The next two days, Peter begrudgingly didn't go out on patrol, but he didn't necessarily stop spidermanning. He and Ned had spent a couple hours the night before, clicking through a file that had headshots of every officer in the NYPD. Peter found two of the men from the alley, but was disappointed that he couldn't fully remember the other two officers' faces.

He probably should have finished his homework first, because calculus was just like ten times harder at 3am. The normal questions were…doable…but the extra credit on his most recent homework assignment had Peter stumped. He had even considered calling Tony for help. Peter pulled out his phone and was ready to dial when he heard a light cough, then the floorboards squeaking. He heard May continue coughing as she walked to the kitchen, getting a glass of water from the tap. Peter paused his homework, listening intently as May got back into bed.

Then, a yawn erupted from Peter's mouth, the kind of yawn that felt like it was going to pull a muscle. Glancing at the clock, he figured that the homework could wait, but he should probably go to sleep. He hauled himself into the top bunk and switched off the light, going to sleep almost immediately.

Morgan woke him in the morning, standing on her tiptoes and poking him in the side. "Peter?" she whispered. "May's coughing and it doesn't sound good." Peter groaned; four hours was not enough sleep. "I made us cereal for breakfast so you could sleep but you're going to be late."

"Thanks," he mumbled. As he walked out, he saw May on the couch with a cup of tea. "Are you okay Aunt May?" Peter walked over and rubbed her shoulders gently, grabbing a blanket to drape over her knees.

"It's just a small cough. No need to worry…and that goes for both of you."

"Do you think you need to see a doctor?" Telling Peter not to worry was like telling a kangaroo not to hop. It wasn't going to happen.

May pulled Peter around from behind her so that he sat next to her. "We'll just take it day by day. I'll rest, and drink water and tea, and I'll probably feel better by this afternoon"

Peter remained unconvinced, and kept shooting glances at May as he ate breakfast. He gave her a tight hug before he and Morgan left, squeezing so hard that he could feel her bones…probably too tight, in retrospect. Peter and Morgan took the train together and rode a few stops to Morgan's school. He hugged her firmly and tried to ignore the worry in his little sister's eyes.

Then he got back on the subway and rode to his own school, trying and failing to shake his own fears. After losing his mom, dad, and great uncle, Peter was fairly certain that he could sense death. It was a particular twitch of his spider sense that just felt familiar. It was this feeling that haunted him all day, leaving him unable to concentrate in his classes. It was probably macabre for a normal fourteen-year-old, but Peter wasn't normal by any means.

After the last bell rang, Peter pushed out of his desk chair and almost ran to the train station. It took forever to arrive, then another forever to get to Morgan's stop. He greeted her with a grim smile, and took her hand as they swayed in the moving subway car. The two of them walked up to the apartment and held their breaths as Peter fumbled with the key. He glanced sideways at his sister, wondering if she had the same feeling twisting in her gut that he did.

As he pushed open the door, they heard May cough, and Peter felt his chest rise in relief. There was absolutely no reason for him to worry about May dying, it was just a cough. A cough was normal. "We're home May!" he announced, sweeping into the entry way.

"Hello kids, how was school?" She was still on the couch, wrapped in her robe. Her voice sounded hoarse…or maybe that was Peter's imagination.

"It was fine," Peter said lamely. "Um, are you feeling better?"

"Well, I can't say I am. I was hoping you might run to the pharmacy for me and get some lozenges? I think that might be just what I need."

Peter had been planning on going to Stark Tower, but all thoughts of his new suit dropped from his mind. "Yes. Absolutely. Just that? Or do you need cough syrup too? Or…I don't know…like, Tylenol?"

"Just the lozenges. I think there is some cough syrup in the medicine cabinet still. Morgan, could you be a dear and check for us?" Eyes wide, Morgan nodded and slipped out of the room. May looked intently at her great-nephew. "Peter, you're scaring your sister," she said gently. "The more nervous you get, the more nervous she gets." May took his hand and held it tightly in her own. "I have a simple cough. It's nothing for you to worry about, okay?"

