[Out of nowhere, a ball comes flying toward Peter. It misses him narrowly. He looks up to search for whoever’s responsible.]
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@pchristophr
[Out of nowhere, a ball comes flying toward Peter. It misses him narrowly. He looks up to search for whoever’s responsible.]
littleball-ofsunshine-tarabailey:
You’re welcome! If you ever need a pick me up, let me know. ‘Kay?
Yeah. Yeah, definitely. How's everything been goin' with you?
Can I just say that Peter is BREAKING MY HEART with this whole sadness thing (the Kat thread) OH MY GOD
i’m a sucker for angst i need ALL THE ANGST
oliver-or-orpheus:
…I’m so sorry, Peter.
Yeah, well. Shit happens, right?
hunterosmund:
[Hunter nodded and repeated his friend’s words in a low mumble.] You love and you lose… [He sighed and let silence surround them. He knew somewhat of what Peter was feeling. With everything that happened to Hazel he could guess what his dear friend felt or was thinking, but Hunter wasn’t going to make this about him. They didn’t need to compare love lives, they needed to forget about them. He watched Peter take another drink from the bottle and sighed again, he wasn’t going to lecture his friend about how to handle this because that would make him a hypocrite.] I think I have something that might help.
You know, get you out of your head. And it doesn’t involve alcohol. [Hunter chuckles and practically jumped up from his seat.] I got you something on my travels, it’s in my car. Don’t move, I’ll be right back. [The longhaired boy disappeared for about ten minutes before returning to the spot he left Peter. while in Japan Hunter found a collector of authentic swords and he just couldn’t leave without getting at least one for his best friend. In fact, he left with three. There was a samurai sword set (or this set) he knew Peter would absolutely love, he held the smallest sword behind his back as he approached his friend again.] This is only part of your present, I couldn’t exactly get the others through customs, but they are en route to Portland as we speak. [He moved his hands from his back and held the smaller sword in his palms and watched for Peter’s reaction.]
[A smile found its way onto Peter's lips, curving his mouth with gratitude for his friend.] You serious, dude? The hell did you get me? [The questions were left unheard as Hunter left to go get the souvenir, but Peter didn't mind it. He waited patiently for once, too tired for his usual jumpiness. In the meanwhile, he wondered what Kat could be doing right now. Not helping, he thought, but then again, he'd always been a little masochistic.]
[When Hunter came back with his gift, Peter ended up burying his face into his hands.] Oh, my gods, you didn't. [He immediately looked up once he got past the initial embarrassment, grinning, and took the black and white sword set into his hands.] You trying to woo me or something? Because it's totally working, I gotta say. [He turned the set over in his palms then, admiring the small weapons.] Shit, man. This is fucking awesome, thank you.
[He opens his mouth, then closes it, opting not to stick to his original comment. Instead he nods, biting his lip. He clears his throat.] But anyway, I mean, it’s not like a radio would explode, right? Microwaves and radios are… different. Radios are less… explode-y.
Uh, well. Hm. I guess? I mean, sure! Sure, let’s just say they are. Highly doubt anything bad’s gonna happen, so rest assured, pal.
the trashbag in my room :D
OH YOU~
Hi, just wanted to say love how you portray Peter!
this was from a month ago ooooh my gooooosh i’m so sorry and thank you x 378974435 for the super lovely message xoxoxo
Peter…
She made you happy, though, right? Even if it wasn’t forever?
[Peter mustered up a smile, knowing Oliver was trying. Trying to look at the bright side, which Peter himself couldn’t see.]
Yeah. Yeah, Ollie. She did.
The Visit || Open
TW: Rehab, withdrawals, drug use, depression
Phillip walked down the hall, his feet bare, his curls in disarray, and his clothes baggy but incredibly soft compared to their normal worn out state (how dare they wash his clothes! What an outrage). His bruises had almost finished healing, the cuts and scrapes had gone away, and he actually smelled good. True, he was very well groomed. In fact, he probably hadn’t been that clean since they brought him home from the hospital as an infant. But with all of that aside, he looked like a mess. There were obvious bags under his eyes, a very tired feel in the way he walked and spoke - very mellow to his normally giddy, childlike, and playful personality.
