#i just think skeletons should drink free at skull coffee. it only makes sense

[alsojnpie]

[rejectofsociety]

Febuwhump: Day Seven

Prompt: Poisoning

Summary: After getting poisoned, Peter’s life takes a turn for the worst.

Word count: 2,985

Warnings: Major Character Dearth, Vomit

Written for: @febuwhump

✧༺✦✮✦༻∞　　∞༺✦✮✦༻✧

Peter’s spider senses had been ringing quietly from the moment he entered the cafe. Michelle had her little finger wrapped around Peter’s and Ned walked ahead of them, chatting casually as they made their to the counter to order— it should have been perfect. But it wasn’t. Peter’s heart was pounding and his senses were anxious and hyperactive. He could hear every tiny sound, from Ned’s voice to crumbs of food hitting the ground and he could not only smell a flurry of scents, but taste every single one of them. These moments used to send him into a panicked state and he would find himself curled up and crying, but he had grown used to them and could manage his fear.

“And what will you be having?” The young lady taking their order asked.

“Um- I uh-“ Peter shook himself out of his thoughts and gazed at her for a moment.

She looked eerily familiar— she smelled familiar too, like gun smoke and vinegar. Peter forced himself to look away from her big brown eyes to look over at Michelle. She frowned in concern then looked back at the lady.

“He’ll have the same thing I’m having,” she decided for him.

“Alright,” she smiled broadly, her eyes lingering on Peter for an extra moment, “we’ll have that ready as soon as possible. Feel free to sit wherever.”

“Thanks,” Ned brightly replied then picked out a nearby booth.

Peter and Michelle took one side while Ned sat across from them. Michelle held one of Peter’s hands in both of hers and stroked his palm with her thumb, her brown knit tightly in concern. Ned leaned forward slightly with a worried expression as he examined his friend’s face.

“Are you okay, Peter?” Michelle asked, trying to mask her anxiousness towards his state.

“Yeah, you looked really freaked out. Is she an ex-girlfriend or something?” Ned half-joked.

“No, she’s not my ex-girlfriend,” Peter rolled his eyes, slowly beginning to calm down at Michelle’s loving touch, “she’s, like, thirty or something. But, yeah, I’m okay.”

“Are you sure?” Michelle checked, “because for a moment there it looked like you were about to throw up.”

He shook his head, “I’m fine. I swear.”

“Okay, okay,” Ned sighed, “I definitely believe you.”

Peter stirred in his seat then leaned against Michelle, resting his head on her shoulder. She rubbed his back gently with one hand, knowing how to calm his nerves.

As they waited for their coffee and muffins, they chatted about movies, school, their upcoming Academic Decathlon (which Peter spoke enthusiastically about), and sometimes just sat in peaceful silence. Michelle normally avoided the topic of Star Wars as much as possible but, for the sake of distracting Peter from whatever was bothering him, she didn’t mind bringing it up. Besides, she secretly enjoyed listening to him bitch about how fucked up the sequels were.

“Order for Ned Leeds,” the barista called, her eyes glued to Peter in a way that made his stomach turn and his spine shudder.

Ned stood up and collected their order then brought it back to the table. Again, Peter’s spider sense lit his head on fire and he grit his teeth. What’s wrong?! He cried internally, I get it, the barista is creepy and smells weird, but why?! He found himself wishing his spider sense had a voice so it could simply tell him what was wrong. These were some of the scariest moments of his life as Spiderman— the ones where something was clearly wrong, but he had no idea what it could be. It had happened several times to him when his sixth sense would scream and his body would grow painfully tense in preparation to demolish an invisible threat. It could happen at the most random times: at school, at home with May, or in this exact scenario where he was at a cafe trying to enjoy a midday snack. To make things worse, he had never been to the cafe before and had no clue what it was supposed to be like. However, he was certain that most baristas weren’t supposed to smell like gun smoke and vinegar.

“Peter,” Ned called, “are you going to eat or just stare at your food?”

Peter blinked a few times as if clearing away the dark cloud of oppressive thoughts, “bit of both,” he finally managed to joke.

“If you don’t want to eat here, we don’t have to,” Michelle pointed out.

“No, I do. I’m just tired,” he smiled softly.

“Alright, then we’ll hurry up and you can get home,” she decided.

Most days, Peter hated to be the one to end things early but today he didn’t mind at all. In fact, he was more than happy to. As Peter took a bite of his bagel, his spider sense made his stomach lurch, as if urging him to throw up. He managed to suppress any reaction and opted to dismiss it as overdramatized anxiety due to being in a new place and a creepy barista. That seemed like a decent enough explanation. After all, a few times his spider sense had overreacted to small things and made them seem like threats to the entire planet. This had to be one of those times, right?

The bagel tasted faintly of vinegar, just like the barista’s scent. His stomach did flips like a trapeze artist but he forced himself to ignore it.

He hardly recognized any of the following events, it was like time had sped up and slowed down simultaneously. One moment, he was forcing himself to eat a bagel through sips off coffee, the next moment Ned and Michelle were walking him to May’s apartment.

