Chapter Sixteen

"Come on, Peter, you have to wake up."

Neal carded his hand into Peter's hair to encourage him to open his eyes. When he didn't respond Neal pressed his fingers against Peter's throat to check his pulse. Taylor had warned him to keep a watch for rapid heart rate as a sign of septic shock. At the same time he'd basically said that if Peter's sepsis deteriorated into true shock that he'd most likely die within hours. Peter's heart was beating faster than Neal would like, but it was under 120 beats per minute which was a positive sign.

The vet had injected Peter with a broad spectrum antibiotic that was going to need to be repeated four times a day. He had also given him something for fever but Peter's skin was still dangerously heated. Neal looked up at the bag of IV fluids that was hanging from his headboard with the clear line that lead down to a needle that was embedded in the back of Peter's hand and secured with tape.

"You should be in the ICU at the hospital."

Laying on his stomach every breath looked as though it could easily be Peter's last. Neal noticed that the large absorbent pad that Taylor had pressed against Peter's injuries was soaking through already with a mix of blood and a clear yellowish discharge. The constant loss of fluids was the main reason Neal wanted Peter to wake up, the IV fluids could only do so much. Peter needed to be drinking on his own if he was going to survive.

Neal was nervous about changing the bandaging across Peter's shoulder, but avoiding it was just going to make things worse. Heading over to the sink Neal scrubbed his hands and pulled on a pair of latex gloves before returning to peel away the bandage. He'd already seen the damage when he'd cut Peter's shirt away, and when Taylor had been working on it, but it was still startling and nauseating to see again.

Looking down on Peter's ruined skin Neal was less sure than ever about his ability to keep the man alive. The bleeding had stopped for the most part, but the entire area across his upper back looked raw and painful. Going over to the kitchen table that held an array of medical supplies left by the vet Neal picked up one of the bottles of saline to clean up the wounds. He'd been instructed to clean and change the bandages four to five times a day and to ensure the open wound didn't dry out or become too wet. Neal had expected Taylor to stitch the wounds closed but the vet explained that they would heal better this way.

Neal brought the bottle of saline and a package of gauze back over to Peter. He barely even knew where to start the damage seemed so overwhelming. The edges of the fresh cuts were a bright angry red, the ones that had started to heal were covered in a yellow exudate. The color of the healing wounds had alarmed Neal but Taylor assured that it was actually just part of the process. Neal soaked one of the gauze pads in saline and reached out to begin cleaning the residual blood. This time Peter jerked violently at being touched. He opened his eyes but failed to really connect with the world around him. Neal stopped cleaning not wanting to startle him with what was going to be a painful treatment.

"Peter..."

"I...I'm not stealing..." Peter whimpered. "I swear..."

"Stealing?" Neal repeated. "I don't think you've been stealing."

"I just transposed the numbers in the ledger. It was an honest mistake." Peter continued barely audibly. "Why would I steal? What would I even do with the money? Please..."

Hearing the pleading tone in Peter's quiet rambling Neal realized that he was reliving some past abuse. Believing he was about to beaten for some minor transgression Peter weld his eyes shut and gripped down on the covers to brace himself. Neal put the saline and gauze down, not wanting to touch Peter's wounds while he was expecting punishment. He didn't want Peter seeing him as the enemy, being delusional Peter wouldn't be able to understand that he was trying to help.

Kneeling down to bring himself to Peter's eye level Neal reached out and brushed the back of his hand against Peter's cheek. It was instinct for Neal to try to use touch to calm Peter since it worked so well on himself. Anytime he'd ever been truly sick it had always brought him comfort when someone had been there with a gentle touch to let him know he wasn't alone. Peter didn't react as favorably to contact. Jerking away as best he could Peter snapped his golden eyes open and stared fearfully at Neal.

"It's okay, I'm not going to hurt you."

When Peter didn't relax Neal took a few steps back and held up his hands to show that he wasn't armed in any way. Managing to focus Peter watched Neal's every move carefully. When Neal was what Peter arbitrarily decided was a safe distance away he tried moving. His breath hissed across his teeth as he struggled to sit up. Neal wanted to help but he knew if he stepped closer that Peter would either lash out at him or more likely cower away. Neal was impressed that Peter was able to make it up and sit on the edge of the bed, however he was shaking violently with the effort that it had taken. Looking down at the needle in his hand Peter reached over to remove it.

