Isolation

He's gone

"I told him." Peter blurted out after hours of silence. He hadn't moved since the morning, spending that time worrying inside his head. He quickly turned to face Micky in the kitchen, tears in his eyes. "I told him. I didn't mean to, but it just happened."

"Hey, it's okay." Micky frowned and sat beside him.

"It's not!" Peter shook his head furiously. "I should've kept my mouth shut."

"Peter," He said sternly, "it's fine. What exactly did you tell him?"

Peter looked down and whispered something Micky couldn't catch.

"What was that?"

"Everything."

"Everything?" Micky clarified, still a little confused.

Peter nodded shamefully, the tears beginning to fall.

"I told him everything. I told him about the crash, about his memory. About everything that's been happening. I know we were supposed to pretend like nothing was wrong, but he could tell that there was something wrong. I tried to hide it, honest. But he saw right through me and I..." He sniffled. "I couldn't lie to him, Micky."

"Hey, now," Micky pulled him into a hug, "it's okay. You didn't do anything wrong, Peter, you hear? Don't even think otherwise for a second, okay?"

He nodded and looked back up to meet Micky's smile. After a minute or so, when Peter had calmed down, Micky spoke up again.

"What'd he say?" He asked quietly, unsure of what his reaction would be to such news. Peter thought about it for a minute before shaking his head.

"Nothing."

"Nothing?" Micky sat up. "How does he say nothing?"

Peter shrugged.

"He didn't say anything. He didn't really do anything either. Just sat there, emotionless. It was like he was just trying to process it all in. But I did kind of give him everything all at once."

"Did he get a headache?"

"No." He shook his head but thought about it for a minute. "Or, I don't think he did."

Micky nodded as he listened, releasing a deep sigh.

"He, um," Peter looked down at his hands as he continued, "he got up and left after a little while."

"He, what?!"

Peter squeaked and nodded, mentally preparing himself for whatever happened to him next.

"He just got up and walked out the front door. He didn't say anything about where he was going. I'm sorry, I-I didn't think to stop him. And now, he hasn't come home, and I don't know how he is or where he is or anything. And I know you're probably mad at me for not being more responsible and stuff-"

"Peter!" Micky said sternly, snapping him out of his ramblings. "It's fine. I'm sure he's fine."

He wasn't sure about it. In fact, he was terrified that something bad was going to happen. Or had already happened. A sense of helplessness washed over him as he gave Peter another hug, whispering more reassurances. This time, they were more for him than for Peter.