“Promise me you’ll get a drink of water and some sleep,” Ned implored.

“I will,” Peter mumbled, now gripping Michelle’s hand tightly as they entered the elevator.

Peter’s head was spinning like a ferris wheel as his stomach twisted into knots. He could practically feel the blood draining from his face, making him as pale as a skeleton’s skull. Michelle muttered something to him as she led him out of the elevator, down the hall, and through his front door. Ned followed and was the first to greet May.

“Hey, May,” he spoke.

“Hi Ned, Michelle, P- oh goodness. Peter, are you alright?” She rushed to her nephew and cupped his face in her hands.

“Yeah, I’m-“

“No, he’s not alright,” Michelle sharply interrupted, “we got to the cafe and he started acting weird, then we left and he’s just been looking worse by the second.”

“What’s wrong?” May demanded, “you have to talk to us.”

Peter’s stomach lurched and he pushed his aunt away from him, “sick,” he grunted hoarsely, unable to say anymore.

“Go to the bathroom,” May ordered, “MJ, can you go with him? I’ll be there in a moment.”

Michelle nodded and led Peter away. Ned was about to follow when May gently stopped him.

“Ned, can you tell me what happened in that cafe?” She asked softly.

“I don’t really know,” Ned admitted, “he was fine until we went inside. Then, he got really nervous and kept looking at the barista. Then he was fine again until we started eating and he looked nervous again. Once we left, it was kinda like he was mentally on a different planet and he looked really sick. That’s all I know.”

“Hm... do you think something he ate upset his stomach?”

“That’s my best guess.”

May sighed and rubbed her face, “he’s so stubborn sometimes.”

“I know,” Ned agreed with a nod, “it makes it so hard to know what’s wrong with him.”

May silently agreed and suspired softly, “why don’t you go check on him and I’ll be there in a second.”

He agreed then made his way towards the bathroom where he found Peter hunched over the toilet and quivering while Michelle sat on the floor next to him, gently stroking his hair.

“How are you doing, Peter?” He asked.

“‘M literally begging you to kill me,” Peter mumbled quietly.

“Not happening, sorry,” Ned replied as he made his way around the two and sat down on the edge of the bathtub.

Peter groaned then coughed and gagged. Michele and Ned averted their gazed to the ground as he gasped then wretched. He only managed to choke up a small amount of bile.

“Peter, are you feeling any better?” May asked, her voice heavy with worry as she slid a glass of water into his hand.

“No,” he grunted then shakily rose the glass to his lips and took a small sip of water.

May sighed and knelt down next to him, feeling his forehead with the back of her hand. She didn’t need to linger for more than a second to feel how incredibly feverish his skin was.

“You’re burning up,” she observed, pulling her hand away.

Peter couldn’t reply and only began gagging again spat out a bit of bagel. He strained his memory as he focused on the face of the barista. He knew her from somewhere, he knew he did. But for some reason, his memory seemed to insist on forgetting about her.

“I know her from somewhere,” he rasped.

“What?” Ned asked.

“The barista,” he clarified, “I know her. B-but I don’t know where from.”

Michelle knit her brow together and considered his words, “do... do you think she poisoned you?”

Her words held an awfully heavy weight as it forced the realization upon the small family. That was the only reasonable explanation for Peter’s sudden shift in health.

Peter propped his head up on his elbows that rested on the toilet seat and thought for a moment. Rather, he tried to think. His mind was fuzzy and his vision was blurred. He could feel his breathing growing shallow as it gradually slowed down. His heart attempted to thunder with fear, yet it could only sluggishly pound and occasionally skip beats, making his chest feel momentarily empty. Every fiber in his body ached with nausea and something told him his last moments were rapidly approaching.

“May,” Peter managed to say weakly after a moment, his eyes having an incredibly difficult time staying open, “ca-an you c-call M’sser Stark?”

She nodded quickly, “th-that’s a good idea.”

She reached for her phone, only to realize she had left it in the kitchen. She leaned forward and kissed the side of her nephew’s head, her lips lingering lovingly for a moment before she stood up.

“I’ll be right back,” she assured, “you’ll be alright.”

Peter could only give a shaky nod in response then watched her leave out of the corner of his eye.

“I just want this to end,” he murmured brokenly.

“I-it’ll be over soon,” Ned shakily promised.

He could see the agony and the fear in his friend’s eyes. The sight twisted his stomach into knots and tore his heart into shreds. At the same time, it sent him into a trembling panic, because the last time he saw that look in Peter’s eyes it was the night of Uncle Ben’s funeral.

He glanced at Michelle, wishing for reassurance but was instead met with something much worse. She stared at Peter with tears in her eyes, her expression twisted into one of desperation and dismay. It was as if she were already looking at a corpse.

“Peter, you’ll be okay,” Ned stated, wishing his voice wasn’t as uneven as it was, “I promise. Tony will come here and he’ll know exactly what to do.”

