Gabe’s bag was still mostly packed, so it only took a few minutes to get his things together. Realistically, he probably could have walked out of the front door right now and Adam wouldn’t have done anything to stop him, but it didn’t seem like the way to do things. Instead, he spent ten minutes figuring out how to get the fly screen off his window so he could climb out that way.

And then he was outside, he was walking down the street, and he had no idea where the fuck he was going. 

But he did know he wasn’t going back. Even Adam knew he wasn’t safe in that house. Even Adam didn’t want to find out what he’d end up doing to Gabe if things kept going the way they had been.

So he just… walked. It achieved nothing, but he needed to be moving just then. If he stopped, he might have to accept that he had nowhere to go, and he couldn’t deal with that.

After about an hour of walking he was well and truly lost. 

Well, not lost. He had his phone and his phone had GPS, so he could easily find out where he was if he cared to check, but what difference did it make if there was no place he needed to be to compare his location to?

He was so thirsty that his mouth had dried out and he was starting to feel light headed, though, and that was a problem. It was hot as fuck and he hadn’t had the opportunity, or the foresight, to get a bottle of water before he left. 

There was a park up ahead. There would probably be somewhere to get a drink there.

After walking around the small park three times, Gabe concluded that there was not, in fact, anywhere to get a drink there. He sat down at a picnic table and buried his face in his arms.

What the fuck was he going to do? He couldn’t go home, but what other options did he have? He didn’t have any family besides his dad, and he didn’t even have his dad’s number. He could call Sally, try to get her help, but he was sure she’d tell him to go home and wait for her to get back so that they could sort things out then. That wasn’t an option. He was convinced, deep down, that if he ever stepped back into that house it would be over. If he caved on this, even a little, even temporarily, he wouldn’t leave and something terrible would end up happening.

He scrolled through the contacts on his phone and made a face. He didn’t even have any friends. Well, Bee and Sophie were sort of friends, but he’d left so abruptly that he hadn’t gotten their numbers.

But, he realised as he stared in confusion at a number labeled ‘Emergency,’ he did have Trist’s. And this was an emergency.

Gabe pressed the call button before he could think about it. He knew he’d talk himself out of it if he did, and he didn’t have any other options.

“Hello, Tristan speaking.”

Tristan. Well yes, Gabe, of course that was what fucking Trist was short for. What did you think?

“Hey,” Gabe said after a silence that had stretched for far too long.

“Uh… hey?”

“It’s Gabe.”

“Oh,” Trist said. “Hi?”

“I— um, your number.” Gabe rubbed a hand over his face. “Remember when Bee was trying to call you and she used my phone?”

“Oh, right. Yeah.” Trist was silent for a moment. “I’m not at home right now, but I can give you Bee and Sophie’s numbers if you’re trying to get hold of them.”

“No, it’s fine, I just—” Gabe fell silent as his throat started to close up. What was he trying to say? Trist didn’t even like him.

“Is everything okay?”

And oh, fuck, sympathy was exactly what he needed and the very last thing he needed, because now he really was crying. 

“Yeah,” Gabe managed after far, far too long and in a voice that was very obviously not okay.

“Are you with your dad?”

“No.”

“Are you back with your step mum?”

“Not anymore.”

“Did something happen?”

Gabe was silent. He didn’t want to lie and he didn’t think he could tell the truth without breaking down.

“Where are you?”

“I don’t know.” Gabe looked around. “A park.”

“There are a lot of those.”

“Yeah.”

Trist let out a long sigh that crackled through the phone. “Gabe, you called me. Is there something you actually wanted to say to me, or do you want to figure out the name of that park so that I can come and figure this shit out?”

“You don’t have to.”

“Gabe.”

“Hold on.” Gabe lowered his phone so he could open the maps app on the screen. He found the name of the park and put the phone back to his ear. “Hewitt Park.”

“Good job. Wait there.”

And then Trist hung up.

Gabe buried his face in his folded arms. What was he doing? What was he going to do?

His arm was still throbbing with a dull pain. Adam had never hit him like that before. Everything else had been petty kid stuff by comparison, but now...

He just wanted to fall asleep and wake up somewhere where this problem didn’t exist. Somewhere safe where he was wanted and maybe even loved, where he could stay as long as he needed to. As long as he wanted to.

