The main foyer of the Sanctum Sanctorum was a vast open space, floored with a mosaic of dark wood and patches of colorful tile. Mismatched doors against either wall led to what Felicia presumed were other wings and opposite the front doors were two sets of wide, sweeping staircases that led to the upper floor.
In the very center of the entrance hall was some weird, twisted metal structure that some people might have considered as an abstract art piece. In Felicia's opinion though, the curling steel décor was ugly and gave off bad vibes. She had only stepped foot in the Sanctum a handful of times and had never been given a proper tour. She doubted she would be offered one anytime soon either.
Frankly, Felicia was pleased that America Chavez let her in the building at all.
Chavez had pulled the door open just wide enough to tug Felicia inside, before shutting the door roughly again. As soon as the ambient buzz of the city outside was cut off, she wheeled on her.
"You think you can just show up here whenever you like and request an audience with the Sorcerer Supreme?" She hissed, voice carrying across the vast, empty hall. "Who do you think you are?"
"A superhero." Felicia answered dryly, giving Chavez a once over. "Or at least superhero-adjacent. Nice pajamas."
She was wearing purple knit pants and a worn t-shirt with some inscrutable jagged logo for a metal band Felicia didn't know. Chavez ignored the comment.
"Oh yes, of course, you superheroes." She said scornfully. "You and Spider-Man. I suppose mincing around in a skin-tight suit at night and smashing up buildings could be considered heroics... from a certain point of view."
"Is the Sorcerer Supreme here or not?"
"No, he isn't, as you very well know."
This news was like a small electric shock.
"Seriously?" Felicia asked. "He and all the other wizard's aren't back yet?"
She had never met this Sorcerer Supreme, but she had been given the rundown on him before: all-power sorcerer, master of the mystic arts, near-infinite knowledge on all things otherworldly and occult – the exact kind of person that she wanted to talk to at the moment.
Chavez was right though, months ago, the very first time Felicia had stepped into the Sanctum, she had been explicitly told that the head honcho was gone, along with the majority of his wizardly followers.
"The Sorcerer Supreme has not returned from his voyage." Chavez reiterated, as if explaining something very simple to someone extremely stupid. "Neither have any of the other order members. There's no one here except for me and-"
With impeccable timing, a door on the upper floor opened, the sound silencing them both. They turned to look at the balcony above them, where soft footsteps proceeded the appearance of a stout, bald man, bleary-eyed and cinching a rust-colored robe tightly over his round belly.
"Master Wong." Chavez bowed her head quickly. "Apologies if I woke you, I was just- I mean, we have a..." Her eyes flicked to Felicia. "a visitor, who I was just about to show the door."
"Miss Hardy." Wong said, his eyes finding Felicia's. "What are you doing here at this hour? Is there trouble?"
Doing her best not to feel smug about the scowl that fell across Chavez's face, Felicia stepped forward and nodded up at Wong.
"Yeah, I think that's one way to describe it. Something happened tonight. Spider-Man and I fought a new super-villain." She explained. "And I think it's… another one. You know, like… like me."
With slow fingers, she reached to her collar and pulled her necklace out by the chain. The diamond-shaped charm, midnight black, and inscribed with the symbol of the cat, fell loose against her jacket. Felicia didn't miss the way Wong's eyes widened slightly, nor the way Chavez stared at the pendant with a reluctant interest.
"Let's continue this conversation in the parlor." Wong said, turning to descend the stairs and waving them towards one of the side doors.
The parlor room was dimly lit, and quite cozy, with a wine-red carpet and matching tapestries that hung besides wide and overflowing bookshelves. A round table in the middle of the room was surrounded by four cushy armchairs and when Felicia entered a pace or two behind Wong, she saw that three steaming cups of tea were already waiting on saucers next to containers of milk and sugar.
She didn't want to sit in the soft chairs and drink magic tea though (a sentiment she apparently shared with Chavez), but regardless, they all sat as Wong directed.
"Let's start from the beginning." He said, heaping two teaspoons of sugar into his cup.
Felicia did as he asked, recounting how she and Spider-Man had followed the directions of a police dispatch to Vermin. She described the villain's costume in explicit detail: his brown suit, the mask, the tail, how he had infected Spider-Man and the police with some kind poison gas, and how he was definitely still out there infecting more people – if his mission statement that she'd heard was to be believed.
Wong was particularly interested in how Felicia's described Vermin's powers.
"How did Spider-Man and the others react to the poison? What were their symptoms?"
"Vomiting, for one." Felicia counted on her fingers. "Well, Spider-Man didn't throw up, but it definitely looked like he wanted to. The cops were. Besides that there was lots of coughing and general weakness. I thought that Spider-Man was going to collapse, but he wouldn't leave until he helped everyone." It was so typical of him, it made her chest ache. "I didn't get too close to any of them though, so I think I'm not sick."
"But you might be." Chavez pointed out. "Very considerate of you to drop in then."
