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Let it be known, to all who ask, that Pavitr Prabhakar feels like shit .
Okay, don't actually tell anyone, he's actually been keeping this under wraps for a little while now and would prefer to just shove through it by himself and tell absolutely no one about what's going on.
Namely, that he's hot, and also cold, and somehow all his muscles ache, and his head feels like it was plunged underwater while also being whacked on by a mallet. And he's got some killer sniffles. And he has to keep dipping into alleys between swings to gag into a trashcan, but not actually vomit, because there's nothing to vomit, given he hasn't been able to keep much of anything down the last couple of days.
He was keeping it pretty down low, though, if he does say so himself. He's been keeping to his own world, only leaving his room for his spidey duties (it was the weekend thankfully, excusing him from suffering in class too). He told Maya Auntie he was staying in to study for a big test coming up, which wasn't a complete lie (thank god, because he's awful at keeping secrets from her even on a good day).
So it seemed like his plan to just tough it out til whatever he had went away was working pretty much perfectly.
Until he got a call to report to HQ.
Pav groaned at the buzzing on his wrist. He was laid out on his bed, having just gotten back from his nightly patrol, and was very not happy that his sleep-for-the-next-20-hours plan was being foiled. He flopped over to his front and glared at his watch, as if that might silence its persistent tones. Unfortunately, these things weren't programmed with an answering machine, so he had no choice but to accept the call.
" Pav?" Hobie's voice filled his ears. A very welcome change from Miguel, in Pavitr's opinion. Especially right now, since his boyfriend was more likely to be kinder to him were he to be slightly off his game. " Sorry for the ring, I know it's late for you, but Miguel's calling us up for some mission briefing. Figured I'd let you know before the big man did."
Pavitr grumbled. "I'm guessing this can't wait until morning?"
" Unfortunately not, luv. Apparently this is some big abnormality that needs checked out as-soon-as-inconvenient. Otherwise I wouldn't have bothered calling."
Pav groaned the entire way up to a standing position, his head throbbing as he straightened upright. "I'm on my way."
" See you soon, luv."
"See you soon."
He hit the hang-up button with perhaps a little more force than necessary before punching in the numbers for the spider society HQ. The portal lit up in front of him, its bright colors immediately worsening his headache, and he stepped through, hoping for a gentler ride through multispace.
He really shouldn't have been surprised when it was just as rough and tumbley as it always was. He felt like it was his first time all over again, immediately feeling disoriented and dizzy as he was yanked through. He had to clap a hand over his mouth halfway through for fear of his (still empty) stomach rioting against him.
Once out, he had to stand completely still for a moment, eyes screwed shut, to calm his spinning head and roiling stomach before he could even think of continuing. After a minute or two of deep breathing (and mentally mapping out all the nearest trashcans) he opened his eyes, let go of his mouth, and started on his way towards Miguel's office.
Hobie met him right outside, slinging an arm around him as they walked in. "Morning, er, evening, for you. Hopefully this is just the briefing, and he'll let you get some sleep before the actual mission."
"I sure hope so."
Hobie picked up on his less-than-cheerful mood immediately. "You alright, Pav?"
"Fine, pyar . I'm just tired; I was almost asleep when you called."
Hobie gave him one last scrutinizing look. "... well, good thing I called you, then. Miguel's would've been right when you hit deep sleep."
"Yeah, that would've sucked."
Thankfully, Miguel's platform was already lowered when they got there, so there was none of that weird, awkward wait. Instead, he just turned straight to them. "Hobie. Pavitr. Sorry for the late-night call, but this can't wait."
Pavitr nodded, and glanced back at the computer screens to get a look at what they were dealing with, only to find them… kinda blurry? He chalked it up to them being far away and thus out of focus, and did his best to tune in to whatever Miguel was saying.
Strangely enough, though, he found he just couldn't focus on the words coming out of his mouth. He caught maybe every… third word that he said, and even then he couldn't really piece together what all he was saying. He tried focusing on his face, to see if maybe also reading his lips would help?
But there again, no dice. His vision was… doing weird things again. Things were still blurry, but it also seemed like things were starting to get darker? Is he dimming the lights? For a visual presentation maybe?
He felt Hobie's arm around him tighten, and he felt? Heard? Hobie's voice, loud in his ear, but also unintelligible, and he managed to mumble a "...could you… say that again?" before his eyes rolled back in his head and he was gone.
