Chapter Text
Peter normally enjoyed car rides. The constant rhythmic vibrations and background speeding by allowed him to venture into his own mind for once.
He didn't have to worry about school or responsibilities, his parents holding off their nagging for the time being.
Though Peter supposes now he won't ever be bothered by his parents again.
The backs of his eyes sting as the revelation hits him, as though it hadn't come to him over and over again for the past week.
Peter normally enjoyed car rides but he's reminded all too easily why he isn't enjoying this one. Memories intrude without knocking.
Sitting in class with his back hunched painfully over the desk Peter quietly works. The sound of graphite on paper isn't nagging him today, too entranced with the paragraph he's writing to hear it. Right now his mind is like a live circuit. Idea after idea comes to him as he crafts what he thinks to be his best written work yet. The words, sentences, and paragraphs all come flowing out as he captures them down on paper with eager haste.
The world around is a blur and his only thoughts lie with this essay. However, even if this were not the case, he still wouldn't have been able to know that a faculty member was currently walking down the hall. Wouldn't have known her destination was his classroom. Wouldn't be able to see the grim look on her face and the tenderness of her shoulders.
And he definitely wouldn't have known in a million years the information that she carried.
He was irritated to have his concentration broken but knew better than to show it in his face and tone. Obediently getting up from his desk he abandoned his work, unknowingly for good. Calmly walking to the front and then out into the hallway he looked up at the woman waiting for him. She was the superintendent, a close friend of his mother's. Becoming curious of what was going on he asked her an obvious question, "Is there something you'd like to discuss with me ma'am?". His sharp eyes were taking in the nervous features staring back at him, nerves beginning to stand on end.
Taking a rough swallow before answering the woman's voice was shaky and taut, "Y-yes Peter, there is, Concerning your...parents".
The sudden, intense thundering of his heart broke out in his ears. Eyes definitely betraying his newfound anxiety he stared into the equally distressed grey pair in front of him. " Are they alright?" His voice was high pitched with worry.
His stomach dropped when he was met with a sorrowful look. With watering eyes the woman choked out:
"No, I'm afraid not."
The rest of the moment is a blur to him. He just remembers the cold numbness that flooded his body like ice water. He followed the superintendent to the front of the building, out the doors, and into one of his father's company cars.
It had been a crash. On their way to an associate's house they'd lost control of the vehicle and swerved into a steep ditch. The details of the incident still weren't very clear to him.
In the present Peter was sitting in the passenger seat of his older brother's car. Neither one spoke to each other and chose instead to stare out the windows. Peter's neck was growing tired, however, from being craned to his right for so long. Braving the waters he stole a glance towards his left.
If he had been anyone else Peter would've thought James eerily calm for someone who had just lost both parents. But Peter knew his brother well, and could notice the subtlest change in body language like a blaring road sign.
James was on edge. Very on edge. Knuckles hadn't turned white yet but his grip on the steering wheel wasn't loose enough. His jaw wasn't clenched but you could see his muscles tense in exertion to keep it that way.
The airy, carefree older brother Peter knew wasn't in the car with him right now. Instead he was replaced by this morose figure. Though maybe this is just the kind of person James had become since the last time he saw him.
That would have been 6 years ago, when Peter was 7. James and their father had been having a falling out which ended in James being kicked out and displaced as heir to the family empire. Peter took his place.
Peter realized it wasn't beyond reality that his kind brother could have turned cold and bitter in those 6 years. He'd only been 15 when he was thrown out by his family and stripped of a secure future. Now the person who had been given his stolen crown was sitting beside him.
Peter would be upset too.
The swirl of confusing and negative emotions was left to sit in Peter's stomach. The radio had never been turned on so the silence within the car was the only feedback he was given. Uncomfortableness began to curl up under his skin and against his control his body began to fidget.
Thumb rubbing over the junction between the other hands thumb and index finger over and over and over again. If Peter kept rubbing this spot maybe he could rub out these nasty emotions too. At least he hoped that would be the case. And so he continued to go over the spot, eyes glazed in worry.
Unbeknownst to Peter, James had also been watching him from the corner of his eye. The neurotic self soothing hadn't flown under his radar. It broke his heart a little.
There wasn't much he could do while he was behind the wheel but he could try and make conversation.
"How have you been Peter?" He asked, eyes never leaving the road. He doesn't get a response right away, which was to be expected. The other is quiet for a short while longer before finally speaking up, "Horrible".
The corners of James' lips curl a little bit but there's no humor in the motion. "Even before all this happened?".
Peter is slow to answer once more. He'd never really stopped to think about how he felt. Or, it's better to say he actively stopped himself from thinking about it. Spend too much time mulling over what lurks below and you'll get lost to that dark fog. Peter knew he could lose hours of his time to thinking about how his life made him feel and so he simply shut the door on those emotions.
Deciding on a neutral answer Peter responds without looking towards his brother, "No, I was…fine before all this". He's met with unreadable silence.
James knows that's a lie but there's nothing to be gained from tactless prying. Choosing to let Peter keep his mask on, James instead reaches for the radio dials. The rest of the car ride is filled only with the faceless voices from the speakers.