AN: Thanks to Fran for beta'ing. Thanks to Gail and Mykaela for pre-reading.
Warning: This chapter contains heavy mention of drug use, child abuse, and implied abuse of various natures.
Chapter 20
It was after dark when Edward pulled his car into Bella's driveway. Peter had fallen asleep quickly after they left the batting cages. Though there were no words exchanged, he could tell something finally snapped inside of his nephew. He was close to explaining what happened to him—what caused him to leave home. But Edward knew Peter wouldn't want to talk without Bella being able to listen.
He turned the car off and sighed. He looked in the rear-view mirror, staring at the way Peter's, shorter hair had matted messily against the backseat.
He was thankful he was safe, and to be quite honest, he was afraid to hear where Peter had been for the past months. In their search, they'd investigated everywhere, or so it seemed. He looked down at his phone to press the call button. The number he dialed was a familiar one, and he wasn't sure who he wanted to hear on the other line more.
"Edward, how are you?" Esme said, answering the phone. His mother sounded wispy and tired. He imagined lines and bags decorating her face from the months of worrying.
"Uh…, I'm good, Mom. Really good, actually. Listen, do you guys have a moment? There are some things I need to explain. Are Garrett and Kate around? I've been trying to reach them for days...- "
A silence followed Edward's question.
"Um, Edward, your brother had to go away for a…little while. He's gone to Yellowbrick to get some help. He came clean to us about some stuff.
"Yellowbrick…the treatment center? Stuff…like what?"
"Edward, I know you already know. He told us you know—that you were trying to help him, and Kate stay financially stable. He told us you didn't want everyone to know they were in a stitch while they tried to work on themselves for Peter. Oh, my poor boy."
"It wasn't like I had a choice. I couldn't just..."
"I know. And I've known that from the start. Perhaps now, others will come around. Anyway, though it's lovely to hear your voice, it seems like an odd time for you to call, especially after we haven't heard from you in a few days. You used to call your father every day about…Peter." Esme said, trailing off. The sound of movement on the other line caused Edward to frown. With Peter missing, his mother had suffered as much as he did.
'Mom, I'm going to tell you something, but you need to stay calm. I was hoping it would be you who would answer…I think you'll be the first to understand, but you need to listen to everything I'm about to tell you." Edward explained carefully, glancing back into the rearview mirror. Peter was still sound asleep, "It's about Peter."
"Peter? What about him? Oh, God, did he try to contact you? If he would try to get in touch with anyone, I always thought it'd be you since the two of you were always so close. What have you got to say?" Esme answered quickly, stunned.
"He has tried to contact me. That's not all, though…he's here. In Forks. With me." Edward said slowly, keeping his eyes on the boy. His heart fluttered as the words left his mouth. Though his mother and family had bargained for a lot in their bartering with God to bring Peter home, he never expected it to work—whatever was out there, whatever crazy Fate that had brought them back together … he was thankful for it. He knew his mother would be too.
"What? Edward, did you say he's with you?" Esme cried, her voice choking, "How can that be?"
"I…uh...I'm not really sure, Mom. He just showed up. He…ran away and eventually found me out here. I'm…not exactly sure. He's been kind of scared…I've been letting him be for right now—all that matters is he's here. And he's relatively healthy—a few scrapes and bruises." Edward trailed off.
He didn't want to tell his mom the exact truth of how Peter came back into his life as he wanted to leave the Swans out of an investigation if he could. Of course, he cared about them both, more deeply than he thought he would in the short amount of time he's known them, but he didn't want to repay Bella's kindness towards Peter with any unnecessary prying into their life. It was Peter's idea, to skip the whole part about Bella and Charlotte at all. They'd tell them one day, but not now.
"Listen, Mom. Can you guys come down here? It's really important—"
"Us come to you? Why not just bring him home? I haven't seen Kate—but Garrett's on his way to..."
"I think you need to come here. Peter doesn't want to come home. He's said that more than once. And I've been trying to get in contact with Garrett and Kate for the past few days."
