— 𝐜 𝐨 𝐧 𝐭 𝐚 𝐜 𝐭

[possessum]

action / text / video / etc.
NOTE: I am forever backtag friendly and absolutely open to doing things from past events that won't really have an effect on things at any given time. For example, if you'd like to do something with Peter aged down or when he was his spider dream guide, etc.

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cw: themes of suicidal ideation

[possessum]

[ Peter blinks, surprised by the words — unsure exactly how to take them, for their.... unfamiliarity. This isn't what he knows: stuff being voiced aloud like that, so... cleanly and clearly and to the point. Isn't used to anyone telling him they owe him an apology, insisting that they do, even. ]

You really don't— have to make anything up to me, [ The teen fumbles over the words, awkward and shy and unsure, and his heart skipping an odd beat. He doesn't want John feeling... bad, guilty. ] Really. I've been okay.

[ Except he hasn't been okay, not really. "Okay" is a weird spectrum for Peter anyway, but lately.... especially lately.... through December and January, he's been... It's been especially hard. He'd been wondering about his family, about the things he's been realising about them over time, and it's all been building and building, and he'd told Luna that sometimes he thinks it'd be better if he wasn't here at all.

Peter swallows, eyes still wide. ]

Have you been okay? [ It's deflection in its way, but not only that. He has been wondering, been worried, very worried about John. Something clearly happened to him. ]

[oldhound]

[ John's still surprised to be saying them. It isn't that he doesn't mean them. It's that he doesn't let himself get so engrossed in things normally to warrant needing them. Apologies, that is. Normally there's whatever is happening popping off and him leaving with nothing else to say in the wreckage of it all.

He looks the boy over as he explains what he does. Stumbling over it and halting on certain things. He knows the routine. Trying to pull one over would be better served on a bloke that didn't check himself in and out of an asylum a handful of times since he was Peter's age. ] This is what okay looks like?

[ Sorry, mate, he isn't all that convinced. But he's here to talk, not judge. Not to push too far too quick and cock it all up again. The kid asks after him and he huffs softly, mouth turning up as he casts his face toward the ground, uncertain what to say. ]

Not really. Went home for a bit. Apparently, it was just a few days here but---it was longer there.

[possessum]

[ Peter blinks, yet again — because yet again, he's surprised, unsure how to react to this. It doesn't fit the normal pattern that he's used to, with adults. Not that he's trying to project his own parents onto John, but.... he doesn't know what else to look for, here. He's used to deflecting, and then the other person letting it happen. Backing away. Not pushing any further.

The most recent memory of this (and the last one Peter will ever have) is a painful one: his dad, gently suggesting that maybe Peter needs therapy. Maybe after what happened to his sister, he needs help. Peter, deflecting: the kneejerk reaction. His dad, immediately giving in. Making excuses to leave the room. And it hurts, to see him giving in. It hurts that his dad wouldn't fight more for him. Wouldn't... challenge him a little. Sometimes Peter had needed that. Needed someone to look at him and see that he's not okay, and not be afraid to say so.

.....And here John is, doing that exactly. The teen's mouth opens, clearly taken aback, then he sighs out through his nostrils a little. ]

I guess I've been better. [ Said a little bit sullen, like he doesn't want to be saying it. ......He appreciates it, under that. Watching John look downwards, Peter studies the older man quietly. So he did go home. ]

Fuck.... How long? [ he wonders, tone softening a bit. Almost encouraging, and a bit concerned, because.... fuck, he went home and then came back here. Peter slips out of the doorway, lets the door close behind him. Hands slipping into the front pockets of his warm hoodie, he joins John on the porch, looking at him, giving him all of his focus. ]