Peter nodded his head slightly only to be met with a harsh rush of dizziness racing to his head and engulfing his mind. He squeezed his eyes shut then threw up another bite of bagel and all too much stomach acid. The acid burned his throat disgustingly and only made him want to throw up again.

As he kept his eyes glued shut, he gradually began to conjure an image in his mind. It was the barista, dressed in all black and frantically wrapping a scarf around her face as she darted away from... from what? Wait, wait! He remembered! She had been trying to cover her face as Peter webbed up her colleagues. How could he have let her get away like that?! But more importantly... how did she know he was Spiderman?

“I-i arrested her friends,” Peter murmured.

Michelle ran her hand through his tousled hair as she spoke, “the barista?”

“Yeah... but...” he coughed and wheezed, “I-i don’t und...understand.”

“How could she recognize you?” Ned asked, his brow knit in confusion.

Peter shrugged his shoulders slightly, each movement growing more and more tiresome by the second— his body felt horribly stiff and sluggish, as if he were already turning into a corpse. He attempted to raise his glass of water to his mouth, only for his weakened grip to give in and he dropped the glass on the tile floor with a loud clatter.

“Fuck...” he breathed hoarsely.

“Don’t worry about it, it’s okay,” Ned assured as he grabbed a towel off the floor then stood up and made his way to the spilt water, quickly cleaning it up.

“Can.... get me an...other,” Peter managed to request— the fact that he was even talking was a mystery to him.

Ned nodded then hesitantly left the bathroom, his eyes lingering on Peter a few extra moments as if his friend would die the moment he walked away.

Peter’s eyes lazily forced themselves open and attempted to focus on Michelle. Yet, they insisted on blurring and watering as they crossed behind half-closed lids. Tears began flowing down his cheeks and his neck was forced to work twice as hard to support his limp head.

He craved the sight of her warm eyes that made him feel safe and invincible. He silently begged for her sweet smile that made butterflies swarm his stomach every time he saw it. He wanted to hear her say ‘dork’ or ‘loser’ one more time and he wanted to watch her lips move with the words. He wished he could curl up in her lap and she could read him a book to make his forget his troubles. He was crushingly terrified and helplessly furious with himself for ignoring his instincts— how could he let this happen?! And now his girlfriend was with him, making sure he wouldn’t die alone, yet he couldn’t even see her face.

“Wh-why are you crying?” Michelle questioned weakly, cupping his cheek with one hand.

“I can’t see you,” he croaked, “I... I’m dying... and I-I’m sc...scared.... a-and I can’t even see yo-you’re face.”

Michelle choked out a sob and threw her arms around his torso. She kissed the side of his neck dozens of times, muttering ‘I love you’ quietly in between kisses. Peter mumbled ‘I love you’ in reply as much as his body would allow. His hands were too weak now, but he wanted to hold her hand and kiss her palm lightly. Worse, he craved  a tender kiss on the lips but he knew he would taste like vomit and his li[s would be cold— it was best to leave it be.

Peter could feel the toxins rushing through his veins, numbing his nerves and exhausting his body to the point of immobility. His lungs slowed to a stop and he drew in an exasperated breath, trying to bring life back into his body.

“Peter?” Michelle called softly, briefly pulling away from him.

May and Ned arrived at almost the exact same time, only to be frozen in horror. In the moments they were gone, Peter’s state had managed to get so much worse. His lips and nails were blue like sapphires and his skin was so pale it was almost bone-white. His eyes appeared to be sunken into his skull, and the parts of the whites that they could see were practically blood-red.

May collapsed at his side and clutched his shoulders, “Peter?”

Peter’s eyes fluttered closed as his body went limp and he used his last bit of conscious strength to attempt to hold himself upright. Ned sat on his knees beside May and tried to help his friend stay upright. Yet, Peter fell away from the toilet and hit the ground. Michelle’s hand clasped over one of Peter’s and May grabbed his shoulders frantically and scooped his torso into her arms, cradling him close her chest. Panic exploded in everyone’s chest as they watched Peter’s life slip away from his body through his bluish lips as his head rolled limply to the side. He couldn’t hear the frantic cries and yells of his family, yet they wailed anyways as if it would bring him back.

“No, no, no,” Michelle cried, “Peter, don’t!”

“Stay with us!” Ned exclaimed desperately, overcome with anxiety and confusion and desperation.

“Peter, don’t leave me!” May wailed hysterically, shaking her boy’s body as if that would awake him, “wake up! PLEASE!”

“Baby, I need you!”

“Don’t do this to us!”

“This can’t- this can’t-“

May couldn’t even finish her thought as she buried her face in Peter’s chest and sobbed. All three clung to the corpse tightly, hardly able to process their emotions as they came flooding out. It couldn’t be real. This couldn’t be right. Not when the day had started out so perfectly. How could it end with Ned loosing his best friend, Michelle loosing her boyfriend, and May watching her baby boy’s life slip away? How could this have happened? How could they have been so powerless to stop it?

“Peter,” Michelle whimpered, holding onto his hand as if it were the one thing keeping her alive, “... come back... please...”