[A/N:Be aware. Warning: Mentions of Suicide]

Peter was out so late patrolling that he didn't talk to Pepper or Tony until the morning of the next day, and by then, his black eye and broken nose had healed almost completely. The only evidence was a light, dirt-colored bruise on his left cheekbone.

"Good morning, sleepyhead," Pepper greeted him. She sat at the kitchen table in the small dining area that was technically a part of the kitchen. Despite the semi-open layout, Peter would consider it a room of its own. (They had a much larger guest dining room that Peter has yet to see used. The doors to it were on the wall opposite of the kitchen and next to the mini dining room).

Peter groaned a small "G'morning" as he flopped down on the cushioned chair next to Pepper.

"Thought you weren't going to wake up 'till this afternoon. You got in pretty late last night," Tony said from the kitchen. He walked over with a plate of bacon, eggs, hashbrown, and delicious looking chocolate chip pancakes. He set it down in front of Peter.

Peter would have slept until noon if it weren't for the enticing smell of breakfast waking him up. "I planned to get back earlier," he yawned as he grabbed his silverware. "But there was a guy trying to be the next big villain; he had one of those flying Chitauri bikes. No idea where he got it but he knew how to drive it. He didn't damage anything but it took forever to finally catch him." Peter spoke between mouthfuls of hash browns mixed with eggs. He liked to save his pancakes for last.

Thankfully there was no mention of the bruise on his face. He was sure they assumed it was from the flying bike guy, who admittedly rammed into him with the bike during a failed attempt to catch him. "So I signed up for the Art Club," Peter said after there was a lull in the conversation.

"Oh, that's fantastic!" Pepper said happily.

"Yeah, they do photography and that looked pretty interesting... so I joined," he shrugged awkwardly.

"After you get a feel for it, if you're really interested, we can look into some cameras," Tony said as he took a seat at the end of the table. His gaze fell to his tablet as he tapped away on whatever project he was working on.

Peter's mind vaguely went back to the comment Priscilla made, but before he could go anywhere with that thought, his phone chimed with the tone that signaled MJ texting him. He took another bite of eggs and hash brown before pulling his phone out.

MJ: Hey webhead, was that Loki-wannabe crashing into you last night finally enough to break your phone?

Peter just grinned as he responded.

Peter: Nope! Completely intact. I think it actually absorbed some of the fall damage lol. How'd you even know?

MJ: The internet has eyes and ears everywhere, my guy. You can't hide from it. But I guess Stark really did mean Hero Proof™. I owe Ned 30 bucks now.

Peter: Make it all ones. You can make a joke about strippers or something.

MJ: I like the way you think.

...

MJ: He might actually spend it on flowers or something.

MJ: He's been crushing on a new girl lately.

Peter frowned. He didn't remember Ned mentioning a girl... but to be fair, he's been so busy as Spider-Man that he hadn't really hung out with them much recently.

Peter: Ned's got a crush??

MJ: Yeah, but I doubt it will go anywhere. I can already tell it might be one of those types that will fade in a week or two.

MJ: Just gotta keep him from making hasty decisions before then.

Peter: Lol why so watchful?

MJ: I saw how your first crush went. Even without the part where you left school... I could tell you weren't actually into her.

Peter: Yeah... that was kind of a disaster.

He hesitated before sending his next text.

Peter: Annnnd... welllll... she wasn't actually my first crush.

MJ: Oh?? What crush have you been hiding from me??

Peter blinked wide-eyed at the message. Shit, what had he done? He shouldn't have said that.

MJ: Come on, you can tell me ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

MJ: You brought it up, so you /have/ to now

Right here goes nothing...

Peter: Um, well. You, actually.

In a small panic, he quickly added:

Peter: But then I found out you weren't into guys after the second week we met.

Peter: So obviously nothing was going to work between us.

MJ: Where'd you hear that?

Peter: You were talking to Flash. I overheard... Sorry?

MJ: ...That was a lie to get that oaf to stop asking me out.

Peter: Wait... what?

MJ: I've also got a crush on you

"Oh my god!" Peter quickly stood up in shock. His chair flipped over behind him, and the plates and silverware on the table clattered as he bumped into it. Tony and Pepper looked at him, surprised.

"Everything alright?" Tony asked.

"MJ has a crush on me!" Peter said in utter shock.

"Oh boy, um-" Tony said at a loss for words as he desperately looked towards Pepper.

"Ok, we can do this," Pepper said with a calming breath. "First things first. Was that a good 'oh my god' or a bad 'oh my god'?"

