left was the sound of Neal gulping deep breaths through his nose.

"What did your father do to you?" Peter said quietly, so quietly he thought Neal would not be able to hear him. It was not the case.

The boy's blue eyes shot Peter's sending panicked arrows through them. "He never touched me. Neither of my parents did. They never gave me so much as a bruise."

It was the second time he had brought it up and something finally clicked in Peter's head.

Careful of the all wires and tubes Peter climbed into the bed next to Neal and hugged him. He knew the nurses would not be pleased with him but something told him the kid needed the kind of TLC that wires and tubes could never give.

"Neal" he said turning the boy's head so those blue eyes were once again searching his for his very soul. "They didn't need to touch you to hurt you."

The blue eyes blinked.

"Do you understand?"

A small shake of the head was all he got.

Peter sighed trying to find his words. "You ever seen a wild dog? a feral cat? or an unbroke horse?"

"I went to a rodeo once and watched the bronco busting. Does that count?"
A gentle smile spread across Peter's face. "It'll work. You remember how those horses didn't like the feeling of a person on their back?"

A quiet nod and Peter thought maybe the boy was watching that very day right then.

"Well wild horses or horses that are unbroke will buck and do all that just like the broncos you saw. But a horse that was brought up with the right training and handled everyday with loving hands will be more willing to accept the person on his back. Through the gentle touch and words from the people around him he'll learn to trust people even when one of them sits on his back. Another horse who hasn't had those hands on him, loving him up, won't be nearly as trusting of the person going to sit on him. Do you understand what I'm trying to say?"

The boy stifled a yawn. "Yeah, I think so. That no touch can be just as harmful as bad touch."

Peter nodded. "Yeah, and the wrong kinds of words can be harmful too."

When he got no reply Peter took looked down to see the boy slumped on his shoulder.

Peter smiled. That is one way he'll stay still for a half an hour.

And if fact it was just how Diana discovered them not twenty minutes later.

Dang it Neal! Why do you always end up in Peter's arms at the end of a chapter?