laniew1: (Ryan/Pete)
[personal profile] laniew1
The first of my Constants ficlet, some Pete, Ryan and Zack and how Ryan came to the Institute in the first place.

You should read the main Constants story first: Constants

Summary: Pete hears voices in his head, sometimes they’re a cry for help.

TITLE: Constants
PAIRING: Pete/Patrick
AUTHOR: Melanie
SUMMARY: Psychics were few and far between. For every one there was at least 150 trained Constants (that wasn’t counting the untrained Constants that could sometimes sneak in and lure a Psychic away).
DISCLAIMER: I don’t own any of these boys and I’m pretty sure that this has never happened.

Constants Ficlet – Pete

Pete didn’t like going places without Patrick, hadn’t been overly fond of it even before he’d found his Constant.

Things just sort of happened to him while he was gone, normally bad things. Things that if Patrick had been there, he wouldn’t have allowed to happen.

Like the first time Pete had to leave him behind at the Institute while he went to sit as an advisor on a trial that he didn’t even really care about the outcome of.

Losing all control of his shields, because some fucking kid, a normal, average, non-psychic, non-constant kid got so distraught over breaking up with his girlfriend that he was projecting loud enough for psychics in three states to hear him.

Pete being the closest to him had been blind-sided and ended up swallowing a bunch of pills in his hotel room and spent three days in a hospital.

He wasn’t sure why he was in Vegas, he’d been invited and he’d toured the facility and he’d only agreed because he thought maybe, possibly, there was a chance that Patrick might be able to go with him.

He hadn’t of course. Pete had whined and threw what he thought was a pretty amazing tantrum.

Brian had just rolled his eyes at him and had Zack toss him over his shoulder and carry him onto the transport.

He had pouted the whole way and Zack had given him his bag of peanuts in an attempt to console him.


Vegas was hot, Pete had stripped his uniform coat off the minute they got off the transport and contemplated stripping off the t-shirt and just running around half-naked. He could remember enjoying that for the five minutes that his parents had allowed him to be a child.

There was a car waiting for them and about twelve seconds after they pulled away from the terminal entrance he could hear it.

The light hum of a psychics mind. It was in turmoil and pain and there were no words, just the impressions of feeling.

When Pete poked and pushed in an effort to get more, to help if he could, the mind retreated so quickly that Pete couldn’t follow.

He kept his shields half-lowered; waiting for the second the mind came back out again and touched his.

It came out again when they entered the gates for Vegas Institute, tentative tendrils, like the person on the other end didn’t know if Pete was trustworthy.

Pete sent back images of Patrick, Patrick was his everything and he knew that the mind on the other end could feel that, Patrick was the reason that Pete was who he was and everyone said that the Constants were made for Psychics but Pete thought that he had been made for Patrick.

He kept his mind open, sending a steady stream of images of Patrick and himself and pushing comfort and peace at the mind. He thought it might be a boy, it felt like the mind of a boy though Pete hadn’t ever really communed with female Psychics before, so it might actually be the mind of a really masculine girl and he might get punched.

No one in Institute seemed to be able to sense the Psychic. He looked around and waited for someone to say something, to jump out of a nook and laugh at him.

He kept the boys mind behind a shield in the back of his mind when he met the Psychics they had on staff, no one noticed or questioned it, not one of those Psychics minds buzzed with the same exact sort of energy.


The boy, and Pete knew that it was a boy screamed in his mind.

Pain and fear and ‘oh my god he’s going to kill me, kill me, please someone help, help, help’.

It took Pete all of 30 seconds to get dressed, not in uniform, just jeans and a t-shirt and he was running from his room. Zack grabbed onto his shoulder and yanked him away from the door, pressing him up against the wall.

Pete knew he looked insane, his eyes were probably wide and half-crazed, figured he was going to sound insane as well. A voice in his head screaming for help, help, help.

“Zack,” he said, started. “Help.”


Zack drove, he’d commandeered one of the Institutes vehicles, Pete didn’t know how, he thought that Zack might have stolen it, and told Pete to tell him where to go.

Pete followed the weak, barely there thoughts of the boy. There were no more cries for help, there was just massive amounts of pain.

They went three blocks where Pete had Zack stop in front of what looked like an abandoned house, Pete couldn’t figure out how the boy had been that close and no one else in the Institute had found him, had gone to help him.

“Here?” Zack asked, Pete nodded and reached for the door. Zack gripped his arm and forced him to look at him.

“Stay behind me,” he ordered and Pete nodded because that was Zack’s ‘I will not be disobeyed and if you think about doing so I’ll lock you in the trunk for your own safety’ voice.

The front door was ajar and the minute that Pete walked through that door his mind was swamped, overwhelmed with the boy’s pain.

He directed Zack in the right direction and followed behind, staying close. He sent a continuous steam of ‘it’s okay, it’s okay, we’re here, we’re coming’.

He didn’t feel anybody else in the house, just the boy, but that didn’t mean that there wasn’t a non-Psychic lurking. Sometimes they couldn’t be felt or identified; sometimes they were just invisible sheets of paper that weren’t really there.

There was one room with the door closed, Zack wiggled the knob and it was locked. The boys mind screamed at him ‘here, here, I’m here.’

When Zack looked over at him he nodded and Zack barely pushed against the door before it was falling open under his weight.

The room was dark and stank of blood and pain and fear.

In the far corner there was a bed and Pete could just barely see the boy, he could see the way that one arm was raised above his head and when he walked slowly towards him he could see that the boy’s hand was cuffed to the railing of the bed.

Zack made a sound of anger and the boys eyes opened, fearful and scared and half-wild, Pete didn’t think it was possible but it looked like the boy managed to make himself disappear into the wall against his back.

Pete made a soothing noise and Zack made sure to stay behind Pete, between him and the door.

“Hi,” he said, he purposefully made his voice light, unimposing. “Hi, my name’s Pete, we’re here to help you.”

The boy stared at him, like he thought him a hallucination, like he was the best thing that the boy had ever seen in his entire life.

“You heard me,” the boy said, voice filled with wonder, with disbelief, with pain.

Pete grinned at him. “Well you were really loud, and it was kind of annoying and really hard to ignore.”


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September 2016


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