Felicia ignored her.
"Anyways, Vermin has a costume like mine." She touched the pendant around her neck again. "So that probably means he has one of these too, right?"
"It's certainly possible." Wong mused, reclining in his chair. He was quiet for a moment, then turned to his apprentice. "What do you think, America?"
Besides the recent remark at Felicia's expense, Chavez hadn't spoken since they'd sat down. She hadn't touched her tea either. At Wong's question, she looked down and settled her eyes low on her lap, mouth forming a thin line as she thought. Eventually, she looked up and stared hard at Felicia.
A strange tingling sensation started in Felicia's temples and she did not like the scrutinizing stare being leveled at her. It felt like she was being x-rayed.
She opened her mouth, but the words caught in her throat as a series of pictures suddenly came to mind, rising like ships breaching waves. She could see Spider-Man diving from the rooftop to land on the street below. He shielded the police with his own body, taking a direct hit in their place. She could see Vermin too, his tail lashing as he stalked through the brownish smog, with his teeth bared and his gleaming, yellow eyes shining like beacons from the mask that covered his brows.
The mental images faded and before Felicia could say or do anything, Chavez was moving to stand.
"I'll be back." She climbed from her chair and padded away on slippered feet, leaving Felicia and Wong alone in the parlor.
Felicia gave him a quizzical look, but Wong merely smiled at her and drank his tea patiently. They waited for several minutes, with only the ticking of a large wall clock breaking the silence. When Chavez finally returned, she was carrying a flat box of dark wood, and she motioned for Felicia to clear a space on the table for her to set it down.
Odd runes organized in a spiral design decorated the box's surface and although it looked quite solid, Chavez set it down as if it were made of glass. She waved her fingers over the box in a complicated pattern and bluish sparks danced over the metal clasps that held it closed. Gently, she opened it, unfolding the box on silent hinges so that it lay flat.
Felicia was reminded of one of those large travel chess sets. Instead of chess pieces though, the inside of the box was lined with small, rectangular compartments. Most of were empty, save for a select few.
Immediately, Felicia recognized a large, square pendant set into one – the color of pewter, and marked with the symbol of the Rhino.
She still had the occasional nightmare about the massive, rampaging monstrosity that had taken to wearing that particular necklace. Black Cat and Spider-Man's fight with the Rhino was almost as fresh in Felicia's memory as their recent tussle with Vermin, and for some reason that thought was almost comforting.
Almost.
As poorly as things had gone that night with Vermin, nothing could compare to their disaterous showdown with Rhino. That said, Felicia did think they deserved a little slack on that one. She and Spider-Man had just barely met then. It was around the time when she first became Black Cat, and when she'd been introduced to Wong, America Chavez, and the Sanctum…
"Don't get any ideas." Chavez warned, catching the way Felicia's eye's lingered on the Rhino's charm. "These," She gestured at the box's contents. "Are staying right where they are."
"Fine by me." Felicia shrugged, silently willing her pounding heart to return to a normal rhythm.
By bringing out this case, Chavez was confirming her theory: Vermin truly was yet another super-villain powered by an animal -themed crest, just like the Rhino – another nightmare loose in the city.
The thought was chilling and the implications so mind-consuming she almost missed what Chavez was saying next.
"There are references to a crest of the Rat in some of the grimoires." Chavez was explaining, as she idly fingered one of the empty compartments in her case. "Past sorcerers did their best to record its powers and how it was used. It's been well over five hundred years since it was last rumored to be seen though."
"But its here now and Vermin has it." Felicia replied. "How is this possible? You told me once that crests were rare, how can Vermin show up with one just months after the Rhino? After me?"
"I'm not sure." Chavez admitted, a bitter edge to her voice. "From what I've studied these things almost have a mind of their own."
"Explain." Felicia urged and then, deciding it was best to play nice, added "Please."
When she'd requested information in the past, Chavez had almost relished in turning her down, only sharing the bare minimum. Now though, the young sorcerer seemed to be in the mood to share and was strangely contemplative as she weighed her next words.
"These crests aren't sentient or anything like that," She began, "but they can be almost impossible to track down if they don't want to be found. Even then, its not as if anyone could wear a crest and have powers. You have to be a good match. They chose who gets to wear them... and how that person uses them."
Felicia resisted to urge to touch her own crest again at those words. She didn't entirely buy into the idea that these things chose their wearers, but she didn't argue with America Chavez, not when she was on a roll like this.
"The crests chose how they're used..." Felicia repeated slowly. "So... the rat crest is controlling Vermin, and making him attack people and make them sick-"
"No, not controlling him. It doesn't work like that. I'm sure this crest isn't making Vermin do anything he doesn't want to do already. It's more like an influence. The mind of the rat meshing with his human mind. I mean, you've probably felt something from using the cat…"
Felicia had felt many somethings, but she hadn't ever given it any serious thought. Leaping over the streets at night, with Spider-Man at her side, was well-worth the subtle side effects of her cat crest. So what if she liked her meat a little more on the rare-side and found herself momentarily distracted by quick-moving objects, or the feathery tassels on her roommate's jacket, or the odd piece of string.
