Peterick High School AU


5. Too Many War Wounds

(Updated! Added a few things to the chapter around the part where Pete and Patrick are sitting down talking.)

I pushed the last door open and saw her curled in a ball crying in the corner of the dark room. "Kat?" I whispered into the dark. She sniffled in reply and I flipped the light on.

"Turn it off," She said wiping the tears off her face with her palms. I quickly flipped the switch off and ran over to where she was sitting.

"Kat, are you okay?" I asked and she scoffed.

"That's a stupid question. Don't you think?"

"Yeah, sorry," I mumbled looking at nothing in particular in the dark room. "What happened?"

"I saw him." She sniffled again. "He was there, Patrick. He's here."

"What?" I asked in anger. "What does he look like?"

"He's short and has dark hair. I don't know I can't describe him." She sighed burying her face in her hands.

"Okay, it's okay. Just show me who he is." I said softly and she nodded getting up from the floor. She grabbed my hand and we made our way back to where the party was. My eyes scanned the room for anyone, but there are tons of people here that are short with dark hair.

Kat's grip tightened and she pointed at him. He was standing in the corner looking around at everyone, probably looking for his next victim. "That's him," She whispered. "Right there."

My eyes flickered between him and Kat, she was terrified. "Stay here. I'll be back. Okay?" She nodded and I made my way over to him.

I stood by him silently for a moment before he spoke. "Hey, kid."

"I'm not a kid," I said, it was definitely a lie, I'm only 16.

"Right and you're old enough to drink too I supposed," He chuckled darkly.

"Yes," I said quietly, taking in his features. He had brown eyes, tan skin, and yellowish teeth. He looked around 20 years old at the most.

He stepped closer to me which made me nervous so I stepped back a bit. "C'mon, don't be like that." He cooed. "I take both and I'm really digging you." He whispered and I gave him a dirty look. His face got closer to mine and he pressed his lips against mine.

I quickly pushed him away. "Don't touch me." I snapped and he slipped his arms around my waist. "I said, don't touch me." I pushed him away again and his grip tightened on me.

"It's okay, baby. You don't have to lie, I know you love it." He slammed his lips onto mine again and squeezed my waist tightly making me gasp, which gave him access to slip his tongue into my mouth.

I pushed him as hard as I could and he fell back a bit. "Leave me alone!" I shouted and he jumped at me, only to be met with a fist to his nose.

"He said to leave him alone, dude." The guy who punched him said angrily. He turned to me and I noticed it was Pete. "Are you okay?"

I couldn't speak so I just nodded. "Pete?" I finally managed to squeak out.

Suddenly the guy stood back up and threw a punch hitting me directly in the face. I fell to the floor and that's when I realized the music had stopped, people were staring, and Pete and the guy were rolling on the floor fighting.

Pete threw a few punches, but he received a few as well. A few minutes passed by before there were cops and others were fighting as well. I never understood how one fight caused many, but it fucking happens somehow.

When it was all over, Pete and I were at the police station in a holding cell... waiting for our parents. Fuck me. Pete and I sat in silence for what felt like an eternity, but, in reality, was only a few seconds. "Thanks," I mumbled quietly, still staring down at my feet.

"It's no problem, man." He said and I looked at him. It's the first time I actually looked at him since the fight. I came out with a black eye and he came out with a black eye, busted lip, and a cut down the side of his face.

"Oh," I gasped, "your face."

"Thanks." He said sarcastically and chuckled.

"Oh, that's not what I meant, I meant that- I- that-"

"It's cool, dude, I get it. It was just a joke." He laughed.

"I'm really sorry." I sighed, staring back down at my feet.

"It's okay, really." He said laughing again, but his laughter was cut short by a high pitched voice.

"Peter Lewis Kingston Wentz the Third!" She shouted.

"That's my mom," He whispered and sighed. "Yes, mom?"

