Chapter Twenty one

Peter woke to an enticing savory aroma that filled the small studio apartment. Opening his eyes he discovered that it was dark once again. The morning attack on Neal, a shower and the brief conversation had taken every last ounce of strength he'd had left for the day. In some ways he had appreciated Neal's sentiment about handing ownership over to the fictional 'Halden', but at the same time it didn't change any of the facts of what he was or the situation he was in. Peter would still have nowhere to go when Neal tired of him. However, there had been no sense in arguing the point with Neal, he would just have to deal with the uncertain future when it came.

Testing his strength Peter started the arduous task of sitting up. While he had been passed out Neal had changed the dressing across his shoulders and for the first time since he'd received the lashing the cuts were feeling like they were actually beginning to heal. Every other time he'd tried to move a sickening stabbing pain had washed over him, right now it was more of a dull throbbing.

It still took a great deal of effort to go from laying down to sitting up, and the instant he began to move Neal took notice. Putting down whatever he was working on in the kitchen Neal rushed over to help. Even though it made it harder to sit up Peter put his hand out to stop Neal from coming closer. Completely misinterpreting Peter's body language Neal reached out and took Peter's hand to help him up. Before he could protest the help Neal pulled him up to a sitting position and released his hand.

"Thank you." Peter said begrudgingly.

"Of course." Neal smiled. "You're looking better. How are you feeling?"

"I'm fine."

"I don't know why I bother asking, the answer is always the same." Neal chuckled. "Hungry?"

"Not really." Peter lied. Whatever Neal was cooking it did smell good.

"Come and try some anyway. You'll never get stronger if you don't eat."

Peter sighed quietly, knowing Neal had a point. Even just sitting on the edge of the bed talking to Neal was exhausting. A smirk touched Peter's lips at that last thought.

"A smile?" Neal asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Nothing."

"It's not nothing, it's nice to see and a good sign." Neal smiled as well. "Wait...were you thinking about how just talking to me was exhausting?"

"I was." Peter admitted. "How did you know?"

"It's the obvious joke here, and you look like you could drop at any second. However, I think you'll find getting healthier doesn't really make talking to me any less exhausting, particularly if you're trying to argue with me."

Peter shook his head with a quick chuckle. Neal smiled more brightly, encouraged by the lighthearted interaction. Peter took a deep breath to fight a sudden dizziness which managed to aggravate his shoulders. Realizing he still had a long and painful road back to health Peter sighed heavily.

"What's wrong?" Neal asked concerned.

"Nothing."

"You don't expect me to believe that do you?"

"I was so close to death...maybe you should have just let me go."

"I can understand your sentiment." Neal replied seriously. "Believe it or not I've even been there a few times myself. I hope I can prove to you that living with me is not a fate worse than death."

"I didn't mean it like that."

"I know." Neal smiled. "Have something to eat, it might improve your spirits. Do you need any pain medication?"

"No." Peter shook his head. "I would like to be allowed to get one of my shirts though."

"I'll get it for you."

Peter didn't bother to protest, he knew there was no point as Neal left. Neal seemed determined to prove that he could treat Peter as an equal, but Peter could already tell that Neal was rash and tended to think with his heart rather than his head. In the short run it was all well and good for him to play the part of a care taker, however as time wore on Neal would start to see how much work such a relationship was. Like a child with a new pet eventually the novelty would wear off and the reality of the expense and inconvenience of owning an Animula would set in.

Peter guessed that it would only take Neal a few months to realize what a liability it was to keep him around. More than just a financial drain Peter would also become an obstacle to Neal socially. Neal was young and attractive, and as soon as a woman came into his life there wasn't going to be room in the relationship for a third party. Neal simply was not the type to be able to provide him with a long term home.

"Story of my life..." Peter muttered bitterly as he glanced down at the long list etched into his arm.

Neal returned from the other side of the hall with a white button down shirt that he offered to Peter. Accepting the shirt Peter struggled for a moment pulled it on, finding his fingers usually clumsy as he worked the buttons. His back protested under the bandages at the motion for a moment before settling down. Neal went back over to the kitchen and the pot that was simmering on the stove. Using a metal ladle he filled two bowls with a vegetable heavy chicken soup and put them on the kitchen table. After bringing two glasses of water over to the table as well Neal sat down and looked expectantly over at Peter.

"Are you going to join me?" Neal asked.

"I really shouldn't."

"I won't tell anyone if you don't." Neal smiled.

"Neal, I appreciate what you're trying to do..."

"Really? This is you appreciating something?"

"I would rather you treat me like an Animula not like a human."

"Why would you want that?"

"For one thing because I am Animula, and second Because it's difficult to go back to being treated like property afterward and I was just starting to get used to it again before you came along." Peter admitted.