So long as she didn't start getting the urge to use a litter tray, she could deal.
"The influence will only get stronger the longer Vermin uses it too." Chavez continued, sinking heavily into her armchair again. Her eyes never left the crest box and she when spoke again, it was as if Felicia wasn't there anymore. "The grimoire does say that the rat crest is one of the most dangerous, he could infect the whole city with a plague in a matter of days… The Sorcerer Supreme would never let that happen. Everyone in the order has a job to do and protecting the crests is mine… I need to find him."
"Find him. Do you mean find Vermin?" Felicia leaned forward in her seat so quickly Chavez flinched. "Could you track him? And take me and Spider-Man to him? You tracked me by my crest before, remember?"
"Yeah, I remember." Her gaze was decidedly cool when she turned it on Felicia. "But you seem to have forgotten something - that crest that you wear isn't yours. You stole it." She sneered. "It doesn't belong to you any more than the rat crest does to Vermin. I won't be taking you or Spider-Man anywhere, ever."
And just like that 'playing nice' was over and done.
"Why are you like this?" Felicia sighed and rubbed at her tired eyes. "Listen, America, I fought Vermin. He'd tear you to pieces in a heartbeat, trust me on that. You need us."
"Because you and your superhero friend did such a good job fighting Vermin yourselves, right?"
"We didn't know- I mean, he caught us by surprise! If Spider-Man hadn't gotten sick, then we would have-"
"Good point!" Chavez interrupted with a clap of her hands. "What makes you think Spider-Man is up to fighting anyone at all? He's still sick, and even if he wasn't, how do you know his bleeding heart won't give Vermin the upper-hand again?"
"You-" Felicia's retort caught in her throat. When she'd been telling her story, she'd been vague about how Spider-Man had been infected. There was no way Chavez could have known that Spider-Man took that hit for DeWolff. "You don't know what you're talking about!"
"I know enough. You and him did more harm than good tonight."
"You wouldn't even know about Vermin if it wasn't for us!" A fire had risen up the back of her neck to settle in the tips of her ears and Felicia was shouting now. "And, while we're pointing fingers, none of this would even be a problem if you did your job and kept the crests safe, am I right?! Look at this box!" She reached out and grabbed the edge of Chavez's case, rattling it against the table. "It's empty! How many more of these things are out there right now?"
In an instant, Chavez was on her feet, ripping the box across the table and out of Felicia's grip.
"I can think of one crest I can add to it right now!" She snarled, glaring at the chain around Felicia's neck.
Suddenly, Felicia was standing too.
"Come and take it then!"
This had been coming for a while, ever since the two had met. Felicia didn't know what America Chavez's baggage was and she didn't care. She glared daggers at her from across the table, a hiss in the back of her throat, and counted the double heartbeats that pounded at her chest. She was exhausted and hungry, but she probably had enough in her for a quick transformation, just long enough to fold the dickish little sorceress into a pretzel...
"America. Miss Hardy." Wong spoke for the first time in a while and both Felicia and Chavez jumped at the sound of his voice. "Please sit down. Your teas are getting cold."
With a single finger, he reached out and tapped the rim of each of their cups. Vaguely, Felicia was aware that the frigid liquid was suddenly steaming once more, but she didn't dare take her eyes off Chavez. For a moment, both of them were rooted where they stood, their heated words hanging heavy between them, as suffocating as Vermin's poison smog.
But then Chavez released a breath and sat back in her chair. Felicia remained standing, but Wong didn't seem to mind.
"No one is taking anything from anyone." He began gently. "We have an agreement with Miss Hardy, don't we, America? She may keep the crest of the cat so long as she uses it for the greater good." His eyes were warm when he looked at her. "And she has proven herself more than up to the task. Are we understood?"
Chavez looked as if she was being made to swallow garbage dipped in poison, and she let her fellow sorcerer's question hang for a second as she scowled at Felicia.
Eventually though, she gave a small, stiff nod.
"Good." Wong seemed pleased. "To the matter at hand then. Are you able to track Vermin, America?"
Ignoring her tea, Chavez gently rested her box of crests back on the table, seemingly poised to pull it away again in Felicia tried anything. She deftly flipped it closed and and turned it over so the bottom faced up, revealing a large circular sigil. While her face was smooth and almost unreadable, Felicia didn't miss the way her fingers trembled slightly as she waved another complex series of movements over the painted wood.
The surface of the box warped and parted, opening to reveal a hidden compartment. Chavez reached inside and retrieved a circular object about the size of her palm.
"I can track him with this. It's a compass that points crests." She explained, speaking to her hands as she turned the device over and over. "It'll lead me to Vermin, but other crests in the vicinity will interfere with it. So I have to go alone."
Felicia didn't say anything. Wong, other other hand, was impressed.
