[ work in progress ]

{8}

over the next few days, pete helps gather as much evidence as they can.

patrick provides old pictures he'd taken in case he ever had the courage to report his father.

and as devastated as pete is to see the photos, he thanks and praises patrick for being so brave as to share them.

the police offer up photos of bruises from their visit to the hospital —which wasn't many— they were sort of old from the previous fight. because luckily, pete had stopped the last one, he didn't have new bruises to share. just the broken fingers and fractured wrist he did up himself.

detective benson takes trips to possible witness houses, who gladly agree to testify. they even suggest mr. rogers, who admitted he'd seen the boy fight with his dad a few times outside.

pete hardly worries about school, wanting to do anything he could to help with the case. which involved bailing on school despite his fathers wishes and leaving patrick to go a few days alone.
——

"pete, i need you to listen to me."

pete's currently staring at printed out, blown up photos of old bruises and cuts that faded into scares by now.

he's digging through his fathers paperwork and witness statements.

"you're going to get yourself and i in trouble. you can't be looking at this!" his father tears papers from his hands. he gathers the photos. "you're going to upset yourself, too."

patrick's is currently at school, pete insists he go as to not drop his grades. he's sad, but listens to pete, taking the bus with hillary and andrew.

"dad, please—"

"you need to go to school."

"i need to look at the case files!" he tries to take his father's briefcase.

"you are not police. you are not a lawyer. you are not any type of authority, peter, you cannot be looking over any of this."

pete huffs, staring at his father with dark eyes. "the hearing is in two days. i need to familiarize myself—"

"you can't look at it. you could be in serious trouble!"

pete rolls his eyes. he couldn't care less— he wants to look over the paperwork. he needs to prepare in every way possible to make sure patrick gets the justice he deserves.

"if you won't go to school, go to your room." his father states sternly. "i have to get ready to leave."

"i need to help patrick."

"then go to fucking school with him, peter. keep him company! help him prepare emotionally for all of this. you won't be able to help him by staring at his injuries or reading over case files and witness statements."

pete knows he's right, but refuses to give the man the smug satisfaction of being right. begrudgingly, he stomps his way upstairs to his room.
——

"yeah, dads left. 'bout ten minutes ago." pete's voice is plain and annoyed and patrick is frowning on the other end of the line.

he picks at the painted walls, staring down at dirty converse he stole from pete.

"so he won't let you look at any of the papers?"

"nope." pete mutters, spinning in his chair. "what are you doing? shouldn't you be in class, pats?"

patrick nods to himself, starting to walk down a different hallway. "uh huh, but i missed you... a lot. your hoodie doesn't smell like you anymore."

pete frowns, looking down at his jeans playing with a string coming loose.