Peter didn't, for a single second, feel an ounce of obligation to do so.

But maybe it was because of that that he kept his hand where it was, heavy on Chris's neck, veins slowly running black up his arm. It's been some time since he's done this-- for a while, he hadn't been sure it was still possible either, what with the whole coming back from the dead deal. But pragmatic as he was, he'd gone out and made a full inventory of what had changed and what hadn't.

This hadn't.

"I can be generous," he said slowly. There was a sweetness to Chris's scent, barely there, but noticeable at this proximity. But given his current state... well, better not try their luck.

Gradually, Peter moved until he was merely sitting beside Chris again, albeit closer than appropriate. Sometimes the effects of pain being drawn was as good as a shot of morphine. He wouldn't be surprised if Chris began to nod off.