He heard someone sit down across from him at the picnic table a while later, and he could only assume it was Trist. Especially when they reached out and pushed his sleeve up to examine how far the bruise extended up his arm.

“Are you hurt anywhere else?” Trist asked.

Gabe finally lifted his head and shook it. “No.”

Trist stared back at him, expression unreadable. “Would you tell me if you were?”

“I don’t know. But I’m not.”

Trist sighed, looked away, and murmured, “You’d better not be.”

Gabe made a face. “That’s a really weird thing to threaten me over. And really unconvincing.”

Trist turned back to Gabe, his eyebrows lifting. “I wasn’t threatening you. Why would I be threatening you?”

“I don’t know. I’m not sure how else I was supposed to interpret that, and you’re doing that thing where you sound really hostile while simultaneously actually being really nice to me and I think I’m too tired to pretend that’s anything but weird and confusing.”

“I’ll take that under advisement.” Trist put his elbows on the picnic table and twined his fingers together. His eyes were on the bruise. “So, was this your step brother again?”

“Yeah.”

“And not an accident this time?”

“No. I mean, I think he regretted it pretty much immediately, but… no. He meant to do it and I think he’ll do it again if he gets the chance and I don’t know what to do.” Gabe hoped Trist hadn’t noticed that his voice had started to strain a little at the end there. He really didn’t want to cry in front of him. He didn’t even think Trist would be mean about it if he did, he just… didn’t want to.

“Sounds like you need to not give him the chance.”

Gabe dropped his gaze down to the picnic table. He couldn’t deal with Trist looking at him, really looking at him, like that. “Well, yeah, but I can’t stay with my dad either because frankly he won’t let me and I think he might actually have the right idea about that.”

“Yeah?”

Gabe took a long breath in and let it out again. He hadn’t really intended to share this, but now that they were here, talking, it felt right. He desperately wanted someone to listen, to care. To protect him from everything the world kept throwing at him. “He wanted to shave my hair. He realised holding me down and shaving me was fucked up before he actually got anywhere with it, but… you know. Not great.”

“Jesus,” Trist said, the word barely more than a whisper. “Why did he want to shave your hair?”

“I don’t know. He thinks people don’t like me because I don’t look manly enough or something, I guess.” Gabe propped his chin up on his hand and looked at Trist. “Would you hate me less if I had a buzz cut?”

Trist stared back at him, expression as flat and unreadable as ever. “You’re not funny.”

Gabe didn’t know why that made him smile. “True.”

Trist shook his head, gently disapproving, though he didn’t really look annoyed. “Anyway, I don’t know what answers you think I have if you don’t want to stay with us. I’d think that would at least be better than your other options.”

“But you—” Gabe started to say, and then abruptly shut his mouth as it occurred to him that Alice probably hadn’t told them the real reason Gabe had left. “Hm.”

It was too late, though. Realisation was already dawning on Trist’s face. “Ah, so that’s why you called me. You thought you had to ask my permission to come back.”

“No,” Gabe insisted. “I wasn’t going to ask you if I could. Honestly I just needed help and no matter how much you hate me, you’ve always given it to me when I needed it. I didn’t know what else to do.”

“First of all, I don’t hate you,” Trist said in what was probably the most irritated and unconvincing way anyone had ever said that sentence. “Second, why weren’t you even going to ask? Living with us can’t be worse than places you’re literally unsafe.”

“You won’t even look at me half the time, so I call bullshit on you not hating me. And living with you guys was great, but no matter what your problem with me is, I don’t want you to drive you away. You have a home and a family and I get the feeling you’ve been through some shit to get that. I’m not going to take it away from you.”

Trist frowned. “You didn’t. You didn’t do anything.”

“I know, but it doesn’t matter if I’m morally culpable or not. It matters that you’re out late at night doing who knows what instead of at home with your family.”

“Hm.” Trist was silent, thinking for a moment, then stood and held up his car keys. “Come with me.”

“Where are we going?” Gabe asked, but he was already following.

“You’ll see.”

“Why do I trust you so much?”

“I don’t know, Gabe. I clearly don’t deserve it, but here we are.” Trist led him over to a small, red hatchback. “Get in.”

Gabe complied, then he shut his eyes and let Trist drive. He didn’t really care where they were going. Or… he did. He would, when they got wherever it was and he had to deal with the reality of it. But that wasn’t right now.