He's not entirely sure whether or not Adam's words are going to end up making him burst into tears, or if he's going to eventually end up smiling. But there's no way he can drag himself back to the land of stoic neutrality, not anymore. Maybe when he's forced to wake up again he'll be able to do so, but right now he's wavering on the edge of too many emotions, too many thoughts hanging like a fog in his mind and he has to wait for the dust to settle before he can think clearly again.
Eventually he manages to tug himself back, to look over Adam, his chest aching even though he doesn't know why. "I'm not going anywhere." There's no bitterness or anger left in his tone, only some form of quiet resolution. And maybe for a brief twitch of a moment, a flicker of a smile reaches his features. "At least here, you're stuck with me."
For a moment, Peter considers the benefits of telling Adam to give his other self some time. Which should be easy, considering he and Adam both have immeasurable quantities of it. But Adam knows him well enough already to know that to be the case. In fact, out of everyone, Peter would have to say that Adam might be one of the few who knows him best of all.
Again, he considers going quiet. Letting the rest of his words, his thoughts, dwindle to silence like he always lets them when they're too hard to let go of. Staring out back at the ocean, it would be easy enough to let the moment split back into solitude with the lines drawn in the sand between them. But he can't, because this is as much of a part of him as it is a part of them. "I missed you- your company, I mean." He pauses for a moment, stopping just short of running a sandy hand through his hair. "But I missed you too. Even after... I missed it. I was stuck with you there for four months, and whether or not any of it was real, doesn't matter- didn't matter. I still wished I had you, what we had, back." And still he doesn't sound sad. Forlorn, maybe, but entirely honest. It's just a fact, an admittance, something he still feels like Adam should know. That even he, though they'd never shared a physical connection, still found humanity in Adam through friendship, at the very least.
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Eventually he manages to tug himself back, to look over Adam, his chest aching even though he doesn't know why. "I'm not going anywhere." There's no bitterness or anger left in his tone, only some form of quiet resolution. And maybe for a brief twitch of a moment, a flicker of a smile reaches his features. "At least here, you're stuck with me."
For a moment, Peter considers the benefits of telling Adam to give his other self some time. Which should be easy, considering he and Adam both have immeasurable quantities of it. But Adam knows him well enough already to know that to be the case. In fact, out of everyone, Peter would have to say that Adam might be one of the few who knows him best of all.
Again, he considers going quiet. Letting the rest of his words, his thoughts, dwindle to silence like he always lets them when they're too hard to let go of. Staring out back at the ocean, it would be easy enough to let the moment split back into solitude with the lines drawn in the sand between them. But he can't, because this is as much of a part of him as it is a part of them. "I missed you- your company, I mean." He pauses for a moment, stopping just short of running a sandy hand through his hair. "But I missed you too. Even after... I missed it. I was stuck with you there for four months, and whether or not any of it was real, doesn't matter- didn't matter. I still wished I had you, what we had, back." And still he doesn't sound sad. Forlorn, maybe, but entirely honest. It's just a fact, an admittance, something he still feels like Adam should know. That even he, though they'd never shared a physical connection, still found humanity in Adam through friendship, at the very least.