Chapter thirty-three
Sitting at the kitchen table Peter played with the yellow rice and shrimp dish that Neal had made them for lunch. It was good, but Peter just didn't have an appetite. After the brief conversation with Neal once Mozzie had left Peter had fallen into a silence that hadn't even realize had lasted for several hours until Neal offered him lunch. Keeping track of time had never been one of Peter's strong suits, in his life there was a real advantage to just letting time slip by unnoticed. Lost in thought Peter had barely moved while his mind drifted to days past. For his part Neal had left Peter alone, seeing that he had obviously hit a nerve.
Neal wasn't the first person to ever suggest to Peter that he was human. Beyond the fact that nearly all of the trouble he'd had with owners in his life stemmed from being 'too human' Elizabeth had never accepted the idea that he was anything less or even different than she was. He had pointed out once that there was no denying that he had a grasp of math and patterns that was certainly inhuman. She had countered with the argument that savants in math, art, or music had never been considered anything other than human.
Peter hadn't argued the matter further with her, but at the same time he had never really believed in the possibility of his own humanity. Even now it really wasn't having the subject brought up that had caused him to turn in on his own thoughts for the past few hours. It was how the conversation had brought his thoughts back to Elizabeth. When he'd been struggling just to survive it been easier to distract himself from thinking about her, but as he healed and the physical pain began to fade across his shoulders the all too familiar deep ache in his chest was returning.
Picking at the bright yellow rice Peter glanced over at the laptop that Mozzie had given him. He didn't want to appear to eager to have the device so he was waiting until he would usually retreat to privacy of his own room come bed time. He knew eventually he would need to start spending more time on his own anyway. For the time being Neal didn't seem to mind having him around and he still found himself anxious when he was alone. As nice as the space Neal had offered him was, and despite the fact that the door wasn't locked, it was still a four walled windowless space that managed to trigger his primal fear of solitary. The queen sized bed and homey feel of the room didn't help as several times he'd woken in the night expecting Elizabeth to be next to him. Still half asleep he would reach over only to discover the far side of bed cold.
"Peter?" Neal asked softly.
Having not been paying attention to his surroundings for a change Peter jerked violently at the sound of his name. He glanced up quickly at Neal before automatically looking away.
"Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you."
"It's easy to do."
"I've noticed." Neal smiled slightly. "I just wanted you to know that you don't have to eat that if you don't want to."
"It's good, I'm just not very hungry."
"That's fine. I made enough that it's probably going to be dinner as well anyway. We can just put it in the fridge for later."
"Thank you." Peter said vacantly.
Still staring at the rice Peter knew he was falling back into old habits, but at the moment he didn't have the energy to do better. Neal watched him for a few minutes before putting his fork down over his own half eaten meal and pushing the plate away. Once again Peter found himself looking up, although he knew Neal didn't care Peter marveled at his own stubbornness in not learning to keep his eyes down. Neal smiled to encourage him to keep his head up and Peter suddenly found himself having a very bitter thought over the fact that for better or worse someone was always trying to retrain or recondition him. Neal saw the darkness that had fallen across Peter's expression, but he misinterpreted it.
"I'm sorry if I insulted you earlier by suggesting that you might be human, it wasn't my intent to upset you."
"It's okay, you're not the first to suggest it."
"That doesn't surprise me, you're not anything like what I expected from an Animula."
"If it's any consolation you're not anything like what I expected from a human either." Peter said.
"I will take that as a compliment."
"It is. I thought I was in serious trouble that first morning here."
"Really?" Neal asked sounding hurt. "I hope you didn't think that I was going to be as abusive as Cheng."
"No." Peter assured. "My initial fear was that you'd just sell me to the Market. I will admit that my value has taken a nose dive over the past few years, but even in my condition you still could have easily made..."
"Whoa, stop there." Neal interrupted hastily. "I'm really not comfortable with knowing what your price tag is. I don't even want to hear an estimate."
"You don't know what an Animula is worth?" Peter asked surprised.
"Never had any reason to look into it. I assume it's an impressive sum, but I think it would be healthier for us both if we not talk about actual figures. I honestly don't want to know what you're 'worth', it's a disgusting concept to put a number on your life. It doesn't matter anyway I already made a promise not to sell you at any price, and I still mean that."
"Thank you." Peter said warmly. "Even after you didn't sell me right away I still really didn't think you'd keep me more than a week, let alone care for me if you found out I was sick. I wasn't expecting a reckless con man and self-admitted remorseless criminal to also have great deal of compassion. That has to be a rare combination."
"Like you said I am a 'remorseless criminal', but I'm not a violent one. There is a big difference between not feeling guilt about stealing from the rich and not caring about people getting hurt. I go to great length to make sure no one gets injured during any of my schemes."
"You can hurt people without injuring them." Peter replied before he could stop himself.
"I suppose no crime is truly victimless." Neal admitted quietly.
"I...I'm sorry, I just...I don't understand."
"What don't you understand?"
"I always thought humans turned to crime out of necessity, but even without selling me you had to have made millions off the other items you won that night, and I'm fairly sure that night wasn't your first con. Why keep going when you've made enough to live off of for years?"
"The pieces from Cheng were worth five or six million, but what it's worth and what it sells for are two very different numbers on the black market. Once fenced with all the fees that come along with that including Mozzie's healthy cut I think it ended up being just over a million net."
