@stcrk gets a lost amnesiac hurt peter because I love pain
He was so cold. So cold. The rain had been coming down - he didn't know how long, he realised, with a foggy distance that made it feel immensely unimportant. The icy sensation in his skin, the soaked clothes, none of it seemed important, although some distant part of himself was worried about just how stiff his joints were starting to get. He'd always struggled with the cold. No... that wasn't true, was it? Why was he ... where was he going? When he tried to think about - anything, his head pounded even more, waves of nausea crashing over him.
The doorway loomed. Reaching out, pressing his palm to it for a moment, he swayed. Exhaustion crashed through his narrow frame, now - he slapped his palm on it, again, three, four - five - ten - he lost track, slipping against the door and to the ground, huddling against it and coughing, waves of pain crashing through him. The numbness from the cold and the rain didn't seem to matter any more ... none of it did. Safety. Here, somehow, there was - was safety. He looked listlessly at the blood running down his arm, trying to remember where the injuries had come from... god, it hurt. It all hurt.
Peter felt like time had been - wrong, for a while. He'd missed things. These clothes weren't his. Every part of him... his head, fuck, his head...
"Please..." he rasped, not sure what he was asking for. "Please..."