His mom had been... fine. More or less. She'd offered to help them with rent until they got on their feet a little more, but they had to find their own place to stay. Which is honestly more than he was expecting. So he'd pack what few belongings he had and he and Jason had moved out on their own.

The apartment is sparse. Sofa, his bookshelf from his bedroom at home. A card table and some folding chairs his mom had found in the garage. A bed. Whatever Jason brought with him.

"Well," Peter says, setting down the last of his boxes (a mishmash of spare pots and pans from his mom). "It's not much. But it's home."