Delirium
The fight with the bank robber had been an easy mission.
It was as easy as a quick webbing around the torso and sticking the dude to a lamppost while dismantling what looked like a supercharged up water gun.
That and a whole lot of fighting, and getting hit in the stomach more than once with that stupid water gun.
But with a little patience and a distracted opponent, Peter expertly took the guy down.
Easy, done.
So why did he feel so off all of a sudden?
Returning the parts back to the manager was filled with a bunch of thank you’s and respectful bows.
Which Peter took with humble sincerity and a flush on his cheeks.
Man he was cold.
Was it always so cold out?
Peter fidgeted from one foot to the other as the manager continued to thank him.
“Really, its no problem.” He spoke through his mask and began to casually walk backwards.
He had to get out of there.
“Just make sure to keep an eye on him till the police shows up.”
Outstretching his hand, Peter aims toward the building behind him and launches a web at the very top for maximum lift.
“And keep him away from your store.”
“Guy has a real shoplifting problem.”
Peter says with a forced grin and a hasty salute.
He hoists himself up into the sky until he’s airborne and feeling the cold October wind penetrate the micro fibre in his suit, the hair on his body standing up on end.
Now he was definitely cold.
But also really dizzy.
And his suit felt tighter constricting his movements more than usual.
Was the spandex always this tight?
“Peter, you seem to be shivering would you like me to initiate the internal heating?” KAREN asks as Peter finds a flat roof to land on.
“No! I mean, I’m f-fine Karen.”
The moment the heaters come on and Tony would get a notification he’d guess.
Last thing he needed was Mr Stark checking up on him.
He was fine.
He just really needed to get out of his suit.
“I just really need to get out of this...”
Wait.
Vertigo creeps behind his eyes as the flat roof begins to sway in every direction.
Peter falls to his knees as his places both hands on the concrete floor.
Trying desperately to feel grounded again.
It wasn’t working.
The wind whips at his body leaving Peter trembling again while his face flushes a warm intensity he’d never felt before.
The mask had to go.
But he couldn’t just strip in the middle of all these buildings surrounded by high rises and large windows.
He really needed to get home.
But with the world swaying as it was, Peter knew webbing away was out of the question.
“Initiating internal heater.”
“Wha-no...K-Karen I said not too!”
The sudden warmth followed by steam evacuating from his suit felt too good to stay angry.
“In any other situation I would have complied, but the villain you stopped used a high powered engineered water gun. You are completely soaked and it’s cold outside. We also don’t know enough about the weapon, it could be doing something to you from the inside. Did you forget?”
“I... maybe?”
It was beginning to get harder and harder to think.
Home.
He had to get home.
Since swinging across buildings was a definite no, Peter started to stand up to get a better view of the roof looking for the exit.
The moment he was up though his legs wobbled like cooked spaghetti immediately giving out.
His knees hit the concrete with a hard thud.
“O-ow.”
“You seem to be in some distress.” KAREN states the obvious.
“N-no... pretty sure I’m...”
Peter can’t finish his quip before a splash of bile slips up his throat coating his tongue with an awful acidic flavour.
He wants to burp.
He wants to swallow whatever is threatening to escape.
He wants to do anythingbut the inevitable.
Peter quickly pulls up his mask over his mouth.
Just in time for vomit to erupt through his mouth.
The harsh brown sludge splatters on the concrete roof, colours of early morning breakfast swirling in the puddle of expelled waste.
“Aw, g-gross.” Peter whispers hoarsely while crawling backwards away from the mess until his back finds shelter by way of a brick wall.
Peter gently slumps against it looking upwards towards the sky, watching as the grey clouds swirl and dance through his dizzy eyes.
The world refuses to stop spinning.
Peter places an arm gently around his torso.
Hoping it would somehow soothe his churning stomach.
It doesn’t.
Peter quickly turns to the side before another wave of puke ejects from his mouth.
He tries to take a deep breath but immediately gags instead.
After another heave, Peter’s pretty sure his stomachs empty at this point.
It is.
But now he’s dry heaving.
Which he’s pretty sure feels worse.
After what feels like an eternity the gaging and dry heaving, it all finally comes to a stop.
Feeling exhausted, Peter closes his eyes for what he hopes is just enough rest to get back up again and get home.
Peter has no idea how long he’s been laying there but suddenly he can feel a hand on his shoulder.
He forces his eyes to open and see through the build up of tears.
He can see Mr Stark with a worried look but a humorous frown.
“Remember when I told you not to get hit with the super soaker?”