Peter let out a breath, feeling guilty but a little bit more reassured. "Yeah, okay."

Morgan came out of the bathroom with the cough syrup and a packet of Tylenol. "Petey we just need the lozenges," she announced. "I'll keep May company while you go." In a second, Peter felt the impact of what May said. If Peter acted like nothing was amiss, then maybe Morgan would believe it.

"Do your homework," he replied. He grabbed his house keys from the hook and flung them up in the air from under his leg, before catching they keychain behind his back, with a broad smile on his face. He winked at her as he left, closing the door on her delighted cackle.

The nearest pharmacy was closed, so Peter had to walk another six blocks to a 24 hour place. Lozenges in hand, he checked the time and groaned—he was already late to meet Mr. Stark. The roads were bustling and he didn't have his suit, so swinging wasn't an option. Instead, he pushed himself to almost a run. He burst through the apartment door to find May dozing on the couch, Morgan quietly doing her homework.

"What are we going to do for dinner?" Morgan asked quietly.

"Easy," Peter said, opening the fridge. "Um…grilled cheese? And tomato soup?" His sister nodded. "Okay. Mo, I'm running kind of late to meet with Mr. Stark. I'll make the sandwiches; can you get a bowl and heat up the soup in the microwave?"

"Sure. I know I said I wanted to come tonight to play the piano again, but I think I'll stay here…probably write some more music or something." Her eyes shifted to May, and Peter knew that his sister was still worried about their great-aunt.

"That sounds good," he agreed. He slapped the sandwiches into the hot skillet and waited impatiently. He stretched his head side to side, cracking his neck loud enough to make Morgan grimace.

"That's unnatural," she scolded.

Peter rolled his eyes at his little sister and turned back to the sandwiches. The sandwich sizzling acted like white noise for him, and he allowed his brain to relax, at least a little bit. Peter hated running late, and kept telling himself that if he ran fast enough, he wouldn't be too late. He flipped the sandwiches and caught Morgan's deep brown eyes boring into his back. "What's up?"

"Do you think May's going to die?" Morgan was always blunt; she and Peter had been through too much together to hide their feelings from each other.

Peter pressed down on the toasting sandwich, hearing the sizzle grow louder under the pressure for a second while he thought. "It's just a cold," he reassured her.

"That's not a yes or no."

He moved the pan off the heat, got two plates down, and slid the sandwiches onto each. "I mean, she's going to die someday, and it's going to be earlier than we want," he said flatly.

"But do you think it's going to be soon?"

Peter could feel his heart beating fast, but swallowed his panic when he thought of what May had said earlier. "I'm not worried," he finally said, smiling at his little sister. Morgan nodded and ate her sandwich, but she was too smart for her own good and they both knew that Peter was lying. He wolfed down his sandwich in five bites, stood up, and ruffled Morgan's hair. "Call me if anything goes wrong, okay? I can be back here in thirty minutes."

"Go, you're already late. Tell Ms. Pepper that I'll come again next week or something."

Peter nodded, swing his backpack over his shoulder, and slipped out the door. A light drizzle had started, coating Peter's face and dampening his bangs he strode urgently to the subway. He paced on the station platform, not thinking of anything specifically, but thinking of everything at once. The ride seemed like it took forever, and Peter kept berating himself for not bringing the textbook he needed to read for homework (in his defense, it was huge and definitely would have weighed him down).

He exited the subway station and walked outside into a graying twilight. He pushed through the front doors and stopped short again as he saw Tony leaning against the wall next to the elevator. "Friday told me you were coming. A little late, aren't we?"

"Yeah, like you've never been late in your life." It was meant to be funny, but came out with more heat than intended.

"Easy, kid. I was kidding."

Peter rubbed his brow, "Yeah, sorry. Just a long day. Hey, I have this calculus problem—"

"Say no more!" Tony boomed, steering Peter towards the elevator. "The lab awaits!"