[ work in progress ]

{9}

the next two days are a blur. pete doesn't mention the case once, but it's all patrick thinks about. the day is finally here, and patrick wants nothing more than death.

dressed in his best "stupid courtroom clothes," — pete too— he joins pete and the rest of his family in the car.

pete's too nervous to drive.

patrick's too nauseous to focus on anything.

especially pete's words. or his smell. or the soft, carefully placed kisses and gentle side and arm rubs. anything from pete that would normally calm him is entirely useless at this point.

he's too shaky with nerves. too sweaty to hold onto pete. too hot to sit without constant shifts.

"i don't want to do this." patrick whispers, the pit in his stomach only growing deeper.

"it's okay, pat."
——

actually arriving at the courthouse is definitely no better. patrick stuffs all of his pocket contents — everything that could have possibly helped calm him down— into the bin along with pete's things before following pete through the metal detector.

"he's going to be here." patrick whispers, holding tightly onto pete's arm, shaking like an angry beehive.

"it's going to be okay, honey."

patrick doesn't believe him. not this time.
——

patrick sits on the stand, doing his best to recall everything that's happened in the past seven years, and the most recent attack.

his fathers lawyer tries to twist his words, and makes patrick stumble more so over answers and recalls.

"now, isn't it true that you provoked mr. stump in this last disagreement you had?"

"n-no.. no, sir."

"please, tell me what happened. remember, patrick, you're under oath."

patrick, shaky voiced, recalls and retells the last interaction with his father.

"now, you can tell, by the story that's been retold, that my client hadn't lain a finger on mr. stump, here." the man states, gesturing wildly around the room. "that's what you said, yes?"

patrick nods, leaning towards the small microphone. "yes, but, uhm—"

"that'll be all, mr. stump."

the judge nods for patrick to go back to his seat from before.

"your honor, i would like to call my first witness." peter stands, fixing his suit.

they trade off turns, peter calling witness after witness— all telling their stories.

mr. rogers is first; he tells the court of the time he had noticed david whipping his son with his belt.

then mrs. cooper, then pete, and ms. rodriguez.

they all make a compelling case.

pictures of patrick's injuries were shown to the court. the jury gasping softly at the exhibits.

the police managed to find mr. stumps belt, but his lawyer had the evidence thrown out as "circumstantial." he states that the belt could have been from anyone's closet— despite having clear dna from david found on it.
——

finally, after a long two hours, everyone is called back to the courtroom.

"everyone may be seated." the judge's voice booms through the court.

patrick whispers something to pete, holding his hand nervously over the bench behind him.

"it's okay, i promise."

the words still don't phase him.

"has the jury reached a verdict?"

the man on the end stands, nodding.

"go on,"

he unfolds a piece of paper, reading, "on all counts of child abuse, the jury finds the defendant, david stumph..."

the room is hushed. patrick can't hear a thing, much less the decision of the jury. his vision blurs, the voices and sounds are muffled.

he feels two, large hands on his shoulders and he jumps, finding the owner of them being pete.

"what did they say?" he whispers, teary eyes staring at pete as he squeezes his shoulders.

there's a huge smile on his face as he joins patrick on the other side of the bench. "guilty." he says, holding patrick tight. "fifteen years. he's guilty on all charges."

patrick whimpers, holding pete tight, every nerve in his body pulsating with fear and anxiety.

"patrick martin, you little bastard!" david shouts, pulling away from the officers.

he doesn't get far before he's tased and dropped to the ground, twitching.

"he can't hurt you." pete whispers, holding onto the boy as he cry's softly. "not anymore."
——

once everyone is dismissed and they're allowed to go, patrick meets up with everyone outside.

pete and his family, gabe. each and every one of them embraced him in a hug. they all hold him tight and tell him how proud they are.

once patrick's had enough, he lets them know, politely asking to be let go.

"how are we planning to celebrate, baby?" pete's arm is wrapped securely around his shoulder and patrick shrugs.

"can we go home, please?" he asks, looking up at pete's parents. "and, if it's okay, can gabe come over?"

dale nods, smiling. "of course it's okay, honey."

"sweet!" gabe smiles. "i'll meet you there? i gotta go change first, though."

patrick nods, leaning into pete.

"are we ready?" pete asks, trying to get everyone on the road.
——

everyone piles out of the car, going to their respective ends of the house.

pete pulls patrick upstairs and to their room. "i'm so proud of you."

patrick just mumbles about it being over; how glad he was.

pete agrees, digging through his clothes, changing while patrick continues to look.

"don't you ever wear normal day clothes?" patrick giggles, watching pete lie back in bed, watching him, superman pajama bottoms flaring over his feet.

"nope." he smiles, and even more so, when patrick settles for a t-shirt and boxers.

while waiting for gabe, they decide to cuddle, and pete ends up sleeping, not bothering to wake when gabe arrives either.

that's okay, though, patrick can occupy gabe himself. and he does with a few rounds of call of duty. (patrick is still terrible and blames it on his cast.) then turns on grand theft auto. (gabe goes to the strip club, laughing when patrick turns away.) eventually cuddles and cartoons, soon followed by a jealous, sleep-grumpy pete who demands his patrick back from gabe.

the night eventually ends with dinner and movies in pete's room; patrick cuddled into pete's side and gabe holding a pillow, sitting at the foot of the bed.