Chapter Twenty

With Mozzie gone Neal turned back to the broken man kneeling on his floor looking like he was waiting to be executed. Far from being fearful of retribution Peter just had that unfocused look in his gold ringed eyes that Neal had once assumed was just a default mode when waiting for orders, he saw it now for what it really was: a coping mechanism. Doctor Taylor had warned him that trust wasn't going to happen over night, but Neal hadn't realized how deep the Animula's fear truly ran.

Neal wasn't worried about another attack, Peter's defeated posture told him the fight was over, however he kept back a good ten feet to keep Peter from panicking to the point of making himself sick the way he had when Mozzie walked in. He knelt down to bring himself eye level with Peter. Having zoned out to keep from having to deal with the situation Peter didn't move.

"Peter?" Neal asked gently.

Staring at a random point on the floor with his head bowed Peter didn't react to his name. Sweat was dripping from his hair and rolling off his skin as his body fought the infection in his blood with fire. Neal knew that part of the attack had been fueled by delirium, but he also realized that it had mostly been his own fault. He had already seen how terrified Peter was of the prospect of being collared and yet he'd never bothered to take the time to make sure that Peter understood that he had no intention of using the cruel device. He had even gone so far as to ignore Peter's warning about killing him, chalking it up to the rambling that came with a heavy dose of pain killing drugs.

"Peter, I didn't send Mozzie to get a collar." Neal said even though he wasn't sure he actually had his attention. "I'm sorry, I thought you heard us talking. I had him get me an AED."

Peter didn't look up but he did knit his brow slightly in confusion.

"An Automatic External Defibrillator." Neal explained. "I wanted to be able to help you in case your heart stopped."

Hearing Neal's intentions Peter just closed his eyes for a moment. Neal waited, but Peter had become a living statue once again. Neal knew from experience that the Animula could remain motionless for hours if he felt he needed to.

"Peter? Do you understand?" Neal asked looking for a response. "I'm not going to hurt you, I've never wanted to hurt you."

"...you can't let me live after what I just did." Peter said quietly.

"What you just did?" Neal questioned. "You mean choosing to not murder me when you had every opportunity and every reason to want to do so?"

"I attacked you."

"You defended yourself from a perceived threat." Neal corrected.

"It's the same thing."

"It really isn't." Neal insisted. "In any case, I forgive you."

Looking ready to collapse Peter shook his head like a petulant child.

"Peter? What's wrong?"

"I don't want your forgiveness." Peter said coldly.

"Why not?"

"Because..." Peter hesitated "because I'm tired."

"You mean you want me to put you out of your misery." Neal said sadly. "I can't help you there, Peter. I'm no more of a murderer than you are."

Peter looked honestly disappointed to hear that Neal had no intention of retaliating for the attack. Understanding his sentiment but hoping to change his mind about 'suicide by owner' Neal got to his feet and slowly approach Peter. Peter didn't flinch or look up at him in fear like he usually did when Neal got too close. He had reached a point where he had nothing left to lose and therefore nothing left to fear. Neal offered his hands to Peter to help him to his feet. Peter looked up at the offer, but he didn't look like he was even considering taking it.

"Things are going to get better. I promise. Just give me a chance to prove myself to you."

Peter sighed as though the last thing he wanted at the moment was an act of kindness. Neal started to worry that it might be too late to mend things. Peter may end up proving to be like glass, still strong when simply cracked but once shattered nearly impossible to piece back together again. Determined to at least try Neal continued to hold his hands out.

"I don't expect to earn you trust in a day," Neal added "but we need to start somewhere."

Neal found himself holding his breath while he waited for Peter to make his decision. Peter stared up at Neal, making a point to make eye contact. When Neal didn't look away Peter finally reached up and accepted the offer. Neal smiled and helped haul Peter to his feet. Once he was sure that Peter had the strength to keep standing on his own he released him. Peter's hands hadn't been as warm as Neal had fear they'd be, along with the sweat it was a good sign that the fever was breaking for now.

"Thank you, Master Neal." Peter said sounding genuine.

"Just 'Neal', and you're welcome, Peter." Neal smiled. "I can't pretend to know what you've been through in the past, but I do want to stress again that you're safe here."

Peter glanced around the small well appointed apartment before welding his eyes shut. Looking unsteady on his feet Neal reached out and put his hand on Peter's upper arm to help balance him. Jumping slightly at being touched Peter ground his teeth together as he lost some of the color in his face.

"Peter?"

"I'm going to be sick."

"Ah. Not on the antique furniture please."

Peter managed a quick chuckle, it was the first mirthful sound Neal had heard from him. Neal turned Peter around to guide him towards the bathroom. Peter had barely eaten anything in the few days that he had been with Neal, but coming down off the adrenaline of the attack was enough to turn even an empty stomach. Peter made it into the bathroom before beginning to retch up the acid that had accumulated in his stomach. Neal had a hard enough time dealing with the blood, this was a proving too be worse. Afraid he was going to end up being sick as well Neal backed out of the bathroom.

"I'm going to find you some thing clean to wear."

Neal didn't wait for a response as retreated. He knew he should probably be staying to make sure Peter didn't have another seizure, but it had been almost twenty four hours since he'd last had one. There wasn't much he could do about them any, and Mozzie had taken the AED with him in his haste to leave. Neal felt bad for having ordered Mozzie away, but he just hadn't been able to deal with him and Peter at the same time. He would call Mozzie and apologize when things settled down a bit.

