absolute zero
Something important. If only he could remember what said-‘something-important’ is. It takes Pete a good minute or two to rack his brains to try and recall, his eyes still threatening to close with sleep as he blinks at his phone, cursing at his past self for titling the alarm so descriptively as ‘help Miles with thing’. He pushes to sit up, groggy and still not entirely convinced this isn’t all a dream, the ghost of the already-muted alarm still ringing in his ears.
Peter has never really been one for cursing, but a billion expletives come to mind as he comes to terms with the fact he isn’t dreaming and he really does have to force himself out of bed to get ready. The ‘thing’ he’s supposed to be helping out Miles with becomes clearer as he manages to maneuver himself upright, sleep finally beginning to loosen its grasp.
For the past several weeks, Miles has been following various leads linking local crime activity to an emerging company, Stromm Robotics. Pete must admit that with everything else he has been busy with, he has been lax in researching much further but he knows the broad strokes; Dr Mendel Stromm, former lead scientist for Oscorp’s robotics division and one of the (criminal, Pete mutters beneath his breath) masterminds behind projects such as remote operated military drones, state-of-the-art neural networks with applications across many fields and even had a hand in Project Olympus. The company’s activities seem to mostly be above board - or at least the kind of above board that is unfortunately legal despite not exactly being morally upstanding - but some recent incidents involving various public and political figures, including a botched attack against his former employer, have been linked to technology made by Stromm. Considering the industries that the company operates within, it is not entirely outside of the realm of plausibility that some other nefarious criminal group is behind these attacks, and that Stromm Robotics is merely their weapons supplier but there’s something fishy about it.
This is what the ‘something important’ pertains to. Miles has a solid lead on an upcoming shipment of said weapons, and Pete had promised weeks ago he would help out with the reconnaissance mission both because he felt like it would be a job better done with two Spider-Men, but also because he can never pass up the chance to pretend he’s in a spy movie when it comes along.
Even the draw of playing super spy isn’t enough motivation to make him feel enthusiastic about the prospect of being up so early. His limbs resist as he pulls on his suit, his body aching as the fabric tugs against his skin. He should probably force himself to eat a granola bar or something and he is hungry, but the thought of going through the motions of finding one and chewing it down to be able to swallow it seems like far too many steps to consider. MJ barely stirs, watching him with an expression that somehow combines a teasing smirk as she gets to stay in bed with a look of concern.
“I hate you,” he jokes beneath his breath.
“Sucks to be you, Spider-Man,” she smirks, burrowing her face deeper into her pillow. “Night, night.”
He watches her roll over, taking over the empty space he has left in the bed.
It’s a bit of a swing to get to the docks, and so he has to head out promptly. He sneaks out of the window, zipping to a nearby tree and stopping for a minute to catch his bearings and figure out the best route. The sky above is still a murky morning gray, the sun barely risen, and a strange sense of dread weighs heavy in his stomach.
He’d slept well last night, and perhaps if it hadn’t been for the rude interruption of the unexpected alarm, he would have felt refreshed this morning but instead the exhaustion he had felt going to bed last night seems to have increased tenfold. The headache that has been hinting at making an appearance for the past week is starting to make its presence obvious, and although he knows with certainty that his late nights and long work days are finally starting to catch up with him, he continues to operate with the belief that if he ignores this fact, it will go away.
If he truly was sticking to his whole hiatus, trying to establish balance, looking after himself thing, he would call Miles and ask for a raincheck, but he has always been stubborn to a fault and so he settles for taking a moment to catch his breath once he is about halfway to his destination. The occasional Spider-Manning has felt a little more demanding since he’s been taking a break, his bones feeling a smidge achier at the end of the day and that feeling he gets when he watches a spritely Miles practically run laps around him seeming ever more present, but this morning this sense is almost blinding. He balances on the edge of an apartment roof, timing his shaky breaths with the pulse of the city as it wakes, trying to calm the anxious tightness in his chest.
