The wind howled as I slipped through the shadows, slinging from one building to the next. It was a slow night in the streets of New York City, as the rain drizzled gently and thunder rumbled in the distance. I guess even crooks and thugs didn't like weather as miserable as this.
I was about to turn in early, go home, and study for my Chemistry Exam the following morning, when I heard the unmistakable sounds of a tussle coming from the next alley over. Creeping along the roof of a warehouse, I peered over the edge and glanced down to the street below.
"What's the word, Karen?" I whispered.
"I'm picking up 3 heat signatures," Karen answered. "Two males, both of them armed, and one woman, unarmed."
"That doesn't sound good," I murmur, half to Karen, half to myself.
"Please be careful, sir," Karen replied.
"When am I ever not careful?" I said with a light chuckle.
"Would you like that in alphabetical or chronological order?"
"I never should have introduced you to Tumblr," I muttered with a grimace. "I think I accidentally gave you some sass." I crept over the ledge, slinking down the wall as silently as I could manage.
"Bold of you to assume I didn't already have it," Karen responded cheekily. I smirked.
Just as Karen had said, the alleyway below us was inhabited by two men and a woman. The woman was backed against an old, rusting dumpster as the armed men, both wearing ski masks, shoved their pistols close to her face while wrestling for her purse. The woman was putting up an impressive fight, kicking and shouting at them viciously.
"Let me go!" she screeched angrily.
"I'd do what she says if I were you," I chimed in as I neared the ground.
The two men spun around. With the attention off of her, the woman sidled from behind them and bolted back to the main road. I lifted an arm off of the wall, grabbing the closer man's pistol with a web and throwing it to the pavement with a loud clatter. I launched myself into the air, grasping the wall on the opposite side of the alley. As the momentum swung me over the men, I landed a hefty kick into the empty-handed man's chest, sending him to the damp pavement with a groan. I couldn't help but let out a whooping shout in satisfaction.
Then came the gunshot.
There was a sudden force that slammed into my left arm. I blinked, and then the pain hit. My arm went limp. I collapsed mid-swing. My body fell to the asphalt as a hoarse cry escaped from my mouth. I hit the pavement with a thud, my ears ringing and my heart racing. I could faintly detect the sound of alarms blaring in my ear, and Karen saying something along the lines of "gunshot wound" and "pierced the brachial artery" and "going to bleed out".
"K-Karen?" I mumbled, shaking my head in an attempt to rid myself of the dizzying sensations. With a groan, I pushed myself back to my feet, glancing around to see that the two men had fled from the alley. I could hear sirens in the distance, undoubtedly in pursuit after the gunshot.
"Shall I call Miss May?" Karen inquired.
"No!" I protested, staggering towards the dumpster. I leaned against the metal surface, peering down through the visor to inspect the wound.
"Mr. Stark?"
"Definitely not," I answered as my fingers gripped the torn fabric of the suit. Blood was oozing from the wound, and as I glanced to the underside of my arm, I realized with a grimace that there was no exit wound. "Guess we're gonna have to dig this bullet out on our own," I said, biting my lip as a wave of fresh pain tore through my arm.
"There's a hospital -"
"I can't go to a hospital!" I interjected. "Remember the whole 'keeping my identity a secret' talk we had?"
"Keeping you alive is my top priority, Mr. Parker." I moaned, in part from the pain, and also from Karen's badgering. Then an idea sprang into my head as I surveyed my surroundings.
"H-how close are we to Midtown?" I asked.
"Midtown School of Science and Technology is eleven blocks to the north of our current location."
"Time to break into our favorite lab, then."
Swallowing the lump in my throat, I bounded down the alley and carefully scaled the brick wall at the end. Not an easy task with only one working arm, but not much of a choice. I gritted my teeth against the pain as my feet hit the pavement on the other side.
My vision became hazy, and spots swam before my eyes as I followed Karen's directions through the back streets and alleyways. I still wonder how I even made it to the back of the school without collapsing, but I didn't have any time to question my luck. Instead, I staggered to the nearest recognizable window on the bottom floor. The light was already on. Strange. I knew that Mr. Hodges liked to open the windows during labs to help with the chemical smells. I also knew that he occasionally forgot to lock the windows. My luck seemed to continue, and the window slid open with ease. I slid over the edge, slumping to the floor. I winced as blood pooled on the cold white tiles, and scrambled to my feet with as much haste as I could muster.
