Peter raced into the hospital, zooming past the front desk. His mind was racing even faster than his body was as he pondered what the news could be. The doctor hadn't said much over the phone outside of the fact that he finally had news for him and May. However, the thing that kept coming back to Peter's mind was the tone he said it in. It was calm and poised, but there had been just a hint of disappointment in it as well.
Finding the right room, Peter trotted inside, marching right up to May.
"Hey May, are you alright?" he asked. She didn't look any different from what he could see, but given there was an update, part of him had wondered if there had been some obvious change.
"I'm a little tired, but I'm fine, at least for now," May said. That last part stuck in Peter's mind like discarded gum on the street.
The two of them then turned to the doctor.
"So, doc, what's the news?" Peter asked.
The doctor directed them to some images that were up on a board that appeared to scans of May's brain.
"A couple days ago, we started noticing your aunt would struggle a little when it came to reading, and her memory on certain details was a little fuzzy here and there, so we concentrated our focus on that in particular," the doctor answered. "Just today, we were finally able to pick up on something."
The doctor gestured to one picture specifically.
"Are either of you familiar with the topmost part of the brain?" he asked.
"Yeah," Peter answered, "the cerebrum is what allows for the performing of intellectual activities, like reading or planning."
"Exactly," the doctor replied, "and it is split into two halves, with the two sides communicating through a bunch of nerve fibers."
"So, are the two sides s-struggling to c-communicate or something?" May asked. Her sudden stuttering did not go unnoticed by Peter. She tried to play it off as nothing, but he could see the cracks in the sturdy expression she was trying to put on.
"Kind of," the doctor replied. "The chemical combination you were exposed to has actually been putting a pressure on the cerebrum's abilities, kind of like when a computer struggles as it starts to contain too much data."
"So, she's suffering from some kind of information overload?" Peter asked.
"You could say that," the doctor replied, "or at least her brain thinks that. Really, the chemicals are just inhibiting the cerebrum's ability to perform its tasks and communicate across both sides."
"But the damage is at least contained to just that part, right?" May asked.
"For now, yes," the doctor replied, gesturing back to the pictures. "But, if you look at these pictures from a couple of days ago verses today, you can see that the problem is slowly starting to spread, so it won't be long before it moves onto the other parts as well."
For a moment, there was a collective silence in the room, as the end result of all this started to sink in.
"How long do I have, Greg?" May asked.
"My best estimate is about a month," the doctor replied.
"So, what, we're just giving up?" Peter said as he looked back and forth at both May and the doctor. "We're just going to quit? No, there has to be something we can do, some kind of treatment we can get, or..."
"There is one possibility," the doctor cut him off, "but it won't be easy to get."
"What is it?" Peter asked, his voice a bit lighter as he allowed just the slightest ray of hope into his mind.
"While there's no approved medical treatment for this, since it's such a unique thing, there is something being developed," the doctor explained. "It's a special treatment that's still in the experimental phase. Its purpose is to expand the abilities of the human mind to handle greater strains. The idea is that it could be a potential cure for diseases like Alzheimer's, but from everything I've heard from a contact about it, it sounds like your best chance, May."
"Great," Peter said, "how do we get it?"
"That's the hard part," the doctor replied. "I've already reached out about seeing if she could participate in the trials for this thing as a volunteer and receive it that way, but they aren't excepting anybody else. Also, because it's still experimental, it's not something that any kind of insurance is able to cover in any way. My contact thinks that the only way we can acquire it is if we meet an asking price for it."
"H-how much would it be?" May asked.
The doctor let out a sigh before answering.
"$250,000."
"A quarter of a million dollars?" May asked. "Where am I supposed to get that kind of money?"
"I'm still working with him to see if there's any possible way to lower it," the doctor added, "but you should start reaching out to those you know. Some of the hospital staff have already agreed to help, so I'm confident we can at least give you a decent start, but there will still be a lot to make up."
