On Pete's eight birthday, his father had spontaneously driven him to bike store in the Vale and bought him his first proper bike.
The bike had lacked the training wheels that the rusted piece of junk that was his old Batman bike had. It was a nauseatingly bright shade of lime green, adjusted to Pete's rather short stature and equipped with a little bell that hurt the child's thumb whenever he tried to twang the thing.
That bike had become his pride and joy and was probably the best Birthday present he had received to date. More so, it had encouraged him to be far more active, and by late summer, Pete had shed the majority of his baby chub, which his Grandmother had been somewhat sad about. He'd spent the vast majority of his time just riding around on it, humming wildly and pretending he was a many number of things, a police man or something as ridiculous as a paper boy. The possibilities were endless; Pete's imagination had, at that point been simply oozing with creativity and the innocent bliss of childhood. His parents hadn't seen him so happy in years.
It had been on a sunny Saturday afternoon, that Pete had decided to head over to the local park, his shoulder bag packed with a few tuna sandwiches that his mother had packed for him and a juice box. He'd pushed his bike the entire way there, wearing a shy smile that made the old folk that lived in his area point out how adorable the brunette looked.
Pete's happiness somewhat faded when he arrived at the park, the child having spotted a few other children hanging around the play equipment. A chubby boy with auburn hair, surrounded by a group of cronies who were all in the process of making a wimpy looking child weep. He recognized the chubby bully as Russell, managing to name all his friends bar one; Troy, Nat and Louis. The sight of the group made Pete tense, the boy covering his mouth with his beige cardigan and feigning ignorance, though it made him feel slightly ill to stand aside while they practically tortured their victim. Russell had once scratched up Pete's back bloody with a twig, though, so he wasn't too keen on the idea of intervening.
There was a few more children ignoring the situation, too, though, so Pete didn't feel as bad. A couple of similar looking girl playing tentative catch with a tall blond kid, a few older children playing soccer. There was even a boy set directly the side of the situation, a brunette donning an medical grade eyepatch, stood on one of the rusted swings, looking oddly displaced, a little distant. Though he looked threatening in appearance, Pete didn't register him as such.
The boy pushed his bike to the side and setting himself on it, riding over to the woodland that Pete was far too scared to step foot in and back to the main body of grass, humming a song about the sea that his Mother often sang when Pete couldn't sleep, or when he was a little sick. He became utterly lost in his imagination, pretending that he was in a race, the birds that were flying up ahead his only competition.
Pete was so lost in his thoughts, musings, desires, that he didn't initially notice the group of bullies approaching him, sniggering to themselves. However, he did notice their presence when he was suddenly pushed from his bike, the force of his fall audibly cracking the plastic tupperware box in his bag and forcing his juice box to explode. The bike toppled over with him, pinning his ankle and his leg to the ground, an almighty crunching sound penetrating the air. Pete let out a sharp scream, wailing, a horrible, unidentifiable pain shooting up his leg.
"I was just startin' to enjoy your singing, too, Kowalski!" Louis sniggered, the boy crossing his arms and staring down at Pete's pitiful looking form, far smaller than those of the bullies. He looked younger, most likely because of his size., The perfect victim.
"But I thought we pushed him over 'cause he was singing..." Troy responded slowly, and Louis scowled slightly, crossing his arms. Pete wiped pitifully at his face, snot and tears staining his cardigan, the apple juice having dripped from his bag and soaked the side of Pete's pants.
"M-my... I-I want my Mommy!" Pete wept brokenly, in too much pain to care that he was being bullied, the world going slightly blurry. He couldn't even push his bike from him; it was almost a dead weight.
"That's right, cry for Mommy!" Russell taunted, his friends laughing to themselves. Pete only cried harder, until he heard the sudden thump of a fist meeting a face, sharp, incoherent babbling, then the sound of retreat. The bike was pulled from him, Pete gazing up at the figure through his tears.
It was the boy he'd seen earlier, gazing down ambivalently at him. Pete sniffled, attempting to sit up but falling back onto the ground with another sob.
"Don't move." The boy commanded softly, falling to his knees and touching Pete's ankle. The boy let out a soft squeal.
"Did that hurt? I'm sorry." He didn't sound very apologetic, but Pete was comforted by his words.
"S-s'okay... T-thank you f-for..." Pete was in too much pain to finish his sentence.
"It's alright. I never liked those guys." The boy offered Pete a soft, almost devious smile, but again, it was comforting, showed good intentions.
