Not much progress was made, at least that's how his bosses would see it as but Peter saw everything as progress.
While he couldn't communicate much with Mr Wilson without supplies, ence no diagnosis yet, Peter still saw progress in simply bonding with the man.
Mr Wilson seemed to have grown accustomed to his presence. He was less fidgety and less tense within just two days sessions. They weren't long as Peter didn't want to pressure the other and overwhelm him right away but they seemed to be enough.
It was still decided the other would eat in his own room as Peter hadn't gotten a full diagnosis, people needed to be certain he wasn't aggressive with a signed paper so Mr Wilson could join the other patients.
Peter would get permission signed soon, he told himself- Mr Wilson could really use some company and it would be nice if the other made some friends.
So here he was, a list of items Mr Wilson had written in his notebook in his hand and a bag of said items in his other.
Mr Wilson's handwriting was actually very pretty. It was neat unlike Peter's quick strokes. The man's writing was bubbly, like a computer's writing, whilst Peter's seemed to have been written by a psychiatrist- just scribbles hoping to give the messenger away to the pharmacist.
Humming, Peter set the items on one of the many tables. They were long and tall enough so you wouldn't hunch over, similar to the ones you'd find at the airport after getting your belongings checked.
Peter ticked the items on the list that he saw, nodding in approval as the list was filled out.
"Gloves...Mask, body moisturizer, face moisturizer, drawing pad- hmm no drawing pad" Peter mumbled the items aloud, noticing anything that seemed to be for entertainment wasn't included. He frowned, he knew this would've happened.
"Baby oil, baby shower gel..." he paused. Was it important that it was skin friendly? Of course it was... Mr Wilson's skin must be quite sensitive.
Picking up the moisturizers, Peter read its contents but he didn't know whether or not it would hurt Mr Wilson so he just put it back in the bag along with the rest.
In the least, they seemed to have grabbed what was health related but Peter was still a bit frustrated with the fact they hadn't gotten Mr Wilson any activity wise objects, despite Peter having written it down specifically.
"Excuse me" he stood in front of the receptionist who looked up at him through her thin frame of her glasses "Some things are missing" he said, trying to mask his twitchy eye with a smile
"Who is it for?" The woman asked, turning her attention to the computer as she typed up
"Peter Parker"
"Patient's name?" She asked without looking up
"Mr Wilson" Peter said
"First name?"
"Wade" Peter sighed, sure that he only had one patient in his register under the name Wilson
"Is it Mister... Wade Winston Wilson?" The woman looked up at him and it took a lot of Peter's strength not to roll his eyes at her
"Yes ma'am" Peter forced a smile as he bit the inside of his cheek in annoyance
"Alright..." she clicks "So here says...your order has been refused due toooo..." she dragged out before rolling her eyes up to Peter again "lack of functionality"
"As Mr Wilson's carer at the moment, I think it is up to me whether it has a 'lack of functionality' or not" Peter kept his smile present but he could feel his eye pulsating with the stress.
"If you have any complaints you can always talk to Mr Stark" the woman huffed, clicking away on her computer
"May I ask who is in charge of the orders?" Peter asked
"That's me" the woman lifted a brow and Peter, physically, asked some beyond force for patience.
"May I ask why you think that there's a lack of function in certain orders?" Peter lift a brow
"I've already closed the program, again- if there are any complaints, you should speak with Mr Stark" and with that she snapped the blinds on him.
"You know you'll still be able to hear me right?" Peter rolled his eyes, finally
There wasn't an answer, just some loud clicking before the woman began to talk on the phone.
Peter left it at that, certain nothing could help the situation if he kept poking her. Turning with Mr Wilson's new belongings, he pulled out his phone to make a note of having a talk with his manager instead of Mr Stark.
The lady was probably trying to scare him away by mentioning their boss but if it had to do with his patient's wellbeing, he doesn't care. Mr Stark is human, just like everyone else, and if Peter has to, he will argue with the man as well.
Peter huffed, moving on autopilot as he held himself from stopping down the halls. He left his messenger bag at his desk, pulling out only his notepad and pen and carrying those with the bag of Mr Wilson's new belongings.
It wasn't until he saw Mr Wilson jump off his bed and push himself against the furthest corner, startled, that he had noticed he had made his way in without thinking.
"Sorry!" Peter gasped, quickly turning around and shutting the door behind him, eyes wide as he rested his back against the door. What is the matter with him?! The only privacy patients have are in their own room and Peter just strolled right in!
Attempting to calm himself and his thoughts due to his thoughtless mistake, Peter hoped it was enough time for Mr Wilson to calm down as well and collect himself.
