[ Peter finds himself stunned and surprised by how.... "easily" might not be the best word for it, but how readily all of this comes out. Things that he's never told anyone before, never thought he could.

But it's almost like there's been a cut sliced through his skin, and things come bleeding out, quick and messy. All of it feels surreal, and maybe it's only now, that he's faced with a professional in all of this... spooky shit that he can open up in a particular way. ....Someone who's treating it like it's real. Even if there's parts that he still can't bring himself to say, this much right now is a lot.

And he doesn't know how to handle it, how to pace himself well, threatens to get overwhelmed abruptly — the touch to his shoulder is grounding in the way he maybe needs it to be, and he's giving a soft sound. A nod, that same obedience, grateful this time as he moves to sit down on the couch, hands shuddering slightly as he places them in his lap.

'All right. You're all right here, you're doing well.'

He takes a few moments, stares down at the floor. Wanted something specific from him..... ]

There um. There was a woman. Earlier that day. I saw her when I was at school, or... I thought I saw her. No one else seemed to notice. But she was... across the street. She was angry at me or something, I don't fucking— I don't know. She was shouting.

[ He'd felt so... dazed as it had happened. Like being in a fever dream. But looking back on it now frightens him, and his fingers curl into his palms, tightly. ]

She knew my name. She said.... 'I expel you.'

[ Slowly, the teen looks back over to Johanna, eyes wide and throat tight. ]

Do you think they were trying to.... kill me?