Finally, after what seemed like an age, he reached his still-open window, and stopped, panting for breath, but he couldn't wait there. Propping Spider-Blizzard against the wall, he reached up and climbed to the window, before turning around and leaning down to once again grasp Spider-Blizzard under the arms, and began to heave her up.
He strained, grunting audibly, as he desperately tried with all his might to lift Spider-Blizzard. Luckily for him, Spider-Blizzard was slightly lighter than your average human being, and with nothing less than a miracle, Oliver somehow managed to lift him up enough to drag his upper half partly through the window. Shifting so that he was perched in the windowsill, he began pushing Spider-Blizzard's body through, panting and gasping as he did. But just before he was entirely in, he stopped. He ran over to his bed and grabbed two pillows, before running back again and placing them on the ground below where Spider-Blizzard's middle would land, then he tucked himself behind Spider-Blizzard's head, and pulled.
Spider-Blizzard's hips and legs slipped through the window in one go, and she fell softly onto the pillows, his head safely cradled by Oliver. Jumping up again, he began to pull him further into the centre of the room, and lay him there.
Running back as fast as he could, he grabbed the window, and pulled it shut.
Immediately, the room was filled with silence, with nothing being heard other than the faint patter of the slowly easing rain from outside, and Oliver's panicked breaths. They were safe now, enclosed in the boy's encased room. Nothing could get at them here. Not in his space.
Quickly remembering his guest, Oliver once again grabbed the pillows from where they lay, and ran back to the hero (with them flopping all over the place) before he crashed to the ground. Tenderly, he lifted Spider-Blizzard's middle and placed one under where he was hurt, stuffing it in, before he rested him back down. Then, he moved to Spider-Blizzard's head, which he proceeded to pick up as he tucked the pillow under his neck, carefully resting him on it. After that, he moved to his side, and shook at the hero again - even though it was useless - his eyes pleading, voice whining; begging him to wake up.
He sat there, exhausted, not knowing what to do or completely understanding the situation. Slowly, his eyes started to become heavy, and before he knew it, his head was drooping down, until it finally came to rest on Spider-Blizzard's chest. His eyes slipped shut.
Oliver was suddenly awoken by a jarring sound, along with being disturbed as the thing beneath him moved, jostling him.
He was confused for a second - blinking his tired blue eyes of sleep before the memories all flooded back.
Jumping up, he looked down at Spider-Blizzard's form lying on his carpeted floor, watching as her chest rose and fell unevenly, and hearing the slightly strained wheeze in his breath as he shifted uncomfortably. Whimpers of pain emerged from Spider-Blizzard's throat, and she suddenly coughed harshly, a gloved hand unconsciously moving to his stomach.
Oliver swallowed, eyes full of empathy, and he moved forward, arms wrapping around his hero's neck, face buried in the curve under his chin, as he tried to comfort him, but something was wrong. Spider-Blizzard felt hot, really hot. He placed a tiny hand on his hero's forehead, and could immediately feel the heat radiating off it in waves.
Feeling distressed, Oliver looked around his room, trying to come up with any idea of what might help her feel better, before he then got up, and ran over to a brown cupboard. Rummaging around for a moment, he messed with its contents, before emerging with a small plastic box with a handle.
Kneeling down beside the arachnid, he opened the lid, revealing a tiny, toy doctor's kit inside. Leaving it there, he then left the room, quietly shutting the door behind him.
Barely minutes passed before he was creeping back in, a wet washer in hand.
Once again moving back over to Spider-Blizzard, he laid it on her forehead, smoothing it down.
"There you go, Spider-Blizzard. Mummy always puts a cool towel on my head when I'm sick, so maybe it will help you feel better too," he said out loud, before giving Spider-Blizzard's cheek a quick kiss, and once again curling up to the hero's neck.