Peter froze; he wasn't entirely sure. "Um- uh... Good?" he said quickly. He suddenly took in a deep breath in preparation for the rapidfire spew of words needed to explain teenage drama in a timely manner, and said, "I used to have a crush on her, but then I thought she was gay. And then I was like 'yeah that will never happen' so I just kinda pushed it aside, you know? And then it's now and I'm looking at her text and- ugh! I think I still have a crush on her!" he spoke so quickly that he's pretty sure only Pepper could follow him.

Peter's leg shook from all the excited and nervous energy that suddenly built up. The chair was still across the floor, but he wasn't willing to let go of the phone that was gripped in both hands as he looked at the screen. He dropped to his knees and rested his arms and chin on the table as he looked as he read her words again and again.

"Oh my god, what do I do?!" he said in a panic as he dropped his head against the table with a groan. "D-do I ask her out? No- wait that's stupid, I can't do that!"

"If you both like each other, go for it!" Pepper said.

"It's not that simple!" Peter squeaked.

"Why not?" Pepper challenged.

"Well- I mean- We- Ugh. Really? I can just ask her out?"

"I don't see why not. Go on!" Pepper said, shooing him away into the other room. "Call her! I bet she's freaking out just as much as you," Pepper giggled.

"Right, okay, call her! I can do this, I totally got this," Peter muttered to himself.

"Go get em', tiger," Tony said with an amused laugh as Peter quickly walked back towards his room.

The moment he got into his room, he closed his door and immediately called MJ before he could psyche himself out.

"Hello?" MJ answered slowly.

Peter froze, he stared forward at nothing as he tried to find the words.

"Peter?" she said.

He blinked, how was he going to do this? He didn't even know what to say? What if it ended in disaster, and he lost MJ as a friend? What if he didn't actually like her like with Liz-? No, that was stupid, he's always liked her. That's just how he's always felt, right? Everything's fine, he's fine, it's simple he's just gotta ask her out! Simple...

If it was so simple, why couldn't he make himself speak ?

"Helllllo?" MJ said awkwardly.

Peter.exe had admittedly stopped working, and he had to say something. So in that split second, he detached himself from the situation and jumped into the mindset of working a job. This wasn't MJ, this was someone he had to get close to for... something. That didn't matter. What mattered was that he needed to ask her on a date.

"Hey!" Nor grinned, "So, now that we've found ourselves in this particular dance that has left up both with some groundbreaking information, I was wondering if you'd like to go on a date with me?"

"Oh wow! Um-" he's never heard her sound so flustered before and he found it adorable. "Yeah. Yes, sounds awesome!" she said with a small laugh.

"Fantastic," he replied. "So I can't do anything this weekend, but how about Monday? I know you've got decathlon, but I can meet you there at 5 when you get out."

"O-okay, sounds awesome," she laughed again.

"I'll see you Monday, Michelle," he replied smoothly.

"See ya Monday," she replied faintly.

Peter hung up and just stared at the phone... Did he actually do that? Did he really just ask MJ out?! Yes, undeniably yes! He laughed at himself as he felt giddy at the thought of Monday being so close.

***

Rory "Red" Hendric fidgeted nervously as he stood at the edge of the rooftop looking out at the illuminated city. He wore his usual red jacket despite the warm weather. In a life of owning only what you could carry, the jacket had become something of a safety blanket he's had since he was small enough to use the thing as a sleeping bag. By some stroke of luck, when he stopped growing, the thing fit him perfectly.

Yeah, some parts were clearly ripped and resown countless times, and there were off-colored patches on the elbows where the original fabric had worn out and Rory had to use whatever fabric he could find to fix it, and the hood's string had been yanked out long ago during a scuffle with another boy at one of the foster homes he stayed in, but it was the one thing that stuck with him since he got tossed into the useless system after his mother dumped him at the doorstep of a fire station with a note saying she didn't want him.

With his arms resting over the raised ledge of the rooftop, he looked down at the faint glowing front of his flip phone as it told him the time.

11 o'clock - Spider-Man should be here soon.

As amazing as he was feeling to be meeting one of New York's heroes, he wasn't exactly excited for the reason. But a debt was a debt. And Red didn't just owe Nor for saving his life; he also owed him for Anderson and Stark for letting him go. He was released with a slap on the wrist since Nor took priority over everything since it was the biggest story in New York at the time.

Funny how a courier with that kind of reputation ended up being a nerdy-looking kid from Queens.

