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It was a surprisingly mild afternoon before everything went to hell.
“Fuck! I need a doctor here!” A man clad in black and armed with guns bursts in the ER doors, clutching an unconscious man in spandex covered in blood.
“Sir, I will need you to– JESUS MARY AND JOSEPH!” Dana drops her cup of coffee spotting what looks like the real spiderman in the stranger’s arms.
And she thought everything was going too well.
“Emma, get a gurney please! And someone for the love of God, call Robby NOW!”
——
Peter woke up feeling like he’s scuba diving under water. His mind scrambles to the last thing he saw before he passed out: Jean panic-sobbing before a very distressed Frank immediately grabbing him like a sack of potatoes.
Yeah. This was definitely worse than him getting hit by a garbage truck speeding down the highway.
He slowly tries to open his eyes, quickly adjusting to a set of bright lights shining above him. Wait, why is this exposingly bright?
Peter jumps into consciousness, his eyes now adjusting to the environment and further realizing that he’s hooked up in a lot of tubes and fluids, he’s wearing a hospital gown, and he’s no longer wearing his suit including the mask.
“Hey! Uh… Mr. Spiderman…? Sir, please calm down or else the IVs are going to rip out of you…” A doctor with tired looking eyes awkwardly pats his back, trying to ease him back.
“Shit! Where am I? Who are you?” Peter honest to god squeaks out, bows his head and covers his hands as a very failed attempt to hide himself.
“Dude, I need you to relax. The whole hospital has seen your face already when we had to operate you back to life.” Another voice chirped out, seemingly a woman beside the doctor with tired eyes.
“What? The whole hospital?” Peter looks up, no longer unable to hide the rising panic that’s evident in his face (and his heart monitor which is rapidly beeping faster.)
“I’m so sorry for that, please calm down. I’m Dr. Whitaker and what Dr. Santos meant to say,” the man– Dr. Whitaker, softly nudges Dr. Santos. “You’re currently in Pittsburgh Trauma Medical Center, and the ER staff that treated you were the only ones who saw your identity.”
Santos directs a grin at him, raising a thumbs up.
“One hell of a bullet man, if you weren’t some sort of superhuman, that would’ve taken you out. Also, after your operation, we covered your face with a towel before transferring you immediately in this private room to keep your whole privacy. Plus, your friend was downright threatening us if we sell you out to the public.”
Peter perks up at that. “Do you mean a scary looking man with weapons?” Whitaker nods. “Yeah, he just left to uh… shoo off some persistent reporters lurking outside the halls.” Frank. He thinks, relieved to not be left alone immediately. Peter clears his throat and looks at his two doctors.
“Great… um… listen, I’m really grateful for you Doctor Santos and Doctor Whitaker, for saving my life but I really don’t have the funds to really stay here, so can you get the discharge papers for me to leave?” Peter pleads with his hands, only to be met by two doctors staring at him dumbfoundedly.
“You seriously think we’d let Spiderman himself die with tons of hospital debt?” Dr. Santos asks him, exasperated.
“Well, Spiderman is being killed with rent and student debt so hospital bills won’t be new.” Peter lightly jokes, earning a snort from Whitaker.
“Amen to that brother. But don’t worry, they’ve got you covered. You being the beloved hero and everything. All you need to do is get well soon, Mr. Spiderman.” Whitaker nods.
“Soo…. Can I get discharged tomorrow then? Since crime doesn’t stop at all….” Both Whitaker and Santos share a look before shake their heads simultaneously.
“Man, did you realize you were already knocking on death's door only hours ago? You at least need two weeks before we can properly let you off to swing the concrete jungle where dreams are made of.”
“Are you seriously referencing Empire State of Mind to Spiderman?” Whitaker chuckles as he’s examining Peter’s vitals at his side. Peter coughs.
“In case you forgot, I have superhealing as well. It’s part of the whole Spiderman thing.” He offers a soft reassuring smile. Dr. Santos considers him for a moment before sighing.