"Yes. We will come down. We'll get to the bottom of everything. Edward…can I talk to him?" Esme asked quietly, sniffling into the phone.
"He's sleeping…" Edward trailed off, feeling the guilt coming, "but tell you what. I'll put the phone next to his ear, and you can tell him you love him."
He reached the phone around, pressing it gently to Peter's ear so as not to wake him. He smiled as he heard the quiet muffles from the phone; Esme wishing her newly found grandson sweet whisperings and dreams.
The next morning, the house was less one person. Charlotte had been picked up earlier in the morning to spend the day with her aunt. One of Peter's conditions to talking was that she not be here. He loved her dearly and didn't want to scare her or want her to think any different of him for what he was about to share with his uncle and her mom.
After a quick breakfast, the boy moved to the chair in the living room. Bella and Edward followed, sitting close together on the loveseat. Their hands were lightly joined behind the pillow in the center of the couch.
The tension in the room was thick enough to cut.
"All right, Peter. I think it's time we have this talk. You said it yesterday, and don't you think we owe Bella and Charlotte an explanation? I thought things were getting better, kid. Your dad..." Edward started, attempting to ease his nephew into the idea of talking.
"No, don't say anything about him. I'll talk, but he's the reason I ran. Well, her…mostly, but he didn't do anything to stop it." Peter said.
"Okay, Peter," Edward said, trailing off and staring at the floor. He wasn't sure he wanted to hear this … or if he could hear this. He knew about Kate and Garrett's drug use…but what else was there? He couldn't even stomach the thought as it attempted to crawl into his mind. "The floor is yours."
"And, remember, you can't get mad at me, Uncle E. The only good thing in my life was moving far away. I had to do it—leaving was the only thing I had left, I had to do it."
"I'm not going to get mad at you, kid...Just say what you need to say."
"Last time I was at your house in the city—I stole something out of your desk." Peter stood up to dig around in the pocket of his new jeans. He'd kept this paper hidden in Charlotte's closet until now.
Edward's eyes quirked in confusion as Peter moved forward and placed a disheveled piece of paper into his uncle's hand.
"I don't follow," Edward replied, staring at the paper, blinking in puzzlement. The ink on the paper was smeared.
"You! You took a stupid job in some town in Pennsylvania. This town, Forks! How could you do that! You were already gone all the time—working, traveling to do your volunteer work, whatever! And then I saw that on your desk and figured it out. But don't worry, I'm not mad at you, I hate Chicago too—I'm never going back there. I'm just glad to be away from them."
"Whoa, whoa, whoa, Peter. You took this…out of my desk? How'd you even know where to find Forks? Why would you try to follow me?" Edward said, eyebrows shooting up. Bella's face matched his confusion.
"I took it because you spent a lotta time looking at it. It said the date. I tried to—I thought you'd be waiting for me! I thought you'd figure it out! You figure everything out…every puzzle we do together, every riddle from Lord of the Rings, how to do every cool trick on the ski trips, I thought you'd figure this one out too! You know me best, Uncle E." Peter said, his voice growing louder and then trembling at the very end. He started to yell, but by the time his breath hit the last word, tears flowed freely from his eyes.
He moved instinctively to his uncle, who, wrapped his arms gently around him. Bella watched, biting the corner of her lip. She swallowed back, not sure what to take from the situation. She laid her good hand on Edward's shoulder and leaned her head against him.
Edward's face still looked shocked by what Peter had said. A million and one questions ran through his head. How could he be the only 'good' thing in his nephew's life? What was going on? Now he was certain he didn't want to hear the rest of the story. Gently, he placed a kiss on Peter's hair.
"Peter, I wasn't here because I stayed behind to look for you. You were gone—the way they found the scene…we thought someone had taken you, that you were hurt. You can't possibly think I'd leave for a job when you were in danger."
"You're here now," Peter said, arching his neck to frown at Edward.
