Tw: abuse, homophobia, violence, guns, blood, alcohol,.

This wasnt how it was supposed to go. Aunt May told him that she would love him for whoever is and whoever he wanted to be. So why is it that when he likes men it's an offense?

One that involved the scratching of long nails and the cuts of rings as the slash at his face. Or the glass bottles that had broken over his head, shattering into sandy shards that pierced his skin and almost blinded him.

He couldn't believe it.
His aunt wouldnt do this?

'Then why are you alone walking in the rain in the middle of the night?' His thoughts persisted.

Peter assumed May told him to leave because she needed to cool down a bit. It wasnt her fault he was Gay. He must have come out at the wrong time. Maybe she was having a bad day?

The thoughts ran through his head plummeting like a waterfall as every idealistic reason ended up the same.

She hates me.

As if his day couldnt get any worse it started to rain.

"Great!" He exclaimed. He needed to find some sort of shelter. It was early enough in the night that the bars would still be open so he decided to take refuge there.

The huts end

He had seen the pub in broad daylight on the way to school and it seemed pleasant enough. He's pretty sure May even goes there with her work mates sometime.

Entering the bar the first thing that hits him is the overwhelming smell of alcohol. He's not sure what he was expecting, it was a bar after all. But at the tender age fifteen his experience with alcohol was at a minimum. A few sips from Ben's beer when he was twelve was enough to turn him off it completely.

It was loud aswell. It sounded like a riot was taking place in the small room. And it was packed. There was obnoxious music playing over a large speaker and loud conversations between groups of people filled his ears.

"Whater you doin'ere?" A voice behind him slurred

A hand was placed on his shoulder making him jump. There was a man who looked to be in his early thirties behind him, looking him up and down.

"I um- nothing sir. I- I was just leaving" he stuttered and started to stumble his way though the crowded bar once again, back into the rain.

Taking a deep breath of fresh air he started his journey again, this time hoping maybe to find a corner shop or an all night mini Market, but nothing was in sight. So he kept walking and walking and walking as the rain hit his head so hard that it hurt. By this time he was drenched from head to toe. (fliuch go craiceann if one must know in Irish)

He just wanted to go back to his apartment and get into bed with his radiator and worn out blanket that has kept his warm for the last ten years.

Eventually he came to an alleyway with a scrap piece of metal thrown over it, he assumed it was a shelter made by some homeless people to sleep under and he felt bad to taking up there space even though no one was near. Or so he thought.

"I've been looking for you boy"

He recognised the voice and the smell that accompanied it almost immediately, but he was too scared to turn around and face it so instead he just walked deeper into the alley to see if there was an exit the other side.

"c'mere I'm talking to you pretty"

Panicking and moving faster towards the light at the end of the alley, he didn't realise how close the drunk man was to him until the hand was gasping his shoulder and pulling him onto the dirty ground. Then both hands were clasped tightly onto his shoulders holding him down.

He couldnt breathe or move or even think. He just watched in horror as the man stared into his eyes.

Click click

"You step away from the kid or there's going to be seven bullets in your skull scum bag"

A saviour? Or something else to attack him? Peter wasn't sure anymore there was too much going through his mind at once now. The pressure holding him to the ground relived and his body's automatic reaction was to stand up. He could hear the guy with the gun scream at the drunk creep vaguely in the background until the noise stopped.

"would you like to come in for a drink of water kid?"

Without thinking he nodded and let the man direct him inside.

"what's your name kid?"

"P-e"

The teen coughed twice to try and sound less childlike and terrified.

"Peter. And you?"

'good job well done you acted casual in a social situation I'm proud'

"I'm Weasel this is my Bar in here I can introduce you to a few of the friendly giants and get you a change of clothes. We are going to call you Spud though to protect your identity"

Peter was a little Confused but nevertheless agreed and walked through the side door.

"Welcome to Sister Margaret's!"

Here's part one! Only took a couple of moths of procrastination but here we are