Hearing Peter's distant desperate cry washed a sickening amount of adrenaline through Neal's already keyed up system as Jake forced him further down the dank hall. Peter slammed into the door behind them but apparently Jake had some way of locking it from the outside as well. Terrified as he was to be alone with Jake Neal was grateful he'd locked Peter inside the room, Sawyer had slunk off with his tail between his legs but he probably hadn't gone far and once out in the tunnels Peter would be fair game. Jake seemed to be able to keep Sawyer somewhat at bay but he doubted he could keep Peter safe once Sawyer actually got his hands on him. ( Collapse )
Trapped in the murky space between asleep and awake Neal was dragged into full consciousness by a sudden blaze of pain down his shoulder that ran a chill over his skin. After a difficult and uneasy sleep punctuated by nightmares Neal woke to find his situation barely improved from the torments of the unconscious world. Opening his eyes he panicked for a split second when he was greeted by darkness. Remembering the blindfold Neal reached up to remove it but was quickly stopped by a lance of pain. Closing his blind eyes Neal took a moment to focus on something that didn't hurt in order to help him cope with everything else that did. Still curled up against Peter Neal was grateful to be warm, recalling how violently he'd been shaking earlier. There was something about being cold that magnified any misery beyond reasonable limits. At the other end of the spectrum there was something about being warm that helped eased any pain. ( Collapse )
"Damn it, Sawyer, what the fu…" Jake stopped himself with a frustrated sigh. "What are you still doing here? You won last night, your debt paid in full. Get out. I'm tired of dealing with you and your lackeys."
NOTE: Hugs for support! Finally got to some of the 'comfort' of the hurt/comfort genera in this chapter...it does not come as naturally to me as the first part. ;)
Knowing what Peter was going to say Neal shook his head and pulled away from him slightly. Sitting on the wet concrete shower floor holding his hand protectively over his ruined shoulder Neal swallowed the bile that was burning the back of his throat as he started shivering. He had desperately asked for a break from Peter digging the glass out of his shoulder, but now that he had gotten a few minutes of reprieve he wasn't sure he had the mental strength to agree to letting him remove the rest. ( Collapse )
NOTE: Thank you all for your response, reader reaction is honestly the only guide I have as to how well a story is proceeding and has always shaped my stories and in every case has made them better.
For anyone who response Anonymously, I reply to you as well although I don't think you get notified you can go back and read my response if you so desire. :)
With his heart in his throat Neal gripped a hold of the bars that separated him from Peter to keep him from pacing and making a distraction out of himself. Standing out in the rectangular pit-like ring Peter was looking up at the crowd gathered beyond the railing above with an unreadable expression. He had according to protocol warned the spectators that he was FBI Agent and that just knowing he was here without taking action was a felony. Neal had not been surprised when Peter's statement had only been met with laughter. ( Collapse )