They stayed like this for a moment, the boy listening closely to Spider-Blizzard's breaths, before he lifted his head from Spider-Blizzard's neck, and reached over to his toy stethoscope. Placing the end on Spider-Blizzard's chest, he tried to search out his heartbeat, only to have no success through the pretend plaything, and his face screwed up in worry. Throwing it back in its box, he moved so he was leaning over Spider-Blizzard, and grabbed either side of her, giving her a shake.
"Spider-Blizzard?" he asked, and small tears began to trickle down his nose. "Spider-Blizzard?!" he called, before sobs slowly started to rack her form.
Noticing Spider-Blizzard was beginning to shiver slightly, he crawled over to his bed and balled his hands up in the fabric of his comforter, before he then dragged it over to Spider-Blizzard's unresponsive form, and began to wrap the black and blue Spider-Blizzard blanket around his wounded body.
He sat there for a while, just watching Spider-Blizzard sleep, before he got another idea, and once again disappeared out of the room.
Sneaking into the kitchen, he dragged a short stool over to one of the cupboards, and stood on it. Reaching up, he swung open the door, and grasped his hand around one of the many glasses on the shelf. Carefully removing it, he got down again and set it on the bench, before trotting over to the fridge, and pulling out a carton of milk. Running back to the glass with the contents swishing about, he wound off the lid, before carefully pouring the white, creamy substance in. Putting it back again he then ran over to another cupboard, peering inside, before he grabbed a packet of biscuits, and pulled one out, placing it on a small saucer. He then grabbed both items, and headed back to the room.
Creeping in, he placed the tediously collected items down next to Spider-Blizzard, before grabbing Spider-Blizzard's head, and shifting it slightly towards them. Picking up the biscuit, he moved it over to Spider-Blizzard's mouth, waving it around. Spider-Blizzard didn't respond.
"Look Spider-Blizzard, I brought you food!" the boy tried to coax cheerfully, while instead picking up the milk and holding it towards him. But the hero didn't make any action of recognition, remaining still other than the jagged rise and fall of his chest.
Oliver choked, moving forward, and tried shifting Spider-Blizzard's head further, patting at his cheek. "Spider-Blizzard!" he said, before the distress finally took its toll, and he burst into tears.
Milk and biscuit abandoned, Oliver curled into the hero's form, as his body shook with sobs, the tears now flowing freely. He whimpered, pressing his face under Spider-Blizzard's chin, hands clasping the hero desperately.
He stayed like that, cries muffled and silent, as the night went on, the sounds of thunder long faded in the distance.
Voices, cheerful and eager, made their way into Oliver's consciousness, and he stirred in his sleep - stretching his arm out lazily. He felt tired, exhausted. He didn't want to wake up, and the thought of having to made his body feel heavy.
Louder, the voices were getting louder. Oliver blinked his eyes open in confusion, before a female voice yelled strongly outside his door, clear as a bell.
"Come on, sleepy head. You can't sleep in forever!" And it was opening, his door was opening!
Oliver scrambled up in a rushed hurry, pushing himself onto his knees, just as it swung in, and the face of his mother appeared through the crack.
"Oh!" she yelled, the minute she saw the scene before her, and dropped the glass of juice she'd been taking him. It shattered on the floor. Her hands clamped over her mouth in shock as her breath came in shuddering gasps.
"Honey? Honey, what is it!? Is everything alright?" was yelled, and then within barely a minute his father's face was there too, staring with pretty much the same amount of alarm as his mother.
Oliver blinked up at them lazily - the disturbed night getting to him, as it was hard to keep his eyes open - from where he sat leaning slightly over the figure on the floor.
Following their line of sight, he looked down at the painfully familiar form on the ground, which'd barely moved an inch. She was breathing normally now, his breaths even and calm, she looked much more relaxed. It wasn't hard to know she was doing better. The sun had now come up, basking the room in a bright, golden light. It was comforting to Oliver, and the beams seemed to sparkle off the superhero's lenses, making them look bright and friendly.