( Falco's reaching to touch him and Peter's letting out a sound that sounds like an animal, some mix of whimper and groan, shuddering. He isn't pulling back, but he collapses forwards a little, head tipped downwards, like it's too heavy to hold up. )

No... No... I am, and I've always been. Weak.

( He doesn't know how much of the memory Falco saw, where it stopped, where it ended. Maybe some of what he's saying doesn't make much sense without the exact context, but it's spilling up and out of him. )

I should've stood up to my mom. Charlie didn't even want to go to that party, but my mom made her, and I didn't even— I didn't even try to stop her. I just let it happen.

She was just... little. She was so little. She was— your age.

( His voice breaks again at that as a fresh wave of tears breaks simultaneously, it's too much. He can't look up at the younger boy, can't face him. He feels like he's broken some trust, showed him what he really is. )

I'm not a good person, Falco. And I can't— protect you. I'm so weak.