"Yes. Three months later. Three months of grueling searches, holding on to false hope, trying to live normally without a single aspect of normalcy in my life because you were gone. I left to try and find some kind of peace, Pete. If I wasn't ready to leave the windy city behind then, well, those three months did it for me because you weren't there anymore." Edward answered honestly, "but you're right. I'm here now. And so are you." Edward poked Peter's arm lightly. He laughed.
"But…why did you decide to run?" Edward asked when Peter stopped laughing through his light tears, "I have no doubt you knew what was going on…I was tr—"
"I know, trying to help." Peter said, reaching up to wipe his eyes, " I heard them talk about how you were paying the bills and giving them some money. I don't think you were paying for their drugs, though. She would buy it from people that came over to the house. At first, I never saw them actually doing it...they used to... ugh never mind."
Peter dropped his head into his arms.
"No, Peter. You promised. Tell us, please. This is a safe spot, I'm not going to do anything to—" Edward started, raising up his hand.
"It's hard to talk about uncle E! It's scary!" Peter's voice rose, and he stood up. Edward's eyes widened as Bella's hand gripped tightly on Edward's shoulder.
"I know it is, we just need to get to the bottom of what happened. People are going to ask a lot of questions. Grandma and Grandpa are coming—" Edward tried to resolve.
"What? Grandma and Grandpa are coming? Did you call them? Why?" Peter asked, stunned.
"Peter...you were gone for months. They're coming to see you, so are your parents. I can't exactly keep this a secret from them." Edward said calmly.
"Why would you do that!? They're the whole reason I ran in the first place! They're gonna' try to take me back! I can't go back! I can't, Uncle E, please! I can't!" Peter yelled in a way Edward had never heard before. The little boy stared wide-eyed at his equally wide-eyed uncle. They continued the stare down until Peter broke with a cry.
He ran into Bella's surprised arm, throwing himself around her good arm.
"Peter, be careful," Edward warned, watching in shock as Bella adjusted her cast.
"I'm fine, Edward."
The conversation was drowned out with the low mumbles of Peter crying desperately into Bella's shirt.
"Please don't let him send me back."
"I can't go back there."
"You don't know what they did."
Edward continued to stare like a deer in the headlights—what was he supposed to do? Why couldn't he go back? He knew what was going in that house...or at least he thought he did. Suddenly, the worst possible images ran through his head. What were they doing? He couldn't even attempt to think that something like that was going on. Edward watched as the boy clung to Bella, breathing deeply.
"Peter, I know we talked and agreed to keep this a secret, but he needs to know." She said, rubbing her arm up and down his back.
Edward furrowed his brows at Bella, glancing at her in utter confusion.
What did she know?
"Edward, I'm sorry I kept this from you...it wasn't right. I saw it the first day I looked him over, the day I found out about him."
"What in God's name are you talking about?"
"She's talking about these. But don't be mad at her, please. I asked her to not say anything, I told her I wanted to tell you." Peter said, sniffling and raising up the arm of his shirt. He'd been avoiding changing in the same room as his uncle, or anyone, really.
"Peter, why can't you go back there?"
Edward was sick—he'd seen a lot of abuse cases in his professional life, kids coming into the ER covered in bruises. But none of that put his stomach in this throat like his nephew's motions did.
Peter slowly pulled the T-shirt over his head.
Bella shut her eyes, fighting her own tears. She had seen them before, of course, but not to this extent.
Small, angry scars dotted the top part of his chest all the way to his arm.
"This wasn't why I ran, but this is part of why I can't go back, Uncle E. Please," Peter said, looking at the floor.
"Peter…" Edward gasped.
Edward knew what they were the minute Peter had removed his shirt. They varied in size but were similar in the fading, scorched red marks. Circular, oval, square—the shapes of tobacco pipes, cigarettes, and joint-ends.
At that moment, he had two options. Put on his doctor face and try to maintain a calm façade until the blood boiling underneath his skin simmered, or he could unleash the anger. And the people he wanted to unleash it on weren't anywhere close to here. Not yet. So, he chose option one.