But he's heard stories to contradict that persona; rumor has it in the underground that when Nor fell off the grid, there was a guy in Russia fighting mutants with the same name. Some said he was powerless, others said he had super agility, but Red knew you could only trust rumors so far. What he did know, for an absolute fact, was that there was more to that kid than New York would ever know. Especially if he was associated with someone like the Widower. That's a night Red would never forget.

There was something dark about this Peter . Deep in his eyes, you could see it if you looked close enough. Growing up smart and fast, Red knew how to look for it. It was a shame that he didn't look hard enough until their second meeting. He was almost glad that his debt was being paid with something as simple as getting information. Who knew what Nor had planned down the road now that no one had a leash on him.

There was an audible crunch of gravel behind him as he whirled around to come face to face with Spider-Man.

"Hey-ya!" the hero said cheerfully with a small wave. "Sorry I'm late, but there was a mugging a few streets back. Had to make sure the victim was okay getting home."

"'S fine. Got nothing better to do tonight," Red shrugged. "Your plan anyways."

"Nor's plan," Spider-Man corrected. "I'm gonna be honest, I really don't like all of this at all, especially since it's putting you in danger..." he said sympathetically.

"Yeah, tell me about it," Red scoffed.

"Good thing that's why I agreed to come along. I promise I won't let anything bad happen to you," Spider-Man said sincerely.

The promise eased some of the worry that Red was feeling, but this whole thing was still unnerving. "Let's just get this over with," he sighed.

"I hope you rested well; we have a lot of places to go tonight," Spider-Man said, showing him a list of names and their locations that he pulled out from some hidden compartment. Red didn't see where he retrieved it from.

There were a dozen or so names on here... it was going to be a long night.

***

As Peter watched Red like some sort of arachnid guardian angel, they found that locations 1-4 were a bust. One of the names on the list was dead, and the other three locations were tied up in a territory dispute. It would be impossible to get any information from the men in the middle of a gang war.

Location 5 was where the courier hired just after Peter left was currently living. He said that John had bolted the morning after the Widower infiltrated his computer.

That put him last seen on January 20th.

Location 6 was in the process of being raided by the police, and Peter was lucky enough to grab the target just as she was jumping over the fence to escape. After some questioning, he found out that the Deadeyes had been hunting him since he disappeared.

Location 7 was a drag club, and it had the most promising information. Red went in through the back while Peter followed him through the vents.

One of the performers, Sispend Belif, who was currently on a break, was an old army buddy of John's. Like before, Red was the first to talk to her, but her loyalty to John was a lot stronger than Nor had expected. It was only when she threatened to throw Red out that Spider-Man had decided to reveal himself.

It took some convincing, but Nor was able to talk the queen into opening up a little.

"It's been over nine months since I've last heard from him," she said with a light British accent. "All I know is that I got a text from him saying he's going outta town for a while, but that was back in February." She walked over to one of the bright mirrors of the dressing room to sit down. "What do y'all want with him anyways?" Sispend asked casually as she turned to freshen up her makeup in the mirror. She paused, "He's a good man, you know... He never wanted to be roped into that gang stuff. He's just had bad luck..."

Peter considered what to tell her for a moment. He then looked back at Red, who was standing awkwardly in the corner. "I'll meet up with you outside," he told him. Red just nodded hesitantly before leaving the changing room and heading towards the back door.

"I know you're not telling us everything," Peter said as he cautiously approached the chair that Sispend sat in. "Can you keep a secret?" he asked quietly.

Sensing the seriousness of the question, Sispend looked up directly in the eyes of Spider-Man. "I wasn't MI6's best agent for nothing," she said in a tone closer to her natural octave. "But you know that, don't you?" she said with a small smile. "Someone like you would do your research, right, Peter?"

Honestly, Peter wasn't even surprised. He just chuckled, "Technically, you weren't even part of MI6; you were some kind of consultant if I read right. But there was a lot of redacted information, Willam Quarters."

"Then I should clarify, I was better than the best," she said as she began to apply one of the makeup brushes to her face, "And I prefer Sebastian. At least when I'm not in dress..." She then let out a small sigh before putting down the brush to grab a pen from the table as she wrote on a scrap of paper. "I don't know where he went, but I do know he'd be stoppin' at one of those places before he skipped town." She handed Spider-Man the paper. Peter had Karen take a quick scan of it before tucking the list into his pocket.

"Thank you. I'll make sure to contact you in case I find anything," Peter was grateful to finally get some useful information. "I'm about to shine a light on a lot of dangerous people... I just want to make sure he's not caught up in it," Peter said quietly.