"Very good, America." He leaned forward to inspect the empty hole left in the crest box. "I wasn't aware of this compass. You're far more versed in the secrets of the animal crests than me. The Sorcerer Supreme was right to leave you in charge of safe-guarding them."
"I- I just… Thank you, master." Chavez turned a little pink, eyes still low. "Everyone in the order has a job to do." She refrained.
"Too true. While you are gone, I will research what our predecessors wrote on the type of infection the rat crest is capable of spreading. If the grimoires can give clues to its nature, perhaps there is a way to protect you both from its effects." Wong stroked his thin mustache with two fingers, thinking, then turned in his chair to face Chavez fully. "If you must go alone, America, then you are not to take any unnecessary risks, do you understand? Find where Vermin is hiding and report back to me. We will plan our next course of action from there."
"Understood." Standing, Chavez tucked the box of crests under her arm and clutched the compass to her chest with her other hand. "I'll go prepare and leave as soon as I'm ready. Good night, master."
"Good night."
Chavez left without a second glance at Felicia, who had yet to move so much as an inch from where she was standing. Once they were alone, however, she turned to Wong.
"What is her problem?" She demanded, not caring if she came across rudely.
"In the absence of the Sorcerer Supreme and the rest of the order, America and I alone are left to watch over the Sanctum." Wong rose from his chair and crossed to nearest bookshelf. As he started pulling heavy tomes from their homes, she thought she heard him add quietly: "As well as this realm…"
He plucked several books free as he made his way along the shelf, stacking them one by one at his side, where they floated as if on an invisible cart.
"She is under a lot of pressure." He continued. "As young as she is, she has been given a tremendous responsibility."
"No excuse to be an asshole." Felicia muttered under her breath. Then, louder, she asked a question that had been itching at her for a while. "Where is the Sorcerer Supreme anyways?"
"That is… a difficult question to answer." Wong admitted, returning to the table and depositing his books there with a wave of his hand. "The best answer I can give is that he is very far away and dealing with a problem so large it necessitated taking near the entire order with him."
"So he's like in outer space fighting elder gods or something like that."
"Something like that." He gave a wry smile.
Felicia rolled her eyes.
"Okay. Great. Well, in that case, you'll need all the help you can get and I won't be able to sleep while Vermin is out there. So… what do you need? How can I help?" She peered over Wong's shoulder as he opened his first book, but the text wasn't in any language she could recognize, let alone read.
"You must be drained from your transformation earlier tonight." Wong started flipping through the book quickly. "Go home and rest, Miss Hardy."
"But I-"
"You need rest." He insisted. "And you would also do well to check on your companion Spider-Man too. When America returns with Vermin's location, I suspect both of you will be needed to stop him."
Felicia felt any icy hand grip her heart. Of course, Spider-Man was out there, no doubt still very sick and maybe growing worse every second. After aiding the police, he could be collapsed in a gutter somewhere. Or maybe another police squad had shown up and taken him into custody. He was friendly with a lot of cops by necessity, but that was a fairly recent development. She remembered the early headlines when he first started his heroics, back when they branded him an illegal vigilante and shot at him just as much as they did the villains he was fighting. Even now, after all he'd done for the city, would they take advantage of him in his weakened state?
I never should have left him alone.
As if he'd read her mind, Wong looked up from his reading and met her gaze with soft eyes.
"Go home and sleep." He urged again. "First thing in the morning, you can go out and find him. You'll feel much better and be more help after you've rested. You should also return here tomorrow night. By then, I should hopefully have found some useful information. Agreed?"
"Yeah… Okay, sure." Felicia took a deep breath, calming herself. "Sorry for- uh, not drinking your tea. I'm more of a coffee person."
"Duly noted." Stepping away from the table, he moved to place a gentle hand on her shoulder. "Thank you for coming and telling us about Vermin. You did the right thing."
The weight of his wide hand on her shoulder sent pens and needles down her arm, but she didn't shrug him off. A sudden thought had occurred to her.
"Uh, Wong – I mean, Master Wong, do you know what my crest does?" She asked.
He blinked at her.
"What do you mean?"
"I mean, what kind of power does it have? I know it makes me stronger and faster, just like Vermin, but he has those poison powers too. I don't have anything like that… as far as I know."
Wong thought for a moment, taking his hand off her arm to stroke at his mustache yet again.
"This may be question better suited for America." He reasoned. She must have made a sour expression then, because he gave another small smile, then continued. "But from what I know, every crest has something that makes it special, a power all its own."
"And you wouldn't know how to… I don't know, activate mine or whatever?" In the year she'd been Black Cat, Felicia had felt or experienced nothing that would indicate what her crest did.
"No, I don't. And I know that isn't the answer you're looking for, but I'll tell you this," His voice took on a serious tone. "You don't have to try and it figure it out alone. We are here to help. When the time comes, we can figure out how your power works together. How does that sound?"
