Is It Me I'm Keeping You Safe From? (Peter YB x Reader) (CONTINUES!!!)

Moving in.

Extending a long grey arm, Peter switched off the meaningless babbles of television and sunk back far into the sofa's embrace. He sighed. The couples on tv had been irritating him more than ever, he wasn't sure if he wanted to be them or wanted to be rid of them. Ever since he could remember Peter had been lonely, one of the main reasons clinging to the thought of a new big change in his life was keeping him in- arguably good spirits. His eyes wandered gradually to the source of knocking- perforating the silence. Someone In the complex corridor, though he didn't seem too fazed. Tapping three slender fingers on the chair's arm, Peter groaned, hauling himself up off of it entirely. The dank feel and smell haunting the room aided his every step to the door, worsening his appetite for anything. He took a last look at the emptied room of his late mother's and picked up the boxes of his last few things before answering the door. Peter stepped into the hallway without another glance while two patient men entered the apartment, manhandling the last of old furniture and dust. Out on the street waited a large removals van, Peter's small van parked behind it. He waited with his personal things in the vehicle until the men had finished and loaded their van.
A couple years ago Peter had given up his old apartment to move in and tend to his mothers growing age and sicknesses, the longer she lived the less sense she made. He had wanted to remember fondly back on his memories with her though as he drove now, with the removals van following closely behind, however forcing any good thoughts only brought his current mood down further. A frown was forming, and a storm stirred. He had been looking forward to a new place, with less dust and food that wasn't expired, he'd start a new chapter in his life, and finally find someone- well, anyone, to be around.
Later that evening, Peter's new apartment lifted his spirits. It was fully furnished, with no dust and a more modern feel overall. For once in his life he felt as if he might be in a home and not a house, somewhere truly comfortable. Again sinking into the chair, he felt a sigh of relief that the day ran smoothly, slipping down into comfort.

The small boy cowered, clutching onto the ragged jeans of his mother.
"YOU CAN'T TAKE ME AWAY, THERE'S NOTHING WRONG WITH ME! TAKE THE CHILD, H-he has, has these brain problems, he's a devils child! Always trying to get me in trouble! HERE, I DON'T CARE! I don't want him anymore!"
The child had been quickly ripped off her side by her hand and forcefully shoved towards the stranger, landing on his hands.
"Ma'am if you fail to cooperate we will take your house and your child," The stranger threatened, visibly concerned for the young boys welfare, "you have 14 days Mrs. King. Goodbye." The mother glared spitefully as the man retraced his steps out the door, and waited until he left before unleashing all the energy she pent up. Her face carved into a wicked grin, turning to her defenceless son. "YOU PATHETIC CHILD! WHAT'S WRONG WITH YOU?" The child knew he was going to be hit, her hand raised-

Peter awoke suddenly to the sound of a young woman's scream. He found it difficult to differentiate between fantasy and fiction, to soon realise it was just another bad dream. The woman's cry however, was not. He didn't have time to collect his thoughts when the ringing of a real, petrified scream echoed in his head. He stood up panicked, groggily rushing to the window to open it. He was greeted with the cold nights crisp air and a bright full moon illuminating the otherwise dark, abstruse street. A cold bitterness swept over him resulting in a quick shiver. Peter's eyes dashed the road in a desperate attempt to locate the shrill cry. They landed on a subway entrance, he struggled to see anyone peering into blackness. Looking about himself haphazardly, he realised he didn't need to take much to see what was going on.
He scrambled out of his apartment with not much more than clothes and keys, hurrying down the steps, it was definitely sometime after midnight. A cacophony of hastened steps disrupted any former peace in the new complex, echoing off the walls as a lonesome struggle in darkness. His determination saved him from any falls or slips, he felt as though if he hadn't come running to do something, he would lose any meaning his life had left. Something about this felt like fate, running to save someone- to be worth something to someone who needs it felt right. He felt... needed?
Peter had soon left the building and continued to follow the sound. Someone was terrified, it was a very clear type of sound too. Someone needed help- his help. He had to do this, not only for them but for his sake too, for his sanity. Reaching the subway steps he forcibly slowed himself until he could hide behind a neighbouring wall. The screaming had ceased to a desperate dispute between the girl's voice and a man's. gathering the courage to peek, Peter tilted his head around the corner to glimpse the worrying quarrel. Thoughts of why no one else had come to her aid irritated him, as If everyone was simultaneously turning a blind eye to what clearly could be something life threatening.
He peered surreptitiously. He saw the figure of a rather short young woman, similar age to him, possibly a couple inches over five foot, clothed casually in blacks and whites. He couldn't quite make out her face, only part of a fringe that stuck up playfully under the rim of a cap. The man was large, Peter was comparably slim, however they seemed to share a similar height. There were two more men there, he noticed. Deep in a worrying argument, Peter watched as the girl turned her head while talking. He shocked himself as he watched. For the first time in his life, Peter's stomach fell ill with every movement the stranger made. Eyes wandering about her features and figure closely like a curiously naive animal. He wondered if the instinctual urge to smell, feel and study this woman was at all normal. She was beautiful. Perhaps not by a societal standard but to him he couldn't grasp the concept of love, not even now, but you'd know what he was feeling. This girl, now unknowingly sporting a faint golden glow about her in his eyes, was beautiful to Peter. And he could watch all day.
he hadn't actually planned any sort of way to help the girl until now, following instinct. He now knew probably why passersby were turning a blind eye, this was impossible, why didn't he just call the police? The thoughts spiralled in his mind like a curse, stepping back to his original hiding place.
"Who's there?" A low growling voice boomed in Peter's direction. Startled, he closed his mouth with his hands. The girl was easily pushed aside as the man that spoke slogged dangerously towards the sound of Peter's accidentally loud stepping. Thoughts flooded his mind, making his heart race and head sweat.
Immediately as the large man entered his peripheral, Peter struck without hesitation. A strong jab to the face with as much force as Peter could muster. The man stumbled backwards on his feet, shocked. The girl's eyes widened while the two other men shoved past her to take Peter to his grave. Peter ran into view, punching a second man in the abdomen.
"GO... RUN!" He shouted at the girl, frozen still in fear in the distance. She stumbled on her steps and quickly turned to escape. She glanced back a final time to see Peter suffer a serious punch from the third man landing him on the ground, she promptly fled and didn't turn back again.