Now came the issue of actually getting Peter inside my apartment, as I lived on a high floor and I just couldn't waltz in there with Spiderman bleeding to death and clinging to me now could I?
I half supported, half dragged Peter to the side of the apartment complex. Stopping so that Peter could lean against the wall, I cupped his face with one hand, the other wrapped around his waist to support him, and to keep him from clawing at the still steadily bleeding wound.
"Peter? Hey, Peter, look at me baby," I murmured, trying to get his attention.
"Mmm?" He hummed softly, his voice high and full of pain. Crap, I thought. He's going into shock.
"Peter baby, do you remember where my room window is?" I ask. Peter's head snaps up and his muscles go even tenser than they had been. He knew where I was going, and he didn't like it.
"Y-yeah." He answered softly. Guilt pulls at my heart as my lips form the next words. I hated to ask him this, and I knew full well that I could be spelling out Peter's death. He was too weak to run, if he falls as he's climbing...I didn't want to think about that.
"I need you to climb up there for me. I'm so sorry, God, I really am but I can't just walk into my apartment with you as Spiderman." I said quickly
Peter moans, but rolls himself around and braces his hands on the wall, before yanking them back like it burned him.
"W-what if I fall?" He whispers, and sounds so much like a frightened child that tears rise to my eyes. Until I remember something and I smile.
"You won't," I say, holding out a spare web-shooter from my purse, "Remember you gave me these? Just shoot a web and swing up there, and I'll meet you from inside." I say. Peter took the web-shooter, and with a pained breath he nodded. I kissed him on the cheek of his mask, then ran into the building, racing up the stairs. I fumbled with my keys once I reached my door, but soon had them in and unlocked the door. I closed the door, locking it back before running into my room, turning on my light and opening the window quickly. Peter, who was leaning against it, all but fell in. If we hadn't been in the situation we were in, I may have laughed, but Peter was screaming softly, clutching his leg and trying to rip the bandages off. I grabbed his wrists, gently shushing him and laying him on my bed. I slipped a towel underneath his body so that blood would not get onto the blankets, and took off Peter's mask.
Peter's face underneath was a deathly white, covered in sweat, his hair plastered to his forehead. I gently combed through his hair with my fingers, stroking his face while whispering to him.
"It's gonna be ok Peter, I've got you now. You're safe, it's gonna hurt for a little while but I'm gonna make it better."
I couldn't tell if Peter could hear me. His pupils were large and he was staring up at nothing. His breathing was quiet, but if I listened closely it was forced. I shook him softly, whispering his name, but when Peter didn't react panic filled me, and suddenly I was shaking him violently, yelling his name until he blinked slowly, his distant, chocolate brown eyes meeting my panic filled ones. He chuckled softly, and I realise he was delirious.
"Y-your preeeetyy." He slurred, his mouth twitching into a grin. Blood. I realized. He's lost a lot of blood.
But what could I do? Peter's blood was mutated, ever since the spider bite. I didn't know what type of blood he had, and even if I did I didn't have any I could give him.
I shot up and grabbed the first aid kit from the wall in the halway, lugging the advanced kit into my room and onto my bed. I may not be able to give Peter blood, but I could at least stop the bleeding.
I frown, realizing I would either have to cut Peter's suit or take him out of it. I decided to cut the suit, knowing I could just make him another. Cutting of the thigh of his suit, I stared at the large wound, still leaking blood. Pouring hydrogen peroxide on the wound and wiping it with alcohol wipes, I was able to get a better look at the wound. I then pried out the bullet with tweezers, placing it on the towel beside me, and putting pressure on the wound as blood gushed out. With one free hand, I grabbed the disinfectant and poured that over the wound again, quickly placing a gauze pad over it and resuming the pressure. Grabbing some gauze wrap, I wrapped Peter's leg, tying it off and securing the bandage with medical tape.
I left the now unconscious Peter, (he had passed out as soon as I poured the disinfectant on the wound with a pained scream) and grabbed an ice pack from the freezer in the kitchen, taking a tray from the cabinet, I placed the ice pack, a glass of water, and some painkillers on it and carried it back to my room, shutting the door softly behind me. I dimmed the lights, placing the tray on my nightstand and picking up the ice pack. I placed the ice pack over the bandages, securing it to Peter's leg using medical tape. Then, I unzipped Peter's boots, placing them at the foot of my bed. I peeled the rest of his suit off and folded it to the best of my ability, placing it on top of my dresser, along with his mask. I took out the pair of pajamas Peter had left last time he stayed, thankful that Peter had forgotten to pick them up, and carefully dressed him in the grey sweatpants and blue shirt. Even in unconsciousness Peter cried out when moved. There were gashes on his chest, the scars of previous ones. This lizard had certainly left it's mark on Peter. I cleaned those and wrapped up his chest. Finally, I threw away the bullet and cleaned up the kit, returning it to the wall. I lifted the towel from under him and placed it in my laundry basket, wrapping Peter up in blankets. Grabbing a warm, damp washcloth, I began to clean his face, until I was just running my fingers through his damp hair, beginning my vigil over him.