Felicia didn't quite believe him, so she said nothing, only nodding when Wong offered to see her to the front door.
The first thing he felt on waking up was a hard, impossibly cold surface being pressed against his face. The feel of it against his cheek sent shivers down his spine that, once started, didn't stop and soon he was trembling where he lay, senses slowly coming online one by one.
He was laying down, somewhere dark and quiet.
He wasn't wearing his mask.
Peter jerked so fast, hand flying up to paw at his naked cheek with bare fingers, that his vision swam and blurred. A wave of nausea came so strong that he actually rolled and vomited, heaving up very little from his empty stomach, but still spraying spittle onto tiles already coated with sick.
He curled on himself and pressed his face back into the floor, into an open space that was clear of vomit, but soon became slick with the sweat running like water from his pores.
I know this floor.
With supreme effort, he willed his eyes to open.
It was hard to see because the bathroom lights were off and there were dark patches on the edge of his vision that were growing larger each passing moment, as if he was falling backwards into a deep pit. He took in the blue shower curtain, the mismatched hand towels by the cluttered sink, and the clock on the wall—an ugly thing shaped like the wheel of a ship, something May had brought from their home in Queens, something Peter's uncle must have liked before…
2:15 a.m. Peter read on the clock, just before his eyes drifted closed once more.
He had just enough time to hope he'd at least locked the bathroom door so May wouldn't find him, before the fever took him and he passed out again.
Next time he woke, the sun was up.
Dull rays shone through the small frosted glass window over the toilet, directly into his face. It wasn't the light that had roused him from sleep though. Someone was knocking on the bathroom door.
"Peter?" May sounded worried. "You've been in there a long time. Are you alright?"
No, was the correct answer. Or at least, that's what anyone laying face down in a puddle of their own bodily fluids should say. However, as he peeled himself off the floor to sit propped against the bathroom cabinet, he realized that the room was no longer spinning and that the horrible, tremor-inducing fever was gone.
He tried to call to May, but his throat was a desert and his voice was little more than a sorry croak. He heard May rattling the doorknob, trying to get to him, and Peter quickly climbed to his feet so he could take some long drinks from the bathroom sink.
"I- I'm fine!" He left the faucet running, hoping the sound covered the rough edges of his voice. "I'm fine. I just… don't think that casserole last night is agreeing with me."
"Oh." May didn't leave, but at least she wasn't trying to force the door anymore. "Were you in here all night?"
"No- No, just the last hour or so."
"Do you think you'll be much longer? They need all hands at the hospital this morning and I was hoping I could shower."
"Uh," Peter looked at the mess on the floor. Crumpled in the corner was the top-half of his suit and his mask, which he must have shucked sometime in the night. "Yeah, I think so. I'm sorry."
"Well... alrighty then." The floorboards on the other side of the door creaked as May shifted where she stood and Peter thought for sure she was going to insist on coming in, but she just sighed. "Eat mild today and make sure you hydrate. Don't get too close to anyone if you decide to go to school too. I think there's a bug going around."
"You've got that right." He muttered.
"What did you say?"
"Oh, nothing!"
Peter wished May good luck at work, thanked the great spider in the sky that be that she didn't press him further, and waited with baited breath as she collected her things and laced her sneakers in the hall. Only when the apartment door closed behind her and the sound of her footsteps faded away outside, did he relax slightly.
His reflection in the mirror wasn't a pleasant sight. His face was pale as a sheet, dried sweat and drool crusted his cheeks, and purplish rings hung from each eye. The worst part though, was the massive yellowing bruise that wrapped around his left side, where Vermin's tail had struck him. The skin over his ribs was swollen and tender and he felt a twinge of pain with every deep breath.
He'd had worse injures before though. Despite it all, he'd survived the night, survived Vermin's toxins, and woken up only mildly worse for wear.
The spider DNA, interwoven with his own, had to be the reason he wasn't still a wet, shivering mess on the floor. His powers had flushed the sickness from his body. Peter was sure of it.
Ripping open the cabinet under the sink, he fished out disinfectant wipes and sponges and a bottle of bleach. He wiped down every surface in the bathroom, mopped the floor, and silently crept out in the hall – even knowing that May was long gone – to disinfect the floor out there as well, cleaning a trail back to his bedroom. He found the window in his room open wide, no doubt exactly how he'd left it after stumbling inside earlier.
It was only when he stood under the shower a few minutes later, the piping hot water bringing him back to life, that he started to recall the events of the previous night. After Black Cat had left, he remembered leaping down from the roof to check on DeWolff and the rest of the infected police. He'd pulled them one or two at a time to a safe distance, away from where Vermin's poison fog was festering in the air, and then he'd stood sentinel until more police and ambulances had eventually arrived.
He hadn't stuck around. He didn't have the energy or the time to make nice with law enforcement. In almost any other situation, he would have made the effort, but he was truly dead on his feet.
