I do not own the Outsiders.

Chapter 14

Patrick's POV

J.D wanted me go home after she called CPS. She looked like hell. Her eyes were bloodshot from crying and she was clinging to Eric every step she took. I was trying to not look at them, I still hated Eric, and I didn't want to see the look in J.D's eyes when she saw me. I knew, and she knew, that it was my fault. I should have been paying attention to Mikey. I shouldn't have gone over there. It was my entire fault.

"I'll call you if we find anything." She said as Eric pulled up to the house.

"Alright, see you later." I say.

"Bye Pat." Eric says solemnly. I don't even bother to say bye back. I wouldn't mean it if I did.

I walked up the driveway and pulled out a cigarette. I lit it and leaned against the house. I closed my eyes and let out a shaky breath. I've never felt this bad. Or this guilty. It was my fault.

I looked at the house and shook my head. I didn't want to go in. I couldn't, not after all this. I hate myself. How could I do this to my kid brother? How could I just let him disappear? I walked down the street, smoking my cigarette, thinking where I should go.

The Strip? No, too many people go there now, it's way too crowded. Bowling alley? No, it was filled with a bunch of drunks. Rosie's place? Yeah, why not. It's better than here.

J.D's POV

It was almost two in the morning. I was trying not to show how tired I was. One of our social workers was going to meet us at the house in the morning. She made it very clear on the phone that even if we did find Mikey, he and Patrick probably would get taken away. She said 'One who is in charge of two young children should be responsible enough for something like this not to happen. If Michael is found, I will recommend that he and Patrick be placed in alternative care. Care that is appropriate for children in this situation.'

I rubbed my eyes and turned to the window. I looked at Eric. He was focusing on the road. He was looking tired, but wasn't showing it as much as I was. He took a deep breath and shook his head. He did that when we he got tired, ever since we were kids.

"How are you holding up?" he asks.

"I'm alright." I say sitting up more. Eric pats my knee gently.

"We need to stop for the night, J.D. We'll start again in the morning." He says gently. I shut my eyes tight and shook my head.

"No, you can go home, but I need to keep looking." I say.

"Babe…."

"Eric, don't. I need to find him. He's my brother Eric. It's my fau….."

Eric suddenly pulled the car over, and shut off the engine. He turned to me, took my hands, and stared right into my eyes.

"Don't, don't you ever say that. None of this is your fault. I don't ever want to hear you say that again. Alright?"

The way he looked at me, so serious, caring, intense, so…. Eric-like. It felt like I could surrender to him.

"Alright."

Patrick's POV

I walked the fifteen blocks to Rose's place. It was in the ghetto of town, but it was better looking than the other houses on the street. She kept a spare key under her flower pot, just for me when I need a place to cool down. Or to sleep off a night of partying.

I lifted up the pot, but the key wasn't there. I looked at the door, but it was slightly open. I slowly opened the door, and pulled out my knife that my Dad gave me when I was twelve. The house was dark, but I sensed that someone else was in the house. I peeked around the hallway, and saw that a little stain, rust colored.

Blood.

I moved slowly and silently into the living room, nothing was there. I moved down the hallway, knife out. I went into the bathroom next, nothing in there. The next room was Rose's room. It was wide open. And on the bed was my kid brother, bleeding from his head.

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