Vexillum
Spider-Man is on the ground.
He's not relaxing, laying on the floor as his civilian self like lots of teenagers tend to sporadically do. He didn't trip, not the accidentally-sticky enhanced side of him, nor the clumsy teenager persona.
Spider-Man is on the ground, a puddle of blood slowly forming underneath his masked head.
His leg is bent at the knee, at an outward angle that even mutated bodies like his shouldn't be able to do.
There's a group of civilians standing around him, staring and looking in horrified fashion.
A mother is trying to shield her child's eyes away with her hand, as the small human points gobsmacked at the obvious injuries.
They all look panicked. Each and every one of them worried and so out of their league. This is Spider-Man, the friendly neighbourhood vigilante; The guy who's out on the streets every night to protect them, and swings around during the day to help out with smaller problems and altercations. This is the superhero who always gets back up to make sure everyone has a happy ending.
Now the people of New York stand there, watching, worrying. because what do you do when unexpectedly your roles are reversed?
"Is anyone a doctor?" A small woman wearing a white hijab as pale as her face asks. She doesn't look around for an answer, simply stares at the red and blue form at the ground, whose chest continues to rise less and less, and whose suit progressively turns more red.
No one moves. The silence hangs thick in the air as the pedestrians contemplate how to help the fallen hero.
In a way it makes sense. These people never expected to be in this situation. Not just because when it comes to superheroes you automatically assume they'll always prevail. But also because this isn't exactly the hero's territory. Everyone knows Spider-Man mostly operates in Queens, only being spotted outside of it occasionally. This was a nasty fight however, with a winged opponent who took the battle through different areas of New York. The people living in Hell's Kitchen didn't anticipate the sighting of Spider-Man, much less his fall.
And fall he did, right out of the sky at an altitude between the clouds. They weren't able to see what had happened, but everyone roaming the streets witnessed Spider-Man's body coming down hard and fast. No one saw the jetpack-clad person come down. Meaning the fight wasn't over, and help needed to be called in.
This realisation seems to pass through the crowd at once. One woman dials the police, a man asks around if they should alert the Avengers help-line. Another short man with long blond hair finally speaks up, "I know a nurse from the hospital around the corner." He dumbly says, still staring at the lifeless body at the ground. A taller man next to him nods and asks if he can get in contact with her. The blond nods back and proceeds to walk out of the circle of people, phone to his ear.
Not even five minutes later the flashing lights of the ambulance siren enter the street, shortly followed up by the police from another corner.
Help has finally arrived.
A latina woman jumps out of the emergency vehicle and quickly approaches the horde of people, gently pushing them aside.
They all let her through, no one leaves though. Instead they stay around, watching as the nurse checks his pulse and breathing with a stethoscope. Another male nurse joins and starts checking on his knee, calling out medical terms like it's just a normal procedure.
It isn't. This is Spider-Man. And so everyone lingers close by the medical personnel, ready to jump in if anything goes wrong or seems suspicious. Everything looks okay. Or as okay as can be in a situation like this.
After only a minute or two the second nurse calls out that he's clear to move and is immediately joined by his colleagues and a brancar. Some bystanders hug as the hero is lifted up for transportation, relieved that he'll be helped and supported.
As the masked vigilante is carried away two thoughts hang heavy in the air. The first is a prayer that the man will be alright, recover well and soon. For both his sake, and the people who relied on his daily presence on the street and the safety he brings. The second is a thank you. A realisation. Of how while none of them were able to do much, no one attempted to make it worse either. Not a single camera flash went off into the dark silent night. And no one made any move to unmask the injured man, that of which his identity is the most wanted secret. And so the second thought is accompanied by relief.
Maybe there is still some faith left in humanity after all.
***
The next morning, news of the fight is everywhere.
The Daily Bugle releases multiple articles, videos and overall fits about how Spider-Man has failed once again and let a villain run (or soar) free. The papers are littered with articles and pictures of the fight in question, red crosses or big lettered words covering the images. In the stale office J.J.J. the chief of the company yells around and complains about not having any pictures of Spider-Man down on the ground. Obviously not caring about being disrespectful. In his point of view, Spider-Man is a menace, and it's only in due time that the mutant would hit rock bottom. What a hilarious delight it is that he actually hit the ground. Hard.
His staff members keep looking at each other with cautious glances. No one dares to speak up but all employees appear to disagree with their bosses opinions. After being ordered to look around more for any "Money shot pictures" they make no move to do so and instead open up more official news sites.
The rest of New York does the same. The police station and hospital that aided in last night's casualty released statements about the hero's well-being. The man seems to be doing well. recovering quickly. At the same moment as people are watching and listening to these updates the superhero in question is already on his way home.
The concerned people are finally able to breathe again at the good news.
But not all weight is lifted from their shoulders. Worries remain. Fears for a possible next time. A guaranteed next time. The reality of how even superheroes get hurt has started to sink in. Old articles resurfacing of wounds and injuries from the Avengers, Defenders and others, but mostly pictures and videos of Spider-Man. Falls, Bullets and stabbings are all viewed in a new light. The statistics of these injuries scare many people.
Since heroes like Spider-Man started protecting the street only one out of seven altercations ended in serious injury. Meanwhile their protector leaves with various lacerations five out of those seven times.
No one realised the severity of that until now.
