Peter's eyes open in glimpses, brief flashes of ceiling tiles and EMTs calling his name. Nothing ever comes into focus or turns into more than just a painful blur of colors and lights. More than anything, it hurts. Every ragged, hitching breath his lungs pull in feels like a million rusty knives clawing their way out of his chest. He coughs uncontrollably. It pulls up sludge from the depths of his body. He hears words like "fluids" and "wake up, kid" and "possible respiratory infection" and "fever at one-oh-six and climbing." And sirens. There are sirens. Everything is toomuchtoomuchtoomuch for him and it feels like his head is splitting open from the noise, the lights, the everything.

It all just blurs together in a rush of pain and confusion. His body jolts when the stretcher is wheeled out of the ambulance into the ER. It's strange, being here as Peter Parker when he's avoided the place for so long as Spider-Man. That thought is pitched violently out of his mind with another round of racking, excruciating coughs. His mind starts to defog just enough to be aware of his surroundings as a doctor calls his name.

"Peter?" she calls sweetly. "Peter, honey, can you keep your eyes open?" He tries. He does, but they fight back harder than ever before. "Peter, your aunt is on her way. Can you hear me?"

Somehow he manages to nod, but doing it makes his brain ring. He groans and manages to lift a hand to his temple.

"Can you tell me anything about what's wrong, Peter?" the doctor asks.

"Hurts," is all he can say.

"Where, Peter?"

He's ripped again into a fit of coughing.

"Your lungs, Peter?" she asks

He nods. "Tight," he huffs, his hand reaching to his chest.

"Let's get him in for a chest x-ray, now," the doctor orders. "We need to figure out how he got so bad so fast. Get a temperature every five minutes. Once he's out of radiology, get him in an ice bath. Get that fever down any way you can before his brain melts."

Peter groans, and his eyes slip closed again.


May leaves in the middle of her shift as a secretary for the law firm two blocks from her apartment. At first when she says she has to go, Sally Bennet looks like she's going to joke about her taking off, but she must change her mind when she sees the look in May's eyes.

"Go," she whispers. "Go, I'll take care of it."

So May runs. She gets in her old blue Honda and punches it down the street. And when she gets there, to the hospital, the ICU, to Peter, her kid, her Peter. When she gets there, he's soaking in a tub of ice, but he's still fucking steaming in a way she's never seen a person do before.

"What's his temperature?" she asks a nurse who isn't busy trying to hold Peter into the tub while he fights to escape it. Hearing him scream and plead and beg feels like her heart is being ripped out and torn to pieces. He hasn't even noticed her yet.

"He's at one-fifteen," the nurse says. "We have no idea how he's even still alive."

"That has to be a mistake," May says. "That's not possible."

"We've checked it with a different thermometer every time ma'am." The nurse looks at her dubiously. "I'll get the doctor," he says.


"It seems like an advanced case of chemical pneumonia," Doctor Waldroup tells May. "Basically, he aspirated something bad, and it got infected in his lungs. But his body's working way too hard to fight it, and he's throwing up or burning off all the meds we give him." She pauses. "I'm sorry, Mrs. Parker. We're doing everything we can, but if things keep going the way they are... I would call the whole family in. Let him see them."

"What are his chances?" May asks.

The doctor hesitates. "That's probably not something you really want to know, ma'am." She says it slowly, pulling at the edge of a bandage that is barely keeping the dam from spilling in May's brain.

"Please. What are his chances."

Waldroup bites her lip. "Optimistically?" she says. "15 percent."

May feels the hope rush out of her. "It's just us, Doctor. He doesn't—We don't have anyone else." She can feel the tears she'd been fighting back spill over her cheeks when another of Peter's cries reaches them.

"Look, Mrs. Parker," Dr. Waldroup says. "We're not going to stop trying. He's still alive, which is much more than we can reasonably expect given his current condition. He's been resistant since he opened his eyes, but if you could help calm him down, we might be able to do more."

May nods fervently. "I should—" her voice breaks. "I should make a call first."


Tony Stark loves code names. He always has. It's a nice subtle way to get in a little snub at someone if he wants to, but more importantly, it keeps things private. When Tony gets the call, he's in the middle of a meeting with the board, but F.R.I.D.A.Y. always puts Charlotte A. Cavatica through. And yeah, it's a little obvious, but no one ever looks that hard or even hears the protocol the order goes through—Webs: he was feeling nostalgic at the time.

When he gets the call, he's in a board meeting, pretending to sleep. F.R.I.D.A.Y. interrupts some blowhard monologue from Smith about something Tony really doesn't have any interest in or concern over. Smith is always worried about dumb, inconsequential shit. At first, he's relieved. But Cavatica never calls him unless it's to chew him out or ask—read: demand to know—where young Wilbur is, so he's nearly immediately brought back down to Earth.

"Boss," F.R.I.D.A.Y. announces. Every board member frowns, and Pepper narrows her eyes at him and shakes her head almost imperceptibly. "Mrs. Charlotte A. Cavatica is calling regarding the Spinneret Project. Wilbur, specifically. She says it's urgent."

"Tony," Pepper whispers, her words filled with fire and venom, "I swear to God, you cannot just keep making up people and projects and emergencies to get out of your responsibilities."

Tony grimaces at her, pulling air through his teeth loudly. "Sorry, Pep," he says. "F.R.I.D.A.Y., I'll take that call in the nearest secure room." He stands and gives Pepper a loud, wet kiss on the cheek. "Important, personal, classified matters to attend to," he announces with a dismissive wave of his hand as he strides out of the room.

His stomach drops into his shoes when he hears May's voice on the other end of the line.