Due to the downgrade of his physical state of health, Peter Parker finds himself perfectly on time for Dr Connor's class, which actually allows for him to catch up on that paper of his.
It may not be ideal, sitting in these uncomfortable wooden seats plastered into the ground, wincing when he moves just so in a way it sends a jolt of pain in all polar directions, starting from his bruised side. But it's mostly alright as he brainstorms what the next paragraph will look like and makes sure to do his research as Dr Connor said, since him and Otto are pals.
Considering he's only in class, he tries not to make much of a scene or be too obvious with how when he positions his arm, which unfortunately is the one with his dominant hand, it hurts his shoulder a little. Thankfully his shoulder is nothing more than extremely sore, that's the extent of it, but any movement of the torso brings another story.
It's a shame, he'd manage to escape with another day to see and an interruption of criminal activity. However, he didn't really get much of a lead on the advanced weapons other than the fact that there's a lot of people involved, it seems
Which is a problem.
So, maybe it's that, maybe he's too busy worrying about the problem of this new and large group of crooks that are buying some weapons. Or maybe it's the pain, or maybe he's just out of his head, because when he hears Dr Connor call his name and looks up, apparently it's the third time he's been called. Which is unfortunate and maybe a little bit embarrassing, so he quickly ruffles down his shirt and practically climbs out of his chair to meet Dr Conner at the front where he resides by his desk.
When he reaches the man, Dr Conner is marking something down on a paper, scribbling a date down and momentarily looking up at Peter.
"You know, Otto called me," He says and Peter stills, trying to think of a response, and ends up awkwardly breathing out a very unconvincing laugh.
"Oh, really?"
"Yeah," his professor tells him, then goes back to looking at his paper and smiles just barely. "He said you got to see what he's working on, I'm assuming you were very impressed? His work is marvelous."
"Uh," Peter stalls, and his big nerdy brain tries not to get so excited and nervous at the fact that the Doctor Otto Octavious mentioned him to somebody. But, yet, at his big grown up age, he can't help it, and smiles, a little sheepish but more something like honored. "Oh, wow. Yeah-yes. It was incredible."
Dr Conner nods, humming lightly and tapping the desk with his pen. "It is. He is. Also, I'm guessing it's alright to assume you've gotten work done on your paper considering you've met with the man? It might count as up and close research, yes?"
"Oh, yeah. Totally," Peter says, which is mainly the truth. He's gotten a good portion of it. Maybe not as much as the average student in this class, but he's also been busy trying to find answers to this new weapon seller whose products have just come to his attention. "Getting to talk with him really inspired a boost of productivity, so."
"That's great to here, Peter," Dr Conners comments, then blinks up at him. "I'm glad you could make it to a class, by the way."
Peter tries to remember not to curl in on himself, because it makes him realize just how much he misses coming to this class, how many times he hasn't showed up because he's too busy swinging around, stopping crimes, or throwing punches- or even taking them. Dr Conners doesn't know he's Spider-Man, of course. Nobody does and nobody should. So there isn't any sort of extension he gets on his assignments for being busy with other responsibilities.
So it's sort of a shame the only real reason he made it is because he's in too much pain right now to head out and search again. But still, he sighs, smiles, and nods. "Me too."
When the class ends, Peter isn't hurting that much, and he continues and continues to be thankful for the fact that he's got some sort of healing system that came with his powers that allows him to recover a bit quicker, that makes all of this a little more tolerable.
Still, for the first time in a moment, he decides not to swing his way across the city for travel. It's strange, but he actually doesn't have anywhere to be at the moment, which is a little rare.
Whether he made this choice from being in pain or thinking about Dr Conner's words, Peter finds himself walking down the sidewalk, underneath the warmth of the evening sun without feeling wind rush past him as he flings himself forward in the air.
It makes him think, maybe too much, about the fact that he's barely been to class, he hasn't really hung out with his friends. Not too often, really.
He does wish living a double life was a bit easier, but he supposes it's true you can't win them all.
If Peter's going to help people as Spider-Man and be a normal citizen with a life, he supposes it's expected that there would be a bunch of hiccups attempting to separate and manage them.
