*Peter's POV*
Peter had been juggling his responsibilities just fine for the past two weeks, since he stopped the mugging involving the gun. Everything was fine. He kept up with his school work, getting his homework done and keeping his grades up. He was finishing fights with small time goons quickly and returning to the apartment before two almost every night, which was a huge improvement. Peter even had time to spare to do things with May.
But none of his good fortune could keep May from having to work every day, sometimes two or three shifts a day, barely having more than two hours of rest in between. She hardly ate anymore, whether because she couldn't afford it or she hadn't slept enough which lead to her not being able to stomach anything.
May was always tired now, constantly yawning and dozing off when she was sitting at the kitchen table. She could barely make a coherent conversation with Peter. He was concerned to the point where he tried to slip her some sleeping pills, which she had been prescribed weeks ago and had simply neglected to take in her constant state of haste, in her water, but she had to leave and never drank the liquid.
And then everything shifted.
Peter just got back from school. He had homework upon homework to complete, it was a lot but it wasn't due tomorrow so he figured he could start it later on and finish it tomorrow or the day after.
Walking up the stairs to the apartment, a tingling sensation prickled up his neck. His steps slowed and a cold sensation washed over him. His spidey-sense was a strange thing, but it was never wrong. It could warn him of all physical pain that was going to hurt him, and it could even tip him off when something bad happened.
Now, bad could be perceived as many different things. Mainly, it consisted of things involving emotional pain. It would warn him before something bad happened that might emotionally distress him. This could be emotions like anxiety, sadness, anger, and other emotions that negatively effect him.
Unlike how it effects him when dealing with physical pain, when it will force his natural survival instincts to kick in so that he moves without a true thought (it was basically an unconscious action), the sense will merely give him a strange feeling such as a shiver down his spine, tingle his neck hairs, so on. But it was distinguishable from random, sporadic things that all humans do. He could tell when it was warning him.
Worryingly enough, Peter knew it was warning him. Whatever he was about to see was not going to go over very well. It was bad and he knew May was supposed to be home right now, which is why he rushed into the apartment.
To say Peter expected to see May passed out on the couch, looking the most at peace she had in weeks, would be a lie. He stuttered to a stop and stared at her motionless figure with a feeling of relief washing over him. He dropped his bag to the ground and slowly walked over to her, maybe he would find a blanket to put on her or something, but then another wave of anxiety washed through him.
Motionless. May was sleeping but she was motionless and when you put sleeping and motionless together that can only mean one thing. And there was no way May was what Peter thought she was.
Coming around the couch so he was beside May, Peter crouched down and put a shaking hand to her neck. Thankfully there was a pulse, which had Peter's own heartbeat going faster than was healthy, and speaking of heartbeats going faster than they should, May's was going far past what should be healthy.
Her pulse was fast, nearly triple his own elevated heart rate. And she no longer seemed motionless. Now that he was closer Peter could see the rapid rising and falling of her chest, far too quick for what it should be.
Peter shook her roughly, going from just her arm to full on grabbing her shoulders and pulling her back and forth manically. He was near convinced her eyes wouldn't open even with his persistent shaking, but then her eyes fluttered open. They appeared almost misted over, not seeing the world around them.
May coughed and tried to sit up, looking around wildly and appearing almost unhinged as she darted up to cough and nearly fell as Peter grabbed her gently and pushed her back onto the couch. "May—" Peter started softly, reaching out to comfort her in some way, but he was cut off before he got within a foot of her as she pushed him painfully into the wall.
"NO!" May shouted, grabbing her wrist and scratching at it. "Wh-Where am I? Where am I? Answer me! Tell me where I am!" May tried to jump off the couch again only for her knees to buckle beneath her as she landed, her figure swayed even as she was supported by Peter.
Trying to keep her upright, Peter tried to pull out his phone to dial the emergency line. May struggled against him and whipped around, almost hysterically, all the while still asking strange questions.
With a final struggle to escape his grasp, May tripped over her feet and collapsed to the ground, bringing Peter down with her. With a gasping breathe, May began trying to push Peter away from her in her stage of disorientation.