"It's broken. I can see the bone, poking from the skin. Look." He pointed, and Pete managed to look down, letting out a yell when he spotted it, which promptly triggered another bout of tears.
"Hey, don't cry. My Mom is a doctor, so I know what I'm doing." He smiled a little more warmly at Pete , grabbing the male and hoisting him up gingerly. Pete let out another cracked sob, feeling sick to his stomach and faint. By that point, there was a small crowd that had gathered around the two.
"Is he okay, kid?" One of them asked, and the boy with the eyepatch managed a nod.
"He will be. I'm gonna take him home. Put his bike someplace safe." The child ordered, tone thick with authority. The blond who had shown interest nodded, taking Pete's bike and watching as his rescuer guided him onto his back and carried him from the park.
The stranger crossed the road with Pete on his back, not really caring that the brunette's grip was rather tight, the slight pain not bothering him in the least.
"Where do you live, kid?" He asked, his over confident stride slowing.
"U-uh... 14 C-Cherrywood G-Grove." Pete managed to stammer, the world coming in and out of focus.
"Cherrywood Grove? My Gramps lives there." The stranger responded vaguely, beginning to walk a little more surely toward his destination.
"Y-yeah... I like it... It's pretty."
"You look like the sorta kid who'd find something as dull as a street 'pretty'." The stranger snorted, and Pete scowled through his pain.
"All my neighbors... T-they have flowers and plants, a-and really nice trees. Outside their houses. So it is pretty." Pete responded dazedly.
"Whatever you say." The stranger snorted again, adjusting Pete on his back as the smaller male rested his head on his rescuers shoulder. He smelt like peppermint, and the scent lulled Pete into a state of calm.
"Y-you're my hero. I-I always thought pirates were supposed to be the bad guys, t-too." Pete mumbled vaguely.
"I'm not a... Well, maybe I am. I was actually one last Halloween. Though I didn't have this patch, then." The stranger chuckled a little airily to himself.
"Well... Y-you're like the Robin Hood of pirates." Pete practically cooed, clearly having not taken in anything the stranger had said.
"If I was Robin Hood, I would've stolen your bike and given it to the really poor kid in my class. Or just kept it for myself. As a bonus." The brunette boy responded, and for the most part, that was the end of it.
Pete finished his story, glancing up at Jimmy, who was sipping a can of soda as he listened rather intricately. The two had been sat on the sofa in the rec room for some time, as the afternoon sun had turned orange as the evening had taken over.
"And I'd almost lost all hope for this town. Jeez... Did you ever get to thank him? Or find out who he was?" Jimmy asked, tapping the side of his soda can. Pete folded his hands on his lap, shaking his head.
"Nope. I never saw him again. When he'd taken me home, my Mom asked him to wait, so she could get his address, but he left while she was calling the ambulance." Pete responded, folding his hands on his lap.
"I went back to the park a couple of times, but he never went back there, either. At least, not at the same time as me. Honestly, I don't think I would've even recognized him, I was so out of it." Jimmy took another sip of his soda, offering it to Pete, who graciously declined.
"When we started talking about scars, I didn't think you'd go so... In depth." Jimmy chuckled, and Pete smiled.
"I didn't, either. I'd almost forgot about it, though. It's nice that a memory can bring back your faith in the human race somewhat." Pete noted. Jimmy smiled, but before he could respond, a looming presence took the chance to make himself known.
"I'm glad I wasn't the only one to have their faith in humanity restored. Ah, what an adorable tale, femme-boy." Gary shot the two a faux beam, Pete frowning at him.
"Shut up, Gary." Jimmy responded somewhat tiredly.
"I always thought it was little girls that needed wannabe heroes to save them. Then again, I guess the boundary between our Petey and the opposite gender is practically non-existent." He grinned at Pete, who tensed.
"Y-you're such an ass!" Pete pushed past Gary, storming to his dorm room. Jimmy remained, his expression having softened some. The redhead reclined on the sofa, offering Gary a somewhat lazy smile.
"I didn't know your Mom was a doctor, Gary." Jimmy noted casually. Gary's smugness instantly faded, and he turned beet red, mouth hanging open for a few, long seeming seconds
"Fuck off, Hopkins." Gary spat suddenly, turning on his heel and storming from the dorm. Jimmy laughed a little to himself, throwing his can into the trash before standing to go and find Pete.