But right now he declares that walking to get some tacos is a good way to manage his time. He plops his cash on the surface of the cart, and the kind and busy man hands him his requested tacos.
Which are good, he notes, walking around before seating himself on the ledge of some garden nook behind him, a small and thin tree providing him enough shade so he doesn't have to squint, but can still feel the sun stretch out to him.
It's a good late lunch, a good well time spent, and he kinda hates to hear the peaceful buzz of life, consistent and controlled, break out when he hears an alarm go off in the distance and the faint sound of commotion.
It's too bad, he thinks, couldn't even eat two full tacos without crime.
He sighs, knowing he has his spidey suit right now, and tries to stuff the last bits of his taco into his mouth before taking off to somewhere secluded where he can quickly change and head for the scene.
When he arrives, he doesn't know whether or not he should be surprised that one of the people attempting to steal is armed with those strange weapons, the ones that glow and target you with some purple energy- Peter hasn't fully figured out what it is.
He just knows he's gotta be a bit more than careful, here, considering if he didn't have his powers he would have a broken ribcage if he was just the average, no transforming spider-bite person. When he lifts his body up, spinning, he tries to ignore the way it stains on him, because at least he's dodged their rays.
Momentarily, he thinks about how Black Cat would disapprove of this, of how he leaps down from a street light pole and rolls to the ground, grunting with the uneasy pain of it, and knocks a crook off their feet.
His side buzzes dully with pain, and he ignores it, and instead focuses on shooting out a web to yank the mysteriously advanced gun away from the criminal. The other one, though, with an even bigger looking gun, of course has to be the one carrying a gym bag full of stolen jewelry.
He sighs. "You know, there are better ways to make money than stealing." He tells them, although most likely they aren't listening, as he throws the crook over his shoulder, and jumps up, then effectively strings him to the light pole and dodges a blast from the one who's still armed.
He lands on his feet, well-balanced, and shoots webbing towards the other's face to disrupt their vision and focus. With his attempt being successful, he can easily forget the way it pulls on his shoulder a little more than his body wants, and continues to advance towards them.
Of course, though, with their exclaims of surprise and frustrain, they translate their lack of awareness by firing their weapon all over. Thankfully, most of it just travels upwards and doesn't hit anyone or anything, but when Spider-Man is too busy trying to dodge and deflect any that come towards where he is, he almost misses how one shoots right up against a big billboard where it's attached to a brick rooftop, and it starts to lean.
His spidey senses go off like crazy, and he just barely notices the big metal pole that detached itself from the billboard and starts tilting towards a small crowd that's trying to disperse from the danger-zone with chaos, and it threatens to fall just as a single brick tears off, landing on the sidewalk and erupting a panicked yell from somebody who had a close call. The fallen brick unfortunately encourages the tumbling and deconstruction of the billboard, and Spider-Man grimaces when he realizes there's a crying toddler who is too afraid to move and an adult, parent or not, hasn't thought of just picking the kid up and moving away from the danger.
It's time to really focus, here. He tries to be as quick as he can when he kick spins the armed robber, and tugs the gun from their hold, and nearly gets shot in the foot, leaving the asphalt of the road to jump out from a mini-explosion. Thankfully the whole is only the size of a baseball, so any debri doesn't go flying and he doesn't have to worry about that.
Instead, he turns to the extremely close to falling mess across the street. He dashes towards the little kid, not minding the high volume of his frightened scream when he picks him up. Because, really, if he was that old, he would be screaming and crying his head off too.
He swoops him up, and leaps with all his might so that there's plenty of distance, and thanks whatever made him lucky enough that there's a cop car pulling up.
"Poor guy was too scared to move," He says, rushing out his words and ushering the kid to the police, and one of them nods. Then, he instantly heads back off to the mess, and grimaces at the occasional dropping brick.
Somebody's cat has gotten too curious, and has strolled straight underneath the leaning billboard and perched itself on a flagpole, the metal pole dangling dangerously right above the feline's head.
Spider-Man huffs, thankful that at least there aren't any people in the hot spot. There, of course, is a crowd gathered around, some even recording the event.