Was there anyone looking out for vigilante's? Did they return home to a first aid kid and a caring hand or to a bandage and a bottle of tylenol? Could they get medical care in hospitals or were they forced to hide behind youtube videos on how to remove bullets and reset broken bones?
No one knows the answers to these questions, neither did they want to risk it. And so it started.
***
Only three days after the lost battle with the winged villain, Spider-Man returns to the streets.
He's greeted by many cheering pedestrians who wave as he swings by and yell many words of appreciation and relief.
He travels through a busy street filled with small shops and stores, almost all of them small independent businesses. He often checks these streets during the day. Many times helping someone carry their groceries or return a wandering child to their parents. It's a nice area to patrol in after days of heavy fights or long school days as the most serious problem he has encountered was a simple robbery.
Now though, there's a large crowd gathered at the end of the street. Chatter and commotion collects more curious people and soon the whole road is blocked off with bodies. Peter quickly moves to the small pharmacy in question and looks around to assess the situation. Many have their camera's out, moving the filming devices to the spandex clad hero before them. He notices the recordings being switched between himself and a sign in front of the medicine store.
Confused and intrigued he takes a look at the source of the commotion, reading the newly added sign.
'Free medical supplies for Spider-Man available!' It reads, and he feels his insides melt.
It's been a rough few days since his fall. He knows many people were there and tried to help but he's also aware of the disappointment from his failure. Read every news article The Daily Bugle released since then. Not to forget how his super hearing caught onto many conversations on the street. Many in his favour, but lots against as well.
Since starting college he has been on his own more than ever. Longer lonelier school days and no one to return home to at the end of the day. Ned and MJ both went to MIT while Peter stayed for NYU, due to costs and his duties as Spider-Man. He did get a small apartment close to his campus and so he had to say goodbye to dinners and fun nights with his aunt May, as well as her medical help.
Things have been hard but New York has proven itself capable of making everything worth it.
And so he stays for a while, taking pictures and signing autographs. He goes inside and finds the workers who had put the sign outside. He gets a big hug from all of them, that heals a bit inside both parties.
***
That evening Peter Parker walks home from a grocery store. He made a quick foodrun after his last lesson for the day before having to study for his next exam. The stressful days and lingering injuries are the cause of his civilian self mostly roaming the streets. He has decided to patrol during the day on his study breaks but leave the nights be for a little while. It's the most dangerous time in New York and he currently isn't prepared to take those on yet.
He has a little bit of self preservation left, thank you very much.
The bag painfully bumps into his knee with every other step and the cold attacks the still healing gash on the back of his head. He's still a few blocks out when he decides to take a break and without much care drops the bag of groceries to the ground next to a little bench. He sits down on the bench just as gracefully and tilts his head back, pinching the skin between his eyes to focus himself and redirect some of the pain.
Peter's still in the same position when he opens his eyes, staring up at the higher levels of the buildings in front of him.
Almost every light inside the homes is off, the only luminosity coming from the street lights. One window catches his eye however. One of those LED light boards with customisable letters is placed in front of the window.
It illuminates the whole glass, harshly glaring into his enhanced eyes.
Peter forces himself to blink a few times to readjust his vision. The letters on the light box slowly sharpen to a readable level revealing the displayed message.
'Spiderman. medical professional home.'
***
Pictures of the sign at the pharmacy and the light up letter board in the window spread through social media. Soon almost everyone has seen them, or added onto it.
Slowly a list starts growing online with locations that have started offering medical help. A tweet circulates from someone who had both seen Peter after his fall, and at the pharmacy. There's a threat of text about their experience seeing the hero twice and how thankful they are for his good deeds and his health. The tweet ends with a video of Spider-Man reading the 'Free medical supplies for Spider-Man available!'' sign for the first time and visually being touched by the gesture, accompanied by the list of locations offering the same gesture.
Not much later the police come out with a video of their own on the matter.
"Spider-Man is a superhero who has been aiding the police in many situations as well as protecting the citizens of this city whenever we are unable to do so." The video starts. It shows a standard looking cop sitting behind a desk at the station. His moustache twitches with every other word due to his accent, corners of his mouth tilting up to let the words come out.
"We here at the station are very thankful for his hard work and the protection he offers. The decision has been made to give some in return after an uprising of appreciated, but unsafe methods of aid have started being handed out. We would like to continue on the idea of offering help by those capable of doing so, but some changes will be made.
"From this day forth you can apply as a 'Helping Hand' by filling out the form on the website listed on the screen. For now this service is only available by the citizens of New York but we are looking into branching out to neighbouring areas. The 'Helping Hand' status will clear you as official aid for Spider-Man and other superheroes who are in need of support in different forms. By applying for this position you will be screened and interviewed to ensure that each household is secure for the hero in need to enter."
The video cuts to a picture of coloured flags.
"To do this we are installing this official flag system. These are marked and will only be handed out after passing the inspection. Each different coloured flag indicates a different service offered. Varying from such things as medical help, rest-stations and therapy. We hope that with these measurements installed that the heroes protecting us can safely receive help for themselves in return for their many good deeds. Thank you New York for being considerate, and thank you Spider-Man for all you've done for us so far. This was officer Herman. Out."
The city immediately takes action. Praise for the police department's support floats around and the form gets filled in quicker than the team of workers can keep up with.
Slowly the streets of New York start to get filled with different coloured flags. Spider-Man hasn't made use of any of the locations yet, but it's a good thought to know he can. He isn't alone. And New York isn't helpless. The opposite even.