"Still an impressive pay day."
"That money won't last long." Neal chuckled.
"What happens to it?"
"I don't know, I've made and lost millions over the years. It's never really been about making ends meet, its been about the art and the challenge. The money just seems to spend itself. I have expensive taste." Neal shrugged. "I mean there is like a hundred dollars worth of saffron in that rice."
Peter looked down at his barely touched meal with guilt at learning how ridiculously expensive it was. Neal saw the look and chuckled again. Peter still didn't understand Neal's drive to continue a life of crime outside of society's norm, but he decided against asking further questions. Peter would give anything to fit naturally into society as a whole, but Neal on the other hand seemed to be actively trying to separate himself from it. Before he got to his feet Neal told Peter that he could stay seated. Peter managed to stay down as Neal got up and collected up the plates to take them into the kitchen to save them for later.
Feeling awkward sitting at the table Peter turned his wrist over as he noticed a dark blood stain on his sleeve. He picked at the stain unsure of how it had gotten there. Realizing the stain was older he decided it had probably come from some previous encounter with Cheng. Between normal wear and tear, blood stains, and shirts that had either been torn open by Cheng or cut off by Neal he was quickly running out of things to wear. Walking back over Neal noticed the stain a well.
"Are you still bleeding somewhere?" Neal asked concerned.
"No." Peter shook his head. "It's an old stain."
"We need to get you some new clothes. As soon as you're feeling up to it I'll bring you to my tailor and get you measured."
"I already know my measurements. They take them at the Market."
"Maybe you knew them two years ago." Neal said as he looked Peter over. "However, I'm guessing that was a good twenty pounds ago. My guy is really good, you'll love him."
"I can't just go into a human tailor, Neal." Peter pointed out.
"Of course you can. Trust me, all it takes for such favors is money."
"I'm starting to see why you're not a 'one last score' kind of thief."
"The 'one last score' is a dangerous dream to chase." Neal smiled.
"Any con with Cheng is a dangerous game."
"You let me worry about that."
Peter took a breath to argue further, but stopped himself. He doubted that Neal could be talked out of anything once he set his mind to it. With his own future heavily dependent on Neal's all he could really do was pray that the con man was as good as he clearly thought he was. Neal looked around the apartment looking restless.
"Neal?"
"I think we should go outside," Neal announced "get some fresh air."
Peter's pulse instantly pounded in his ears at the prospect of going out in public. He glanced nervously over at the front door. Although his shoulders were better than they had been in days the cuts still throbbed painfully and robbed him of most of his energy. He couldn't imagine going out on the streets and having to keep all of his training in mind to keep from being outright harassed by passerbyers.
"I...I don't know if I..."
"Relax, Peter, I just meant stepping out on the balcony." Neal clarified. "I wouldn't make you go out into the city in your condition."
"Thank you." Peter said truly relieved.
"But are you up for a bit of sunshine?"
Peter nodded and got to his feet. Neal opened the large doors that lead out onto the patio and stepped outside. Peter joined him, automatically glancing up at the partly cloudy sky as he stepped out of the apartment. Neal lead Peter over towards the stone rail and they both leaned against it facing out towards the vista of the city. Closing his eyes Peter tilted his head back slightly and enjoyed the warmth sun on his face. The wispy clouds cleared away and the sun intensified and a genuine smile touched Peter's lips.
There had been a time in his life when being outside wasn't so enjoyable, in fact he had found it terrifying to have so much open space above him after a lifetime spent indoors. Before he had met Elizabeth he had only been outside a handful of times for very short periods of time. Since it had only been when he was being brought to a new Master he had never really looked up during those times, too afraid to make a bad impression before even entering his new home. It had taken her encouragement and amazing patience to help him over come the agoraphobia that he'd never even known he'd had. It hadn't taken long with her before he came to love being out under the blue of the sky. In a lot of ways he had never realized just how sheltered his life had been before she opened up a whole new world to him.
The clouds passed back over the sun and Peter opened his eyes again. He looked out over the city and instantly found himself staring at a distinct skyscraper in the distance. The graceful glass and steel building with curved gold highlights glittered in the mid afternoon sun putting the the others around it to shame. The jagged skyline of Midtown Manhattan had dozens of structures reaching for the sky, but none of them could match the iconic architecture of the Market. Elizabeth had summed up his own feelings about the structure one cold winter day when they had risked a trip out on the Brooklyn Promenade at sunset together.
'I hate that people think it's beautiful.'
Peter had rarely heard such pure venom in Elizabeth's voice. Unable to enjoy the spectacular colors that mother nature had painted behind the city as the sun set she had sought comfort in his embrace as she turned her back on the city. Peter had always felt that if the Market wasn't so stunning on the outside that people might look closer at what was happening on the inside. As it was the Market was a source of pride for the city as it etched a distinctive outline across the skyline making the city instantly recognizable.
Peter was pulled away from his thoughts as Neal sighed heavily. Looking over Peter saw that Neal's attention was focused towards the Market as well. A dark expression had fallen across Neal's usual bright face as he continued to stare at the skyscraper that Peter had called home for the first eighteen years of his life and what now represented his greatest fear.
"Neal?"
"I'm sorry." Neal said quietly.
"Sorry? For what?"
"That I used to think that building was beautiful."