I'm back! Sorry for the delay. :D Writer's block has been BRUTAL... But I think my mind has finally sped up again and I'm back to a normal writing schedule! :) This chapter is a bit shorter than other ones, but I wanted to end with a specific cliffhanger. And I promise that after this chapter, I'll stop cruelly torturing Peter, at least for the time being. :)

As for my Marvel fanatic updates, I saw Thor and The Avengers in the last two days and they were amazing! I got so much Loki recently! Yes! I don't care if he's a villain, he's still awesome in my eyes. Now I'm going to work on watching all of the movies leading up to Avengers: Age of Ultron. I want to be fully up to date with all of Avengers before Avengers 4 next year!

OH! The next chapter will reveal the truth behind the weird incident by the window! That is, if you haven't figured it out already... Haha!

I don't really know what else to say about this chapter...

Enjoy!

Disclaimer:

I do not own the Spiderman franchise, the Marvel franchise, or any of the characters. That all belongs to Marvel Studios. Everything to Marvel Studios. Any added dialogue, plots, or characters are mine, but nothing else. I don't own it.

Chapter Five - Breaking Glass

I drift into awareness painfully and discern a wet rag pressed against my forehead. Pans clink from nearby and bare feet drag along wood floors.

A voice that I don't even recognize as my own rasps out of a scratchy throat. "May…?"

"Peter?" May appears at my side, peeling the washcloth off my skin. Her fingers brush my forehead and she bites her lip. "You're still hot."

My vision still fuzzy, I blink a few times to focus and notice the familiar setting of my living room. I'm on the couch swaddled in furry blankets. Waves of heat pulse from my body and I stick my foot out of the blankets only to yank it back in again when a bout of shivers attacks me. "Am…am I sick?"

"You've got a high fever. I've been trying to bring it down, but nothing's really helping. If it gets worse, I'm going to have to take you to the hospital." May withdraws and plops onto a stool beside the couch.

I move my head to the side to see her better, wincing as the back of my neck burns. Observing her with glazed eyes, memories dart through my head.

"There are people who handle this sort of thing. And guess what? They're called the Avengers. And you're. Not. One of them."

"I told you to run away from things like that, and now I find out that you're the one rushing up and battling them single-handily?"

I wet my lips. "You aren't…mad at me? About what happened?"

My aunt's eyes shadow and she averts her eyes. It takes a few seconds for her to answer. "One day is not going to clear the effects of that argument. I'm still mad. Furious, actually. But that doesn't stop me from wanting to take care of you. In fact, our fight made that impulse stronger." After replacing the rag, Aunt May seats herself on the stool again and makes no move to rise. We stay in the same positions for a few minutes, enduring the awkward silence.

"Y'know… May… You don't have to stay here forev– ."

"Nope. I'm staying right here. Every minute, every hour. Anything you need, I'll get it."

I examine her stiff posture and unsteady gaze. Another sting of memory hits me.

"You're not my mom!"

"May, you're…you're trying to prove yourself."

She turns to me. "Do you want anything? Some water? An Ibuprofen? Wanna watch a movie?"

"Stop ignoring me." I try to sit up, but a painful swirl of dizziness drives a cry from my chest and May pushes me back onto the pillows again.

"Shhh… Rest. Is there anything you want?"

I frown at her, but her persistent look forces me to respond. "I-I could go with another Ibuprofen. My head really hurts."

"Sure." May strides out of my sight and a few seconds later, she groans. "Peter, there're no more left. I'm gonna have to…go get some more at the grocery store." She walks back into my view. "Do you…um…" Biting her lip, she kneels by my side. "Do you think you'll be okay until I get back?"

"May, I'll be fine." I offer a light grin. "You don't have to obsess over me."

"I'll call Ned's mother and see if she can bring Ned over. I don't want you to be alone." Her voice chokes on the last word, but she scurries back out of my vision before I can assess the situation further. A few minutes later, I get a small kiss, a goodbye, and the door shutting with a quiet click.

Sighing, I turn over, grimacing at the pain thrumming through my whole body. Where did this sickness come from? I was fine yesterday until my headache, and then everything went downhill from there. It's confusing. A sudden thirst for water scratches at my throat and I decide to heed its call. In one, fluid movement, I swing my legs over the side of the couch and shoot to my feet, enduring the pain and staggering to the counter where a glass of water is already prepared for me.

I lean against the island counter, attempting to merge the dividing object.

Three cups. Two. Three. Four. Two. One.

My shaking hand grips the glass and tips the liquid into my mouth.

When I put it down, the dizziness relaunches itself, twice as strong as before.

Six cups. Seven. Eight.

My head reeling, I inch along the counter, so lightheaded that I can't even see one foot in front of me. One more step and I slump to the floor, breathing heavily.

Eyes fluttering shut, I lay there, the nape of my neck roaring with agony. With every beat of my heart, my fingers twitch. Usually I would be able to hear noises in other rooms, but instead, a thunderous ringing thumps in my skull.

After what feels like an eternity, a pair of hands grab my shoulders and a voice breaks the ringing.

"Peter!"

"N…Ned…"

"Are you okay?"

One of his hands makes contact with nape of my neck and I recoil as a searing discomfort blooms through my muscles.

"What-what do you want me to do?"

"Just…just get me…to the couch…"

There's a bit of shuffling around, but eventually, Ned guides me safely to the couch and takes up a spot beside me.

"You with me, man?"

I moan in answer.

"Do you want me to sweep up the glass?"

