Disclaimer: I don't own AMC's The Walking Dead or any of its characters, wishful thinking aside.
Authors Note #1: This is inspired by the popular "Jessie as the abuser rather than Pete" theory expanded on by Ikkleosu. Despite prevailing spoilers debunking the idea, I couldn't let this intriquing idea for a twist go so easily. Please use your discretion while reading, this story deals with some heavy subject material. – The second chapter and third chapters are told in Eric's perspective.
Warnings: Spoilers for all the ASZ episodes. Follows the idea of fitting into canon as a 'missing scene' type of fic whenever the big reveal happens. *Contains: adult language, adult content, allusions to domestic violence & domestic abuse, alcoholism, blood, violence, broken bones, physical and emotional spousal abuse, potentially triggering scenes, language and allusion to past and present abuse, after-care and a few heart to hearts.
Sleeping Sirens (a thousand curses on you and yours lest you dismiss my fears)
Chapter Two
It seemed a pretty safe thing to say that no one expected it when he hobbled to the forefront – ankle throbbing. Taking charge despite the fact that there were at least half a dozen more qualified voices in the room.
"Get him up," he ordered, voice trembling with emotion as Rick pried himself away from Pete's unconscious form – slumped in a dead faint across the bloodied rug. Crooked fingers twitching fitfully as the taller man curled into himself. Seeking safety in even the blackest of places.
"Gently," he murmured, swallowing hard. Pity and empathy clouding the words as Tobin and Reg moved forward, gingerly working Pete's layers back down to cover his bruised chest and nail-slashed hips. A herald to lost dignity everywhere as the darkened hue of new and old wounds were summarily covered by bloody cotton and white pin-stripes. "….I think he's suffered enough."
Somewhere in the background the hushed whispering had already started.
Had no one known?
Why hadn't he said anything?
How could none of them have realized?
They would have been happy to help!
Poor man! If only he'd said something!
Why had he stayed?
What about the children?
What were they going to do with Jessie?
She was their mother after all, really, what-
"He and the kids will be staying with me while you get this figured out," he explained firmly, directing the last bit to Deanna as he leaned heavily into the padded curve of his crutches. "Or for however long he likes. I don't care what you do, or how, but being in this house while- while she is still here is the last thing any of them need right now."
Deanna just nodded. Turning her gaze – equal parts piercing and conflicted - on Rick as the deputy let go of an unintelligible sound. All betrayed confusion and unmuted distress as Michonne gripped his shoulder, talking quietly.
"Lay him out in the guest bedroom, please," he instructed, watching as Reg and Tobin hefted Pete with difficulty, eventually aided by Spencer as they made for the front door - grunting at the solid weight.
He caught a glimpse of his reflection in a framed snap-shot of a Great Horned Owl taking flight from its place on the center mantle. Cheeks red and tinged with a bitter pale he hardly recognized as he wobbled unsteadily, tensor bandages trailing. Marveling at the conviction and strength that had quickly taken the place of the uselessness and uncertainty that had gripped him when Rick had burst in – yelling. Using the blunt of his fists to get his point across as Pete's body had concaved. Reducing itself down to counter-measures and self-preservation rather than answering the aggression Rick rained down on him in the form of harsh blows and accusing words.
Pete's body language had been all wrong. Twisted. Backwards. In hindsight he should have known. He'd noticed the strange way the man had been holding himself when he'd leaned down to check his ankle. Careful and brittle, like one wrong move and he'd break. He'd tried to get Rick to stop, to just wait half a moment, but-
And despite the fact that part of him couldn't find it in him to blame him, another part, just as vocal, seemed content to hold the man to his actions as his gaze fell across Rick's blank stare. Eying him down - fire-bright - as he limped towards the door. Expression laced with anger and no small measure of disgust before he let his eyes slide past. Ignoring him cleanly before turning his attention to the room at large, bringing order to the stunned and silent.
"Olivia? Could we get a few blow-up mattresses from storage? And the first aid kit, if it isn't too much trouble?" he asked, sending her a small smile as nearly every gaze in the room followed him with interest.
"Of-of course," Olivia assured, slightly breathless. Tearing her eyes away from the scene as she jingled her keys and trotted out the door. Collecting a couple of bystanders to help as she cut across the front lawn. Clearly grateful for something to do as half the crowd ambled after her.
He threw the rest of the words over his shoulder as he followed the three-man stretcher out the door. Steadfastly ignoring the way Rick was still crumpled against the wall. Muted and shocked through between the crouched forms of both Michonne and Carol like it was the only thing keeping him upright.
"Keep the kids away. They don't need to see this. Stall them if you have to. But I want to get him cleaned up a bit first."
He let the door slam shut behind him. Content to let them feel it - wallow in it – as he stepped out into the bright sunshine. He didn't feel like Pete owed them any explanations and neither did he.
Truth was, they had bigger problems.
He was nearly at the end of Mary Shelley's "Frankenstein" when Pete finally began to stir. Twitching fitfully in the sheets like a swimmer trying to break water as he bent the page to mark his place and set the book aside. But unfortunately for them both, the transition wasn't a gentle one.
Pete jerked awake like whip-lash. Like he fully expected something cruel and harsh to have crept in during the intervening moments. Hovering just out of sight to deliver some sort of hulking punishment he could neither see, nor hear despite the fact that the man cringed instinctively. Harsh breaths ringing out into the still as Pete tried to curl into himself. Only to cry out when his ruined torso negated the majority and had him scrambling for purchase across the mattress – limbs flying.
"Shhh, no-hey you're safe-you're safe," he murmured softly, careful to keep his hands up and unthreatening. Close enough to give comfort, but not close enough to be suffocating as he hummed soothingly. "It's over, you're with friends. You're safe."
For a long, tenuous second he thought the man was going to bolt. Every inch of him on point as he tried to see out of two swollen eyes. Cataloging his surroundings, the unfamiliar room, him, the door, before turning back to him, the panicked tint softening slightly. Coming back down in fractions as the man ran a shaking hand through his hair. Flakes of dried blood fluttering down like paper rain after every pass.
"Eric? What are you-….the kids?" Pete croaked, "Sam…Ron? Are they-"
"They're downstairs," he assured quickly. "Playing Clue and probably eavesdropping. So unless you're up for an invasion, I would recommend keeping your voice down," he continued, as level as possible as he sat back in his chair. Expression an open, careful neutral as Pete watched him closely – warily. Breathing slowly spiraling down to something close to normal. Easing the painful hitch of his chest as the physician pulled himself upright against the headboard – wincing.
"They're really worried about you. Olivia is on the front porch. And I don't think she's liable to be leaving anytime soon either. I wouldn't cross her, personally. I don't think I've ever seen anything more terrifying than Olivia with her back up," he shared with a smile, hoping to get a glimmer of something from the man until the frankness of Pete's reply ruined all chance of that.
"I have," Pete replied, looking away. Voice so quiet it might have been a whisper as the mid-day sun streamed through the blinds. Evidence enough that the world still turned. Whether they were ready for it or not.
And honestly, he really didn't know what to say to that.
A/N #1: Thank you for reading. Please let me know what you think! Reviews and constructive critiquing are love! – There will be one more chapter, stay tuned.
Reference: Thank you to onedayyoujustchange for vetting this story in its entirety. I hugely appreciated your professional and personal guidance on this matter.