“Well then you’ll have to plead your superhealing case to everyone as well,” Dr. Santos nods at him before tugging Whitaker’s sleeves. “Anyways, your vitals have been stable so far. Huckleberry and I over here will be off for a bit to check on our other patients.”
“Oh don’t worry about me. But can I at least get my mask back just in case?”
Dr. Whitaker replies that they’ll try to find it before they scurry out the room.
——
A few moments after the two doctors left, Frank Castle drops by carrying gifts and letters some fans insisted he give to the masked vigilante. They make some small talk establishing their new friendship and Peter attempting (and failing) to get discharged once again.
“Listen, I have some things I need to take care of, but let your ass recover here, okay? The doctors here are nice and I’ve taken precautions to keep the whole identity shit you’ve been trying to maintain.”
“Never thought you’d go soft on me, Frank.” Peter grins, to which his friend simply half heartedly growls before waving him off. “Call me if you need anything.” With that, he leaves Peter alone by himself.
Despite the whole physical and emotional turmoil he went through from the past day, he doesn’t feel tired enough to go take a nap yet. So, Peter tries to busy himself with eating some cheap convenience store chocolates and reading get well soon cards (he gets teary at a letter from a five year old with an attempt at drawing his mask and a “Get well soon Mr. Spidey!” written below it) from the pile Frank brought.
He’s in his fourth box of chocolate when there’s knocking outside the door. “Good evening, it’s Dr. Abbot, the night shift attending. May I come in?”
Peter hurriedly gets a knitted red and blue beanie from the pile and shoves it down his head to completely cover half of his face before muffling “come in” at Dr. Abbot. He softly enters the room and clicks the door closed before approaching him.
“Relax kid, I already saw your face earlier.” For a second, he doubts the man before he rationalizes that his senses should be already warning him if he’s in danger right now. He slowly tugs the beanie up to normal height and is faced with a mature man in scrubs.
“You’re quite young, Spiderman. How old are you, eighteen?” Peter straightens up his seating.
“I’m 22, sir.” The doctor smiles and pats the bed. “At ease, Spiderman. Doctor Abbot or Jack is fine. Sir reminds me of the military. How are you feeling?”
“Oh uh,” Peter scratches his head, stretching out the tension in his arms. He tries to stand up, but his legs feel like wiggly jello and there’s a lingering ache on his chest. “I don’t think my healing factor is working right.” He sheepishly replies.
“Maybe that’s your body telling you to take a break. God knows we want that too down at the Pitt,” Dr. Abbot chuckles. “Would painkillers help? Ibuprofen?”
“Well, yeah, but factoring in my fast metabolism, I don’t think it would last that long. I’ll still take it if you have one though.” Abbot rummages his pockets then tosses a blister pack of pills. Peter catches it immediately.
“Hm… Take this every three to four hours. If things get worse, do us a favor and ring the bell, will you? We’re currently swamped at the ER as well.”
Peter blinks. “Are there people hurt?” because of me getting left out from Peter’s voice, but Dr. Abbot understood him anyway. He waves him off, dismissing his unsaid thoughts. “No, a lot of them are quite fine actually,” Abbot flashes him an amused grin. “Got a lot of people pretending to be sick just to catch a glimpse of a certain arachnid friend.”
“I’m sorry?” Peter meekly replies.
“Don’t be. It’s not your fault. A lot of people just care about you, Spidey. If your family and friends are worried about you, maybe we could let them in here discreetly.” Abbot warmly offers him.
“Oh. um.” Peter fidgets in his place. “I really don’t have a lot of people right now… they’re a bit busy with their own… lives…” He whispers out, his mind trying to supply reasonable explanations.
Abbot frowns.
“They’re busy?”
“Well in a way… yeah. Don’t worry about me though! I’ll be fine, I might uh call my friends in uni later.” Peter offers an awkward smile not really reaching his eyes.