Sispend held her jaw tight as she looked in the mirror at herself. Peter could swear that he saw her eyes sparkle a little brighter, "Oh, honey, it's a little too late for that..." she said, quietly blinking away the shine.

Peter was left feeling confused at her words. They hung with him as he climbed up into the air vents to meet up back with Red outside.

They had five more locations to visit, and the night was getting late.

***

Red was unsurprisingly exhausted by the time the night was over. One of the remaining locations was a little more eventful than the others since Red had accidentally walked in on a sting operation. The police quickly assumed that he was associated with the drug dealers that they were trying to apprehend. So, in order to make sure that the cops wouldn't catch Red, Peter tripped up the real culprits so that the cops would be too busy with their arrests instead of focusing on the newcomer. Peter recognized a few of the thugs, and it was satisfying to see them shoved into the backs of the police cars while in handcuffs.

He did the job well, and with the information they gathered, Peter considered Red's debt paid in full. A small part of him wanted to take a step further and reward him for his cooperation. If he left Red feeling well compensated for all the unexpected trouble then he might be more inclined to work with him again in the future - the life debt no longer withstanding. If Red wasn't interested (which was more likely the case), he still deserved a few days rest for his troubles.

After a quick text to Tony and a prompt reply, Peter got the permission he needed.

Spider-Man and Red parted. Peter easily changed into a hoodie with his suit shifting colors to appear as normal clothing underneath... at least, if no one looked too closely. The tech needed some work, and the spider emblem was still too noticeable, but it was easy enough to cover.

"How'd it go?" Nor asked as Red passed one of the shrouded alleyways.

"Jesus- What?!" Red said, jumping back in a small moment of terror as he clutched his chest. "Where the hell did you come from?" he asked with heavy breaths.

Ignoring the question, he continued, "A few blocks north, there's a hotel... come on, I'll get you a room," Nor said casually as he motioned for Red to follow.

Red just stood there, dumbstruck. "Sorry?"

"For you to sleep- I know you're exhausted. Tony said I can get you a room for a couple of days... as thanks for helping me out," Peter shrugged lightly as he continued down the street.

"Stark?" Red said, stumbling after the other teen. "He knows about this?"

"Of course, it would be too difficult to sneak out so I might as well keep him in the loop. Things are... complicated right now... but he's more understanding than I deserve," Nor looked down at his feet as he kicked a forgotten bottle cap into the street.

"By letting a kid wander New York alone at night?" Red asked, confused.

Nor just laughed, he looked back at Red, his eyes just peeking out from behind his hood, "Please... I'm not exactly a normal kid." He looked forward again as he walked along the curb with perfect balance. "Plus, if there's trouble, I can hit a panic button and three Iron Man suits will come hurtling to earth via a satellite. Almost tempted to press it just for the spectacle."

"You're so bizarre," Red finally said. Then in a slightly harsher tone, he continued, "It's like you enjoy it out here in the slums, in the underground, like this whole thing's just a game to you." He scoffed.

Nor paused in his steps as he looked up at the broken street lamp above him. "There are places a lot darker than the New York underground." He looked back at Red to see him stopped a handful of feet behind him, the other teens face scrunched up. A clear signal that he didn't understand. He didn't blame him; not many would. "Let's go," Peter continued. "I've gotta get home soon."

*

Peter crashed the moment his head hit his pillow. He didn't bother changing his clothes; hell, he didn't even take the suit's boots off. He simply curled up in his hoodie and buried himself under the pillows and blankets, his mind too exhausted to dream.

***

From Karen's report, it was five am by the time he got home last night, and it was one in the afternoon by the time he woke up.

"Late night again?" Tony asked from the couch as Peter walked into the living room.

With his hair still damp from the shower, he plopped himself onto the loveseat angled to the left of the couch. His tablet was set on the coffee table, and the TV was running episodes of Star Trek: The Next Generation . Peter hasn't really gotten into the show, but he did enjoy it whenever Tony put on some reruns.

"Definitely the last late night for a while," Peter groaned as he still struggled to blink his eyes awake. Despite the grogginess being an annoyance to most, there was something peaceful and relaxing about it. Rarely did he allow himself to acknowledge the feeling; something like that was a luxury when you lived under constant threat.

After a long yawn and a few seconds to recover from it, Peter said, "So, I was thinking about getting some photos today. Nothing fancy, just with my phone, but MJ and I can't go on our date till she's done with decathlon practice. Might as well use that time to start learning the photoshop process."