"Don't pull that out." Neal said quickly fearing that he wouldn't be able to put it back. "Please, it's helping you."

Peter froze as he tried to make a decision as to if he was going to listen or not. Neal took another step back and smiled at him encouragingly. Looking disoriented Peter slowly let go of the IV line. Breathing heavily Peter looked around the apartment, not looking like he recognized any of it. Turning his attention back to Neal he lost his focus again. He shook his head to try and clear it as he winced in pain. Neal wasn't sure what to do next, Peter didn't look particularly lucid as he sat trembling on the edge of the bed.

"Peter..."

"Whatever I did, I'm sorry, I'll do better." Peter interrupted.

"No, I..."

"I just need to know what you want."

"I don't want anything. I didn't do this to you." Neal assured. "Do you remember me at all?"

Peter furrowed his brow at the question. Neal remained ready to step in if he lost consciousness again, and it looked like that was a real danger. It was taking Peter an extended amount of time to react as the fever, pain, and medications slowed his thinking. Neal waited to see if Peter could recall anything over the past two days, worrying that very little of it had been truly positive. Neal cringed slightly when Peter turned his forearm over and studied the new tattoo that was still raised and red from healing.

"Water."

"I can get you some water." Neal nodded. "In fact you need to be drinking."

"No, that's what I remember. You offered me some bottled water so I wouldn't have to drink from the sink."

"That's right."

"Master..." Peter paused as he concentrated on coming up with a name.

"Neal."

Peter nodded vacantly and suddenly got to his feet only to slowly get down on his knees. Sitting back on his heels he rested his hands in his lap and waited motionlessly.

"What are you doing?"

"You asked me to kneel."

"No." Neal couldn't help but smile. "That's my name. N-e-a-l."

Peter thought about the information for a moment before he nodded. He fought to keep his eyes open until Neal shifted his weight and then he snapped back to attention. He visibly tried to control his shaking but failed. Peter didn't look comfortable on the floor, but he clearly wasn't going to move without permission.

"You can get back up."

"I...I don't think that I can." Peter admitted.

"Can I help you?"

Peter nodded slightly but he still tensed when Neal slowly stepped closer. Neal hated being feared but he understood it. He doubted that he would be as calm as Peter was right now if he'd woken up in a great deal of pain in an unfamiliar place with a stranger who represented a group that had hurt him in the past. Rather than taking Peter by the arm to help him up he simply offered him his hands. Peter hesitated before reaching up with both hands and taking the offer.

"One, two, three..."

Neal counted to help Peter coordinate the assistance. Peter failed the first time to get all the way to his feet and they had to try again. Finally getting up he was quickly forced to sit down on the bed. Neal stayed close for a moment to make sure he wasn't going to pass out or fall over. When Peter looked somewhat steady Neal backed up again. He was quickly learning that Peter was far more comforted by being given space than anything else.

"Thank you."

"Any time." Neal smiled. "It really would be good if you could drink something."

Rather than forcing Peter to agree to being waited on Neal just turned and walked over to the fridge. Grabbing a bottle of water Neal cracked the seal on the top thinking that Peter probably didn't have to strength to do so himself at the moment. When Neal came back over Peter was pouring all of his effort and concentration into remaining upright. Neal offered him the water bottle but when he reached out for it his hand was trembling so violently that he couldn't take it.

"Here..."

Neal held Peter's wrist to help steady it. Peter was able to get his hand around the water bottle and Neal helped him guide it to his lips. Parched from the dehydration Peter drank at the water greedily. He finished about half of it before he had to stop. Gritting his teeth to keep from vomiting he automatically pushed Neal away. Neal took a step back but stayed close, Peter's skin had turned ivory pale and he doubted that he was going to stay conscious for much longer.

"Are you okay?"

"I'm fine..."

Peter had barely finished the words when he arched back as he was struck with a violent seizure. Neal dropped the water bottle and stepped in to keep Peter from falling off the edge of the bed. He didn't want Peter laying back in fear of making his back worse than it already was. Neal slipped one hand behind Peter's neck and the other around his lower back and stepped in close enough to hold him against his chest to keep him from falling either back or to the floor. Peter convulsed sickeningly in his arms for a full minute before relaxing. Once he was sure it was over Neal laid him back on the bed on his stomach. Checking Peter's pulse once again he found that it was racing out of control.

"You aren't going to make it...are you?"