“Well if you need any company, I’m sure we’re not as boring as you’d think we are.” Abbot replies kindly, ruffling his hair like a father would for his son. Was he that lonely to seek comfort in his doctor? Peter sighs inwardly. But Doctor Abbot sure is comforting.
“Thanks Dr. Abbot, I’m sure we could find our common topic like how to clean blood stains from clothes.” Peter lightly jokes to brighten the mood.
“Yeah, that topic is good. I think you and Whitaker would find that interesting.” Abbot smirks, patting his back before retreating towards the door. “Listen, Spiderman, I think you’re a good kid. If you ever need anything, just call, alright? The principal attending Dr. Robinavitch would be checking on you tomorrow, so catch up on your Zzzs tonight.”
At the same time, Peter takes a big yawn. Perhaps he’ll take that offer.
——
Well, Peter did try to sleep.
However, seeing that he is technically in critical condition, there are occasional doctors and nurses in the middle of the night who would knock and check on him. He appreciates how they’re all respectful about the whole identity thing, but getting woken up in hour intervals and doing the whole small talk routine was getting tiring, even for him. Top it all off with his senses trying to go overdrive as the hours pass.
“Hi, it’s Dr. Mel King. I’m coming in to check on your heart monitors.”
Given the current circumstances, Peter’s grateful that Dr. Mel just went ahead inside without waiting for his response.
The doctor went in, purely all business, pushing some buttons and updating his charts on a tablet. Once she was satisfied, she turned his attention to him. She tries to approach him, but hesitates and chooses to stand at the side and fiddle with her hands.
“Sorry, I understand the hospital can be overwhelming and you look like you really need some rest. You’ve been quite stable for the past few hours, and I think we have remote access to some of your essential vitals in the station. I’ll dim the lights and let them know to check on you again after a few hours.”
“Appreciate it, Dr. King.” He musters up a soft reply while his eyelids are threatening to close shut. Mel nods at him before exiting the room.
He breathes a sigh of relief once the bright lights stop overwhelming his senses. He’ll be sure to be extra nice to Dr. King when he wakes up.
——
True to her word, nobody entered the room (at least, to his knowledge?) until the morning and Peter did not suffer from any life threatening seizures during the rest of the night as well.
He wakes up in the morning, feeling mildly refreshed and his stomach rumbling softly. He remembers all of the doctors and nurses telling him to press the button for help, but he’s internally debating whether him being mildly hungry is a good reason to disturb the hospital staff any further.
His stomach protests at that.
Great. His stomach can’t read the room. So Peter reluctantly presses the call button once and prays that he didn’t catch the hospital at a bad time just for his need for food.
Someone’s knocking on the door.
“Come in!” Peter shouts.
A nurse in braids enters the room with a bright smile. “Hello, Spiderman! It’s nice to finally meet you when you’re awake. I’m Princess, one of the nurses tending to you. What can I do for you, ‘nak?”
“I’m sorry, is there any way I could ask for food? Anything would be fine.” He sheepishly asks.
“Well there are some egg sandwiches from the hospital, but those aren’t any good,” Princess hums, her arms crossed and fingers tapping against them in thought.
“I’m not a picky eater! I don’t mind stale sandwiches or anything, my stomach's quite enduring.” Peter immediately replies. He leaves out the part where he could eat expired ramen he bought at a clearance rack from the dollar store. Yeah, that might sound sad and concerning.
“Oh, I actually bought some food from home! Wait here.” Before Peter could protest from the thought of getting the supposed lunch of his nurse, Princess was already bolting the room, seemingly excited. Peter bows his head on his hands and sighs in defeat.
A few minutes later, Princess comes back with another nurse holding 2 tupperwares of food and a set of plates and utensils.
“Hey, I hope you don’t mind that I brought reinforcements. This is Perla, also one of your nurses when you were asleep.” Princess points her arms at Perla, to which the other waves at him warmly.
