Previously on "The Otherworlders": In a tense confrontation at a secluded area of the Shifter compound, Patrick seeks help from Phyllis Kesselman, the mother of his exiled former lover, Stephen. Initially met with hostility, the atmosphere shifts as Patrick shares his urgent need to find Stephen, now entangled with The Resistance.

Through a raw and heartfelt conversation, Patrick and Phyllis navigate past grievances, touching upon their shared history, the deep love between Patrick and Stephen, and the complex web of emotions and responsibility. 

As understanding blossoms, Phyllis offers her assistance, marking a tentative reconciliation and a new ally for Patrick in his quest to help Stephen.

📢 TRIGGER WARNING 📢 - Victor Meska, Patrick's father, is a homophobic ass and his behavior reflects his predjudice and ignorance. None of his beliefs reflect mine or the other characters in the main cast. Also, there's a little bit of violence between Patrick and his dad.

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As Patrick leaves the Kesselman trailer, he's careful to keep to the perimeter of the compound, trying to avoid running into anyone from the tribe or, gods forbid, his father. No one can know why he's here and he just doesn't have the energy to make up an excuse on the spot.

As Patrick rounds the corner of the out building that sits behind the Kesselman trailer, he sees a young man, bent over, peering into the Prius.

At the sound of Patrick's footsteps on the gravel, the young man whips around. "Patrick! What are you doing here? Hey!" He points. "Is this your car?"

Patrick clears his throat. "Yeah, Danny, it's mine."

"Oh, man!" Danny laughs." I'm sorry. "I didn't even recognize it."

Patrick pulls out his car keys and clicks the fob to unlock the car door, trying to message to Danny — who has a tendency to talk the ear off of anyone he can corner — that he's in a hurry and can't stop to chat.

With his hand stretched out, Danny cuts Patrick off before he can slip into the car. "Hey, hey... how's it going at that school your father shipped you off to, huh"

Patrick looks around, making sure no one else is roaming the edge of the property, then he forces a smile. "It's good. It's good."

"Yeah? So what's it like?" Danny pries.

Patrick dips his chin in confusion. "What's what like?"

"You know?" Danny continues to press. "Living with the other races? Not so much the Enchanteds, I've actually met a couple of them before, but Vampyrs? Dude! That must suck!"

Danny looks up at the sky, then laughs, and slaps Patrick on the arm. "Suck! Ha, ha! Get it? I made a pun!" He scrunches his face up. "Or was that an innuendo? Or maybe a metaphor? Shit! I always get those confused." He shakes his head as if shaking cobwebs from his addled brain. "Ah, I don't know. Anyway!" he beams. "What's it like, huh? It's gotta be a total nightmare."

Having gotten to know — maybe even become friends with — Farid, Patrick takes offense at Danny's comment. Normally, he'd go to the trouble of straightening Danny out, but he can't get into it now. He's got to get out of here before anyone else sees him.

"Look, man" Patrick insists. "Honestly, I'd stop and tell you all about it, but I borrowed this car and I've got to get it back."

Danny, looking a little hurt at being blown off, steps aside. "Yeah, sure. Of course. Of course"

As Patrick slips in behind the wheel, Danny leans over, placing his hand on the top of the driver's side door, propping it open so they can keep talking. "But we'll get together, right? Next time you're here?"

Patrick's patience is wearing thin. "Yeah, yeah, definitely..." he says, as he tugs at the car door, trying to bring the conversation to an end.

Just then, a black SUV pulls up behind them. Danny straightens. He squints, trying to make out the driver, then he turns back to Patrick, "Oh, yeah. I forgot. When I saw the car and didn't recognize it, I called your dad."

Fuckin' hell! Patrick lets out a heavy sigh, and closing his eyes, leans his head back against the headrest.

Behind him, Victor Meska steps out of his SUV. He's so engrossed in checking the messages on his phone that he doesn't notice it's his son who's sitting in the car.

"Daniel!" Victor shouts. "What's this bullshit about an unauthorized vehicle? Do we even know who it belongs to?" Victor looks up and catches his son's gaze in the rear view mirror. He scowls.

As Danny takes a step back, Patrick slowly steps out of the car. Standing in between the driver's side door and the car itself, as if using it as a shield, Patrick leans back. Trying to play it cool, he shoves his hands deep into his pockets, avoiding making any eye contact with his father.

"Patrick?" Victor says with his eyes narrowed. "What the hell are you doing here?"

Patrick chews his bottom lip, scouring his brain for any viable excuse he can give.

"Daniel?" Victor says without ever taking his eyes off his son. "Why don't you head back to the Longhouse, hmm? I need to speak with my son."

Danny starts backing away, "Yeah. Sure, Chief."

Victor waits a few seconds and watches as Danny makes his way down the path, back to the main part of the compound. Then, with a look of utter disdain, he turns back to Patrick. "I asked you a question, boy. What are you doing here?"