Silence fell over the room once again. Peter struggled to process everything he was being told; basically, he was going to lose his aunt unless he miraculously came up with the better part of a quarter of a million dollars, which was much more money than he had ever seen in his entire life. Such a task felt impossible.
Still, Peter had dealt with seemingly impossible situations many times before. Granted, this was as Spider-Man, but Peter needed to look at this the same way as when he would face a crazy hostage situation or a series of bombs that needed to be disarmed in a short amount of time. Those situations had high stakes involving human lives too, and he managed to solve them. They felt impossible at the time, just like this did, but he found a way then, and he and May would find a way now, together.
"Thank you doctor," Peter spoke up. "Could my aunt and I have a moment, please?"
"Of course," the doctor replied before taking his leave from the room.
Peter turned to May, who still seemed to be struggling with this information. He could already see how she didn't seem to be all there, and it made his heart sink in his chest. The dumping of news like this on her...
"Hey," Peter said, gently putting his hands against May's face. When her eyes met his, the life in her seemed to return a little.
"This is going to work, okay?" he said once he had her attention. "I promise, I'm going to find a way to get that money. This treatment will work, and soon you'll be back to your normal self, working and bugging me about girls again."
May nodded, but Peter wasn't sure how much she believed what he was saying. He wasn't even sure how much of what he said had properly sunk in, but he could tell she was trying. His aunt was a fighter, and he knew that she wouldn't go down quietly against this thing. He embraced her in a tight hug, finally allowing the tears that he'd been stifling for her sake to flow a little.
As soon as he got home, Peter immediately got out a piece of paper and a pen, beginning to brainstorm potential ideas for raising money. He hopped online to research odd jobs that he could do, perhaps for the people around the apartment complex. He was best with technology-related issues but helping his uncle with problems around the house growing up had taught him a lot about how to fix and repair everyday things as well.
However, his enthusiasm started to dwindle as he went on, because Peter came to the realization that, even if he performed some kind of random job for every single person in his apartment complex, it still wouldn't be anywhere close to enough. He had hoped to be able to find some way to do this where he would be able to avoid asking anybody for help; maybe it was how Ben and even May had raised him, maybe it was his stubborn pride, or a bit of both, but Peter had never been one to like to ask others for help in almost anything. Even at his lowest financially, he'd always found a way to at least scrape by, and he never wanted to feel like a burden to anybody.
This was different though. It wasn't just about him anymore; May's life was on the line. If ever there was anything to swallow his pride for, it was this. Still, who would he even ask? He'd already called Robbie and texted Eddie to explain the situation to them, saying he might not be at work to focus on things. After all, he was a salaried employee, which meant he couldn't gain any extra cash that way. Both had been understanding, each one volunteering to help out as best they could, and, knowing Robbie, Peter was sure he'd reach out to others at the Bugle about this as well.
Still, that was only going to get him so far.
The more he dwelt on it, the more Peter started to chastise himself for how withdrawn he'd been from the world as Peter Parker over the last several years. He'd been so sorry for himself ever since Gwen died, thinking that focusing on the superhero over the civilian was the right thing to do. Now, however, it felt almost as if all the good he'd done as Spider-Man meant nothing, because it had left him completely helpless to save the most important person in his life.
As his mind continued to spiral, Peter thought back to Mary Jane's offer.
"If you ever need, well, anything, I just want you to know that I'm here for you."
Granted, she had probably meant this in an emotional sense, like how he had been there for her. Also, while she was likely more well off than he was, she wasn't exactly rich either. After all, she ran a moderately successful store, not a global chain. Still, he needed to reach out to every possible avenue that he could.
Mary Jane pulled her bike up to its usual place, shutting it down and hopping off.
Thankfully, her talk with Liz at their early lunch had helped her get her thoughts more orderly, which enabled her to function better the rest of the day. The afternoon had ended up being very busy. Liz even speculated that it might've been one of their best non-holiday sale days yet. Though it had been fun to help so many other women with their attire choices, M.J. was exhausted. It was probably at least partially due to the emotional toll of everything that had gone on in just the past day or so, but the workday itself had only piled it on all the further.