Her skin was dry and cracking, she was repeatedly licking her lips as she tried to save them from becoming chapped. She gave an angry huff and crumpled into Peter's lap with a resounding shout.
Staring at her, Peter hardly realized he was calling the cops before he was following after May into an ambulance. He stayed silent, hardly hearing anything the officer asked him.
Peter pulled his phone out and sent a quick text to Ned and MJ, letting them know he wouldn't be at school the next day. He tried to reassure them, telling them it was nothing to worry about. But he was lying.
The ambulance drive was so long. The paramedics were looking her over, trying to find any visible injuries that might suggest why she had passed out. They tried to make her stay awake, though she continued to doze off or stay in a completely still position long enough that the paramedics tried shaking her out of the trance.
The eye bags that had been plaguing her for days were very visible against her colorless skin. She was shaking and her breathing was still way faster than it should have been. Every movement had her swaying, she complained of being dizzy with the little energy she seemed capable of mustering up.
Peter tried squeezing her hand to reassure her, but she swatted him away and looked around wildly as if she were somewhere far away. The paramedics kept watchful eyes over her, asking questions to keep her awake and gain a better grip on what might be wrong.
Her eyes were scratchy, as she described it, and felt painful to blink. Her heart felt slow, but it was beating faster than it ever had before. And she was incredibly tired, exhausted to her very core. She just wanted to sleep.
Then she complained of her thirst. May mentioned being thirsty for a very long time, so thirsty that she felt her tongue would turn to sandpaper and fall off, but she hadn't been able to take a long enough break to actually drink anything. Peter felt sick to his stomach as he heard her rant to the paramedics.
Immediately, one of the paramedics pulled her chart up and wrote something down in clear, slanted writing. Pulling out an IV, they began supporting her with fluids without an explanation the rest of the ride to the hospital.
May did eventually pass out, the whole ambulance fell into chaos as they tried to wake her, barely getting any response past a small stir of her head. Peter felt the oncoming anxiety attack long before it actually happened.
And when it did, it was in the waiting room, on a plastic chair, with a little girl crying across the room. A women trying to hide the fact that she was smoking behind a plant. A man yelling at the receptionist. And an older couple weeping for their apparently now deceased daughter.
—
—
—
*Peter's POV*
Shaking hands, tense shoulders, and erratic breathes were all that could tell Peter he was still awake. Everything around him had faded to a blurry background while his ears rang eerily like a nonstop alarm.
May passed out and didn't know where she was. She was scared and confused and disoriented and she couldn't stay awake which he just knew meant something was terribly wrong.
Her face kept flashing back into his mind, reminding him of her closed eyes which were decorated with the dark bags from long, sleepless nights. Her limp frame, not moving at all, being pumped with fluids from an IV that should never be near her again, because she did not deserve to be sick or unwell or sad or scared and his chest was hurting so bad right now.
With a shuddering breathe, Peter snapped back into reality. His heart hammered in his chest and his skin was clammy and scratched at from where his finger nails had begun to dig in as he internally panicked.
Shaking his head and wiping his face, because apparently he had started crying at some point, he stood up from the uncomfortable chair and staggered into the bathroom. May was going to be fine. He had seen her just the other night, smiling softly if not with a slightly worn out expression and telling him that she loved him before she went off to work again.
So she wasn't dead and certainly wasn't dying. That thought was so preposterous that Peter began giggling, holding onto the ledge of the sink and dropping to the floor while his hysterical laughter slipped through his lips. "Dead...?" Peter mumbled, laughing harder. "May isn't dead, that's just stupid and... and my anxiety is getting to me..." Voice trailing off along with the laughter, Peter curled in on himself and stared at the door.
May could be dying for all he knew. No one had come to tell him anything about her yet and she was barely able to keep her eyes open last he saw her. She might already be dead. Maybe she had been dead for a while and he was trying to force the negative thoughts out.
But that made him laugh again. A wet, voice cracking laugh that hurt his already aching chest and shook his tense shoulders. Peter knew she wasn't dead. Not yet at the very least. However, that didn't make him worry any less. Anything could be happening right now and no one seemed to want to update him.
