"I'm fine." the words were blank, not even halfhearted, just empty words with no meaning, spoken out of instinct more than anything else. He was too numb to say anything that meant something. "Go back inside." he muttered.
Peter didn't want to go inside. He didn't want to move. He wasn't even sure he could have if he wanted to. Everything was so numb. The world felt like it was at a standstill. His mind was racing, his vision was kind of swimming. That might have been from those gashes across his chest, but the thought didn't really register. That could be fixed. This... this couldn't be fixed.
How many times was he going to have to live through watching people he cared about die? Family. Friends. Was he supposed to be alone? Had he done something that the universe or the Gods or whatever other sentient thing out there really felt he needed to be punished this much for? He knew, somewhere deep down, that it was all random chance. It had nothing to do with him, or anything he'd done. He wasn't being punished. It wasn't his fault. But that was logical. Far too logical of a thought process to reach his brain at that moment. And right now, he just felt guilt.