Phil thrashes for a moment when he feels something on his wings stop stop stop touching him--but it's--not, it's not, it's... just Peter. It's just Peter and his wing. Peter doesn't even have a hand on him. No one has a hand on him.

It all comes back up; from the moment he came back he'd been on that knife's edge of breaking down like he almost had when he realized he wasn't back in that hospital, and with Ava and Peter next to him, both of them safe, and trying to make sure he's safe too, he just... folds. He doubles over sobbing, hands over his face, shame in his reaction, in knowing how he got there.

"I'm sorry," he chokes out. "I'm sorry. I wa... I wasn't careful enough. They got me. So early. it was the--the third day. Ava..."

He'd been looking after her until the end of the second week, when he disappeared. That whole time. That whole time he'd been brainwashed.