He reached for Peter's arm and gently pulled him forward, "let me see a little closer." His voice was quiet.
"Why—I don't like looking at them. They're embarrassing and ugly." Peter whined but moved with his uncle anyway.
"Peter, please. Let me look at them for a minute. I'm looking at them as a doctor." Edward said, not acknowledging Peter's whine.
"Did you get these looked at when you got them?" He had to ask, but figured he knew the answer, "how did you take care of them at home?"
Peter shook his head and shrugged, "I just used some of that sunburn gel and put a Band-Aid on to hide them."
"When did you get them? It looks these are on top of older ones." Edward said, gritting his teeth as he ran his fingers over the marks. He looked around Peter's arm and chest for any signs of old injuries.
Again, Peter shrugged, but Edward also saw a slight wince. He knew there would be other injuries uncovered. Burn marks went hand in hand with beatings.
"Well, they're healed. And they healed okay for the most part…" Edward sighed. He picked up Peter's shirt and handed it to him stiffly. He watched Peter pull the shirt over his head before letting some of his anger loose.
"Who?" Edward said blankly. His voice was cold, "Your Dad? Your Mom? One of their friends?"
Peter nodded his head. "All of them, I suppose. Not him, but he never did anything to stop the others...he just let them do it. They would...have people over the house. And if I didn't listen to them and do what they wanted, they'd..."
"Did they ever do anything else to you? Those are cigarette burns, but did they ever try to give you anything? Needles, pills, drinks…anything, Pete. You can tell me. I'm on your side. I'm always on your side." Edward said, looking his nephew in the eye.
Peter shook his head sadly. "They tried, but I was smart. They thought I swallowed them, but I didn't."
"Why don't you tell us what happened?" Edward said quietly seething at the thought of what more he would hear.
Bella put a light hand on Peter's shoulder, and he nodded, once again looking at the floor.
"They would put me in the closet whenever their…friends would come over. They've been doing it for like two years—to keep me out of the way, I guess. She used to say I was a pain in the ass … well, she said more swears, but I can't repeat them. Anyway, they would lock the door from the outside—you know which closet. The hallway one with the board games Grandpa brought us from his house."
"Sometimes I would be in there for hours—they would give me a juice box, some peaches or crackers, and that's it. Sometimes I'd be out in a few minutes, but other times they didn't let me out until the next morning. But, you know I'm not always the best listener, Uncle E. Sometimes, I could get out of the closet with hairpins that she left around. When I got caught out, the people around would push me away and hit me. They acted so weird. She used to put her smoke sticks on my skin if I didn't go back in. He never hit me with anything but didn't stop it. I used to yell for him to come get me, and he did, once, but it stopped after she yelled at him. Uncle E, they said such bad stuff about me, and I didn't do nothin."
"That's not why I ran, though. I ran, because one night, they locked me in, and I was in there for hours. I guess they were out of money, which I guess is my fault because I was stealing from their coffee can stash for weeks, trying to save enough to buy a bus ticket or train ticket to Pittsburgh. I Googled that it was the closest city to Forks."
Edward was about to speak up…he was so hurt, but Peter began to talk again.
"They…they said..."
"What? What did they say?" Edward said coldly. His fists were clenched at his sides as he listened to his nephew's tale.
"They didn't have the money to buy something—I don't remember what it was called, but they were talking about something—anyway, then she said something about letting them spend time with me if she didn't have the money to pay. She said she would let them in the closet with me if they gave her what she wanted. Once she said they could take me with them, but he..Dad..said no, that I was worth more at home. I didn't know what that meant, but I got freaked out. I—nobody ever got the chance to come into the closet, because I ran. I remembered how they acted when they burned me, and I was scared. Uncle E, I had to leave—I had to."
"Peter, why didn't you tell anyone? We could have—I could have…" Edward quavered. The assurance that usually filtered through his voice sunk. His voice was shaky, on the verge of crumbling.