See, this makes himself remember why he has to be Spider-Man, because although there's a ton of people that could have quickly darted in and grabbed the toddler to save him from danger, none of them did, not even whoever was originally watching the kid. Which, yes, it is a little sad and questionable, but at least he's here to save people.
And cats, as well. He loses his breath for a second when he lands on the brick wall, as his shoulder doesn't like the impact, but he was thinking too much not be a little bit clumsy. Which isn't good, so he ignores his thoughts and the strain is brings to twist himself in order to move past a bunch of flags, balconies, and fire escapes, just in order to reach the cat.
The cat seems careless, or maybe just unaware of the danger it's in. But it's calm manner is actually helpful to him. He peeks at the name tag, reading her name as ' Darling' and tucks the cat into the safety of his arm.
"Okay, Darling, we've gotta stop this pole from falling-"
His spidey senses once again fly off the charts and he hears the loud creaking and moaning of the structure before his head snaps up to see the pole falling down straight towards him and Darling. His eyes widen, he hears plenty of people gasp, and he holds the cat tighter as he flips himself over, out of its path, and shoots out a web to try and catch onto it. He barely manages it, but the line of webbing tightens and holds the pole just barely above the ground.
It yanks him forward, though, and the pole stumbles downwards a little. It also fully tugs on something on his shoulder, of course, the bruised one too, and he fully winces at the sharp pain that bursts from it. He's pulled something, or something's out of place. He has no idea. But it hurts, and he groans both with the force of holding up the pole with one arm, and because of the pain.
"Darling," He calls the cat, who is still isn't fully phased by the situation she's in. "Darling, can you uh crawl up to my shoulder or something, I need both arms here."
And much to his luck- like really, he's lucky here, because Darling is exceptionally good at taking orders. Which is incredible, and he sighs with relief and chuckles with amusement as Darling meows, then moves out of the pocket his arm has created. He doesn't mind the way her claws poke at his suit, one of them scratching against his skin, because he has much bigger and important things to care about. When the cat's settled onto the back of his shoulder, she grounds her claws into his skin, and so far it's been the only sign that she's known the weight of the circumstance, as she must realize she needs to stay balanced and secure.
His lips twitch at the feeling of her claws, and he doesn't allow himself to have any other reaction as he shoots out another web to cling onto the pole. Here, at this point, he can slowly lower the pole, closing the ten feet between the pole and the concrete. This way, the doesn't go plunging straight into the ground and possibly rolling or tipping off somewhere to cause any further damage.
Due to his progression down the building, he manages to find a safe spot to drop Darling off, letting her into the fire escape where she only offers a single meow, maybe a thank you or goodbye, he doesn't know, and she swiftly and efficiently makes her way down.
He takes a look at the pole that he's still holding up, letting it just barely skim the ground, and he wonders if he needs to gamble at all in order to let it reach the ground fully, and not stand upright.
A brick falls, disrupting his thought process, and knocks on his elbow, making him slip a little with his grasp, and the pole knocks the ground and threatens to tilt.
"Ah, shit," He mutters underneath his breath, and as he tries to steady the pole two more bricks fall, and he only misses colliding with the third thanks to his spidey senses. One hits the pole, allowing a dull and loud vibrating sound to wave out, and he is quickly confused when he can hear an assortment of noises coming from above him, like there's somebody up there.
It's only confirmed when he hears the crowds surprised and curious voices, their attentions moving away from him to the billboard, and he lifts his head up, watching as two more bricks fall from the sudden movement up there, and thankfully both aren't near him.
He squints, trying to look through the gap between the billboard and the billboard, and he can only the bottom of two legs in black, and he starts to have a sneaking suspicion. He isn't entirely sure though, and tilts his head with interest.
But then he watches as the person crouches, finding him between the gap, and he sees Black Cat's mask and smile greeting him from floors up.
"Oh, Cat, you're here?" He asks, calling out to her and she grins.
