Chapter Text
Will’s situation could not be worse. Genuinely. Seriously. He has never wanted to wake up on his shitty mattress less.
His enhanced healing did a little bit, like for example, his arm isn't broken anymore (It still hurts when he bends it) and his ribs are only bruised now, as opposed to their past state of ‘very broken’.
It didn't do shit for his many bruises though. And he’s gonna have to excuse those away somehow- Jonathan and his mom are never home in the mornings, so at the very least he won't have to be explaining how he randomly woke up with his face, abdomen, legs, everything, beat in.
He will, however, still have to explain whenever he arrives home from school.
“You are so stupid,” El hisses once they're both settled into their seats on the bus. Exactly like Lucas had last night, he muses.
Will side eyes her. “You’re the one who told me to get close to the edge of the building,”
“To escape, not to get thrown off of it.”
“Well it wasn't exactly my intention to get thrown off, was it?”
El doesn't respond, but does continue her glare. He’s not perturbed.
The silence doesn't last, mostly because they're on a school bus and those aren't exactly known for being silent, but also because they do need to discuss…whatever happened last night, and whatever’s gonna happen tonight.
El sighs.
“You can borrow some of my concealer. You are paying me back for it though.”
“Thanks,” he mutters.
At the very least, crime rates have been getting better with him around. Even if he’s exhausted all the time, and his friends have been asking about his reappearing eyebags, and sure sometimes his whole spider-half gets a little out of control sometimes, it’s still good.
He likes his job, and even if he didn't he can't exactly quit. He’s spiderman- spiderman doesn't quit.
Even if spiderman is scraping by everyday by drinking enough caffeine to give him a heart attack.
El shifts in her seat, pulling out her phone and speaking as she types something in.
“You are not going out tonight.”
He expected that, but that doesn't mean he's happy about it. What is he gonna do if he’s not being spiderman? Lay in bed and stare at his ceiling? Put in his earbuds and pretend he can't feel the bone deep aches in his body? He would rather not. He’s spent enough years doing that to never wanna look at his room’s shitty popcorn ceiling ever again.
He hums in response to El, arguing has never done much against her, and then decides to switch the subject before she doubles down on his house arrest.
“I never actually got the robbers arrested.”
El hums, looking up at him and staring at him. Her own odd way of urging him on.
“I stopped the robbery, but they blasted me off a roof before I could alert police or tie them up like I usually would.”
His sister contemplates for a moment, before responding to him.
“Yeah, they are the ones that have been popping up these past couple months too. I do not think the police have been able to get them into custody either.”
When Will thinks about it, she's right. He’s been seeing the same masked people pop up on the news, never close enough for him to get to in time to stop the crime, and apparently not close enough for police to either.
And the power blasters they had were…strange, to say the least. He didn't think twice about it last night, too busy trying to apprehend them and not die while doing so. The world has all kinds of crazy new technology nowadays anyways, he’s seen some wild stuff while on patrol. He didn't have a reason to question their weapons.
But considering that one of the things blasted him off a damn roof, and disabled his webs (no, they weren't empty, he checked this morning and they had at least half of the web fluid from last night in them), it's probably something to look closer into. Recurring criminals, powerful weapons, not yet caught? None of those things point to anything good.
“I’ll check it out,” he tells El. And that's that.
-
When he enters school he’s immediately being harassed by his friends.
“What the hell happened to your face?” Mike says, grabbing Will's jaw and turning his head side to side.
Lucas stays numbingly silent, glaring at Will and not contributing in the slightest. Which…he supposes is valid.
Dustin comes up behind Mike, eyeing him up and down. The scrutiny of both of his friends makes him want to shudder, just slightly. Being perceived has never really been his thing.
“Was Troy on his bullshit again? He’s never actually beaten the shit out of us before?” Dustin asks, confused.
It opens the perfect lie for Will to take. He hates lying to his friends, and he hates even more how common it's become for him in the past few years that he's been spiderman. He wishes he could just tell them, just let everything out.
He can't. He’s spiderman, and sometimes spiderman has to make hard choices. That's just the way of the job. He doesn't want his friends to be worried about him every night if they knew, he already has his sister (and Lucas??) worrying enough.
He takes the lie, even as he sees El grimace as she speaks to Max a few feet away, even as it tastes like poison and ash on his tongue.
“Yeah,” he mutters. “Guess puberty is fucking Troy up even more,” he snorts.
His friends frown.
“I swear to god I'm gonna kill that guy one day,” Mike says, in his typical whiny voice, and lets go of Will's face.
Everything goes back to normal after that, except for a few teachers briefly questioning him before their classes.
He doesn't notice Mike's concerned gaze on him for the rest of the day.
-
It turns out, after school, he does not go home and stare at his ceiling or put in his earbuds and try to ignore the aches and pains from last night.
