[ Though it isn't something contagious β as far as he knows β Peter does fear passing this dark thing along, even if indirectly. Even if in the form of... misfortune, for misfortune clearly has attached itself to him, and it could spread to others, getting into them like an infection. Perhaps whatever entity has bound itself to him would seek to feed off of others, too β perhaps it has targeted him, his immediate family, and perhaps poor Molly was... caught up in that, in the wrong place at the wrong time. It may seem a dramatic, tragic idea, but Peter has entertained it more than once. A dark, horrible thought, one he could never divulge to Will. He doesn't think he bears the blame for the accident, necessarily, but some part of Peter can't help harbouring the thought that it... had to do with him, somehow, and it's cast an awful guilt inside of him, something festering quietly.
He does fear affecting anyone else. Causing grief or loss or ache β his cousin has already experienced those things, but what if it doesn't end, there? What if this... malady could influence Will further? He may hardly know the man but Peter wouldn't want to devastate him more. As much as he fears what's inside of him, he almost prefers to keep it there, inside. Locked away.
As childlike as he'd clung to his cousin, it's easy to release him β even if it's at once incredibly difficult. He's used to this, to setting himself apart from others. It wrenches something in his chest, but he can still do it, and knows he must. And yet, as Will maintains that grasp on his sleeves, keeps the tether between them there at the very ends, Peter isn't pulling away from that, just remains sitting there, his own expression as miserable as the one of the man's reflected before him. He doesn't know what to do, what'sβ right or wrong, butβ
'I'm not afraid of you.'
He blinks, rapidly, visibly surprised. He hadn'tβ expected that, despite the frenzied warnings he'd spilled to the other man, despite the fact that it could have seemed he was encouraging Will to be afraid of him. Peter hadn't even quite realised that's what he had been doing, so now it stuns him to hear Will respond in that way. His mouth parts, then closes again, too many thoughts battling themselves to form a string of fully coherent, logical thought. He's exhausted, and freezing, and still incredibly confused, and despite what he's divulged to his cousin, the offer has already wrapped itself around Peter warmly andβ expanded further, into something else. A request. Perhaps it's selfish of him, perhaps too childish, but the fear he's felt for so long is suddenly met with someone who has... outright said they're not afraid of him, and whether that's true or not, whether it's just something Will's telling him now to calm him down or to be able to keep an eye on him, Peter has needed to hear that.
...The request spills hurriedly from his lips before he can think to stop it. Whispered like a secret, brow pinched, his tired body tilts forwards again like he might topple once more into the man's chest. ]
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He does fear affecting anyone else. Causing grief or loss or ache β his cousin has already experienced those things, but what if it doesn't end, there? What if this... malady could influence Will further? He may hardly know the man but Peter wouldn't want to devastate him more. As much as he fears what's inside of him, he almost prefers to keep it there, inside. Locked away.
As childlike as he'd clung to his cousin, it's easy to release him β even if it's at once incredibly difficult. He's used to this, to setting himself apart from others. It wrenches something in his chest, but he can still do it, and knows he must. And yet, as Will maintains that grasp on his sleeves, keeps the tether between them there at the very ends, Peter isn't pulling away from that, just remains sitting there, his own expression as miserable as the one of the man's reflected before him. He doesn't know what to do, what'sβ right or wrong, butβ
'I'm not afraid of you.'
He blinks, rapidly, visibly surprised. He hadn'tβ expected that, despite the frenzied warnings he'd spilled to the other man, despite the fact that it could have seemed he was encouraging Will to be afraid of him. Peter hadn't even quite realised that's what he had been doing, so now it stuns him to hear Will respond in that way. His mouth parts, then closes again, too many thoughts battling themselves to form a string of fully coherent, logical thought. He's exhausted, and freezing, and still incredibly confused, and despite what he's divulged to his cousin, the offer has already wrapped itself around Peter warmly andβ expanded further, into something else. A request. Perhaps it's selfish of him, perhaps too childish, but the fear he's felt for so long is suddenly met with someone who has... outright said they're not afraid of him, and whether that's true or not, whether it's just something Will's telling him now to calm him down or to be able to keep an eye on him, Peter has needed to hear that.
...The request spills hurriedly from his lips before he can think to stop it. Whispered like a secret, brow pinched, his tired body tilts forwards again like he might topple once more into the man's chest. ]
Can I stay with you tonight?