He knows he needs to start making tracks to get to the docks to meet up with Miles, but he doesn’t trust himself to swing yet, suddenly overtaken by a hazy dizziness that makes the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. It almost feels like his Spider-Senses are going haywire, like he is being alerted to a danger he is not yet aware of, but he scans the city and finds no such thing; no threats, no arch-nemesis trying to catch him unawares, not even a distant siren signaling unrest somewhere in the city.
He closes his eyes, trying to reset his senses. He’s still hyper-vigilant, hyper-aware of something feeling off and weird and wrong, but confident that he can get moving again now he has confirmed that there is no danger. He’s reminded of the early days of his powers, when the noise of his spider-sense was just so goddamn loud. He would be aware of his body alerting him to something, but not able to identify where or what or how to respond. He has honed it over the years, able to use the indescribable feeling with an almost pin-point accuracy to dodge punches and source threats a mile off, and although he knows he is still just adept at this as he was before, he feels fuzzy in a way he can’t quite place.
He makes it to the docks, finding Miles perched on a nearby rooftop tapping his fingers along to music being played through his headphones. He turns to look at Pete, sensing his presence before hearing him and switching off his music.
“Good morning,” Miles says all too brightly for Pete’s liking this early in the day.
“Morning,” Pete nods.
Miles checks the time. The shipment doesn’t seem to be nearby yet, and so they stay on this rooftop; the perfect spot to keep an eye out for the arrival. Miles eyes Pete suspiciously; he had expected Pete to be more talkative and the lack of wise-cracks and complaints from his mentor is a little disconcerting.
“You good?” Miles asks, watching Pete unsure if he is watching the docks intently or staring off into space; from the way the question seems to make him jolt, Miles guesses the latter.
“Uh, yeah,” Pete clears his throat. “Fine.”
Okay. So definitely not fine, Miles scoffs under his breath. He’s used to Pete talking a mile a minute, and he fights the urge to fill the dead air with his own jokes, sensing somehow that Pete wouldn’t exactly appreciate them right now. He can’t tell exactly what the feeling is he is picking up on, or even whether it’s his spider-sense or merely his own intuition, but he senses something is wrong, even if he doesn’t know what said ‘something wrong’ is.
“You’re sure?” Miles tries first, earning only a nod from him in response. “MJ’s okay? Did something happen with Harry? Is it work?”
Miles can’t read Pete’s expression beneath the mask, but he can make an educated guess from the older hero’s body language as he sways a little, his balance just a little off kilter as he readjusts his stance.
“Sorry,” Pete manages, his voice hoarser and smaller than he meant for it to sound. “I’m just tired, I guess. Work’s been… Yeah. Work’s been pretty non-stop lately and I kind of forgot about this mission until this morning; my alarm was a bit of a rude awakening."
“Oh,” Miles nods. “Yeah, cool. I mean, not cool, but you know what I mean. You want to call it quits for the day, and I can handle this on my own?”
“No, it’s fine. You wanted me in on this, right?”
“Yeah, but just ‘cause you know more about the Oscorp ins-and-outs, and I thought it’d come in handy with scoping out Stromm.”
“So that’s all I’m useful for?” a flash of the usual-Pete makes an appearance, but Miles can’t quite tell if he’s forcing it, trying to convince Miles he’s okay.
Which is definitely the case. Now he’s firmly awake and can’t attribute how he is feeling to the lasting effects of sleep, Pete is struck by the fact that how he’s feeling isn’t just pure tiredness. His bones feel heavy and achy and uncomfortable and although he doesn’t want to admit it to himself let alone to Miles, he’s pretty sure he is getting sick.
Just as quickly as he can come to this revelation, however, he spots the incoming shipment in the distance. He and Miles jump into action, swinging to the docks and taking up their respective spots to monitor the delivery as it makes its way onto land. Just one glance at the tall and muscled workers in head-to-toe Stromm Robotics uniforms already riled up and arguing with one another confirms that today’s mission may be a little more difficult than predicted.
Whelp. Today’s going to be fun .