Chapter Thirty-eight
"Congratulations, Peter."
"What?"
Smiling but without explaining further Neal disconnected the empty syringe from the IV in the back of Peter's hand and then pulled the tape off the small loop of tubing so that he could remove the needle. A small amount of blood welled up on the back of Peter's hand which Neal offered him a cotton ball to use to stop it while he opened up a band-aid.
"I'm done with the antibiotics?" Peter asked hopefully.
"The IV ones, Taylor said that if you weren't still spiking regular fevers at this point we could switch over to an oral antibiotic." Neal explained as he placed the band-aid over the small puncture wound. "I bet it's nice to get that thing out of the back of your hand."
"Odd as it sounds some nights the IV bothered me more than my shoulders."
"How are your shoulders feeling?"
"Like they might actually heal."
"Good. This morning was the first time there wasn't any active bleeding, which has to be a good sign. We can probably start cutting back on how often we change the dressing. Can I see now, just to make sure nothing is starting to seep through?"
Peter answered by simply unbuttoned his dress shirt revealing the fact that he had put on an undershirt for the first time. In the mornings he came over after a shower just wearing pants so that Neal could redress the injuries before he retreated to his side of the apartment to finish getting dressed. So far he had always just put on a button down, several of which had been ruined by blood or infection seeping through the bandages before Neal had a chance to change them mid day. Tired of losing what little was left of his wardrobe and feeling more capable he had put on a t-shirt to help protect one of the few dress shirts that still looked halfway decent.
The simple fact that Peter was able to easily pull the shirt up and over his head spoke volumes as to how much better he was doing. Neal could recall just a week ago when Peter had been unable to reach up high enough to get a glass down from the cabinet. Peter had been with him for just under a month now, but he hadn't really started to improve until about four days ago. Which coincided with Neal having found him sitting out on the steps. Neal wasn't sure if it was just Peter finally winning the fight over the infection or if something else had changed. Whatever it was Peter had gone from barely managing to drag himself through another day to actively engaging with his surroundings.
They'd had a few good interaction and conversations before, but for the most part Peter had spent a majority of his time sitting either at the table or on the couch staring blankly into space. Over the past few days he had grown increasingly active to the point where now he was practically restless. He still needed frequent rests and he wasn't exactly chatty, but it was easier to engage him in a conversation without him losing his focus halfway through.
Three days ago he had stepped up to the book shelves in Neal's apartment and for the first time he'd actually picked out one to read himself, before Neal had chosen books for him and he'd read them like an assignment. Even more encouraging was the increasing time he was spending during the day out on the patio either with a book or just watching the city below. Although by no means truly tan he had at least lost the sickly looking ivory cast to his skin.
One of the more major changes over the past four days that Neal had noted was the length of time he spent on his own side of the house. It used to be that he was right there at the door first in the morning, and Neal had suspected even then that he had been waiting in the hall for quite some time for him to wake up and welcome him inside. At night he would sometimes stay until eleven or even midnight until it looked like Neal was about to fall asleep himself before leaving. Now it wasn't unusual to not see him until nine or ten in the morning and he usually excused himself an hour or so after dinner. Neal took it as a positive sign that Peter was becoming more comfortable with being alone in his new home. Having all but forgotten about the spyware that Mozzie had placed on Peter's computer it didn't even occur to him to see what Peter was doing with those extra hours spent alone.
Neal was still waiting for a better explanation about Renner. Peter had sounded so eager to join the con that night on the steps. However in the sobering light of day he had become more withdrawn about it. Neal wasn't pressing the issue at the moment, just like he hadn't dared ask anything about Elizabeth. Peter had just started to trust him physically, although he still jumped from time to time when Neal made a sudden move he had calmed considerably in his vigilance for any motion. He still leaned forward as though he was going to stand up every time Neal did, but he no longer actually got to his feet. Neal felt it was a good step forward for them, but no longer fearing being beaten was still a far cry from being ready to trust him emotionally.
Sitting at the kitchen table Peter still looked self conscious to have his shirt off. Despite everything that had happened he didn't like exposing the damage even if Neal was the only one there to see. Peter never spoke or really made any kind of noise when Neal was working on the cuts and now was no exception. The bandage looked clean on the outside, but when Neal pulled it away slightly to take a look at it there was one slash that was still actively leaking a clear yellowish into the absorbent dressing. The mark that ran down between Peter's shoulder blades was slower to heal, but it had also been deeper than the rest.
Taylor had explained to Neal during his first visit that the brutal laceration would have been a death sentence if Peter had stayed with Cheng since it was clear his previous owner never had any intention of getting him any medical care. At the time it had still been a real possibility that they were too late, however Peter had proven amazingly resilient. Even though the dressing would probably last until bedtime Neal changed it anyway, not wanting to take any chances.
"All done." Neal announced.
"Thank you." Peter replied quietly. He pulled his t-shirt back on quickly before getting to his feet and turning to look at Neal. "Seriously, thank you for taking such good care of me. I can't imagine anyone else at that party even attempting to help me if I had ended up owned by one of them instead."
