"Yes, you do." It was why he was all that he was to Adam. He knew he would never let that go, that Peter would always be with him no matter how much it hurt. He knows, too, that he'll always be with Peter and the best he can do is hope vainly he hasn't left an entirely bad impression. Even before his latest great betrayal, he had some good memories with Peter--had shared things with him he'd never considered sharing with anyone else. And though, at the time, it had been an easy enough ploy to have Peter falling back into his arms; the ultimate test of trust, it had ended on a much different note. He knows to himself he could've shared much less to achieve the same result. It hadn't mattered though, because Peter had been the first friendly ear in his most current lifetime, maybe even two back.

As cavalier as he played it off, he trusted Peter as steadfastly as the empath had trusted him. And though he can see it clear on this Peter's face, it's his own breakage he feels, his own failure ripping him to shreds. If he had destroyed his own chance--his only chance--to have forever love and to forever love, then Peter was right about one thing: he would have to make it as worthwhile as it was soul-shattering.

"No one will ever measure up, Peter. And I'm not sure I want them to." He goes quiet, the neverending fountain of tears he'd become ending on that decisive note. "There won't be a 12, but as long as I know.. As long as Peter Petrelli and Adam Monroe exist in the same world, I won't give up either. I can't."

Perhaps he wouldn't do with his life what Peter would want, and he knows he certainly can't hold the illusion of doing him proud, but as long as he soldiers on he still has a chance. And maybe that can be enough, for now.