—
He came to slowly, one sense at a time. The first thing he registered was being… mostly horizontal. He definitely did not remember being horizontal, so that's weird. He's not laying down though, he's kind of… bent? He thinks on it some more, focuses more on the details of what he's feeling, and… yes, definitely bent. His knees are bent up, and he's bent forward at the waist. Definitely not a normal laying position. He decides touch alone isn't really giving him much information, and starts working to open his eyes. They're heavy, really heavy, so it's a fight, but he's Spiderman, dammit! He's fought harder villains than his own damn eyes!
Finally, oh so slowly, he manages to crack his eyes just barely open. It's very bright out, so bright he almost abandons this endeavor entirely and shuts his eyes, but he's fought too damn hard to get them open, so he forces them to stay open, to perceive whatever's happening around him.
The first thing he actually manages to see is… Hobie. Or, rather, the underside of Hobie's chin, and a bit of his nose. His eyebrows furrow. That… doesn't answer his questions. He looks around a bit more, still trying to piece together just what the hell happened and where the hell he is.
He manages to figure out that he's against Hobie's chest, that Hobie is carrying him , which would explain the strange bent position he was in, and, judging by the rapidly changing background behind Hobie, he was running. Running where, he still doesn't know, but at least he knows more than he did a few seconds ago.
He comes to the conclusion that he's gathered all the information he can by himself, and the only way to get more is to find his voice and ask Hobie what the everloving fuck was going on. He opens his mouth, which feels about how the Mumbattan streets do in mid-July, which is to say, dry , and tries to say "what's going on?"
What actually comes out of his mouth is more of a "w'sss… g'non?"
Hobie startles a little, and his eyes flick down to Pav for a moment before refocusing on whatever their destination is. "Hey, Pav, luv, good to see you awake, um, could you stay awake? Just for a little bit? For me?"
Pav looks at him confusedly, and a bit frustrated. He didn't answer his question! Maybe he just didn't hear him right. He works his mouth again for a moment before trying again. "'obie? Wha's goin' on?"
"You passed out in Miguel's office. I don't know why or what's goin' on with you, so I'm taking you to medical."
Oh. Well there's that answered. He doesn't remember passing out, but given his position, he's willing to believe Hobie on this one.
"S'rry."
"Don't apologize, darlin', nothin' to be sorry for. Wish you would've told me you were feelin' ill earlier, could've told Miguel to find somebody else for his mission'n let you get some sleep."
Pav hummed. "I'm really tired, Hobes…"
Hobie hissed out a swear. "I know, luv, I know you're tired, but you gotta stay awake. Just a few more minutes, see, we're here at medical, just stay with me for a little bit so the nice doctors can get a look at you."
He hummed again, not really having the energy to speak again. He watched Hobie as he talked to someone out of his sight, something about "...sick…feverish…completely out…" before he felt himself being moved, set down on something soft. It was really comfy, and he looked at Hobie, looking off at something over his head, as his vision darkened yet again, and he let himself slip back into the darkness.
—
When he wakes up the second time, it's much quicker. He's able to open his eyes without much difficulty, looking around to, yet again, figure out where the hell he was.
He was in a bed, for starters, with the blankets drawn up to his chest, which was a good thing too, since it seemed like the entire upper half of his suit had been removed. He's pretty sure he's still got his pants on, but he's covered by the blankets, and he doesn't really feel like checking.
The walls are a clean white, with a singular blue stripe running along the wall. There's an IV in his arm, and curtains surrounding his bed. In medical, then. That's good, probably the best place to be right now.
He turned to see Hobie asleep in a chair beside his bed, holding his hand. He smiled, and wished he had his phone on him to take some pictures while he was here.
As it was, he mentally committed the image to memory before giving his hand a squeeze and shaking it a little to wake him up. Like he normally did when he woke up, no matter how gentle, he startled awake, head shooting up from where it was resting against Pav's leg. His eyes landed on Pavitr, awake, smiling at him, and he visibly relaxed.
"Hey."
"Hi."
"Glad to see you awake."
"Glad to be awake."
Hobie snorted. "How're you feeling?"
Pav paused, taking a moment to assess his body. His headache was pretty much gone, though he still ached all over just a bit. The near-constant nausea he'd had was completely gone, thank god, and his mouth wasn't quite so dry.
"A lot better than before, that's for sure. Sorry for scaring you like that, I really thought I could just push through it."
Hobie shook his head. "Quit apologizin', I already told you there's nothin' you've got to be sorry for."
Pav tilted his head. "You did?"
"Yeah? When you woke up while I was bringing you here?"
"Oh… yeah, I don't remember waking up. Last thing I remember, we were walking into Miguel's office. I'm assuming I passed out?"
