[ It's a question Peter hasn't even considered, much less talked about with anyone else. Everything just before his arrival here happened so fast, so... violently, that it wrenched the breath out of him and he hasn't really been able to breathe again until.. now.

His eyes drift to the grass, wet and heavy and struggling to keep focus again for a moment. He can't trust anyone or anything, but he finds something inside of himself opening up to the boy. He feels... safe. ]

It's... [ He swallows. ] It was like something wanted to hurt me. They probably thought I did it to myself, acting out or--or something. [ His voice drops to a whisper. An involuntary, sharp shudder slips through him. ]

But it wasn't me. It was something... inside me. [ His eyes widen slowly as he speaks, as he voices it out for the first time. It doesn't make any sense, and his hands move to the sides of his head, fingers curling into messy waves. What the fuck happened to him?

Staring at the boy gives him something to focus on other than himself. It is pretty obvious he's skirting around it, but Peter doesn't call him out on it. The boy could be in danger, so he finds himself asking a question that'll at least let him know whether that danger is something to have to worry about here. ]

Did... it happen here, or back home?