As it was, he was certain the only reason he'd made it home was muscle memory. He could only pray there wasn't amateur cell phone footage of him circulating with him bouncing of walls and flailing through the sky as he made his way home on autopilot. The fever had been it's strongest then and as a result entire patches of his memory were dark and empty.
Peter checked his temperature after he got out of the shower, but the reading came back normal, blessedly healthy. The clock on the other hand, told him that he was going to be horribly late for class, but he couldn't muster the usual panic. He couldn't remember the last time he'd been on time for anything that wasn't Spider-Man related anyways.
Cat.
They was supposed to have met up at 8 a.m., he'd sworn to her that they would, but that time had come and gone. She was going to be pissed next time he saw her, he knew that. Hell, he'd be upset too if the situation was reversed: if it was her who'd taken that hit and pushed him away, only to disappear into the night, not knowing if she was going to be okay.
He had no way to contact her though, no way to let her know that he was better. At least, not until they met up at the next crisis or on a night-time patrol.
Tonight. He promised. I'll find her tonight, and then we'll track down Vermin together.
Resolved to make things up to Black Cat later, he dressed quickly and took two bagels from the kitchen on his way out. He ripped into them savagely as he walked to campus, not caring that they were plain and a little stale, and wishing he had time to get coffee. He wondered a little guiltily if he should even be attempting to go to class when he had been so sick oh so recently, but he selfishly reasoned that he really did feel better and, besides, Professor Marconi was expecting their project proposal today.
Just because he'd let Black Cat down didn't mean he had to be a no-show on Felicia too.
The class was full with idle chatter when Peter entered, an apology for Professor Marconi already on his tongue. He was surprised to see that she wasn't lecturing from her stool at the front of class though. In fact, Marconi wasn't there at all.
Harry caught Peter's eye and he waved him over to the table he shared with Flash Thompson.
"Holy hell, what happened to you?" Harry asked.
"Huh?"
"You look like shit, man. Are you okay?"
"I… Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine." Peter adjusted his glasses on his nose, as if the frames could hide the dark circles under his eyes. He really wished he'd stopped for coffee or maybe thought to borrow some of May's concealer. He had practice hiding bruises. "I just had a long night."
"A long night with Felicia?"
Flash had been consulting his phone seriously, wide mouth slightly agape while he texted, but he looked up sharply at Harry's question.
"Whoa, hold up." His eyes were wide. "You and Felicia?"
"No, and no." Peter hushed them both, eyes flicking to where Felicia currently sat alone at their lab table. "I mean, she came over, but she wasn't at my apartment long. Where's Professor Marconi?'
"Damn, Parker. I didn't think you had it in you," Flash continued, ignoring his question. "Especially with her. I had her in a class last semester and she never talked to anyone, ever. Total ice queen."
"Peter's got game." Harry conceded, grinning. "Well… I definitely helped, but still, my boy's all grown up."
"She's just my lab partner." Peter tried. "She came over for the project-"
"Hell yeah, I know that play! The ol' homework and chill." Flash nodded sagely. "You start talking about chemistry, but you end up studying anatomy instead."
Both Peter and Harry stared at Flash.
"What?" He demanded after a moment on silence passed. "I know stuff about science. At least when it matters."
"I don't believe it." Harry held his head in his hands. "Peter's getting with girls and Flash is making metaphors. What universe is this?"
"I'm going to walk away now." Peter turned on his heel, but Harry lunged and grabbed his sleeve.
"Come on, man. We're just kidding. We don't have to talk about Felicia." He said quickly. "Sorry for giving you a hard time, but we do need your help. We have no idea what to do for our project."
"What are you talking about? I told you my idea." Flash argued.
"Pete, we have no idea what to do for our project." Harry said again, voice firm and eyes pleading. "You gotta help us or else Marconi will rip us a new one for sure."
"Where even is Professor Marconi?" Peter asked again.
"Didn't you see the email from the TA? She's out sick, but she wants us to take this class to plan our proposal so we can present it to her on Monday. I know you've got a ton of ideas in that big brain of yours, so if you have any-"
"She's sick?" Peter interrupted.
"Yeah, apparently she checked into the hospital early this morning. Must be pretty rough." Harry explained. "But anyways, if you can help us out…"
Peter rattled off a couple of his project ideas and excused himself quickly as Harry and Flash began to bicker among themselves. As he finally made his way to his seat, he fished his phone from his pocket and checked his email. Sure enough, Professor Marconi's teaching assistant had sent a message in the early morning informing the class that their teacher was in the hospital, sick.
It couldn't be a coincidence. Vermin's disease must be spreading, and fast. All it would have took was for one sick cop, one infected person, to brush off medical help and stumble onto a city bus, or the train, and the plague could be all over the city in a matter of hours.
Peter suddenly felt stupid for coming to school. What if there were germs still clinging to his skin, even after his extended shower? Had he disinfected May's apartment thoroughly enough? Was Vermin out there making more people tremble with fever and sickness while he was putzing around with Harry and Flash?