"What are you doing in a- a holding cell?" She shouted at him as the cop with the keys unlocked the door for him go out and I cringed at how loud she was. I was glad my mom wasn't here because she would embarrass me. She wouldn't be angry at me, she would be worried if I was okay, she wouldn't even care about where I was or who I was with, just as long as I'm okay.

"Well, you see, my friend, Patrick," He started and my heart fluttered, he actually knew my name and he called me his friend, "this guy was-" He paused and looked at me while I shook my head, I didn't want his mom to know what actually happened, "this guy threw a punch at Patrick and I got into it with him."

He smiled at me as I mouthed. "Thank you."

"Well, are you okay?" She asked, "Both of you?"

"I'm fine mom," Pete said and she turned to me so I just simply nodded.

"We can wait until your parents get here so you won't be here alone waiting." His mom said. "Maybe when they know it was all out of self-defence and hopefully ignore the alcohol, I know you both drank," I looked at her in shock for a moment. How did she even know? "you could come over for dinner so I can properly meet you. Pete never really lets me meet any of his friends."

"Mom." He groaned.

"Patrick!" I heard my mom, she sounded panicked, and I let out a sigh, just as Pete had done when his mother got here. "What happened, sweetie? Are you okay?" The cop opened the door once again and I stepped out silently. She pulled me into a tight hug. "You're not hurt are you?"

"No, mom. I'm fine, just my eye." I said. "But Pete stopped the guy who was attacking me." I gestured to Pete and my mom pulled away from me and smiled appreciatively at him.

"Thank you so much, young man." She said happily and he gave me a strange look.

"Okay, mom. You can stop now." I sighed and thankfully Pete mother stepped in to talk to my mom. I went over to where Pete was sitting in the red chairs close to the door. "I'm sorry. That was embarrassing."

"No, it's just she wasn't even mad. She was terrified of you being hurt." He said, smiling a little. "That's cute." He poked my cheek and chuckled.

"Yeah, she's afraid of losing me." I looked down on my thumbs as my cheeks turned pink.

"Why? Did something bad happen?" He asked and I nodded.

"Yeah. My dad used to beat us." I took a shaky breath as the flashbacks hit me.

"Patrick, mommy wants you to go hide, okay? Can you do that for mommy?" She asked with tear filled eyes. I was only 5 when this happened. I was terrified. I nodded my head and ran to the bathroom. I crawled behind the toilet and suddenly heard a loud bang from the living room.

I was thought my mom was hurt so I quickly ran out of my hiding place only to find my mom on the kitchen floor with my dad on top of her hitting her. He punched her and her head hit the floor, her eyes locked with mine. "Run!" She said and he turned towards me.

I ran back down the hall and he was chasing me. He grabbed me by my arm and threw me on the floor. He took his belt off and hit me with it. He hit my face, my arms, my legs, my entire body.

That was one of the first times he started beating my mom and I. There were a few times before that and many times after that.

"Oh, man, I'm sorry," Pete said softly, furrowing his eyebrows a bit.

"It's okay, it's just he never wanted me." I shrugged and our moms walked over.

"Patrick, you can over to the Wentz' to eat dinner if you'd like to." My mom smiled at me and I smiled back, nodding.

"Awesome!" Pete said, excitedly and we high-fived each other.

After my mom and I said our goodbyes Pete, his mom, and I made our way to his mom's car. Pete and I sat in the backseat, me against the left door and him in the middle, as his mom drove us to their house. We sat in silence for the first few minutes of the drive before I felt a tap on my knee. I turned my head toward Pete, but he was staring straight in front of him with a blank expression. I furrowed my eyebrows in confusion and went back to staring at the window when I felt it again a little harder. Once again I looked at Pete, but he still looked the same.

Hesitantly, I removed my hand from my lap and lightly tapped his knee back. Just as I looked away again, Pete did it again. I did it back and he lifted his hand from his side and tapped my shoulder. I looked back at him and saw him still staring straight, expressionless. I smirked a little and tapped him on the side. He put his hand back down between our thighs again and poked my thigh. I did it back to him and we continued to do it until we got to his house.

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