In Which They Talk It Out

Peter slept curled on his side.

Wires appeared and protruded from under the blanket and weaved to the monitor. The vitals were still stable. His face was swallowed by some childhood slumber. Only the oxygen tube and the paleness of his cheeks broke that illusion.

Catherine shook as she moved. The adrenaline and her own low blood sugar being the simple cause of it. She couldn't remember the last time she ate. The chair complained under her weight but it felt so good. Her breath came out quietly. She still watched his numbers and lines, monitoring and rechecking the stats with what was normal for him. Shortly after meeting him and finding out his baselines, she had committed them to memory. It was only good practice.

The time on her clock was unreal. Six hours were gone. She hadn't felt a single one of them. It was worth it to get Peter stable. Catherine had pumped the kid full of fluids and antibiotics which he ate up at an alarming rate. The fever had broken a couple hours in and he had started to respond weakly to treatment. By hour five, she had been able to fully carry him out of immediate danger.

Her eyes dipped and she supported her head. The chair squealed further under her weight as she sank further back. The muscles in her neck were screaming.

The tests told her Peter Parker had succumbed to a strange almost parasitic variation of the flu. It was hard to believe.

It didn't matter. The primary tests stated that and she had treated it accordingly. Probably from a combination of exhaustion and drugs, the kid had slipped into sleep when the fever broke. Part of her job was listening to the human body. Peter slept to heal and not waking him had kickstarted that process.

Yet, his healing was still slow.

What had her plan for the day been? She couldn't even remember.

Her head rolled to her chest. She needed coffee or maybe, a little part of her whispered, she needed sleep. Blasphemy. There was an extra blanket for Peter but he had never asked for it. Her arm went out, grasping the fabric and pulling it over her chest. She wanted to be warmer but it was best to keep it colder for Peter.

He moved across the room and her eye, she hadn't realized that she had closed them, opened to check on him. He was fine, just a twitch, maybe his hand had extended out. The restlessness was insubstantial as long as those numbers held true. Everything besides the monitor felt strange and hazy.

Her knee came up, pushing against the arm of her chair, jamming herself further in. She was right here. Peter could wake her in less than a second if he needed too. She swallowed dryly and one final part of her tried to hold on to staying awake but her consciousness peeled off and she spun into sleep as well.

"The doc's all crashed out. I think you're okay to go in."

Tony? The words stirred her from blank dreams. How long had she been asleep? Someone stepped quietly across the room and the door clicked shut again. She felt so heavy and her mind moved slowly. She been dead asleep. Nothing ached yet but she was sure that was coming. She couldn't bother moving.

"Honey…?" Aunt May's voice woke her up. Pants rustled and shoes squeaked. She was couching down by the bed.

"Hey May…" Peter's voice was rough and sluggish. "You're here. I-" He was stopped as the cot squealed. May's let out a muffled sob in his shoulder.

Now Catherine couldn't move. The moment was too private, too personal. Nor did she have the heart to pull the aunt away. Peter shouldn't be contagious now. The fever had broken and she had not caught anything herself.

Peter's voice was quiet. "I'm okay. Ms. Catherine been taking good care of me."

"Look at this. You're all wired up. You look like a science experiment."

They laughed and hushed each other realizing that Catherine was still there. She stirred a little, adjusting the worst of the muscle cramps that were forming. They waited a second.

"She's really asleep." May whispered.

Peter whispered back. "She's kinda one of the reasons I'm still around. Not just this time, all the times."

A complete lie.

"You scared me Pete. You know that right?"

A pause. The pillow crumpled.

"I know."

"We can't keep not talking about this."

"I know."

"You can't hide this from me."

This time he almost cut her off. "I-I-I know. I just don't want you to be scared."

"I'm scared every day now. Every night you go out, I'm afraid that you aren't coming back."

"I'm sorry."

There was a real apology in there. He meant it.

"You know what would make me less scared?" Aunt May was mothering him now, bring him gently to her conclusion. Catherine couldn't remember how long she had been at this. It could have been less than a year. Peter didn't talk about his real parents.

"What?"

"If you told me the truth. The real truth."

There came the real pause.

"Okay."

"Okay?" The question was a teasing seriousness.

"Yeah. I'll tell you."

"Are you sure? Here, I need a closer look at that honesty." She asked and Peter stifled a yell. Catherine's eye peeked open. May had rolled into bed with him, shoving him over. He tried to push her away but it was too late. She settled in next to him.

"Hmmm…" she stared at him and flopped onto her back. "It appears to check out but don't think we'll won't need some ground rules."

"May-" He crumpled his face.

"I am still your cool aunt but you've got to give me this one." She shoved him in the shoulder. "I'll be reasonable."

"Okay, okay, okay."

They laid together on the cot, studying at the ceiling for a while. The words didn't need to be spoken. Their faces were a relaxed exhaustion and the tension disappeared in the room.

"I'm so tired," Peter said softly.

"Then go sleep you silly goose."

It was only a minute later before he was fast asleep leaning gently on her. May smiled softly at him before she followed him.

Catherine waited listening the deep breathing before stiffly getting up, checking Peter's vitals one last time, slipping out and leaving them in peace.

"Keep in touch," Catherine said, the nerves still strong in her stomach. "You will be here in two days for a check up after school. Come straight here."

"I'm better now but okay." Peter stood in front of her as if nothing had happened, the Spider-Man costume sanitized and put away in a backpack. He was the kid that she knew, all bright eyes and colorful.

As quickly as the flu had come, it subsided, breaking down as his body started making a sudden beeline towards normal in the late evening. Something kicked in within him. Call it a miracle or 4,000 mg of liquid acetaminophen in 12 hours.

She couldn't keep Peter here. He was back to his healthy spider-y self. He had even done a heart attack inducing tumble off the ceiling to prove it. Now he wanted to go to school the next day. Considering that neither Aunt May or her had succumbed to anything, she couldn't hold that up as a defense.

"I can see that…be careful the next couple days, okay?"

"Listen to your doctor, Peter," Aunt May said and held out her hand, "Thank you."

May meant more than what she said. She could see it in her eyes. It made Catherine want to squirm.

She took her grip firmly instead. "I'm a nurse practitioner and it's my job."

May's other hand went on top of hers. "It's been more than your job." Catherine looked at the hand.

"Rrrrriiiiggghhttt," Peter cut between them, breaking the contact. "We've got to go. Good bye Ms. Catherine!" That last line was point more at Aunt May who clearly had more things to say.

"Bye Peter." Catherine didn't want them to go. They left easy in each other's company. Catherine watched them disappear through the back door. This was too simple. He got sick and well too fast, even for him. Her fingers rolled into her palm.

Even worse than that, Spider-Man would be called for something dangerous. It was only a matter of time and frankly she wasn't sure if Peter Parker was ready for that.

I almost jokingly called this chapter "In Which Everyone Takes Nap or Two". Honestly, I should probably be a little more serious about my chapter titles but I have too much fun with them at times. We are creeping up on Christmas and the holidays now. I've got to get my shopping done soon!

I like to mention this because I think sometimes readers forget or don't notice. This story has a schedule! It updates every Saturday...when I wake up. Haha.

Things are rolling along here. Nothing too too exciting yet. I'm not going to try to kid anybody that everything is worked out. We're chapter six of nineteen. What do you think? Let me know.

Thanks for reading as always. -Quin