Chapter Text
The first time it happened, Peter hadn't seen it coming.
He had been in his room, curled on his side when suddenly, his head began to ache. Weird, but it wasn't bad, so he figured he would sleep it off. His healing factor would aid him there, it always did.
Except, when he woke up for school the next morning, he felt worse. His senses are heightened normally, but this- This is painful.
...Weird.
Oh well, Peter thinks, the show must go on.
So he gets ready. He takes a shower, brushes his teeth, gets dressed, eats a banana for breakfast- His usual routine. Somehow, he feels like throwing up after one measly banana. He really isn't sure where the nausea is coming from, but it's really the cherry on top of his cake of pain.
He lets out a sigh, steadies himself, and slings his bag over his shoulder. He has a bus to catch.
Throughout the school day, Peter only gets worse. He doesn't know how that's possible. Whatever is wrong, it should be fixing itself. It just isn't.
To make matters worse, Flash was really being an asshole today. He'd insulted Peter's shoes, called him a liar when he overheard Peter speaking to Ned about his internship at Stark Industries—Which was technically fake, but Peter does actually go there after school most days to work in the labs, either alone or with Mr. Stark, so he's cutting himself some slack there—and then proceeded to accidentally trip him on his way to the bathroom.
(Peter honestly didn't have an excuse for letting that happen. His senses are all dialed up to eleven, so his "Peter-tingle", as Aunt May has dubbed it, didn't notice it like it normally would. The blaring tick of the clock had drowned out his sense for danger, and he had fallen right onto the tile floor, unable to catch himself.)
It's the third passing period of the day, and Peter just got out of his AP chemistry class. He only has three minutes until he needs to be on the other side of the building for English, and it usually takes two to walk there with the hallways as crowded as they are, so he isn't exactly trying to test his luck.
"Peter?" Ned calls, bringing Peter back to reality. "You good, dude? You let Flash trip you in class earlier. What was that about?"
Peter sighs, bringing his hands up to cover his face. "Sorry, Ned. I'm fine, just- A little overwhelmed, is all. My head hurts and I can, like- Smell colors, man. I can hear everything, and it's just... A lot."
Ned frowns at him. "Do you need to go to the nurse's office? I'm sure if you called May, you could-"
"Aw, is Penis not feeling well? Gonna go cry to your auntie about your little tummy ache?" Flash cuts in, nudging Peter's shoulder with more force than necessary. A group of students around them laughs along, and Flash smirks.
"Leave me alone, Flash," Peter breathes out. He's really not in the mood to deal with Flash today.
Flash laughs, glancing around at the crowd of students. "Oh, you want to be left alone? Is that it? What are you gonna do if I don't, Penis?"
"Fuck off, Flash, Jesus Christ!" Peter snaps, turning around to glare at Flash. He's overcome by a sense of rage, anger flowing hot through his veins as he clenches his fists at his sides. Don't hit him, don't hit him, Peter repeats in his head. "Could you quit being a jerk for once in your sorry life?!"
Flash falters, his smirk falling. He seems genuinely taken aback. Quiet murmurs follow through the circle of students around them. To be fair, none of them have ever seen Peter get this mad. In a second, however, Flash regains his composure, clearing his throat.
"You've got balls today, Parker," He says, his best attempt to be menacing. The one minute warning bell sounds as Peter glowers at Flash. The crowd of students is dissipating as the time to get to class ticks down. Flash doesn't exactly want to be late, either, so he huffs.
"You're not worth my time." With that, Flash walks away, as do the other students.
Peter groans, resisting the urge to throw a punch. He really is in pain. He turns back to Ned and frowns. "I... Guess we could try the nurse's office. I want to go home," he admits quietly.
Ned hesitates, then nods, placing his hand on Peter's back. "Yeah, yeah- Let's go," He says, leading Peter to the nurse's office. Peter allows his shoulders to slump, following his friend.
The nurse had called May. After a moment of speaking to his aunt, she handed the phone to Peter.
There's nothing wrong with Peter, not with his vitals at least, but he's clearly not feeling well. Peter doesn't want to miss school, but the pain is becoming unbearable. It's weird, though. His wrists are aching, and his gums are too. His head and senses are still the worst of it.
May seems worried, over the phone. Peter tells her it isn't that bad, and that she doesn't have to come get him if she doesn't want to. She's adamant about coming to pick Peter up- The fact that he doesn't protest much is what tells her that it's bad.
Peter waits another twenty minutes before he's called for dismissal. Ned had brought his bag to him, thankfully, so he didn't have to leave the nurse's office until that point.
May is waiting for him outside of the school, a frown on her face. It seems that's all Peter's been getting today.
"Are you okay?" She immediately asks, tracking Peter's movements as he climbs into the passenger seat to see if he's injured. He has a nasty habit of hiding his Spider-Man-sustained injuries, and May wouldn't rule one out as the cause of Peter's sudden sickness. "Do you need anything? Food, water, Ibuprofen? Wait, no, I forgot pain medication doesn't work on you anymore, sorry. Um- Would an ice pack be good? Or a heating pad?"
Peter waves a hand of dismissal. He loves his aunt, and he's glad that she cares, but May's concerned words are only making his headache worse. "It's fine, Aunt May. I'll just drink some water when we get home, and I'll- Take a nap, I guess. Try to sleep it off."
May sighs. "Okay, Pete. As long as you think you'll be alright... You're not hiding any injuries that could be causing this, though, right? Because-"
"No, Aunt May. I promise, this just came out of nowhere... But it'll be fine. I think. Probably." Peter chews on his bottom lip anxiously, letting out a quiet gasp when he pierces the skin. The taste of copper fills his mouth, and his senses sharpen. It's like the blood caused him to hyper-focus, and the next thing he knows, his head isn't killing him anymore.
"Peter? Why did you gasp, are you okay? Oh, sweetheart, your lip is bleeding, here-" May searches around the car for a napkin as Peter sits there, breathing heavily.
"Aunt May," he starts weakly, "I- My senses just got all... Focused. I don't- I don't know why, but they're all- They don't hurt anymore. They're not overwhelming me, they're just- Really... Tuned-in? I think? I don't know how to- Explain it..." he breathes out.
"Oh, Pete. I think you should see Tony about this. Or, I don't know, uh- Dr. Banner? Maybe they'll know what this is," May suggests, handing Peter a crumpled napkin, turning the car to Stark Tower.
"No, that's- Not necessary, Aunt May. I promise. We can just- Go home, and forget about all this, and I can- Sleep... It off. I can sleep it off."
"Peter."
"Really, Aunt May, it's fine, I just- It's not even that bad anymore! I can deal with this, my headache- It's not that bad. I- Can work with it. Sleeping will help."
"Peter."
"...Okay. Let's go see Mr. Stark. And Dr. Banner if he's there..." Peter breathes out.
May smiles. "I'm glad you agree with me."