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You had begun to think your balcony was cursed. There had been occasions in the past, when you would open the door leading out to said balcony, only to find some injured animal taking shelter there.
The very first time that happened, you found a pigeon. The poor thing had a broken wing and it looked so pitiful that you carefully scooped it up and brought it inside. You took it to a nearby walk-in pet clinic. It took a couple of weeks, but pretty soon the bird was starting to show signs of flying and one day it flew out your window.
And though you had been sad to see it go, you were happy it was healthy now.
After that pigeon you found several other birds on your balcony. Once you had even found a cat with a broken paw. Another time a cat licking over newborn kittens. The latter of which had allowed you to adopt one of the kittens as your own. It had actually been the runt of the litter, and your tender heart didn’t want it to die, so you had fed it yourself, taking care of it until it became strong enough.
You named her Coral.
Birds and cats, that was the extent of injured creatures you found on your balcony.
So one night, when you opened the door to let in a little fresh New York air, and found an unresponsive figure laying there, you very nearly screamed out loud.
To top it off, it was Spiderman.
Yes the Spiderman.
On your balcony.
You instantly checked the costumed figure over for any signs of bleeding. You couldn’t very well check for injuries with the way the suit covered everything.
Well not everything.
It seemed, before passing out, Spiderman had the sense to remove his mask. Your eyes widened as you saw his face in the fairy lights you had strewn across the balcony railing.
He was young, and if you were to judge correctly, he looked to be about your age. He was breathing rather rapidly, and you couldn’t help but feel a bubble of concern rise within your chest as you knelt down next to him. You whispered his name, your hand slowly coming to rest against his forehead. A startled gasp left your lips once you felt just how hot his skin was.
Immediately you felt your instincts kick in. Wrapping an arm around his waist, and guiding his to wrap around your shoulders, you managed to lift him up and half-dragged him inside your room. Thank goodness your balcony was adjacent to your room.
During your little trip, he barely stirred, and you could feel the heat from his fever against your own body, causing you to frown in concern. As you laid him down on your bed, he was hit with a coughing fit, one that had him curling up on his side as each cough seemed to wreck his entire body. All you could do was thump his back lightly, trying your best to reassure him somehow.
Once the cough subsided, you quickly poured him a glass of water. He seemed to have gained some consciousness, as he gulped down the water greedily when you pressed the glass to his lips. His eyes were still closed, and sweat had begun to line his skin as he fell back against your soft pillows once more.
His breathing was deep, and you couldn’t help but feel dread settle into your stomach as you quickly grabbed the thermometer gun from your bathroom cabinet and took his temperature.
He was running a rather high fever, and from the way he breathed through his mouth rather then his nose, told you that perhaps he had a cold as well. You just hoped it was nothing more then that. If it was anything serious, how would you get him to a doctor. You couldn’t just walk into a clinic with a boy in a Spiderman costume and ask to see the doctor.
Besides, you doubted he would want anyone to know who he was.
So you decided to tackle this situation yourself.
With newfound determination, you quickly went into your kitchen and within minutes you were whipping up some chicken noodle soup. You always bought the ones that came in cups and only needed some hot water. You didn’t have time to make one from scratch. You also grabbed some medicine for fever and cold from your bathroom cupboard and made your way back to your surprise patient.
Setting the tray down, you leaned over the still figure. You wish you knew his name, as you gently shook his shoulder and whispered.
“Hey, I brought you some soup and medicine. You should eat something.” You urged softly. Thankfully, he stirred, mumbling something under his breath as his eyelids flickered. You had made sure to only keep the light of the lamp on, so it was a little dark in the room.
“Gwen?” He mumbled, even that one word slurring slightly as he tried his best to sit up. “You’re here.”
Gwen? Who was she? His girlfriend maybe? Whatever, if he thought she was Gwen, maybe she could get him to sit up and eat. And though you didn’t like lying, you knew it was necessary. So you smiled softly at him and nodded. “Yeah! I’m here. Come on, sit up for me and eat.”
He barely had any strength to do that himself, but you helped him sit up, propping multiple pillows behind him as you did. He barely opened his eyes once, making you wander if perhaps his eyes felt hot and heavy because of the fever. He sniffed, confirming your suspicion of him having a cold.
Since he made no move to pick up the soup bowl, you settled the tray onto your lap, and slowly began to spoon the broth into his waiting mouth. You couldn’t help but let your eyes wander over his face as you fed him. He was handsome, in an adorable kind of way. His brown hair stuck out in all directions, but that was probably because he had been wearing the mask for a long time. During the entire feeding session, he did not say anything, but he did manage to finish the whole bowl, making you wander just how hungry he had been.