Patrick's gaze drifts over his father's shoulder to the path Danny had just traversed, looking to see if his father called any of his guards to come meet him. Then his gaze drifts down at the ground. "I... uh... I forgot some stuff..." he shrugs. "...you know, stuff I need back at school. I just came back to get it."

"Really, Patrick?" Victor says. Peeking over Patrick's shoulder into the empty interior of the Prius. "Do you take me for a fool? Anything you needed we could have easily shipped out to you. Now..." Menace laces his tone. "I'm only going to ask you this one more time. What the hell are you doing here?"

Before Patrick can reply, Mrs. Kesselman rounds the corner of the outbuilding, waving her cell phone. "Patrick! I forgot to tell you about—"

She halts abruptly, a look of surprise flashing across her face before she masks it with a forced smile.

"Victor?" she says. "I didn't expect to see you out here, among the dregs in no man's land."

When Victor doesn't respond, Mrs. Kesselman looks between him and Patrick, sizing up the situation fairly quickly.

She broadens her smile, then turns her full attention to Patrick. "Patrick, that book you were looking for? You know, the one Stephen borrowed from you several months ago? Well, I just remembered it's in storage. I'll... um... I'll send it to you as soon as I find it. Does that work for you?"

Patrick clears his throat. "Yeah, yeah that'd be great, Phyll... I mean, Mrs. Kesselman. Just send it to me whenever you can."

Mrs. Kesselman nods. She shoots Patrick a far-too-friendly smile, then one at his father as well, in an attempt to counteract the awkwardness building between the three of them.

When she sees that her strategy isn't working, she starts to back away and silently makes her retreat.

Victor turns to his son again. "A book? A book?! You seriously came all the way out here for a book? Please! Now answer me boy, goddamn it!"

Patrick backs up and reaches for the door. "Look, Dad, I've got to get back to the Academy before it gets dark and—"

But before he knows it, before can even process the movement, Victor lunges forward and shoves Patrick back against the car.

With his right hand pressed on Patrick's chest, and his left arm shoved up underneath Patrick's chin, Victor pins him against the car, his forearm crushing his son's throat. "I pray to the gods you weren't here trying to find out what happened to that little fag of yours!" he snarls.

Gasping for breath, Patrick tries desperately to claw his way free. But Victor, being shorter and smaller than his son and never one to let his size get in the way of an opportunity to bully someone, especially his kin, uses his former wrestling skills and inherent ruthlessness, to keep Patrick pinned in place.

"Is that it? Huh?" He presses even harder against Patrick's neck. "Were you here trying to track down your little lover-boy?"

Patrick bares his teeth and with a low growl and all of his strength, pushes his father back, finally freeing his neck from his father's ruthless choke-hold.

Coughing and wheezing, Patrick stumbles away from the car and tries to regain his bearing.

Victor turns to him and takes a fighter's stance. Letting loose another snarl, even more vicious than the first, he says, "That's it, isn't it? That's why you're here." He scoffs in disbelief. "Well, it seems like you're the one we should have taken out behind the shed and given a good beating to, not Stephen." He tilts his head. "We just might have beaten the gay right out of you if we had." His lip curls. "Maybe then you would have learned to fight back!"

Patrick drags his fingers down his throbbing neck, as thoughts of all the ways he could finish this war with his father, once and for all, flood his anguished mind.

Deep. Slow. Breaths.

He turns and balls his fists at his sides, then takes an imposing step forward. "Do you want to know, why every time you come after me, I never strike back?" he rasps.

Victor doesn't say a word, but his cold, merciless gaze falters, indicating that, yes, he really would like to know.

Patrick takes another step closer in, standing taller than before, his back rim-rod straight, his voice still scratchy, but firm. "Because, gods help me, if I ever struck you, if I ever threw that first punch..." He takes another step forward and leans in, his face mere inches from his father's now. "...there is nothing on this earth that would stop me." He towers over his father and gritting his teeth, adds, "I... would... kill... you."

Patrick pauses, not moving a muscle, and lets the threat hang in the air.

But when he sees his father's eyes grow wide with fear, he pulls back and quietly states, "It's not what would happen to you that stops me, you know." Although his breathing is labored and the old ball of dread that always develops in his stomach whenever he fights with his father has returned, Patrick refuses to tear his gaze away from Victor's, and instead adds softly, "It's that I could never do that to Mom. I could never cause her the kind of pain you've caused me. I could never hurt someone she loved."

There! After all these years, he's finally said it!

Feeling an incalcuable sense of relief and with an almost eerie calm, Patrick breaks his gaze from his father's and fishes the car keys out of his jacket pocket. 

Shouldering Victor aside, he throws himself behind the wheel of the Prius, and without a glance back up at the man who's always made his life a living hell, he fires up the car, revs the engine and tears out of the compound — gravel spewing out behind him — and turns onto the road, heading back to the place that, for better or worse, he now calls home.

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A/N - There's so much more to Patrick than I think readers give him credit for. I was so terrified to write this scene, for so many reasons. But as tough as it was, I'm proud of Patrick on so many levels.

I'd love to know, how do you feel about Patrick at this point in the story?

~ Paula ❤️