“I heard that there is a food crisis happening in your room. Hope you like Filipino food.” Perla says, setting up the adjustable tables for Peter to eat on his bed.
“I don’t want to be the one to eat your lunch, especially as you guys are working extremely hard for your patients.” He tries to move the table away softly, embarrassed of imposing himself on the two nurses. Princess swats his hands away as she places the tupperwares neatly in front of him.
“Nonsense, you’re a growing kid who deserves good food more than cold bread. Seeing you eat well would make us happy.” Perla answers, opening the food containers. Peter gets a waft of a familiar savory pork stew, making him drool. His desire to eat a home cooked meal slowly overpowering his will to politely deny the two nurses.
“Come on, eat!” Princess offers him a spoon.
As they say, you shouldn’t turn down a blessing right?
Peter gingerly accepts the spoon, hesitantly scooping down pieces of meat on his plate. He slices the meat into smaller pieces before taking a bite.
He remembers eating with Ned after a whole afternoon of building legos. Ned’s family insists he stay for dinner despite his initial shyness. His lola serves them the same dish during dinnertimes as they trade their stories and adventures for the day.
God, he misses Ned so much.
“Fuck, Perla, we made Spiderman cry!” Princess cries out, reaching for a clean napkin in her pocket before handing it to Peter who was silently shedding tears as he chews. “I’m sorry ‘nak, is the Adobo too spicy? Can I get you water or anything?”
“No, no it’s delicious, thank you Ms. Princess. It’s just,” Peter wetly laughs while the nurses rub circles in his back to gently let him continue. “I have had this friend a long time ago,” His voice goes soft, avoiding his gaze from the two people. “And whenever I visit his home and stay for dinner, his lola cooks adobo. Eating this just reminds me of him a lot… I miss my friend.”
Perla approaches to give him a hug which he gladly returns back. “Gosh, you remind me of my own nephews at home. You’re too handsome for your own good to cry, hm? I’m sure your friend must miss you too. Hala, just eat more, Spiderman, okay?” She gently nudges him to his plate.
“Hm, how about we share with you some of the stories here in the ER while you’re eating, to lighten up the mood. Do you know, Dr. Robby….” Princess starts.
Peter finds himself listening closely despite having little to no clue of the who’s and what’s of the happenings in the ER.
——
“Thank you nurse Perla, nurse Princess, the food was delicious. As well as the chisme.” Peter smiles at them, shaking their hands.
“Well, cooking and gossip is our specialty.” Princess jokes, making them all giggle.
“Yes, 5 star cooking, seriously. If you ever change careers someday, I think I’d love to visit your restaurant. Name it Gossip Girls even.” Peter says, saluting. The giggles die down after a few seconds before Perla takes his hand gently.
“We’re not changing careers anytime soon, sorry. But you’re welcome to visit our home and eat with us anytime, if you’re comfortable with that. I’ll even cook more for you to take home and share with your friend.” Her eyes crinkle, smiling.
“Thank you. Maybe when I’m better I could drop by the ER sometimes to bring food of my own and eat with you guys during breaks. And maybe update me on the whole situation here at Pitt.” Peter winks.
The door suddenly creaks open without a warning.
“Hello, Mr. Spiderman.” A man who looks to be around Dr. Abbot’s age peaks in. Perla and Princess straighten up their posture a bit.
“Oh, Dr. Robby! Was Dana looking for us? We’re just about to go.” Princess greets. Dr. Robby shakes his head. “No, I’m just here to check up on our resident hero. I’m coming in, Mr. Spiderman, if you don’t mind.”
“No, not at all. Dr. Abbot also told me you’d be here.” Peter says, signalling for him to go in. Him, Princess, and Perla share some pleasantries as they pack up the containers. Robby patiently waits for them to finish up then tells the two nurses a few orders before letting them scurry outside.
“So, Mr. Spiderman, how long have you in this line of business?” Robby asks him as he brings out his stethoscope and drags a small stool beside his bed to sit in.