Before I could look around the lab for the proper tools, I noticed that there was someone else in the room. My heart stopped, my blood running cold.
"Spider-Man?" MJ exclaimed, dropping the pencil in her hands as she stood from the stool behind the far table. I clutched my wounded arm, my wits battling for control against the raging pain.
"Peter, you should leave," Karen whispered into my ear.
"M...ma'am," I said to MJ in a breathless tone, backing towards the window. "S-so sorry for bothering you -"
"You got shot!" she interrupted, rushing towards me.
"Peter!" Karen protested. I slid my hand to the side of my face, pressing the small button behind my ear that would mute her.
"I-I should go," I stammered, flinching as my back hit the windowsill behind me.
"Don't be stupid," MJ argued, grabbing my uninjured arm and dragging me away from the window. "Sit down. Let's patch you up." I stare at her in shock for a moment, but follow her instructions nevertheless.
"You don't have to do this," I murmured as I plopped down onto a stool.
"You've saved my life more than once," MJ responded with a dismissive wave of her hand. "Don't mention it."
I watched as she located a pair of tweezers, along with a bundle of string, scissors, a needle, a bottle of hydrogen peroxide, and a bandage from the first-aid kit. She took the seat next to me, and set to work, grabbing the tweezers first.
"It looks like it hit an artery," MJ mused, surveying the amount of blood seeping from the bullet wound.
"The b-brachial artery," I answered, swaying in my chair as I struggled to maintain consciousness.
"Hey, stay with me," said MJ, slapping my cheek. "You've lost a lot of blood, but you need to stay awake. Keep talking to me." Her words sounded distant, muffled even.
"S-stay... awake," I repeated, blinking rapidly. I bit down on my tongue to keep from crying out as MJ slid the tweezers into the wound.
"Sorry," she said as she withdrew the tweezers with the bullet nestled inside. "Now this is really gonna hurt."
Before my muddled mess of a mind could even process her words, she poured the hydrogen peroxide over the wound. Unable to contain myself against the pain, I screamed in agony. When the wave of pain began to subside, my vision blurred, and I could feel myself slipping away. MJ spoke with concern and panic, but her words were indecipherable to me.
Then everything went black.
When I awakened, I was sitting on the floor of the school lab, propped against the outward wall. It took a moment for my senses to realign themselves. When my vision cleared, I glanced down at my arm to see the wound stitched together neatly. It still throbbed in pain, but less than it had before.
MJ was sitting next to me, her eyes closed and her lips parted to release slow, deep breaths. Within my battered suit, I felt my stomach twist. She seemed so peaceful, and I hated to disturb her. But I couldn't leave her here.
I raised my hand to nudge her awake, resisting the temptation to run my fingers down her cheek, or through her hair. Instead, I shook her shoulder. The effect was instantaneous, and she bolted upright.
"Oh, you're awake," she mumbled, rubbing her eyes with one hand while the other pulled herself to her feet. I followed suit, taking my time to avoid putting unnecessary weight on the injured arm.
"Thanks for patching me up," I said, shifting my feet as I looked anywhere but her bright eyes. "What were you even doing here in the first place?"
"I study here most nights," MJ answered, shrugging her slight shoulders as she packed a stack of schoolbooks into her weathered backpack. "It's peaceful here. Not so peaceful at home." I paused, realizing for the first time how little MJ spoke about her life at home. I knew she lived alone with her father, but not much else.
"Well, can I walk you back?" I find myself saying, scratching the back of my neck as I await her response. She raises an eyebrow in skepticism.
"I don't think you're in much of a position to offer protection," she riposted with a tiny smirk as she headed for the open window.
"It's the least I can do," I replied, waiting until she had made it to the street outside before jumping after her. I struggle to hide the burst of pain that shoots through my arm.
"You should go home and get some sleep," MJ said, shouldering her pack as we paused at the crossroads outside of the school. "I know my way around these streets, trust me." She seemed to hesitate for a moment, then drew a piece of paper out of her pocket, beckoning for my hand. I held it out, my brow furrowed in confusion. She pressed the paper into my hand, then backed away.
"In case you need another patch-up," she called. My heart skipped a beat as she threw a wink in my direction, then darted down the nearest side street.
Blushing underneath my suit, I unfolded the piece of paper. A grin slid up the sides of my face. It was her name, followed by a phone number.
With a skip in my step, I returned to the night.