A Sick Spider-Man

Care and Contagion Worries

MJ's POV

"Come on Peter, we're almost there." Peter is dragging. I can tell. I feel so bad for him. All I want to do is sit him on the couch and cuddle up next to him with a blanket while he sleeps. 

Peter trips. Not enough to make him fall over, but enough to tell me that his fever is making him disoriented. Gently putting my arm around his back, but only being able to reach about two thirds of the way up, I steady him. 

"Babe?" I ask. Peter doesn't respond so I snap my fingers in front of his face and speak louder. "Peter!"

"Mhhh, What?" He asks coming out of his daze, his words slurring together, while my heart breaks for him. I hug him tighter, and with both arms, and he wraps his around me.

"Aw, sweetie, come on, it's just around this corner." I lead him to the left, towards my street, still hugging. It starts to sprinkle, so I hurry faster. As we start to walk up the driveway to my house, Peter stops dead in his tracks. I look up to see what's wrong, and his face is blank. Completely blank. Maybe a little bit too blank. I hug him from the front, thinking that his face is blank because he's tired and miserable and feeling crappy. I feel his whole body tense as he wrinkles his nose. His breathing becomes uneven. I know that he's about to sneeze. I start to gently comb my fingers through his hair as I lean my head on his shoulder. 

"Hah hah hatCHu HacHu E'cksht! ESHIEW! HIH-T'SHEW! EH'TSHUU!" He lets out six sneezes in fast motion and sniffles a little. He leans into me and shivers. Poor baby. I think. At that's moment, I don't even care that he totally just sneezed all over me, his arms being stuck to his side by my hug. As he leans his head on top of mine, I feel the heat radiating off of him. 

"Come on," I say. "Let's get you inside. I think your fever is getting worse." I lead him inside, unlocking the door using the key under the mat. I take him into the living room and sit him down on the couch while muttering that I have to get something. 

I go into the bathroom and take the big box of tissues off the counter. Then, I open the cabinet door and look through the various colored bottles and boxes of medications. I grab one labeled for congestion, and another for a fever and headache reducer. I also make a last minute choice to grab the giant bag of honey flavored cough drops. They taste nasty and don't really work that well, but I need all the help I can get. 

I go back into the living room after grabbing a glass of water for him, and see Peter shivering on the couch, curled up in a ball. I immediately feel bad for him, so I put all the stuff I brought and put it on the coffee table, then grab the fuzzy blanket that's on the basket next to the couch and drape it over him. Then, I lean into him, wrap my arms around him, and gently rub his back. 

He coughs into the blanket and I reach over to grab the cough drops. I open one and hand it to the still coughing Peter, and he takes it and pops it into his mouth. He gives a couple last coughs, and then leans back again.

"I hate being sick" he groans. 

"I know. I'm sorry you don't feel good" I hand him the other pills and the glass of water, but he looks at it a little unsure.

"Will this make me sleepy?"

"I don't know. Hold on. Let me check." Reaching over to grab the bottles, Peter coughs lightly into his shoulder. I quickly read over the side effects of both the bottles. "Alright, so you won't get sleepy, but this one will make you sneeze a lot." I hold the congestion one up.

Peter groans, so I say, "That's what it has to do to work. I'm sorry babe." He downs both pills in one gulp, and then winces out of the pain of swallowing. I move over so he can lay down, and he lays his head on my lap while I play with his hair. He sniffs, and closes his eyes.