He smiles soft and sad, missing heart breaking in his chest as those tears begin. He doesn't tell Peter to stop them. He doesn't say a thing for a while, simply running his thumb over the boy's cheek.

"No, he wouldn't," He does agree by the end. His smile slips a little. "We'll figure this out, okay? I've spent this long trying to work my own...unlife. I'm sure we can find something for him too."

He doesn't know that. He's been trying to find a solution to his own troubles a long time and he's not even dangerous. In fact, he knows, a lot of the time there is no turning back. Death held on tight. It didn't like when people walked scott-free. But at the very least, they can try.

He moves, shuffling back to Peter's side and putting his arm around the boy again. He stares up at the dumpster lid, still flickering sporadically, shuddering and trembling every moment or so, but he's otherwise quiet and still.

Until he says, "We probably shouldn't wait here past sunrise. I don't want you stuck in here with my corpse." And he'd really like to keep his arm, if he can. Not to mention he's sure Peter's head is doing him no kindness right now as far pain goes.