"Yep: Miguel got about two minutes into his briefing before you swayed real hard into my side, I asked if you were alright, and you just kinda… like you looked in my direction, but it's like you couldn't actually tell where I was. You mumbled something I couldn't really make out, and you were out. I'd had a suspicion something was off, but I figured it was just because you were on the brink of falling asleep. That, though, wasn't falling asleep.
"I didn't even wait for Miguel to dismiss us. I just grabbed you and ran. You woke up halfway there, looking for all the world like it was a struggle just to focus on me. I told you what happened, you tried to apologize, I told you to can it, and then you were out again before the docs could so much as come see you."
He glanced up at the clock on the wall behind Pav's head. "You stayed asleep for about 9 hours. You had a real bad fever, 103° at its highest, and the docs said your blood pressure was really low, which is what led to you passing out. You were severely dehydrated, hence the IV. They had to stick you a couple times, since your veins were so tiny from the dehydration, so that's why your arms probably sting a little. They're not entirely sure what caused it, they're thinking the flu or something like that with the added strain of your normal spiderman activities, and then the portal trip was just too much for you."
Pavitr blinked. "I… didn't realize it had gotten that bad."
"The big kicker was the dehydration. Pav, when was the last time you drank anything?"
Pav snorted humorlessly. "The bigger question is when was the last time I was able to keep it down. The answer to that one was a couple days ago: I just kept throwing it all up, so I gave up on it. Figured it just needed time to work through my system, and my 'spiderman activities' are a lot easier when I'm not stopping every five minutes to puke."
Hobie sighed. "You should've said something . Pav, if you hadn't been here, you might've passed out at home, and as much as I love and respect Maya Auntie, there was no way she'd be able to drag your ass to a hospital if you were completely dead weight." Hobie squeezed his hand, before bringing it to his lips, gently kissing the backs of his fingers. "You don't have to just sit and bear it by yourself anymore. I want to be able to take care of you, love. In any and every way. And I'd much rather be at your house, holding your hair back and handing you water, than sitting here hoping you're gonna be okay."
Pav, a little surprised at what was a very emotional response from the normally pretty reserved Hobie, did his best to lean forward towards him and cup his face with his free hand. "You're right, I should've said something, and I'm sorry it ended up to this extreme, and before you tell me not to apologize , you're right again, it could've been really bad if I got worse at home. I'm just… used to doing it on my own, you know? I've never had an issue with it before, even after I became Spiderman, and it finally bit me in the butt today, ha. But also, just so you know, Maya Auntie is very aware that, should anything happen to me, she has to press a specific button on my watch that will call for help."
Hobie raised an eyebrow. "I didn't know the watches had a help button."
Pavitr rolled his eyes. "They don't, silly, it's the speed dial button for you. "
"...Oh."
"Yeah. Oh. Dummy."
"Well how was I supposed to know that! I was out here thinking of every possible incident and catastrophe, and here you are already thinking five steps ahead of me!"
"To be fair, it wasn't my idea, it was Gwen's. She came up with a scenario pretty similar to yours, where Maya Auntie wouldn't be able to help me, so I got Peni to help me set it up."
"Ah, of course, the only other one who'd think up stuff like that."
"I'm not sure if you're meaning that in a good way or a bad way."
"Both."
"Ah."
They settled into a comfortable silence as Pavitr looked up at the bag of fluids attached to his IV line. It was almost empty.
"Hey, did they say how much longer I'd be in here for?"
"They didn't give a specific time, no. They did say they wanted to keep you here long enough to make sure you were hydrated and that whatever had you down initially wasn't something too serious."
Pavitr groaned, his head flopping back on the pillows. "So I'm stuck in here?"
"For a little bit, yep. At the very least, you need the rest. You're still sick, even if you feel better."
"But you said it yourself! I feel better!"
"But you're still not at 100%. And don't bother fighting me on that one, when they took your temperature an hour ago it was still high, and you're moving like your everything hurts."
"But-"
"Nope. No more buts. You're staying here, if not by the doctors’ orders, then by mine. You need the break."
Pavitr sighed, blowing a loose wisp of hair out of his face. He knows when he's lost, at least. He looked up at the TV hanging from the wall. Briefly wondering how he hadn't noticed that before, he turned back to Hobie. "Do you think they've got Netflix on there?"
Hobie smiled. "Doesn't hurt to check."
—
And when the doctor came in for his rounds two hours later and found the two teens asleep, both crammed into the one hospital bed, he just smiled to himself and dimmed the lights on his way out.