Tony just nodded a grin spread across his face as he looked over at Peter with a raised eyebrow, "You think of a place to go on your date?"

Peter ignored his gaze as he tried to play it cool and watch the TV; he was horrible at hiding his flustered grin. "Yeah, I got a few ideas. She really likes the Italian Restaurant over on 74th. I was thinking about grabbing something from there and watching bad horror movies on the roof or something. She loves criticizing them."

"Oh? Looks like you have things all planned out there. You should probably ask how late she can be out. Gotta parent a little here, so curfew is going to be 9 o'clock; it's a school night, and it's for things not spider-related. Plus, she's probably got her own curfew."

Peter just nodded, "Sounds reasonable enough."

They both watched the TV for a while longer, each checking their phones and the different apps and sites they frequent. After the current episode ended, Peter took that as a good time to leave. After a quick goodbye to Tony, he grabbed his jacket and headed out the door... well, the elevator - they didn't technically have a door unless the emergency exit counted. Fancy penthouses were strange like that.

Walking through the streets of New York without any attempt at hiding was a little different than when he ventured out before he met Tony. With a very obvious scar on his face, people could pick him out of the crowd much easier than he liked. He wasn't a fan of the attention at all . Especially when his spider-sense gave him constant warning of someone watching him, though he was glad to know none of them had ill intentions. But he had a feeling they would be taking photos that would find their way under the tag #IronSon.

Eventually, he pulled up his hood and kept his head low. When he felt fewer people recognize him, his spidey sense settled down into something more manageable. Though after the distraction was taken care of, he'd come to realize he had no idea what he was supposed to be taking pictures of.

He sighed. What was this cover even for if he had no idea what he was doing?

Eventually, he found himself a tree to sit under in a nearby park and pulled out his phone to watch the videos Priscilla suggested. After an hour or so had passed, he leaned back with a small, frustrated frown. Yeah, he knew the basics of taking a photo, but how exactly did that help him know what to take a photo of?

Peter let his eyes drift around the park as he tried to think. That was when he noticed it.

Sitting there in the peacefulness of the park, no distractions, no obligations, just... existing, Peter sensed it. A gentle nudge in the back of his mind, it was no doubt his spider-sense, but there was no warning, no negative feeling. Just a sense that there was something that needed his attention, something he might be interested in.

The sense was so faint, it was difficult to tell what exactly it was telling him since he wasn't used to that kind of sense. So as he looked around the park, he played a little game of hot or cold with himself.

Cold. Cold. Cold. Warmer. Colder.

Too far...

Warm. Warmer. Warmer. Warm- stop. There it was.

Looking up into the trees and through the leaves, there was a faint window allowing him to see a tall, looming building with the sun just behind it. The rays fell around it like it was outstretching its arms, and Peter most definitely found the sight interesting.

He pulled up his phone and took the shot.

He blinked down at the image. From a novice perspective, it really wasn't that bad... huh, guess he just has to find things that... well, 'speak' to him. Or whatever you'd call that.

Peter stood up and dusted himself off; maybe this photography wouldn't be that bad.

He took a stroll around the area, trying to find more things that 'spoke' to him. But there was nothing like before. He did see a pigeon sticking its head out of a trashcan and took a picture of that to send to Ned since it was funny, but it didn't speak to him.

Well, he kinda knew what he was doing now, so he should probably get to the real reason he came out here. Photography was a cover, after all.

Peter pulled out the list of addresses he got from Sebastian during the hunt for information last night. Everything pointed to John heading out of town a little over nine months ago, eight if the last one to hear from him was Sispend.

It was a pretty cold trail, but if those safehouses were well hidden, then there should be a clue somewhere to follow. Peter set off towards the closest location in Queens.

***

There were three houses in Queens, four in Brooklyn, and one in Manhattan.

After spending the afternoon running to each address in Brooklyn and Queens, he was finally crossing the river to check the one in Manhattan.

The others had been rundown apartments in varying states of distress; one was just a shack on a roof, but each was filled with dust and looked like they had been untouched for years. There were various 'go bags' hidden within them, but they were all still intact.

The last one was his only hope for a lead.

At least with all this walking and taking things at a pace slower than swinging through the city, Peter was getting better at noticing his new sense. Each time led him to different shots, but each was something that interested him. He gathered three more pictures. One was of an old man with a brown bomber jacket and tinted aviators sitting casually at a bus stop. Another was of a broken tree limb just barely hanging on as he was about to reach a stream of telephone wires just below it. And finally, the last one: a solitary blue balloon drifting over a wooden water tower.