With a steadying breathe, Peter stood back up and washed his hands and face. He stared at himself in the mirror, drawing calming breathes. Then he turned and left the bathroom, trying to act like nothing out of the ordinary had just taken place. He sat on the plastic chair again and waited for anyone to tell him anything.
—
—
—
*Peter's POV*
They told Peter she was fine. She was going to live and he needed to keep an eye out for her, but she was going to live. May was just dehydrated, to the point of hospitalization. Peter sat and took in everything they said.
"Make sure she drinks water every hour for the first week and then she can go to a more spread out timeline."
"She needs to eat more as well. She has signs of early malnutrition."
"Get her to go outside more often, some sunlight and fresh air can do a lot of good."
"We'll keep her in the hospital for about three more days with constant fluids and we'll make sure to tell her everything we've already told you."
The list could go on and on, everything becoming more complicated as it dragged on. Of course, Peter would never complain. He would do anything and everything for May, but he could hardly keep up with everything let alone write it all down so he could remember it later.
Thankfully, May would still be in the hospital for three more days and then she was to stay out of work for another week. That gave him some time to adjust and be prepared for what was to come. And when May woke up he was definitely going to talk to her about him getting a job so she could drop a shift or two.
Peter knew it was a long shot, she was too stubborn to relent so easily, but all he had to do was hit the right nerve and she would give in.
About an hour later, it was early the next morning after he found May passed out, Peter was filling out some paperwork the receptionist gave him. He had already known he wouldn't be going to school that day so he chose to go check up on May again once he was done with the paperwork.
The room was covered in everything white. Sheets, pillows, walls, trays— everything. And it smelled so sterile that it gave him a headache. But what stopped him in the doorway, eyebrows furrowed and shoulders tense, was the sight of May.
She was still unconsciousness, though she had woken up earlier and was now resting on her own accords instead of a dehydrated-induced sleep. The thin white sheets were pulled up to the middle of her chest, her arms exposed over the blanket, one with an IV pumping her with more fluids.
There was a monitor to the side of her and a tray of cold food on the table beside her bed. No doubt it would be discarded long before she woke up. Peter walked forward as quietly as he could, trying his best not to disturb her, and came to a stop beside her bed.
She didn't stir or twitch in the slightest, she stayed oblivious in her sleep. It was a bit of a relief to see her finally resting, getting the fluids she needed and having access to some healthy food for the first time in ages.
The door clicked open behind Peter, pulling him from his thoughts. Turning, he came face-to-face with May's doctor who smiled softly at Peter. "Ah, I'm Doctor More, and I'm guessing you're Mr. Parker?" The man said kindly, offering his hand to shake.
Peter nodded and shook his hand politely, turning away from May to talk with the doctor. "I suggest you go home, son, Miss. Parker will be asleep for a few more hours. She was very sleep deprived so I'm estimating for her to wake up around five or six this evening."
Peter shook his head and rubbed his face. "Um, s-sir..." The doctor waited patiently as Peter tried to spit out his question. "What am I supposed to do for, uh, my aunt?" He asked softly. "She's dehydrated, starving, tired... I-I... I didn't even know..."
The doctor sighed and clamped a large hand down on Peter's shoulder. "Just watch over her, okay? That's the best thing you can do." Doctor More replied with a confident smile. "Her job offers a great deal of medical insurance so you don't even have to worry about finances. If she needs to come back then she needs to come back, but we want to avoid that as much as possible."
"Your aunt will be fine, everyone can cut down on things, but we all need water, food, and sleep eventually." The doctor squeezed Peter's shoulder reassuringly and continued on. "I am quite aware of many people struggling with money, I've been there before. At the bare minimum, I want both of you to eat once a day and have at least two glasses of water."
Peter sighed and slouched, knowing even that amount was pushing their luck (and money). "If you have to make a choice, choose more water over food. Water is very important and a human needs much more of it rather than food."
Closing his eyes, Peter felt his energy draining. May wasn't going to agree to this. She wanted him to have everything, food every meal and water all the time. It was what made her so kind and amazing, but she always neglected her own health in the process.
Peter was going to make it his goal to keep her healthy.