— 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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[possessum]

[ It's like waking up from a dream — that period of time where you're sitting up in bed trying to remember what's real and what isn't, and already you're forgetting what you dreamed about, but you haven't quite touched full reality yet. It's like that period, only extended. Peter's been stuck there ever since unraveling himself from the others at the hotel, ever since sitting down beside Henry on the bus, gazing out in silence, wide-eyed, glazy.

Now they're walking slowly down the familiar street, the one he'd trespassed several times by now ever since waking up all bruised and broken in Deerington. Walks to and from school, the only place he ever really ventured to outside of the walls of the home he shares with Henry.

'It's weird to be back.'

He looks over at her, blinking in the sunshine. The weather feels weird, too: bright and light and free. ...A stark contrast to where they'd been for awhile, deep down under the ocean in damp darkness only ever dimly-lit at best. ]

...Yeah. [ He agrees, and his voice comes out a little hoarse, like he hasn't used it in awhile. He's still in the ridiculously fancy tuxedo he'd worn to the New Year's thing, coattails and gloves and all, and Peter feels so disconnected from himself that he almost has to laugh. Has time really stood still here for months? Or has it passed by with them? ]

Wonder if all our food rotted.

[ Light-hearted on the surface, but his voice is weighted with something. In the unknown, and he's... afraid of what they might find when they get back? After all that... it feels almost like there might not even be a house to come back to. Might not be anything. ]

[nakedsingularity]

<sub>[Silence suits her just fine--it always has, where Peter's concerned. He disappears into his fortress of solitude, and she's allowed the same without that often tedious air of "I'm only being quiet while I figure out how to get you talking" from another person who can't sit still with a lapse in conversation. There were days she used to worry Peter was a little too quiet and would break all her own rules trying to coax him out of it. Today she's glad for the time and the space to think.

He catches her off guard with that completely mundane thought, though. Beyond the people themselves, she'd given more consideration to the state of things she'd left behind in Reston and what she'd been coming back to in Deerington, less the state what they'd be coming back to in town.]</sub>

Shit. _{[There's dawning realization and an attempt at a similar light-heartedness in the word.]} I hadn't even thought of that. I always thought if I got out of here I wouldn't have to worry about coming back...

_{[Clearly that hadn't worked out.]}

If you end up ralphing from the smell, you're cleaning that one up on your own.

_{[But she hears it, that undercurrent of pensive foreboding. Apparently she hasn't been gone so long she's fallen out of tune with him. She turns her head to study him.]}

Are... you sorry to be back?