She said she would let them come in the closet with me if they gave her what she wanted.
The words circled Edward's brain as if they were a flock of vultures searching for their prey.
Sick fucks.
Edward shook his head, moving it from side to side swiftly as he went over different scenarios in his head.
"Uncle E, who could I call to get help? And how? They stopped paying the cell phone bill. They kept his on so we could talk to Grandma and Grandpa so they weren't suspicious and wouldn't come over. You were always busy…I didn't want to bother you. I thought I'd just come with you—see you, and then explain, and you'd understand.
Peter continued the conversation so casually as if Edward wasn't breaking from the inside out with his confession. He was fighting to keep a calm face.
He felt sick to his core.
Bella was the first to move to him. She threw her arm around Peter and pulled him into her side. Tears gently rolled down her face—she couldn't bear to look at Edward. Bella held him for an unknown amount of time until she felt Edward kneel down in front of her. His expression was pained, and his eyes stained red. He put his hands firmly on Peter's shoulders.
"Peter, I will always have time for you, no matter what it is. I see you, and I do understand everything you've told us. You don't ever have to go back. In fact, I'm not going to let you. You're going to be stuck here with me, kid. You'll never be there again, with them, do you hear me, kid? You're safe here."
Not long after his confessions, Peter asked to be excused. He'd been through a lot in the past while so neither Edward nor Bella raised any questions.
They didn't take the time to discuss what Peter had told them. One look at one another told them they were on the same page—utterly disgusted- on all accounts. Peter wasn't a liar—there was no way in hell he was making this up. He couldn't think about Garrett or Kate or the fact that his family would be in town the following day.
Edward grabbed Bella's chin with his hand and steered her towards him gently. He touched his lips lightly to hers, holding him to her. He needed something positive, happy. And it was something he'd only realized in the past week. He wasn't the type who would be head over heels in love with a woman after only a few weeks, but in the past week, he'd seen sides of Bella he didn't know he was missing. The way she was with Charlotte, the way she was with Peter. It was easy to picture it—a big house, a family dog, and waking up next to her every day, their children squirming around the bed. He had questioned fate and the purpose of things—only to come to one conclusion.
"I know your brain is moving a million miles a minute, but we should focus on the fact that he's safe and in a warm bed," Bella said gently, grabbing his chin to turn him to face her.
"Yes, I know and I'm extremely grateful. But right now, I've shoved that all out of my head. I need to talk to you. I have something to say." Edward said gently.
Bella pulled back, curiosity swam in her eyes as she looked at met his.
"All of this today—everything that's going on with Peter, whatever goes on tomorrow when my family comes, has made me realize something. I'm not good at situations like this—in fact, I've felt so many emotions in the past few days that my head is going to explode. It's just something to think about—why did you and I end up together? Why did Peter end up in your backyard? What are the chances of all of this happening? Why did you have to be the most compassionate person I've ever met in my life?"
"And what have you realized?" Bella smirked. She knew where this was headed. Her heart fluttered as he took her hand.
"Obviously, you know where I'm going with this. And I don't expect you to say it back, but I love you, Bella. And I'm not sure when it happened, but somewhere in the midst of all this chaos, it just did."
Bella was startled yet touched by the sincerity of his words, and she leaned in to kiss him.
The Childhelp National Child Abuse Hotline (1-800-4-A-Child) is dedicated to the prevention of child abuse. Serving the U.S. and Canada, the hotline is staffed 24 hours a day, 7 days a week with professional crisis counselors who—through interpreters—provide assistance in over 170 languages. The hotline offers crisis intervention, information, and referrals to thousands of emergency, social service, and support resources. All calls are confidential.
Addiction is very real. The US National Drug Helpline (1-844- 289-0879) offers 24/7 drug and alcohol help to those struggling with addiction.
AN: This was a heavy chapter to work on so thanks to everyone who helped me out to get things right (Fran, Gail, Myk). I am so amazed this story hit 1K reviews after the last chapter! Thank you so much!
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Sarah