Once done, he let his head fall back against the pillows. “So tired.” He whispered hoarsely. You nodded. “Thats alright, you can go to sleep once you’ve had some medicine.” You quickly held the two pills out for him to take. A covered hand slowly took the pills, placing them inside his mouth which he then chased down by drinking an entire glass of water.
Satisfied you made to pick up the dirty dishes when his hand darted out to grasp your wrist. You let out a gasp of surprise, eyes dropping to his hand, before lifting to meet his near desperate gaze.
“Stay.” He whispered in such a broken tone that you couldn’t help but feel your own heart ache for the poor thing.
Nodding, you set the dishes back down. “I’ll stay.” You promised, your wrist sliding out of his hand only so you could wrap both your hands around his, holding it between your palms as you sat down on the bed next to him. He gave a sleepily smile, eyes already closing as the medicine began to kick in.
Once he was asleep, you couldn’t find it in your heart to leave, so you fell asleep right beside him, propped up against the headboard, something that you would come to regret the next morning.
ACHOO!
A loud sneeze was what startled you awake the next morning. Instantly your back protested from where it had been against the wooden headboard the entire night. You blinked in the light of the morning sun as it streamed through your still open balcony. It was another blustery autumn day, which meant lots of wind.
Which could not be good for your patient.
Events from last night flooded your brain and you quickly stood up to check on your patient. Who seemed to have woken himself up by sneezing. You quickly shut the balcony door, cutting off the cold air. Once his little sneezing fit was over, Spiderman managed to blink away whatever sleep was left in his eyes and assessed the room around him.
You watched as his gaze darted from one object to the next, before finally finding your still figure next to the balcony door. Giving a sheepish grin you gave a little wave. “Hi.”
The hero lifted a hand to his head, rubbing his temples. “Is this a dream? Am I dreaming?” He asked, his voice still nasally. It seemed he was still fighting his cold. You gave a sympathetic smile as you shook your head. “No, not a dream. I found you passed out on my balcony. You had a high fever and I brought you in.” Reaching out you pressed your hand against his forehead. “Well your fever is down from what it was last night.”
Your gaze met his, and you quickly realized just how blatantly you were touching him. Without his permission. Your eyes met his, the surprise of the situation clearly written across his face. A horrified look overcame your features as you quickly pulled your hand back. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry! I shouldn’t have…..” Your eyes dropped to the temperature gun, which you quickly lifted and aimed at his forehead. “Your fever has gone down, guess the medicines worked.”
With a groan, he moved to stand up, but it seemed he wasn’t steady on his feet, as he seemed to stumble would’ve fallen if you hadn’t reached out to catch him. “Easy. Easy.” You whispered in a soothing voice, helping him sit back down. “You still have a fever, and I’m sure that cold isn’t helping with your head.” Your eyes assessed his face for a few brief seconds before you looked away.
“I know this is not the most ideal situation, but I won’t mind if you stay here and recover. And if you do stay here, it will help put my mind at ease as well. Otherwise I’d probably end up chewing my fingernails off with worry.” You admitted with an awkward laugh. Spiderman continued to stare at you with those big brown eyes. You could feel a blush starting to creep along your skin as you nervously fidgeted in place.
“H-how about I fix us some breakfast? And I can get you a change of clothes if you’d like Spiderman?” You continued to babble, moving to the dresser that stood against a wall. You were sure you had a couple baggy shirts and a pair of sweatpants that would fit him.
“Peter.”
You spun around, eyes wide, the shock and surprise clearly written on your face as you stared at him. He offered you a small smile from where he sat on the bed. “My name is Peter.”
Slowly, a bright yet shy smile pulled at your lips as you gave a small nod. “I’m Y/n.” You quickly introduced yourself. There was a moment of silence, where the two of you simply looked at one another, before you cleared your throat and turned retrieved the appropriate clothes.
“Here, you get changed, while I make breakfast. Just try to move slowly.” You advised as you held the clothes out for him to take. “Fresh towels are in the cupboard beside the sink. And if you need any help, just yell for me alright?”
His lips parted, as if he were about to say something. But whatever it was got lost along the way, as a loud sneeze echoed in the room, prompting you to give a sympathetic laugh and hand him a tissue.
“Bless you.” With that you stepped out of the room to make the hero some breakfast.