"Don't be so sure, Peter." Neal smiled. "After all, did you imagine that I would help you when you first found yourself here?"
"No, I suppose I didn't."
"Don't give up on the entire human race just yet, Peter. We're not all monsters. You've lived in a world ruled by men who profit off you and don't care what the cost to you is. If the average person knew what Animula are put through they wouldn't stand for it."
"The Market has the world convinced that my kind don't even feel pain."
"I will admit that the Market is terrifyingly good at what it does. It doesn't help that people don't tend to want to confront things that make them uncomfortable. We walk past the homeless and make it a point not to make eye contact with them, social blindness and moral balancing are powerful human traits."
"I've noticed." Peter muttered bitterly.
"Are there any laws protecting you?" Neal asked. "They bring criminal charges against people for kicking a dog, how can there be no repercussion for what Cheng did to you? I know the Market developed collars but they can't condone life threaten violence against Animula, if for no other reason than the fact that you're their sole source of profit."
"It is illegal to strike an Animula to the point of blood or broken bone unless it is for self defense." Peter confirmed. "If I had called the Market, they would have taken me away from Cheng and fined him heavily."
"Why didn't you?"
Peter didn't answer, he just stared down at the list that ran down his arm and shook his head slightly.
"Because you fear the Market more than death." Neal answered his own question sadly. "At this point there's a good chance they'd just 'euthanize' you and take your organs."
"I don't really care what they do with most of me, but I can't stand the thought of my heart having to serve a Master after I'm gone."
Neal cursed internally at himself for engaging Peter in yet another conversation that just lead him to a dark place. It was so difficult to try and engage and help him without just ending up reminding him of how little he mattered to most. Neal had known that Peter feared the Market, but learning that Peter had actively allowed Cheng to abuse him to avoid going back still came as a shock.
"Peter, even if the Market gets your flesh they can never have your heart. Your true heart can't be taken, only given."
The sudden warm smile that brightened Peter's expression convinced Neal that at some point Peter had already given his heart away. Feeling it was best to quit while he was ahead for once Neal quickly went to change the subject. As much as he wanted to learn about Peter's past Mistress he already knew that their story had ended in tragedy of some sort. He wanted to focus on the positive as best he could right now.
"Are you feeling strong enough for a trip downstairs?" Neal asked. "There is a small garden in back that's private. It's not very large, but I think it would be a good way to start increasing your endurance."
"That's a good idea. I need to get strong enough to go back out in public if I'm going to be of any use to you. I'll be ready for that soon. I promise."
"I'm not worried, everything about you seems more alive lately." Neal smiled encouragingly. "I know being out in the city is hard on you, but I'll be with you and I promise not to use you as a glorified hat rack this time around."
"That is exactly how you have to treat me." Peter corrected seriously. "In fact I really should start calling you Master again now."
"What? Why?"
"Practice."
"A life time of calling humans Master isn't practice enough?"
"Not for me. For you."
"Me?"
"If we are going to fool anyone you need to react to it naturally."
"I do tend to freeze up when you call me that, don't I?" Neal admitted.
"Like a blue eyed deer in headlights."
"Point taken. Okay, we can practice, but please don't take it personally and you can still call me 'Neal' anytime."
"Yes, Master."
Demonstrating Peter's point Neal automatically wrinkled his nose slightly in disgust at hearing the title. Although Neal was pleased that Peter actually chuckled at his expense upon seeing his failure to act natural.
"You're right, I do need to work on this."
"You're a terrible Master, Neal," Peter said sincerely "that much I've known since day one."
"Thank you."
"You're welcome."
"Come on, let's go down to the garden."
"Yes, Master."
Neal did his best to take Peter's seemingly submissive response in stride. He knew he needed to get used to it for both of their safety, but that didn't mean he had to like it. The pair left the apartment and headed down towards the small out door garden together. They hadn't been gone for more than five minutes when Mozzie arrived. He knocked at the door, which pushed open when he did so since Neal never bothered to lock it.
"Neal? You alive?" Mozzie asked the empty room. "Hello?"
Mozzie stepped across the hall for a moment and pressed his ear against Peter's door for a moment. When he didn't hear anything he assumed that Neal had taken Peter out briefly, he had mentioned feeling a touch of cabin fever the last time they'd talked on the phone. Mozzie had come to talk about some of the detials about the gambling party as well as check in to make sure things were still going well with the unusual addition to Neal's life. He spent so much time just dropping in and out of Neal's life that he was slowing starting to feel like having someone stable in his life might not be such a bad thing for Neal.
Deciding to wait for Neal and Peter to return Mozzie helped himself to an unopened bottle of Verite La Muse 2001. Wine in hand Mozzie wandered over to the kitchen table. Spotting Neal's laptop Mozzie sat down and pulled the computer closer. He doubted that Neal had used the spyware that he had installed as he started open the folders that eventually lead to the program itself.
"No harm in just checking…"