[ Hurting himself is definitely also a viable concern; that... has been painfully obvious as of late. Peter gives an almost ashamed expression, a sort of wince, looking downwards again. He knows he's fucked up. Whatever happened to him in the classroom, right before he'd been... transported here or whatever — whether it was a seizure or he'd just lost his absolute fucking mind, he'd ended up breaking his own nose in the process, so.... yeah. Yeah, he's bad off. ]

......I know. I should probably be in a padded room somewhere.

[ He tries to say it with a sardonic edge, but it just comes out with a note of obvious upset, voice hollow and hoarse. Yeah. He's just like Mom. ]

But it's— there's a guy here who helps me out. Usually he's with me, I don't know why I came here by myself..... stupid. [ He furrows his brow, upset with himself. ]

I uh. Maybe I should call him. He can make sure I don't facesmash into any other innocent people on the way back to the apartment.

[ That is definitely not what you were doing, Peter ]