Spiderman, Peter, stayed at your place for a couple days. Once the fever had gone down, the sneezing had increased tenfold, and you had to make two runs to the store at the corner of the street to get some more tissues. Peter had been extremely apologetic about making you work, but you waved him off.
“You keep the entire city safe and barely get a thank you, I think I can buy a couple rolls of tissues for you.” You had teased him, prompting a grin to pull at his lips.
The first day he mostly spent resting and sleeping, recovering from the toll the fever had taken on his body. On the second day he was well enough to sit up and speak to you.
He explained how he had started to feel dizzy while swinging near your apartment building and knowing he was about to faint, he had swung down on your balcony, before passing out.
“Well lucky for you I’m used to having injured or sick strays come across my balcony. You aren’t the first one I’ve brought in to help. Though you are the first person, and hopefully my last.” He had laughed at that, before asking you to relay the past patients you had had over the months you had lived at the apartment.
The two of you had talked almost non-stop and it was at your insistence that he rest that he got a few hours of sleep during midday.
‘You know its been a long time since I spoke to someone like this.“ He said on the third night of his stay. He was looking much better, and had even managed a shower earlier. "Don’t tell me you don’t have any friends.” You teased, setting down a fresh cup of hot tea and handing one to him. He took it with a smile and shrugged.
“I do, but I’m not that close with them. Honestly, I was only ever close to one person.” He admitted, looking down at the liquid in the cup. “Who?” You asked, settling at the foot of the bed as Coral curled up into your lap.
Peter cleared his throat before taking a small sip of his tea. “Her name was Gwen.” Your eyes widened and you gave a nod. “Yeah, you did mention her once or twice when I was bringing you inside. And when I was feeding you the soup.” Suddenly, the use of past tense registered in your brain and you frowned.
“Wait, was?” You asked, a feeling of dread settling in your stomach at what he would say next.
Where there had been laughter just moments ago, there was now a deep soul-aching sorrow as he met your gaze and gave a small sad smile. “She died. A couple years ago.” He admitted with a catch in his voice.
“Oh.” You couldn’t help reach out and grasp his hand, giving it a squeeze. “I’m so sorry Peter.” You whispered. He looked back up at you, and this time neither of you looked away for a long time.
He left after five days.
No goodbye, no seeing him off. Just a small post it note that said he would visit soon.
You kept the note on the shade of your bedside lamp, to remind yourself that what had happened wasn’t a dream.
Since that day, Peter had dropped by your apartment many times. His place was just a couple blocks away from your own, but he would mostly drop by after patrolling the city. The two of you would sit on the balcony, share a beverage and talk.
It became such a regular occurrence that you actually bought a couple of recliners and installed a cute awning above the balcony so the two of you could have some shade if it ever rained. And you added some potted flowers as well. It was all very picturesque and magical, and you had blushed with pleasure when Peter had commented on it.
The one time he came back with a bleeding lip, bruised cheekbone and a cut on his forehead, you added a first aid kit to your list of necessities as well. You had patched him up and when he jokingly said you should kiss it better, you caught yourself by surprise when you actually leaned in and quickly kissed his cheek.
The two of you could barely stop smiling and blushing as you sat side by side, simply basking in one another’s presence. At one point you felt his fingers brush against your own, and you allowed him to take your hand and interlock your fingers together.
A few months after first meeting Peter, you were anxiously pacing the small balcony. According to the news Spiderman had to face off against a rather deadly villain, and from the reports it didn’t seem good. You were worried out of your mind, and had sent Peter a message to come to the balcony if he could once he was done dealing with the villain.
Finally feeling tired, you allowed your body to drop into one of the recliners, your eyelids heavy with sleep. And despite your best efforts to keep them open, you slowly began to drift off.
The brush of a hand against your cheek startled you awake, and your eyes blinked open to stare up at the injured yet smiling figure of Peter Parker. “Hey Nightingale.” He greeted, using the nickname he had given you on account of your always taking care of him. He had actually named you after a famous nurse.
You let out a sound of utter relief as you jumped from your seat and wrapped your arms around him. And as you embraced him, you couldn’t help yourself as you pressed your lips against his. He caught you as if he had been expecting you, matching the enthusiasm of your kiss, which was the epitome of sweet, gentle yet deep, charged with every ounce of emotion the two of you felt.
And though you would later tell him off for worrying you like that, and he would apologize and hug you while wiping away your tears, for now the two of you were utterly content.