I open my eyes. "The-the glass?"

"There was cup that fell by the counter. You didn't know? You hear everything."

Shrugging, I bring the blankets up to my chin. "I can barely even hear you." Regardless of my nonchalant answer, a worm of unease weighs in my stomach. Ned's right. I can hear exceptionally well due to the spider bite, and alongside that, all of my other senses are multiplied.

But now, it's like they've been shut down.

Running my fingers along the couch, I wince as both of my hands sting.

"Uh…Peter?"

"What…?"

"Do…do you hear that?"

For the first time, I realize his voice is shaking. Forcing my eyes to cooperate, I glance at Ned, whose face is pale. "What's going on?" I sit up, slamming my teeth against a whimper as the room spins.

"Listen."

"I told you, I can barely even hear you let alone– ."

"Listen!"

I shut up.

One second. Two seconds. Three seconds.

A scrabbling, tapping sound resonates off of the walls of the house. Muffled voices creep beyond the fog of my mind.

"Can you…can you hear what they're saying?" I bring myself shakily to my feet.

Ned cross-examines me, his eyebrows pressing close together. "Dude, you should not be standing. Sit down."

"I need to…figure out what's going on…"

"You look like you're about to pass out– Sit down!"

Unable to stay upright any longer, I drop to the floor, panting and clawing for something to hold onto. Ned is at my side at once, pulling me to a wall for me to lean against.

The tingling in my muscles is so intense that I can't feel Ned's hands on me.

"Since when were you this sick?"

"This isn't just the fever…" I close my eyes to stop the room from spinning. "Something else is wrong… My senses are going crazy…"

Glass breaks from nearby and Ned screams.

Through the pounding of my pulse and the ringing in my ears, I can't bring myself to open my eyes even though Ned's yelling my name.

"Well, what do we have here? Poor Spider's been caught in his own web…"

I tear my eyes open to find four men dressed in black around the living room, broken window glass crunching under thick boots and loaded guns in their hands. The one who had spoken is closest to us with a face that's haunting familiar.

Digg.

I forget about my fever under the chill of his grim smile and shrink further against the wall when he steps forward, pointing his gun at me.

Ned grunts an inaudible word and pushes in front of me, his arms spread wide.

"Step aside, kid." Digg jerks his head to the side, shifting his aim to Ned. "I won't hesitate to put a bullet through your head."

The other men crowd around us, weapons at the ready.

All I can see are the guns and Digg's face. They're gonna kill Ned. They're gonna kill Ned and take me. Then Vulture is gonna kill me. Stark. Mr. Stark. I've gotta call him. He needs to know. "N-Ned."

He grips my wrist.

I have to tell him to call Mr. Stark. In a way that Digg won't understand. What should I say? What should I say? "I-Iron. Alert. Underoos."

Ned pauses for a minute as Digg turns his gun back to me.

"Don't try anything, Spider-boy."

I shiver, blinking to focus my swerving gaze.

Ned bolts out of the room, his footsteps ramming on the staircase.

Two of the men holler to each other, racing to follow him.

Digg shoves the barrel of the gun to my forehead. "We can kill your friend. And I can kill you. Just with the flick of a trigger."

A cold pit in my stomach prevents any words from escaping. Come on. You're Spiderman. You can fight these guys off. You can save Ned. The gun follows me as I stand.

"We know you're sick, Spider-boy. That's why we came. You're no match for us."

My breath catches in my throat as Ned's muffled shriek and the slamming of a door come from upstairs.

Digg chuckles. "One down."

A surge of red flashes in my mind and I lash out, barreling into Digg and knocking him to the ground. I wriggle off of him and punch the remaining grunt in the chest, who doubles over.

Digg leaps to his feet, kicking me in the stomach and hitting me against the wall. I lunge to the side to avoid him, but the side of a gun strikes my temple and I stumble back with a cry. I barely have time to react before Digg pins me against the wall, yellow teeth in a crooked smile. "I'm doing this for money, Spider-boy. Don't make this any harder."

My adrenaline is fading by now. The chills and weakness from my fever catch up with me and the world starts to sway. "L…Let go…"

Digg's hand curls around my throat.

The immediate build-up of pressure stops the breath in my lungs and I begin to panic when I realize I can't breathe.

"I'm bringing you to Toomes and that's final. I'll get my money's worth outta this kidnapping. One more move, and– ."

Something crashes through the front door and dust chokes the room. Red and yellow metal flickers in the rubble.

Digg sputters a curse and scrabbles away from me, gun aimed. I collapse to the floor, coughing.

"Peter!"

Energy explodes into my limbs. I dive into the room to my right, but Digg pursues me, gun raised. Glancing back, I catch a glimpse of his face, twisted, dark, and wide-eyed.

Click.

Pressure traps left shoulder and everything goes numb. I freeze, peering down. Blood pours down my arm. Pain. Burning, ripping pain. With every feverish heartbeat, the blood streaks my arm red.

A solid object collides with my head as I'm staggering backward.

Red. White. Blurry. I'm falling, fading.

White.

Then nothing.

AUTHOR'S NOTES: I know, I know, this is the third chapter in a row where it ends with Peter falling asleep, but this is different. He's passing out this time, not JUST falling asleep. Again, I promise I'm not going to follow on that same pattern and have him suffer in these next few chapters. He's not going to be in too good of a shape in the next chapter, but after everything's cleared up, things will get better. I promise. :D

Hope you enjoyed! Read and review!