After the funeral, after every guest has come and gone, Peter will remain at the grave. His grave. He'll wonder what Jason's last few moments were like... from Jason's point of view, of course. Peter will know all too well what they were like from the outside.
Darkness, he'll suppose. With all of the drugs that were in Jason's system it'd be a miracle if he had a lucid thought. Peter will want to hope it was regret. It'll never occur to him how selfish that thought is.
Years will pass and Peter's memory of Jason will fade. He won't remember lying with Jason in his bed on a Sunday morning when they were both supposed to be in church or Jason's lips pressed against his. He won't remember Jason's hands or the way that Jason's eyes crinkled when he smiled a smile that only he could and he certainly won't be able to remember laughter or warmth or friends. He'll be able to call Nadia if he wants talk about Jason… hell, he'll be able to call anyone from St. Cecilia's if he wants to reminisce. But he won't. It'll hurt too much. And Lord, Peter will have already experienced enough hurt to last three lifetimes. He won't be able to tell what caused the most pain: abruptly forgetting how it felt to be loved by Jason or slowly forgetting how it felt to love him.
One day, after many years have passed, Peter will write Jason a letter. Decades of pent up emotion and torn up drafts and more drafts and drafts and drafts will finally culminate into one sentence.
"You are helpful, you are loved, you are not alone, and you are forgiven."
He'll place the letter on Jason's grave and that will be the last time he'll ever go back to that goddamn graveyard.
A boy, around Jason's age when he died, will find the letter and open it. And it'll save him. It'll save him like it could've – would've saved Jason had he been able to read it.
After the funeral, after every guest had come and gone, Peter remained at the grave. His grave. He wondered what Jason's last few moments were like... from Jason's point of view, of course. Peter knew all too well what they were like from the outside.
Darkness, he supposed. With all the drugs that were in Jason's system it'd be a miracle if he had a lucid thought.
But then again, weren't they a miracle in themselves?