SPIDERMAN | Shattered

Chapter Three - Peter Parker

Peter's nose and lungs burned with the acrid, sterile order of a hospital. His head ached and the thoughts felt far off and disconnected, as if his brain was wrapped in a blanket. He drew in a stuttering breath and swallowed, his throat stabbing at him. His whole body ached, but it was as if the pain was somewhere else and he was processing just the edges of it all. The pain washed over him in waves, leaving seconds of silence between each bout.

He groaned in pain as it returned, his mind slowly discovering more and more of it as he attempted to shift around. His eyelids fluttered open, the figures and fuzzy environment gradually blurring into focus. He wasn't lying in the dark, musty room anymore. His lungs were inhaling fresh air. He blinked down at his wrists, startled to see an IV puncturing his skin.

Peter tried to move, but his arms refused to work. He gasped, choking on panic. His arm was being secured tight with a sort of strap.

He hadn't been rescued after all. They were trying new tactics.

His muscles strained against the strap, the material beginning to tear. He hardly noticed as the straps dug into his skin, marking red welts against his flesh. He struggled to sit up and free himself. He had the strength to do it now. He could get out of here. His heart was pounding painfully against his chest, black spots speckling his vision and blurring the world around him.

A hand gently pushed him back to the bed. Peter tried to gather the energy to fight, but a strain in his ribs bit into his side. He slowly inhaled, doing his best to breathe around the pain.

"Steve, he's struggling again, I could use some help for a moment. He's going to injure his ribs further if he keeps this up. Stay down, Peter, it's for your own good."

Someone else was at his side now, but Peter's vision wouldn't stop swimming to focus. He could hardly make his lungs inhale. The spots of darkness were not leaving.

The voice spoke, the words soft and gentle. "If he keeps struggling against us like this, he's going to lose the strength he's been gaining. I know you said that he needed to be held down, so he doesn't hurt you again, but he's just scared."

"I know it's not great, but it's either that or be attacked again. He thinks I'm going to hurt him."

"Maybe sedate him until he's out of the danger zone. We can't risk anything."

Peter shrunk back to the bed trembling at the words, mumbling incoherent sentences. Blind fear and pain held on to every one of his sentences. Somewhere above him, a loud beeping began to chirp.

"See...I'm not certain this is improving the situation. We're not going to hurt him, but he thinks we are."

"So, he's awake..." Another voice appeared towards the end of the room, the words anxious and worn. The voice was so soft it was nearly inaudible.

Through his blurry vision, he saw a hand reach for his arm. He instinctively flinched away. His head swam with colors as the room swam and spun. "Don't touch me," he spat. Even a few words sent his mind further back. Exhausted, he was teetering between consciousness and darkness.

"I'm sorry Tony, I didn't want you to see him like this."

"Maybe we should up the pain meds, knock him out for a while."

The last sentence sent a shock of panic filtering through Peter, but he no longer had the strength to react. He just shut his eyes, his awareness of his breathing slowly drifting away. A soft beeping indicated his raising heartbeat.

"Tony..." The voice lowered to a concerned whisper. "It doesn't appear that he recognizes any of us. He panics when he hears any mention of sedation, medicine, or drugs. I ran a few blood tests, and it appears as though there's peculiar traces of...something in his blood. It could be a sort of drug. I've never seen anything like it before, and it matches nothing in our database. It does come close to a few things, but no matches."

"But what does it match?"

"A few hallucinatory drugs...nothing good."

Silence.

"Shit. So there's a chance he'll never quite recover?" The voice was bitter and quiet.

"Don't say things like that, Tony. Try to keep your mind open to more positive outcomes. Due to his...abilities he's recovering at a miraculous rate."

Peter stifled a groan as a shock of pain flashed through his head. He struggled weakly against the straps so he could hold his head. A firm hand once more urged him back down against the pillow, and Peter couldn't gather the strength to resist.

"It may be time to up the painkillers."

"I'll give him something through the IV, Tony, but I may have to knock him out first. I can't risk him freaking out and backtracking his progress. I'm not sure his ribs could take it. The pain is the only thing preventing him from flipping out on us."

The two men seemed to turn from Peter, their voices hushing. Peter shut his eyes tightly as the world spun faster. Beads of sweat trickled down his forehead.

"...Alright Tony, get some sleep. If you need more meds, please—"

"Bruce—shit—he isn't breathing!"

"Grab...yes, that...I need...hurry..."

He wasn't breathing. Funny how he...hadn't...hadn't even noticed.

His mind slipped further back, nearly completely falling out of focus. The two men's anxious voices fell further and further away. Something was slipped over his mouth and nose.

Perhaps he was dying—

**************** This book is currently under revision. Anything past this section is my ancient writing, so read at your own risk, it's pretty bad. Thanks for checking out the chapter!******