[ What the man says makes Peter think about his own... situation. (Is he dead, back home? Did he die? Did his whole family die? Was that real or was it just some nightmare? Where does the nightmare end, and reality begin? He doesn't know. He doesn't know anything.

....Except that if this is Hell, he deserves to be there.)

He keeps walking with the man, looking down at the step when directed to be careful, taking his time not to fall down, becoming painfully aware of just how wobbly he is. ]

I think.... there's a room. I've been staying in a room. [ He pauses, reflecting on it with a slight frown. A room... no, an apartment. ]

....The apartment building. Someone helped me find some place to stay, someplace safe. A boy. Um. [ Memory keeps seeping in, and he finds his free hand moving to the pocket of his hoodie, pulling out the phone he was given here. ]

I don't remember his name, but his number's in here. We can call him.