Knock Knock.
Peter turned, blinking as Mr Wilson knocked from the inside of his room. Taken aback, Peter opened the door, uncertain what else he was supposed to do.
Both men stood awkwardly, staring at each other until Peter finally shook his head and smiled apologetically up at the man
“Forgive me, I hadnt meant to come in so hastily” he apologized “was stuck in my own thoughts and was just…acting on auto-pilot” he chuckled, head ducking until Mr Wilson’s movement made him look back up.
Mr Wilson was quickly shaking his head, pausing before finally moving out of the way so Peter could come in.
“Thank you” Peter thanked with a smile, dragging the bag with him and placing it atop of the table, a smile curling at his lips as he noticed Mr Wilson hovering around the bag curiously, his eyes underneath the ‘mask’ sparkling like a child.
“Some of your items have arrived already” Peter said, pulling out a seat for himself “The others are yet to come” he lied easily, gesturing for Mr Wilson to join “but you'll have everything you need soon enough”
Mr Wilson sat down, giddly hopping in his seat and Peter’s fingers itched to take note of the simple body language the man had. It was much alike a child on Christmas, wanting to open a present but far too nervous to do so.
“Go ahead” Peter nodded “tell me if there is anything not to your liking” he finally opened his own tiny notepad, pen ready for notes in case Mr Wilson were to have any complaints.
As soon as given permission to do so, Mr Wilson took ahold of the plastic bag and ripped it open with ease, the contents inside falling out, some dropping to the floor. Peter blinked in surprise but otherwise remained still as he watched his patient begin to familiarize with the items.
Mr Wilson seemed a bit disappointed with the writing notebook and pens but his attention was quickly taken by the containers of body and face moisturizers and oils.
“I am not sure if the moisturizer will hurt on sensitive skin” Peter spoke suddenly and Mr Wilson’s head snapped up, not wanting the other to suddenly lather himself in something that might hurt “so before you use it please spread some cream on a small section of skin beforehand, just in case” he smiled
Mr Wilson kept his gaze, giving a slow nod and placing the two containers properly in front of him in a line. He paused, eyes taking in the contents once again before he reached for a pair of gloves and quickly put them on.
Peter only noticed then that he had been attempting to hide his hands with his sleeves. Quietly, he wrote that down.
Then, he looked at the mask that was provided and visibly cringed. It was a nude color and often used in hospitals for burn victims, snug enough to heal the wounds and breathable enough for comfort. It had five holes; one for mouth, two for nostrils and two for eyes. The stitch lines went down the middle of the face, around the nose so the nose fit easily and two down the chin- it wasn't made to be pretty, just functional… but as Mr Wilson seemed to dislike it, Peter wondered if maybe he should have given appearances some thought.
As Mr Wilson fiddled with the mask, removing one glove to feel the texture, Peter jotted down more notes, wondering if maybe someone did commissions for masks like such.
Unlike the gloves, Mr Wilson didn't put the mask on, instead placing it neatly with the other contents before finally taking the notebook in hand. He dug his hand in the bag of newly bought pens and seemed to put whichever he fished out down, stopping only when he pulled out a red pen.
Peter watched curiously as Mr Wilson opened the notebook, going to write on the first page before he froze for a moment and finally turned the page, seeming not to want to use the first one.
For a moment, the masked man struggled to get the red pen to work but when he finally did, he lifted up a “Thank you”, that took most of the page, towards Peter.
“No worries” Peter chuckled, covering his mouth with his hand as he did so “There are still some things missing… but is there anything else you need or want?” he asked, leaning in
Mr Wilson quickly snapped his head down and turned a page as he began to write a list of things, seeming much eager in comparison to the first time now that he had seen he can order anything- well… not anything-
Peter yelped when a paper was shoved in his face suddenly, leaning back to see what his patient was showing him. He quickly fixed his glasses as he mumbled out the words
“Mind if I take a copy of this page?” Peter asked, peeking from the side of the notebook in order to look at Mr Wilson.
Mr Wilson seemed to process the question, frozen before he ultimately ripped the page right out and handed it to Peter.
Smiling, Peter took the paper with care, placing it down and reminding himself to add it to the files just in case Mr Wilson were to need any of the things.
“Thank you, Mr Wilson” Peter chuckled softly “I'll make sure you have everything as soon as possible”
Blue eyes crinkled ever so slightly, Mr Wilson turning another page, seeming to hesitate in what he was to write. He only managed to write a “Call me” before there was a knock at the door, interrupting their conversation short.