As Peter sat on the subway heading into Manhattan, he looked at the photo of the blue balloon. There were so many questions. Where did it come from? How was it lost? Was it a kid who lost it? Do they feel sorry for it being lost, or did they release it out of curiosity? The fascination of never knowing the true story behind a single blue balloon floating against graying clouds was utterly fascinating to Peter.

He briefly considered submitting the photo as a contestant for the composition that the art teacher mentioned. Would other people have the same questions as him?

His thoughts were pushed aside as the train screeched to a halt. There was not much use thinking about that stuff anyway; he had no plan to go to the competition. After he found John, he still had the mystery of the bank robber to solve.

The address led him down towards Hell's Kitchen. Despite the Battle of New York happening five years ago, some of the buildings haven't fully recovered. The damage was extensive, but that wasn't to say that they hadn't come a long way since then.

As Peter walked through the street, a light drizzle showered the area. The gray clouds that were featured in the balloon photo had darkened, and Peter suspected it would be pouring soon. No matter; he was almost at the office building where the safe house was, but as he approached it, the thing had a "condemned building" sign over the front and boarded-up windows.

He turned the corner just before he reached the entrance of the building. As per the instructions, he found the set of stairs in the alleyway leading down into the building's basement. The shadows grew darker as he descended, and when he reached the door, he found it already unlocked.

Promising. John had no need to lock it up if he left.

He pushed it open to reveal a long hallway with doors lining the walls leading to different storage rooms. Peter wrinkled his nose at the smell of old death. It wasn't uncommon for animals, usually rats, to find their ways into the walls of old buildings and parishes. Peter had visited many places like this, and he had no doubt he would visit many more after.

He walked down the hall, noting the number of each door as he looked for fourteen. Using his phone to light the path, he eventually found a light switch as he passed the stairs leading up from the ground floor, and he flicked it on. By a miraculous stroke of luck, the power was still running. Only half the lights illuminated, and they gave the hallways a harsh yellow hue.

Towards the end of it, the hall split into a T intersection. 10 was the last door he passed. 11 and 12 were on the left with 13 and 14 on the right, with 14 at the end of the short hallway.

Peter noticed the old smell of death was a little stronger over here; it must be closer to where some rat had died. Or perhaps a string of traps in one of the storage rooms that were never cleaned up.

He stopped just at the intersection. The spidey sense returned. It wasn't a warning like he expected; instead, it urged him to look down the hall. Door 14 loomed over him; it was enshrouded with a flickering, dying light that made it scarcely visible. Peter pulled out his phone and once again as he aimed to take the photo.

He angled it to seem as if the viewer was peering around the corner and was staring at the almost-ominous door at the end of the dingy hall. Looking at the captured picture through the lens of his phone filled him with a strange sense of dread.

Not from his spidey sense; there was no danger here - he was sure of that.

But from a deep, primal reaction that belonged to any human.

He turned on his phone light as he approached the door; the old smell grew sharp in his nose.

That deep sense of dread grew in the pit of his stomach as he reached out for the handle.

With a light twist-

He pushed the door open.

The smell hit him like a wall of putrid needles that were clawing at his nose and eyes. He reeled back from the stench and quickly covered his face with the fabric of his hood. There were a dozen startled screeches as rats scattered from sight. He watched as a handful ran under him towards the exit.

He knew what was waiting for him when he looked; the pulsating dread inside him had shifted up into his chest, and he almost felt like it was choking him. His makeshift mask did little to guard against the assaulting scent, and his panicking breath was no help.

Unlike the unknown from the blue balloon, the contents of Door 14 stood before him.

He finally looked up.

And there-

Staring back at him-

Were the empty eye sockets of the man he was trying to save.

The body had been there a while and any flesh that hadn't already been eaten by the rats was dried and blackened as it hung off the bone.

But Peter still hadn't removed his gaze from the eyes.

He wasn't even sure how long he stared at the empty judging sockets that screamed You Failed over and over in his mind. The glint of something shiny in the corpse's gnawed-but-intact hand was what finally drew his attention away.

It was a pistol, the same one he'd seen John pull out from time to time when he lived with the man. His former means of protection lying on the ground next to him with an empty bullet casing laying just a few feet away.

Looking back towards the eyes, he could finally see the bigger picture.

The corpse sat upright between two boxes. On the wall behind it was an angled spray of blood.

Head blown out.

Gun in hand.

A finger resting on the trigger.

And a shell casing on the ground.

Suicide.

And eight months too late.