Remember

IX

Pete kept his word.

He stays with Patrick as they walk back into the hospital. Patrick clutches the painting to his torso, black paint staining his shirt and pants.

"Wait here, okay? I'm going to go find your parents."

"No," Patrick whines. "They're going to yell at me, please stay," He grabs Pete's hand.

"It's okay, Patrick," Pete assures. "I'll be right back."

Patrick nods slowly, watching Pete leave. He grips the bedsheets, staring at the paint on his clothes. He wants to change them.

"Patrick!" His mother shrieks, running at him with her arms open. She showers him in kisses and hugs, later joined by his father.

Patrick only indulges in their love when his eyes catch on Pete. His closes his eyes and apologizes profusely. They shake their heads. They say they'll talk about it later.

Patrick's thankfully for that.

"Thank you for finding him," Patrick's father smiles to Pete, pulling the teen into a brief hug. Patrick's mother hugs him longer.

Pete plops next to Patrick just as the doctors and nurses walk in. They announce the missing patient has been found over the loudspeaker as Patrick is scolded.

The pale hand grips Pete's, and blue eyes often peek over at him. Pete offers a squeeze and a smile, mouthing for him to pay attention.

Patrick doesn't. He focuses on the paint splotches and the way that if he stretches his foot, he could touch the tip of his toe to the cold tiled floor.

"Never again, okay?" The doctor frowns.

"Okay," Patrick nods.

Pete wonders why they say this to him like he'll know for future days. He won't. He'll go searching if he loses Pete again. But he still flashes a smile to the doctor as he leaves.

"Can I change?" Patrick asks once the doctors and nurses leave.

"Go ahead, honey, we'll leave the room," His mother says, standing with her father.

"Pete can stay," Patrick says lightly.

His father frowns. "He won't be staying."

Pete wants to stay, but he'd rather not get on the bad side of Patrick's dad. He gives Patrick a pout before leaving.

"Where was he?" He asks Pete.

"He walked outside, holding the painting trying to find me. He wasn't too far."

"My God," His mother rubs her temples.

"He clearly remembers you enough to look for you when he hears your name," His father paces. "You need to be with him or he's going to keep running."

"Unless you don't say my name."

"I'm sure it'll come up."

"I'm done," Patrick stands in his doorway.

Everyone turns to him with fake smiles. Patrick doesn't smile back, he has to know they were talking about him. His fingers twist into the hem of his dark blue shirt. The batman pajama pants over his legs are so long that they puddle around his pale feet.

"I think there's a good Disney movie on, honey," Patrick's mother eases him back inside.

Patrick allows himself to be guided to the bed. He climbs on, looking at Pete. Pete slides next to Patrick, wrapping a secure arm around his waist.