"Hey." Felicia's voice snapped him back to the present like a rubber band. He was standing over their table. "You alright?
"I was just… reading Marconi's email." Peter said dumbly and he sank heavily into his chair. "I hope she's going to be okay." The thought of Professor Marconi tossing and turning in a hospital bed, wracked with Vermin's malady just as he had been, made his throat feel tight.
Felicia hummed in agreement. She tapped her fingernails, long and painted black, absentmindedly against the largest cup of to-go coffee Peter had ever seen. She was wearing a crumpled, hooded sweatshirt and a deep frown, and she looked about as miserable as Peter suddenly felt.
"Are… are you okay?" He asked. She didn't answer right away, but kept her eyes low on her cup, and Peter was talking again before he could stop himself. "You know you could go home if you wanted. I, er- I just mean, you and I already have our project proposal ready…. So there's nothing really to discuss until Monday. Un- unless you wanted to change projects, of course. The aspirin idea I had was just my first idea, and on second thought, it's a little lame, so if you've thought of something else-"
"Peter, relax."
He shut his mouth.
"Your idea is good." Felicia continued. "And, I'm fine."
"Oh, okay. Good."
A few seconds passed and Peter was sure she wouldn't say anything else until the class period ended, but she surprised him.
"Why are you still here?" She asked.
"Eh, I dunno." He shrugged. "I have a class right after this one, so kind of pointless to go anywhere else."
She hummed again, nodding, and Peter guessed her situation was similar.
He did wonder though if maybe he should use the free time to take to the streets as Spider-Man, maybe start getting leads on Vermin or meet up with Black Cat. He'd packed a spare suit in his bag. He could leave right now and change. There was nothing stopping him.
Nothing, save for the throbbing pain in his side, the overwhelming desire to rest his head on the lab table and sleep, and of course: the miserable look on Felicia's face; her black clouds that hung overhead and made him want to pester her until she opened up and told him what was bothering her.
He didn't say anything though. Instead, he thought of what Flash had said earlier, how Felicia had spent a whole semester in one of his classes talking to no one. Now that he thought about, he couldn't remember seeing her interact with anyone else from their Physics class last semester either.
He thought of what Felicia had said the previous night when they were in his bedroom, how she didn't get embarrassed, how the little things didn't bother her. If that were all true, then what was bothering her now?
And what did Peter know really know about her?
A voice that sounded suspiciously like May spoke to him in his head:
If you truly liked her, the voice said, if you really want to be her friend, then whatever you do next is important.
"Felicia," He began, turning towards her. She looked at him, waiting. "Do you… do you, uh – want to talk or do you just want to sit and be quiet for a while?"
She blinked at him.
"What?"
"Just- you know, since we're both here and not going anywhere, whatever you wanted to do right now we could do it." He said, wishing he had to power to measure his words around her, but pressing forward regardless. "It was pretty scary to read Professor Marconi was in the hospital, and I'm sure she'll be okay, but… As your lab partner I feel like it's my job to check in with you. We could talk about Marconi if you wanted. Or anything else. Or we could just sit and… and enjoy the silence."
He ended awkwardly, but Felicia gave a small, dry laugh and Peter counted that as a win.
"I haven't been talking very much already." She said.
"And that's totally fine." He replied, taking that as her answer. Peter relaxed in his chair, settling in to spend the rest of class in comfortable silence-
"I have this… friend." Felicia said, softly, but still audible to Peter. "He's sick too, probably like Marconi. Maybe worse."
Peter waited, but when she didn't continue he asked: "Is he going to be okay?"
"I don't know." She folded her arms around herself. "I haven't been able to get in touch with him. The last time I saw him too, he… looked really bad."
"I'm sorry, Felicia." Peter meant it too. He couldn't image how he'd feel if Harry or May or Black Cat were as sick as Marconi no doubt was, or how he had been. "If you want, you and I could go check on him." He offered. "Maybe not visit him in person if he's really sick, but if he's checked into a hospital then maybe we could get an update."
"I wouldn't know where to start looking for him." Felicia explained bitterly. "Which, I know, doesn't make much sense, but it's just how it is. All I know is that he's sick and he didn't meet me like he said he would, which maybe in hindsight was an unreasonable request, but I just don't know when I'll see him again and… it just sucks."
Peter could relate, and although he wanted to blame this guy – whoever he was – for making Felicia worry, he couldn't. He understood them, because that's how things were with him and Black Cat too.
And Felicia was right, it did suck.
"So here I am," She continued unprompted, gesturing at the blank table in front of them "Just sitting in class because I don't know what else to do."
"My aunt always says when you've got nothing better to do, you should take a nap." Peter said without thinking. Felicia had bruises under her eyes too and he wondered if she also had a long night, fretting over her missing friend. "Because according to her, you can never get enough sleep!"
"Your aunt is a smart lady."
"That she is."