Right now, nothing sounded better than some leftover pizza on the couch with a good movie playing to boot.
After emerging from the elevator onto her floor, she was surprised to see Peter standing at her door, knocking.
"I'm afraid no one's home right now," Mary Jane teased as she strolled up to him. "You know, this is where it might actually be nice to, I don't know, have the number of the person who lives here maybe? That way, you wouldn't have to wait for them to get home."
Her teasing/flirting brought a smile to Peter's face as well as some laughs, even as he lowered his head while doing so.
"I guess you're right," Peter remarked, making eye contact with her again. Mary Jane noticed something change in his expression as he did. His smile was still there, albeit a little less than before, but there was a kind of stress in his eyes, a sadness really.
"Are you okay?" she asked. "I feel like we've been asking that a lot of each other since we first met, but you seem like something's on your mind."
Peter smile started to fade as he shook his head.
"No, M.J, not really."
"You want to come in for a moment?" M.J. asked, gesturing towards her door.
"Yeah," Peter responded after glancing in that direction for a second. "Yeah, sure."
M.J. pulled out her keys, unlocking and opening the door, closing it behind Peter as he entered. She discarded her keys before crashing on the couch.
"What's up?" she asked as he took a seat on another chair in the living room. At first, he rubbed his hands back and forth against his legs, unable to look her in the eye. He then rubbed his hands together, fiddling with his fingers as he looked to the floor. Mary Jane said nothing else though, seeing that he clearly needed a moment to figure out how to say what she needed to say. She couldn't help but feel a little nervous at it all though, but she refused to let it show on the outside.
"My aunt, uh," he finally stammered, "I found out today that she's dying from something very rare, and the only way to treat it is with something still experimental, so insurance can't cover it. The hospital staff, since they all know and love her over there, they're putting together a little something to help out, but I'm trying to think of options as well as to how we're going to come up with the money."
Peter finally made an extended period of direct eye contact with her.
"Look, M.J," he continued, "I feel bad to ask, and I'm sure it wouldn't be much in the grand scheme of things, but..."
"Peter," she said, stopping him, "of course I'll help you."
A look of both surprise and relief took over Peter's face.
"Oh, thank you so much," he said. "I swear, I'll find a way to pay you back, I..."
"Uh, you'll do no such thing," Mary Jane replied as she took out her phone. "That's why it's called a gift. Here, let me look really quick."
She pulled up her bank accounts to see what she could do. They were pretty healthy, but at the same time, it was likely just as Peter had said: anything she could do was likely pretty tiny in the grand scheme of things. Still, she wanted to be as generous as possible.
"Hold on," she said, getting up and walking out of the room. She went to her room, where she kept a checkbook, making one out in the amount of $3,000. It would deplete her savings for some time, but it was worth it to her. She walked back to the room, handing the check to Peter.
"Here."
His eyes widened as he took it in his hands.
"M.J, are you..."
"Yes," she answered without hesitation. "Don't worry about me."
Peter looked back at the check, a smile coming on his face again.
"Thank you."
Peter ended up staying for a little while before taking his leave after about fifteen minutes of visiting. In that time, he filled M.J. in more on the details of what was going on, explaining that it was his aunt's brain that was the source of the issue, as well as more specifics on the situation regarding the treatment she required.
The more he'd shared, the more her heart sunk for him, as he was clearly being put in an impossible situation. Even after he left, Mary Jane's mind was restless, her own brain trying desperately to think of how she could help Peter beyond what she had just given him.
Suddenly, she had an idea.
Sprinting to her phone, she immediately dialed Liz, who answered after a few rings.
"Liz, I'm coming over," Mary Jane announced. "I have something that can't wait."
Hope you guys are still enjoying this! Also, I did my best to at least make the medical related stuff make at least some level of sense, so I apologize if I got something wrong or it just wasn't done as well as it could've been.
Anyway, know that I am continuing to pray for you all! Stay safe and healthy!
"My shield is God Most High, who saves the upright in heart." Psalm 7:10