Peter shrugs. “7 years, give or take.” The doctor turns to him, raising his eyebrows. “Oh? You’d fit nicely as a doctor as well.” Dr. Robby places the diaphragm to his back and prompts him to breathe slowly. He followed his orders, taking a glance at his doctor while he was concentrating.
Him and Dr. Abbot shares the same kind of mature vibe. The way they move through the whole process makes it seem like it’s already a second nature deeply etched in their daily systems. It’s evident they’ve been through a lot of experiences in the hospital probably as early as Peter’s beginning to learn the alphabet. However, Dr. Robby somehow looks more.. tired and worn-out.
He reminds him of a certain mentor he’d lost years ago.
“Dr. Robby, are you okay?” He asks.
The doctor removes the diaphragm from his back and looks at him. “Yeah kid. I’m not the one lying down on a hospital bed.” Robby gave him a lopsided grin. Peter remains silent, thinking about what to reply. He runs a few more physical examinations.
“You just seem tired, that's all.” Peter honestly says. “This is what decades being in ER medicine does to you.” Dr. Robby points out, getting up from his seat.
“No I understand. Well, maybe not as a doctor but… the weight and responsibility of helping people, you know? I admire doctors like you who save people all the time.” Peter replies back.
“Well, that’s the thing. We can’t always save everybody.” Dr. Robby’s voice lowers.
“But we do try anyway, right?” Peter offers. The doctor looks up and gives him a small smile. “Ofcourse. Rest up, Spiderman. I’m no superhuman, but I’m sure we can help you go back out there.”
——
His day in the hospital flew by. Doctors and nurses would go in his room and check in on him and occasionally chat. He’s visited by Dr. Santos and Dr. King during the afternoon, followed by Perla with some snacks in the evening, then Dr. Abbot again before he taps out to sleep.
By morning the next day, Peter’s at least 90% sure that he already met the full medical team, until Dr. Whitaker drops by alongside a new face. It’s a doctor as well, Peter concludes from the stranger having a stethoscope hanging idly on her purple jacket.
“Hi, I’m Victoria Javadi. MS4.” Javadi grins at him, enthusiastically shaking his hand. “And I’m Spiderman without the uh… mask.” Peter accepts the handshake.
“Javadi wanted to join me, if you don’t mind.” Dr. Whitaker says with a smile, nervously scratching the back of his nape.
“Well, you know the rules. Don’t spread my identity out there and we’re good.” He cooly replies. Peter should probably be more careful, but at this point, he’s sure most of the hospital people he’s met are all chill.
Victoria scoffs. “As if I’d go ahead and dox the Spiderman.”
“See, we’ve got a fan.” Whitaker teases her, earning a frown. “Shut up!” Victoria bumps her shoulder against him.
“You guys close?” Peter asks, amused. Victoria makes an “eh” sound. It was Whitaker’s turn to bump his shoulders at him. “Hey, you just hung out with Trin and I in the apartment last week!”
Victoria shrugs him off and turns his attention back to him. “So, Mr. Spiderman, how are you?”
Peter stretches his body before attempting to stand up. His leg wobbles a bit (probably from being bed rest for a day) before he steadies himself.
“I’d say I’m doing pretty good. I think I could walk out right now, you know.” Peter grins, giving a thumbs up.
Victoria’s eyes widened. “That’s so cool. So like, if you get a huge paper cut, how long does it take to heal?”
Peter takes a minute to answer. To be fair, his main reference point would not be a paper cut, but instead it’s him getting “lightly stabbed” by a butter knife (geeze, robbers these days, at least a sharper knife would do a smoother job). He remembers cleaning it before he slept it off for hours to be awakened good as new. “Hm, it depends. But I’d say 10 mins or less.”
“How did you even get your powers? Got involved in a government child experiment gone wrong, or something?” Victoria asks.
“No! A bit more boring, actually. A radioactive spider from a field trip bit me then poof.” Peter makes small jazz hands toward himself. Victoria looks visibly disappointed.