He had been through his withdrawals, had come back alright, but he was still worn. With very little time in the outdoors and no contact with his loved ones aside from his moms who visited on the weekends and Wednesdays, he was very lonely and out of his element. They kept saying that he had accomplished a lot, but he still felt, well, guilty and sad about all of it.
Today was visiting day, and he was incredibly nervous. They said someone had come to see him, but he wasn’t really sure who yet. Fidgeting nervously, he made his way towards the visiting room. He made it all the way to the door with the company of the one friend he had made while he was there, Leena, when he came to a very abrupt stop. The panic set in his chest as he stared at the door, fear seeping into his pores. His breathing became erratic, his heart in a frenzy. He was about to turn around when he felt her hand slide around his.
“Hey…” she whispered. “It’s okay. You’ve got this. Okay?”
It took him a while, what seemed like forever to his thudding heartbeat. But, finally, he worked up the courage and nodded, reaching out, opening the door, and at last, stepping inside.
If Peter had allowed himself to accept that what he was experiencing the entire drive to the facility was fear, well, he wouldn’t have been himself. Likewise, he’d stubbornly ignored the way his hands were shaking, the way his insides felt as if they’d turned into brick, and the way he’d been speeding by an extra seven miles per hour. He couldn’t stop thinking about how he hadn’t done anything to help prevent all of this. How he should’ve but hadn’t.
Cops didn’t pull him over, and no accidents arose due to Peter’s reckless driving. Signing in happened in a blur. He found himself sitting in the waiting room with his hands wrung together and feet tapping a steady beat on the waxy, linoleum floor. It was so quiet. Why was it so fucking quiet—
Finally, the sound of a door squeaking open pulled him from his thoughts.
“Phil,” he croaked out, voice a bit gravelly from disuse.
His friend was looking a little rough, but at the same time better in ways that counted. Peter wasn’t sure how that made any sense, but it did.
Standing up, he walked over to Phillip and hugged him like it’d been years. “Hey, man. How’s it goin’?"
Peter Pan (A letter from Phillip)
So, it turns out one of your Lost Boys was more lost than he thought. I’m sorry for disappearing for so long on you like that. I wish I could tell you where I was, man, but to be honest, I had no idea where I was and I’m not even being metaphorical. I’m so sorry my moms were jumping down your throat trying to find me, that must have been so hard for you having no clue and them demanding all those answers from you, ugh. And I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you when you needed me. I know Kat disappearing on you is something that hurt you real fuckin’ bad, and I swear to god or gods or whatever we believe in that I would never intentionally or soberly hurt you. That doesn’t change anything. I know I did anyway. I know there are a lot of ways that I’ve hurt you in this friendship, being high or not. I’m sorry, Pete. I really am.
And I’m sorry for writing you this stupid letter, but I’m just so god damned ashamed of myself, I don’t know how I can ever look at you again. I couldn’t bring myself to tell you to your face, which makes me even more of a coward I know.
I just wanted to say
I don’t know how to say
I guess what I’m saying is
I hit rock bottom, Pete. I really did, and I didn’t even see it coming, but now I see all of it. I used to block it all out, how everyone laughs at me, how much of a joke I am, how sad I actually am on the inside, I hid it under all of these jokes and relationships and drugs and sex and now, now I see all of it. It’s all there, and I’m so fucking sad, it hurts so bad, Pete, I can’t do this anymore.
I need help.
My moms are gonna give you the information to the clinic I’ll be at. I’m not gonna be able to have visitors for about a week they said, and I can’t text or use the Internet or anything. But… I don’t know. You don’t have to. I don’t expect you to. But if you wanna come visit me sometime
I could
I would really
that would mean a lot to
I’ll be there.
I’m so sorry, Peter. I love you, man.
Phillip
“Fuck.”
Peter dropped the letter onto the kitchen table, taking a seat and running a hand through his unusually unkept, unwashed hair. He dropped his hand onto the wooden surface. It landed with a hard thump before his fingers curled into an angry fist.