Opening his front door to step across the hall Neal found that Mozzie had left the small AED outside his door. Neal picked it and opened the case before putting it on the nightstand next to the bed. Neal heard the water turn on in the shower in the bathroom and wondered if he should make sure Peter didn't fall or otherwise hurt himself. He barely had the strength to stand and Neal was a little worried about leaving him in the shower alone. However he decided that a little privacy and dignity was far more important than safety at the moment.

Going across the hall to where Peter had been staying before he fell ill Neal noticed that he hadn't really moved into the space. He had a large suitcase that contained everything he owned in this world. Opening the case Neal couldn't help but notice that there were no personal items, not a single photo or keepsake of any kind, just clothing and toiletries. Neal didn't keep many reminders of the past himself, but he did have a handful of objects that were precious to him. Even the suitcase itself didn't seem very old, there was hardly any wear on it.

"No ties to the past, no faith in the present, and no hope for the future..."

Neal was amazed that Peter hadn't attacked an owner long ago until he realized that he was probably the first one to have ever even given Peter the opportunity. Masters probably didn't sleep ten feet away from their captives, and from his his fear of collars Neal assumed he'd probably worn one for a good portion of his life which would have made it nearly impossible to lash out without instantly being struck down. Knowing basic human nature, particularly the nature of those willing to own others, Neal doubted that it took something as extreme as an attack for Peter's previous owners to use the collar's power. After finding a pair of comfortable looking pajama pants in the case Neal returned to the apartment wondering if he should even expect Peter to ever trust him.

Peter was still in the shower, he did have a few days of grime and blood to wash away, so Neal just dropped off the pants and left again. He hadn't bothered with a shirt with the condition Peter's back was still in there didn't seem to be much point. While Peter was in the shower Neal striped the bed and put clean sheet on. He wasn't sure how well blood came out of Egyptian cotton but he was hoping that they would come clean.

Neal was just starting to become concerned with the amount of time Peter had been in the shower when he heard the water turn off. Peter stepped out into the main living area in the clean pajama pants. He looked weak, but still looked better than he had over the past twenty four hours. Neal smiled at him, trying to help put the awkwardness of the attack behind them.

"Feel better?" Neal asked knowingly.

Peter just nodded, he hadn't been particularly talkative before, but he was practically mute now. There was no questioning that he was still critically ill and it had been a stressful morning.

"You'd probably better sit down before you fall down." Neal suggested.

Neal was already moving closer, suspecting that Peter wasn't going to make it to a chair. Peter made it two more steps before his knees gave way. Neal had feared that the shower would take what little strength he had left, but he had needed it. Neal lunged forward just in time to get his hands under Peter's arms to help him remain on his feet. Reaching back with his leg Neal snagged one of the kitchen table chairs with foot and dragged closer. Peter accepted the offer, turning the chair around so that he could straddle it backwards and rested his forearms on the back of the chair. Leaning forward Peter rested his chin on his folded arms.

"Thank you."

"Rest here for a second and then we can work on getting you back to bed."

Once again Peter's only response was a slight nod as he struggled to keep his eyes open. Neal looked over Peter's shoulder to see how well his back had fared during the shower. Peter had managed to peel off all of the bandaging that Neal had placed the night before, which was fine it needed changing anyway. Although the marks looked raw the skin around them looked less angry. Noticing once again how labored Peter's breathing was Neal reached out to put the back of his hand against Peter's forehead. Peter jerked away to avoid being touched causing him to growl with pain at the sharp motion.

"Sorry, I was just checking to see if you still had a fever."

"The reaction is automatic, I can't help it. Please don't take it personally."

"I don't, and I should know by now to ask permission before touching you anyways." Neal said. "Can I try to get the IV back in your hand?"

Peter unfolded his arms from the back of the chair and offered Neal his hand. Taking the motion as a 'yes' Neal went over to the table and grabbed the spare IV kit and a few packaged alcohol swabs. After a brief moment of problem solving Neal decided it was easiest to just drag the table the few feet it would take to reach Peter. Neal read through the instructions before making the attempt. Much to Neal surprise the needle slipped into the vein without any issues. He tested the access by pushing the antibiotic into Peter's blood.

"There we go. I'm going to have to replace the bandaging on your back, I strongly suggest some of the pain medication first."

"I don't need it."

"Really?" Neal asked doubtfully.

Peter proved his point by closing his eyes and quickly falling asleep for a spit second before he was woken by the fact that he started to fall from the chair. Realizing Peter couldn't stay where he was Neal offered him his hand to help stand. It was taking some getting used to but Neal was learning to let Peter make any move towards physical contact first. Taking Neal's hand Peter relied heavily on his help to get up and over to the bed to lay down. Neal figured he'd pass out instantly, but he forced himself to stay awake as he stared at the bright red mark across Neal's throat.

"Neal?"

"Yes?"

"I do want your forgiveness."

"You have it." Neal assured. "Is it too soon for me to ask for yours in return?"

"You didn't do anything wrong."

"I haven't done much right either."

"You've tried your best, you're a good owner."

"I'm not your owner, Peter, Nick Halden is."

"Nick Halden doesn't exist."

"Exactly."