Mike has scheduled an impromptu dnd session, which Will really shouldn't be all too surprised about- he does this fairly often.
But it does mean that Will is gonna have to walk all the way to the Wheeler's house, with a beat in face and bruised to hell and back ribs. Oh joy.
“And, well, we can just slip you past everyone probably. Nancy won’t care- and my parents are probably at work or something,” Mike continued his tirade, brainstorming ways to get Will and his bruises past so that he can apply concealer in the basement’s bathroom.
He appreciates the effort, really, but he would probably appreciate it more if he didn't feel like a walking corpse.
In front of them, Max bursts out laughing as her and El push each other around on the sidewalk.
Lucas and Dustin are nerding out about dnd next to them- Will is pretty sure they're discussing homebrews they saw on tumblr.
“Yeah,” he murmurs. He inhales a breath, lungs protesting and ribs throbbing “It’ll be fine,” he adds, quieter.
Mike glances at him with something akin to concern in his gaze. Will doesn't entertain the sentiment - he’s okay. He just needs his healing to kick in faster.
He sighs. Unsurprisingly, it hurts. He’s getting used to pain again, just like when he lived with his father.
-
“Fuck- shit- piss-” Max leans over the table, staring intently at the makeshift dnd map across it.
“DO SOMETHING!” Lucas yells, already standing.
“I swear to god El cast something-” Will contributes.
“Times ticking, dont let Vecna win…” Mike says ominously, being the least helpful out of everyone.
“HE’S ON LOW HEALTH ALREADY JUST DO SOMETHING!!” Dustin shouts, almost knocking over his playing piece.
“Uhm- okay I cast… fire bolt,” El seems unsure, but Will is drowning in too much suspense to give reassurances.
“Roll 2d10,” the dungeon master declares.
The table is silent as El picks up the dice and rolls them around in her hands.
She throws them onto the table.
She lands a two and a one.
The party bursts out into screams.
-
Will is situated over the bathroom sink, attempting to beat the color corrector and foundation on his face. Mike is sitting on the bath tub ledge, because for some unknown reason he insisted on “helping” Will. makeup is a one person job, and he stands by that. Mike is just being a nuisance.
“I cannot believe that roll,” Mike mutters. “may as well have been a nat one at that point- what the hell? no way you guys were winning.”
Will nods. “Poor El man, they’re probably burning her alive in there right now,” he winces as he dabs a bit too hard at one bruised spot.
Apparently, his aches and pains have not stopped with time, only multiplied. His legs hurts now. He has no idea why that is, but getting thrown off a building had some odd side effects so who the hell knows.
They're both silent after that. Will can hear their friends talking in the room over, probably discussing future campaigns or characters. Or complaining about tonight’s game.
His face…is not looking much better. There’s still a few faint blotches of purple visible through the color corrector and the foundation, and the swelling seems even more obvious without the discoloration now.
he breathes out slowly, setting the makeup applier (that is definitely not the word- but it isn’t like El is giving him detailed descriptions of everything she lets him borrow.) down and resting his head in his hands.
he startles when Mike clears his throat. It's not that he forgot his friend was there, per se, but it wasn’t exactly at the forefront of his mind.
“i know we don’t really do a lot of, uh, feeling talks and stuff,” Mike starts. Will cringes at that- yeah, they don’t really discuss any of their, both fairly obvious, traumas. Is this what toxic masculinity is? Is he toxicly masculine?
“But- if you, you know, wanna talk about anything? I'm here. or if you need me to beat Troy's ass.”
Will snorts, lifting his head out of his hands. They're both well aware that Mike would lose immediately. He's an absolute beanpole.
He, once again, startles when he realizes Mike is standing up, and lingering just a few feet away from Will.
The boy looks a mix between bashful and very concerned when he flinches back at the sudden proximity.
“That’s…nice,” Will words, and god he is really not great at this whole talking thing. “I’m here for you too,” he adds. Because he thinks that’s what he’s supposed to say here? he’s not really sure. He doesn't do this a lot, okay?
“I know you are dumbass. I just- is something going on?”
and that lodges a lump in his throat. because even if Mike Wheeler is the stupidest person he knows, the boy is still the most perceptive.
And nothing bad is going on, not really. His dad is gone, he’s doing better mentally, he gets thrown off buildings every weekend and fights crime every night and half the time isn’t quite sure if he’s gonna make it home, but that’s fine. That's what spiderman is supposed to do, it’s his job.
And so he says, “I’m fine, Mike. I'd tell you if I wasn't."
Mike's response is instantaneous. “you didn’t last time.”
That catches Will off guard. Because he didn’t back then, and he definitely isn’t now, but mike doesn’t need to say it.
“I’m fine, Mike. drop it.” he bites, and then disappears out the bathroom door. He’s going to…talk to El or something. He doesn’t know- whatever means not dealing with mikes questioning words and concerned gaze.