He’d tried to dissuade Phillip from continuing his use of drugs in the past but never got too far knowing how much the boy had become dependent on it. It wasn’t as if Phillip was necessarily receptive to the idea, either. It had always been one of those touchy subjects that Peter felt as if he shouldn’t bring up.
At that moment, however, he wished he would’ve tried a little harder. Wished he hadn’t been so caught up in his own issues to have neglected everyone else’s.
Looking down at the address he’d scribbled onto his palm earlier, Peter tried not to let the overwhelming guilt he was feeling consume him. Alas, there it was, glaring back at him, telling him to stand up and fucking move.
The screech of a chair being pushed back filled the room shortly, then the rattle of keys and the slam of a door being shut.
The house stilled, and all was quiet.
[He shakes his head in a negative.] I don’t think so. Would you really fix it if there were? Do you know how?
Won’t hurt to give it a shot. [Tucking his phone back in his pocket, Peter grabs the radio again in order to turn it in his hands and examine it.] Fixed a microwave before, believe it or not. [He pauses while picking at what seems to be an opening to the workings of the machine inside.] Could’ve blown my entire house down but didn’t, so.
I count that as a total success.
Love you, Peter Pan! You is smart, you is kind, and you is important, kay? Never forget that!
[Laughing softly, Peter hugs her and pats her back a few times before pulling away again.] I won’t now. Thanks.
[Hunter makes sure not to interrupt, clearly something was bothering his friend which concerned him. He listened and when Peter finished all he could do was nod. He grabbed the bottle of alcohol and took a drink as he searched for the right words.] Well…you didn’t listen because you were in love. Love makes you blind, and deaf and pretty much fucking senseless. [He sets the bottle down and sighs.]
I’m sorry man, I wish I was here for you when all this went down. This is a shitty situation and I know it hurts a lot, I wish I could tell you when you won’t hurt anymore but truth is it might not stop. You just have to learn how to live with it, make it more bearable. [He places his hand on Peter’s back, trying to comfort him.] There’s always hope that she’ll come back. I may not know Kat all that well, but I got closer to her before I left. I’d like to think she ditched because she loves you too and that scares the shit out of her. And Kat being Kat, fear isn’t something she experiences, it’s something she delivers. I don’t know man, but when she realizes there is nothing to run from she could come back.
[Senseless. Something Peter had always known he was but never admitted to. He shakes his head at Hunter’s apology and turns toward him.] Nah. Ya love and ya lose, right? Life goes on like it always does.
[The comforting gesture that comes next has Peter smiling, albeit weakly.] Maybe. I’m not about to get my hopes up, though. Just. Gotta get out of my own head for a while. [His gaze trails down to the bottle of liquor, staying there until he decides to take another swing.] Thanks, Hunt. Don’t think I could stand being by myself right now.
Yep. But it was to be expected right? At least... that’s what everyone else said.
It’s fine. It’s a shame that it’s broken, but it can probably still be fixed, right?
Sure. Might take a little googling, but. Yeah. Most likely doable. [Peter takes out his phone and taps at it. His eyes dart across an article before he looks up at Henry.] You think there’s any spare parts lying around somewhere?
Phillip shook his head and slung his arm around Peter’s shoulder. “Hey. Listen to me. You are not stupid. You’re like, the smartest out of our whole group of Lost Boys here. What you are is curious, brave, a d v e n t u r o u s. Of course you didn’t listen to us. You’d be playing it safe and following the rules, and you’re way too cool for that.”
[Phillip’s words surrounded Peter in a blanket of comfort, but the hold his grief had on him was unyielding. It tore any semblance of relief away, leaving him grateful but feeling no less foolish for being played. For being abandoned.]
[He quickly masked whatever bitter emotion he knew his face was currently displaying, however, with a pensive smile.] Thanks, Phil. I mean it. [Peter looked at his friend, and one of his hands came up to squeeze at Phillip’s shoulder.] Guess it was just time that I paid my price for being too cool.