"And you should be taking her advice yourself." Felicia smirked. "I'm sorry, Peter, but you look like a zombie. I thought you said you were going to take a nap last night."
"Plans change." He shrugged, cringing at the memory, and thought of a better excuse. "I wanted to get a jump start on our project, so I did some research."
"Such a model student." Felicia smiled again and Peter felt like he was melting.
He was thinking of what to say next when suddenly Harry was at their table.
"Hey, did you guys get the alert just now?" He asked, leaning forward on his crutches. "It should have gone to your email. They're shutting down the campus."
"I- what?" Peter didn't know what Harry was saying and why he had to show up now of all possible times.
"Take a look, dude. I'm serious."
Both Peter and Felicia pulled out their phones and, sure enough, there was a new email from the Dean's office. Out of concern for a rapidly developing situation, a pandemic, the ESU campus was to be closed until further notice. Peter felt like he'd been punched in the gut, as if the conversation he was just having with Felicia, sobering as it was, had been a daydream and now reality was crashing back in.
"Everyone's leaving." Harry said, and again he was right - students all around them were filing towards the door.
"How is this possible?" Felicia's jaw was tight, her eyes wide. "How could it have spread so fast?"
"It's all over social media too." A passing student Peter knew, Liz, had overhead and she stopped to show them her phone. "The hospitals are filling up and EMS is getting calls nonstop. People are saying it's some kind of attack."
"Like a super-villain?" Harry asked, a little too eagerly. He started checking his own phone, no doubt looking for any new posts under the various hero-related tags Peter knew he followed. Liz eyed him critically before turning on her heel to leave, but Harry didn't notice. "Oh and before I forget, Pete. My dad's secretary texted me and said that Connors can't have us in his lab today. He's being pulled in as part of Oscorp's response to all this."
"They're having him do research on the disease?" Peter asked.
"Sounds like it. You know my dad. He's holding a press conference in a little bit too. I bet he's going to announce that they'll have a cure for this thing out by the end of the week."
No doubt with an Oscorp logo and an Oscorp price tag. Peter thought.
"Yeah, true." He said instead. "But if anyone could develop a cure, Doctor Connors could."
"Wait, what are you two talking about?" Felicia interjected. She scooted closer to them on her stool. "A cure? What cure? Who's Doctor Connors?"
Peter and Harry exchanged a look, both taken aback by Felicia's sudden, intense interest in the matter.
"Doctor Connors is the head scientist in my dad's bio lab." Harry explained. "Peter and I help out there sometimes in the evenings."
"Help out, what do you mean 'help out'?"
"Like, I dunno." Harry shifted uncomfortable under her questioning. "Whatever he needs, lab stuff, science stuff. I just do it so my dad stays off my back. Peter understands it more than I do"
Felicia whipped her head around to look at Peter and he flushed under her scrutiny. She was staring at him, waiting for him to explain, and despite how nice it felt to hold her attention so raptly, he knew the real reason why she was so interested: her sick friend.
"We take care of small stuff around the lab so Doctor Connors can work his magic." Peter said. "We don't really help that much. Sometimes he does let me try my hand at separating proteins and stuff, but nothing too serious. Mostly we just stay out of his way."
Felicia chewed her lip and continued to stare at him long after he'd stopped talking. Peter got the sense that she wanted to ask more, but was holding back – that maybe she was disappointed he didn't have more of an active role or insight into Oscorp's lab.
"Listen," He continued, in what he hoped was a reassuring tone. "Doctor Connors is the smartest man I know. If Oscorp really is stepping up to research this new disease and put together a cure, then there's no one better-suited to the job than Connors. And if me or Harry get any news from him about it, you'll be one of the first to know. I promise."
That seemed to placate her, at least a little bit. Felicia sat back in her chair, nodding to acknowledge that she'd heard his words, but not meeting Peter's eyes.
"I guess I better get going." She said eventually, standing and grabbing her bag. "Maybe I'll take that nap after all."
"I think that'd be a good idea." Peter agreed, smiling up at her.
Felicia paused, finally meeting his gaze again, and then abruptly leaned over again and placed her extremely large coffee on the table in front of him.
"Here, you look like you need this more than I do." She said. Then, at Peter's wide eyes, she added. "Don't worry, I'm not sick, and I barely took a sip. So, have at it."
And with a small wave, she departed, leaving Harry alone with a dumbstruck Peter.
"Please don't be weird about this." Harry admonished, warily eyeing Felicia's abandoned cup. "It's just coffee, and I wouldn't drink that if I were you. We were literally just talking about how there's a pandemic going around."
Peter stood as well, shouldered his bag, and then took the coffee gingerly.
"I'm totally normal about this, and you heard her. She's not sick."
The cup was warm in his hands and the paper lid had just the barest hint of residual moisture, from where her lips had touched it.
Yes, Peter was completely, a hundred percent casual about the whole thing. Regardless, he waited until Harry turned his back before taking his first sip of delicious, delicious coffee.