"Thought you could use a hand," She says, then blinks back as the stand of the billboard makes a sound of protest towards staying in place, and dares to lean more. So then she's quickly making a move to pull the billboard back, and Spider-Man's eyes catch onto some sort of thick black rope she's using. Of course, out of all the bricks that have fallen, maybe around ten, it wasn't totally enough, and one hurdles itself downwards, and he mentally curses at whoever built this building as he jerks, but it still nips at his thumb, and it feels terrible.
"Dammit," He mutters, annoyed at the now pulsing pain of his thumb, and blinks up at Black Cat. "You're dropping some stuff."
"I know, Spider , I'm trying not to, can't help it," She shouts at him, and her tone is only a little frustrated, and he guesses that's fair, it's not her fault, even the way he said Spider wasn't as fond as usual. He's just in pain, that's all, and realizes he might wanna keep his mouth glued shut unless totally necessary, because he can bet only more complaints will spill out of him, ones that have no place.
So he keeps quiet and when his eyes land on some sort of heavy construction truck that's being backed up towards him, his shoulders sag with relief when he realizes it's for the pole.
He busies himself with working with the cops and the construction crew instead, not focusing on the way his shoulders practically scream at him when he ends up having to help lift onto the truck, the pole weighing down on him.
Eventually, though, it's fastened and secured, and he doesn't have to worry about it anymore, and his shoulders can maybe start to relax. Maybe, of course, is the safe option because he can't be too sure.
And as soon as he remembers about Black Cat, she's calling out to him saying he needs to get up here now.
So he follows her instructions, meeting her at the roof, and the crowd almost disappears when he sees her and he realizes they can't see either of them back here behind the billboard.
It's a strange little thought, so he quickly dismisses it and rushes to help her.
"You know, you're supposed to be resting," She says, then grunts as they have the billboard back up, and he can distantly hear people's approval, but Cat's voice is just so much louder, and he offers her a shrug.
"So I'm not supposed to do anything when I see something happen?" He retorts, then the two have to move fast to catch the billboard so it doesn't crash into the roof. Despite his words, his stomach twists when he glances at Black Cat, and the two work together to lower the billboard gently down. Because it's him and her and whatever, he doesn't know, he just actually might throw up- which he's only realized this very second, as his head explodes when it finally gets the chance to stop working because everything's been done.
He drops to the ground, resting on the billboard, and sighs heavily. Even though he's been feeling his injuries this whole time, they really start to settle back in since he doesn't have anything to focus on instead. Nothing he can choose over them. There's a small headache forming itself at the forefront of his head, and he groans, a little more in need of some water, and tries to squeeze his thumb to stop it from hurting as Black Cat takes a seat next to him.
"You're supposed to be resting so you don't make any of these-" She starts, pointing a finger at his shoulder and furrowing her brows when he flinches away from the touch and breathes in sharply. " Worse. You're making them worse."
He waves a hand. "I have…" He stalls, almost failing to find his words, then nudges her outstretched hand away with his elbow. "This stuff goes away eventually, I've always managed to keep on being Spider-Man you know. This- it isn't as big of a deal as you think. I've got powers."
She huffs, almost frustrated, he thinks, but when he tilts his head he can see the way her lips are pulled downwards slightly. It makes him strangely conflicted inside, like a part of him is just dying for her to leave, to wordlessly acrobat to another building. Because well, why is she helping him anyways? Yesterday she didn't give some big reason, just told him she was going to.
And now, she's back, telling him he should still be resting like she's some doctor. And he half allows it, anyways, doesn't he. Of course, he still pushes at it, and now that's got him stuck with Black Cat judging him as she crosses her arms.
"But you've got limits, don't ya?"
"Yeah," He says, because he does. "But these injuries? They're fine, they aren't the line."
She blinks, and he can tell she's trying to find some way to respond, something that is probably serious, but he catches the moment she decides against it, sighs, and looks away.
"All my hard work to patch you up and instantly you've gone and thrown my efforts away," She complains, jokingly, voice light, even if she's still questioning him and his actions, wondering why he hadn't just listened and given a break to all of this Spider-Man stuff. It makes him ponder over whether she would understand any of it, the responsibility of being Spider-Man, the weight of weari