"Again? So you've been treated as human in the past? Would that be Eliz..."

"I don't want to talk about it," Peter said firmly "and I don't want to have to start all over again with my next owner."

"Why do you assume that there is even going to be a 'next' owner?"

"Because no one keeps me long and you have no good use for me to begin with."

"That's not true, I've got some great cons in the works that you'll be perfect for. And don't worry, I'll cut you in on the profits."

"That's the least of my concerns."

"Just come have dinner with me." Neal offered. "I spent half the day cooking, good chicken soup is more art than science."

"If I say 'no' will you make it an order?"

"Would you be happier if I did?"

"Yes."

"Fine." Neal sighed heavily. "Consider it an order."

Peter was satisfied that he had found at least a small way to keep some distance between then without alienating Neal completely. Hearing that Neal expected him to participate in a con of some sort had placed a limit on their time together. Peter couldn't imagine purposefully deceiving a human for financial profit. As soon as Neal realized that he was worthless in that respect he'd give up on this fantasy of them being able to work together.

Getting to his feet Peter had to stand for a moment to allow the dizziness to pass. He'd barely eaten anything over the past few days. As reluctant as he was to join Neal at the dinner table his mouth was watering at the prospect of eating. Stepping over to the table he turned the chair around and sat down. He looked at the odd medley of vegetables mixed in with shredded chicken, it was a fancier meal than he was used to even from when Elizabeth used to cook. Not one to stand on ceremony Neal began eating to encourage Peter to try it as well. Peter tried some of the warm broth and was surprised by the complexity of its flavor.

"Well?" Neal chuckled. "How's my cooking?"

"Very good. Old family recipe?"

"No. Rachel Ray." Neal replied. "My mother and I were always on the move when I was growing up, we mostly ate out or just made simple stuff."

"So where did you learn to cook?"

"I spent a few years in Paris a while back. I had these two Federal Agents on my tail, White Collar types, I had to keep out of New York for a while. I'd be in big trouble if they knew I was back."

"If you can get caught, why did you come back?"

"I came back for a woman. It ended up being a mistake for us both."

Peter didn't ask any more questions and Neal fell into a heavy silence. Peter watched as Neal stared at his soup suddenly not looking hungry. He had instantly lost the lightheartedness that usually surrounded him. Peter was familiar enough with the pain of loss to recognize it in someone else. With the conversation stalled the pair continued to pick at the meal in silence, lost in their own thoughts. Peter's stomach was greedy about the nutrients at first, but it quickly realized it might not be up to the task. It was frustrating to have such limited endurance, but he could feel his grip on his thoughts and his stomach slipping again. Neal looked up and noticed Peter's distress.

"Peter?"

"What was in your hand?" Peter asked suddenly.

"What? When?" Neal asked confused.

"When I first attacked you. I remember it now...I could have sworn you had a collar."

"It was the band off my hat, it was scuffed and I had plans on fixing it. I wasn't thinking when I brought it out. I wasn't trying to frighten you."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize. He who was once bitten by a snake will fear a coiled rope for ten years."

"If I lived a hundred years more I think I'd still fear that particular rope."

"Something needs to be done about the fact that collars are still legal." Neal said seriously. "Animula treatment in general needs to be changed."

"No one cares."

"I do." Neal pointed out. "You said you didn't want to be alone anymore, and you don't have to be. You've opened my eyes to the fact that Animula and humans aren't so different in just a matter of days. I don't believe this 'souless' lie for a second, sounds more like propaganda than anything else now that I've met one of you myself. Together we cou..."

"No. Don't do that." Peter interrupted, as a rising anxiety panicked him. "Don't talk to me like that."

"Like what?"

Peter forced himself up out of the chair and took a few unsteady steps back away from Neal. He could feel the edge of his vision going dark as his blood pressure dropped. Neal was already on his feet and rushing over to make sure Peter didn't fall. Trying to retreat from the human Peter backed up until he bumped into the bed. Losing his balance he just ended up sitting down. Before he could even attempt to stop him Neal helped him lay down on his side. Once down Peter tried to push Neal away but simply lacked the strength.

"Peter..."

"Do not mistake me for some one who could ever be your friend."

"The fifth rule." Neal sighed sadly. "I've basically broken the first four already, no sense in honoring the last one."

"The first four belong to the humans, you do what you want with them. The fifth belongs to the Animula, it is ours to keep and I intend to."

"No exceptions?"

"Exactly."

"So Elizabeth wasn't an exception?" Neal asked gently.

"The only one...and I ruined her life." Peter whispered.

"I don't believe that."

"...be careful, I'll ruin yours too."