Chapter 7
Peter's head pounds in sync with his heart as he flees the overwhelming memories of those no longer with him.
Tears, dormant since before he even could remember, welled up at the waterline of his eyes, his nose running with snot. As he fights back tears on the bustling streets of New York, attempting to find his way back to the only place he knows as 'home'. Home is Matt's couch. Home is Wade's tight embrace, which both Peter and Matt try to resist despite secretly loving it. Home is the face of that little blonde boy he sees in his nightmares before being shaken awake.
Before Peter realized it, he had barely entered Hell’s Kitchen. The panting breaths, having stopped, still stressed his lungs to the point where it felt as though they were burning.
Finally, he makes it to Matt’s place, the neon billboard shining somewhat dimly in the sunlight, now scrambling up the stairs and almost knocking the door down. He’s inside before he could even register the people in the main area. He’s collapsing in on himself, tears slipping down his face, his facade of being “impenetrable to any emotion,” as Wade liked to tell him.
Then, he looks up, his eyes searching the living room to find either Matt or Wade. He sees Matt; he also sees a “stranger” he’s never met before, but he’s seen pictures of him; it's Foggy Nelson.
Before Matt could make his way to him from the kitchen, he’s standing up straight, wiping his face, and looking down in a sort of embarrassment he’s not used to.
"Sorry, I didn't know you had visitors, Matty,” Peter says, his voice laced with embarrassment and a sort of humor that’s so flat, almost like he’s never said a joke before.
"It's fine, Peter. You okay, man, you seem shaken up. Something happened?" Matt says it in a concerned voice, almost like a mother hen.
"Nothing, nothing at all happened, don’t worry,” Peter says in a forceful voice, trying to convey the message to him to stop asking.
"Umm, so not to intrude, but who are you?" Foggy says, confused as to who the man standing in the middle of his best friend's apartment is.
"I'm Peter; it’s nice to meet you, foggy. Matt’s told me a lot about you,” Peter says, a slight smile gracing his lips—a smile that feels so irregular on his face.
"Only good things, I hope,” Foggy says, chuckling a bit, flustered at the thought of his friend talking about him.
"Of course, I’m going to go t’a sleep. I’m exhausted; can y’a tell Wade to pass the message on to Weasel?" Peter says, a look of exhaustion crossing his face.
"Okay, Pete, I’ll tell him get some rest. You look absolutely drained,” Matt says, looking even more concerned than before.
"Yeah, yeah, Matty, whatever you want, have a good day, Mr. Foggy,” Peter says dismissively to them before heading into the little guest room Matt had that Peter converted into his own.