𝐒𝐄𝐋𝐅 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐑𝐎𝐋

bonus 3 - personal nurse

It is, because when she walks in she nearly drops the items in her hands along with the shortness of breath when she realizes that this is bad. Worse than the other times. Possibly the worst she's seen.

Peter favors his left side, where there's not only four one foot long scratches digging deep into his flesh, but also fresh burns coating the skin surrounding the wounds, not sure the degree but it doesn't look too good based on the severity of it's redness and the pain Peter's currently portraying. Crimson, thick blood stains his hands and the skin below the gashes, already dried yet still oozing from the depth of the cut. 

The blood is spreading quicker than she can even comprehend and Ryder immediately kneels in front of him, dropping the stuff on the ground and gripping her hair instead, her mind reeling, running, sprinting, trying to figure out what the hell to do in this moment because, fuck, she's not a nurse or even practicing human medicine! She can manage small cuts and bruises but foot long gashes and second or third degree burns is not exactly in her field of knowledge. 

And her mind is running yet frozen at the same time because Peter is fucking looking at her, murmuring things to her and fuck, she can't do this, she can't do this anymore, this is too much, she doesn't know how to do this. The few strands of gauze and rubbing alcohol in front of her isn't nearly enough to properly tend to these wounds, this is too severe, he has to go to a hospital, he needs professional medical help. 

Ryder's shaking her head, eyes unable to leave the oozing blood and the swelling burns, tears brimming her eyes as the fear and pressure finally unfolds onto her. "Peter, I can't- I can't do this, you need a hospital-"

Peter whines out in protest or pain (maybe both? She can't tell). "No, no, no, you can do it, you can-"

"I can't! This is bad, Peter, worse than I've seen... I-I-I don't know where to start, I don't know what to do-!" she panics, her voice raising with each word and tears already streaming, forgetting that it's the middle of the night. 

"Gauze, it's fine, cover it up, it's fine-"

"No it's not! It's not fine, this is too much, I can't do this!" she nearly yells, digging her nails so deep into her palms that she feels herself drawing her own blood. "I don't- I can't- It's too much! I can't! I can't hurt you, you need a hospital!"

"No hospital-"

"Peter," she says slowly, finally looking into his eyes so he can understand, "I am not a nurse, I cannot take care of you like this, you need a hospital!"

Peter winces as he tries to sit up more, his volume much quieter than hers (because his lack of energy simply won't tolerate anything above a whisper). "You can, I know you can, just-"

"Ryder? Is everything alr-"

Ryder whips her head around and freezes, she doesn't have to turn around to know that Peter has tensed up too, because her mom, Valeria, has just sleepily opened to door to naively see what her yelling and commotion is about, and this sight of a bleeding teenager and her crying daughter is simply more than she bargained for, and now she's wide awake. It's as if Medusa has revealed her eyes because the stillness of all three bodies could be mistaken as statues if looked at by an outsider. The blood rushing through their veins is cold, chilling the host to the bone and shriveling up the figure, each body unsure of what to do with their limbs or what to say. What can you say?

Valeria halts at the sight, eyes wide as she analyzes the situation at hand: Her daughter's boyfriend is currently bleeding out onto the hardwood floor with some of the worst injuries she's seen (and how he got those is beyond her knowledge, perhaps the crumbled up Spiderman suit on the floor holds some answers), and her daughter is sitting on the floor with a pathetic excuse of medical equipment in front of her, tears streaming down her face and her eyes wider than ever.