“Wow. I expected more from your origin story, to be honest.” Peter laughs. He certainly didn’t expect the disappointed reaction from Victoria. But then again, it’s somehow comforting, considering that it makes him feel less of an untouchable “celebrity” and more human.
“Sorry, was that offensive?” Victoria sheepishly asks. Peter shakes his head.
“Nah, it’s just the first time I heard.” Peter smiles. Victoria quirks her head. “And the spider webbing is your own creation, right? I think I’ve seen clips of you throwing those little ‘web bombs’ that explode.” Peter nods.
“Yeah, I could make them,” Peter doesn’t bother disclosing that he could actually naturally produce them now. Even he was slightly weirded out by that, and he’s amazed Peter 2 was so chill about it.
“Sorry for asking this again Dr. Whitaker, but could I actually get discharged today?” Peter stirs the subject. As dusty and hazardous his current living situation is, he’s missing the comfort of his own bed. He’s also itching to upgrade E.V to accommodate his arachnid hormones and such.
“I think Dr. Robby can get you discharged today but we’re still dealing with a lot of your fans at the moment.” Whitaker replies, subtly pointing his head toward the windows.
“I think I could swing out discreetly from the rooftop?” Peter offers, which Victoria shakes his head. “A lot of media outlets are currently around as well. I bet your best friend from the bugle’s hunting you down too.”
Peter winces. Oh, if he only has his whole suit right now, that would make his exit less complicated.
“Your suit was badly damaged when you came in,” Oh, he said that out loud? Oops. “Well, except for your mask. I cleaned it at home, if you don’t mind.” Whitaker rummages in his pocket, showing him his all too familiar creation. He hopes the doctor didn’t notice his zigzag stitching at the back.
Peter tries to put it back on his head, comforted by the familiar feel of the mask hugging his face. He notes a faint lavender smell. He raises his head towards Victoria who was looking between him and Whitaker interchangeably.
“I think I have an idea how to get you out of here, Spiderman. Huckleberry, get your extra scrubs and Dr. Robby here. ” Victoria grins.
——
“Okay, I think you’re good to go.” Dr. Robby says, crossing his arms. Peter fidgets in the clothes given to him. Whitaker’s extra scrubs were a bit tight on his biceps and his pants were a bit too short for his build, but it was surprisingly a good fit. Peter turns to look at Whitaker, who’s holding his mask.
“Are we sure about this?” Dr. Whitaker laughs nervously.
“Well, you and Spiderman have similar builds, so just wear the mask and wave out the window while he makes his quiet exit at the back.” Victoria points out.
As simple as Victoria’s plan was, Peter admits it’s a sound plan. Whitaker stands in as pseudo-Spiderman as a diversion. Moreover, him wearing scrubs as himself will allow him to easily blend in as the Hospital is staffed up with multiple doctors and nurses. People will be none the wiser unless he himself reveals he’s Spiderman on the way out.
“Take care of yourself kid, alright? Don’t get yourself injured again, I don’t want to see you back in here so soon.” Dr. Robby pats his back. Peter laughs at the joke. “Oh, I don’t know. Give me a month or so.”
“Oh, Santos will tease me for this,” Whitaker grumbles as he wears the mask over his head and adjusts the eye pieces. “At your signal, Spiderman.” He gives the doctor a thumbs up. Whitaker opens the window wide enough for him to be seen outside and waves to the people. On cue, they begin hearing the muffled cheers of people celebrating Spiderman.
Victoria makes him hold onto Whitaker’s patient charts to blend in. “You might wanna pass by the nurse’s station and the break room on your way out.” She whispers to him. Peter nods. He'd want to say goodbye to some of the people who helped him during his stay at the hospital.
“I’m really grateful for you guys, really. Thank you for helping me out.” Peter offers a gentle smile at the three persons in the room as he walks out.
He’ll be okay.