peterick oneshots

what a time to be alive

tw just in case, there's some mentions of verbal and physical abuse so um yeah

also it's very much terrible so
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ever since the first week of his junior year, the teen has had an idea: packing up his most sacred belongings and running away. not that he had many sacred belongings: the only thing he could take was the few toys he's received as a small child, long ago, before everything went downhill.

it had been a terribly bad night filled with nightmares, a sunday night, when patrick had decided he would do it. he's grown tired of the constant reminders of his past.

on monday morning, he woke up and got out of bed like usual. he went to the bathroom connected to his room, washing his face, trying to be as quiet as possible, careful not to wake anybody up.

afterwards he grabbed his school bag, but instead of his books and notebooks, he filled it with a change of clothes and his wallet. he got dressed, put on his shoes and sneaked down into the kitchen.

once in the kitchen he grabbed a granola bar from the pantry. he's decided he wouldn't need food all that much for a while. his mother let him know clearly that he's already fat enough for eating a lot.

he looked through his bag one last time before grabbing his keys and leaving. he carefully locked the door behind himself, and took off on the road ahead of him.

the sunrise was beautiful. he walked to the local train station with beautiful pink clouds and yellow skies above him, not giving a single fuck about leaving his family, his city, his childhood home behind. he's had enough of it all.

ever since his father left them, his mother has been getting more and more abusive with every passing day. first it was a few harmful nicknames that, after only a few weeks, quickly evolved into physical abuse. for a little while it was only the occasional slap or two if his mother decided what he was doing wasn't good enough before it turned into serious beatings by the time he turned 12.

his older siblings never got any beating. oh no: they were the picture perfect children everybody wished for. it was only patrick who was always considered weird, off putting and in general a disappointment.

this was another one of the reasons he's been dreaming of running away. he was always left out, whether it was a big family gathering, or just a nice dinner somewhere, they never wanted him around. after a few years he realised they're probably better off without him.

his father left when he was only 8, and for the first few months his mother always told him he was the reason his father left. patrick never understood this, but he always just accepted it.

now he's 18, about to finish high school, or, well, he would be finishing high school if it wasn't for the fact that he's actually running away from this place.

anyways, he's already arrived at the train station by the time he finished his overthinking. he bought a ticket for the train from glenview to wilmette. it's not too long, but he decided he'd get there by morning and from wilmette he could move more towards chicago, possibly another state too in the future.

the train started a little after he bought the ticket. he fell asleep on the train ride and woke up just a little before he arrived.

once in willmette he started walking around to find a place he can just sit at and stay in peace for a while.

he thought about what he left behind and realised that, realistically thinking, nobody will miss him. he didn't have any friends who missed him. tho he did miss someone: his childhood best friend, pete.

ever since he could walk and talk, pete, the kid next door, was always his best friend. sure, pete was still 5 years older than him, but he was the only thing even slightly close to a friend. they'd play together and sometimes he'd sleep over at petes house.

petes mom always took patrick in like her own son. she knew about his parents divorce and tried to keep him away as much as possible.

it was just so unfortunate that they moved away a little after the abuse began.

patrick was still sad about losing his only friend: he never grew close to anybody after that.

in his sad walking state, as he made his way across the park he was walking through, the young blonde crashed into an older man.

"i-im sorry sir, i-" he stuttered out but as soon as he saw the mans eyes he forgot any words. patrick quickly stood up from the ground (where he was laying on top of the mysterious stranger with half his body), reaching out with a helping hand, putting in all his strength to pull the attractive brunette up.

when the man stood straight he was just barely taller than the young boy, his eyes complimenting the dark brown hair and coffee tainted skin.

patrick looked deep into the strangers eyes and after a few moments launched himself on the stranger, repeating a name he hasn't said in a long time, but his voice being muffled by the strangers shoulder.

"pete! pete! petey!" patrick repeated happily.