Peter ran outside, looking around wildly for Mike. He knew that things probably were fine, but hated to imagine what would've happened in case something did happen.

He barely knew Mike so it was hard to know where he would've gone. He let out a sigh, he didn't know how long he had been searching, but he was running in circles. The snow was now up to Peter's ankles and he was regretting not wearing anything warmer. Peter let out a sigh, becoming tired, but pushing on.

It was truly by chance that he was able to find Mike, sitting on a park bench. He was wrapping the sweater around him tightly as he shivered. Peter frowned as he slowly approached him.

Mike's eyes widened once he saw who was coming toward him as he turned away.

"Are you cold?" Peter asked and Mike shook his head quickly.

"N-no," he stuttered, teeth chattering.

"You ran outside in pajamas," Peter explained. "I bet you're freezing."

Mike looked at him, frowning.

"H-how am I s-supposed to know what are pajamas and street clothes? Th-they look the same."

Peter smiled slightly.

"Are you okay, though?"

Mike sighed, rolling his eyes, not even needing to say anything for Peter to understand what he meant.

"You know, it's day one," he said softly. "You can't give up that easily."

Mike looked up and glared at him.

"Wh-why can't I?" He asked harshly.

Peter sighed, taking a small step back.

"Because…" he said, approaching him. "Whether you like it or not, you and I are in this together. And I'm not gonna let you quit this easily."

Mike didn't answer as he let out a sigh, staring off into the distance, still shivering slightly.

"Michael," Peter said, in a much softer tone now. "We have to play along. At least for a little bit or until this whole thing sorts itself out."

That was when Mike turned to him, eyebrows raised.

"'U-u-until this whole thing s-sorts itself out?'" He repeated, not believing it.

"The universe always sorts out its mistakes…" Peter said. "The universe put us here, it can take us out."

Mike groaned, rolling his eyes and turning away.

"I-I don't need this right now," he said under his breath, scoffing. "I mean, wh-what's the point of playing a-along if we can just wait 'til it gets better?"

"Because we don't know when–"

"If," Mike corrected harshly. "I-if things get better. B-because you d-don't know if they will, s-so you just want us to s-sit back and accept our fate i-in case things don't get normal or go back to normal."

Peter frowned and looked down, choosing not to respond to it. When he didn't answer, Mike let out a groan, tearing at his hair in frustration.

"I-I-I hate this so much."

"I know," Peter said quietly, wishing he could do anything to make Mike happy, or at least help him think beyond himself for once. Mike threw his hands down and kicked the snow at his feet. Peter just watched, letting him be as he let out all the anger that had been building up inside of him. After a minute or so, Mike seemed much calmer, and he sat back down on the bench, pretending like the outburst had never happened.

"Why are we doing this?" He asked under his breath.

"To avoid questions," Peter said with a shrug, sitting beside him. "I know how much you hate questions and stuff."

"I don't hate questions," Mike frowned, looking at him. He seemed more confused than upset by the statement. Peter shrugged, his eyes darting back to the ground again.

"Well, you don't like answering a lot of them," he said quietly. Mike rarely answered any questions that came his way, especially about personal stuff. The only thing Peter really knew about him was he grew up in Texas and lived in San Francisco before meeting Micky and moving in with the rest of them. But that was it. Other than those details, Mike was practically a mystery to Peter. Mike frowned and nodded slowly, knowing what he meant.

"If we play along," Peter started. "Maybe that might save you from answering those types of questions."

Mike sighed.

"I-I just don't know how long we can do this…" he muttered and Peter let out a slight laugh.

"Michael, it's the first day!" He called out. "It's only been a few hours since we woke up. You can't get upset at yourself for not doing well on the first day."

Mike sighed, reluctantly agreeing with the statement. Peter smiled.

"You can't worry about how tomorrow will work if you can't see today."

Mike looked at him, but didn't speak. Peter smiled, almost putting his hands on Mike's arms, but choosing against it.

"It'll be okay, Mike," Peter said, a smile growing on his face. "I'm getting cold, do you wanna go back in with me?"

Mike frowned, thinking about the offer for a moment before nodding hesitantly, standing up. Peter smiled and watched as Mike pulled his sweater around him.

"I hate the cold," he muttered and Peter smiled.

"You must've hated San Francisco, then," he joked, surprised when Mike nodded.

"I-I liked San Francisco," he said with an honest shrug. "It was pretty nice, a-actually. I just didn't like the weather...always too cold."

The last bit of it was said quietly, like he was admitting a deep secret of his. Peter didn't understand why Mike seemed so ashamed by his not liking the cold, but smiled slightly and nodded. It was the closest thing Peter would probably ever get to Mike telling about his life.

He almost felt himself ask Mike why he ran into the snow if he hated the cold that much, but refrained himself.

"Don't worry about tomorrow," he said instead as the pad came into sight. "It's still just the first day."

"Th-the first day is always the hardest," Mike argued and Peter smiled, turning to him before opening the door.

"That means it can only get better from here," he said optimistically as he led Mike back into the house.