Archive of Our Own ^beta

Peter frowns down at his side, where his knuckles are white from clutching at a two-day-old wound. “I thought this would have healed by now. This should have healed by now.”

Danny shrugs a shoulder, thumbs still flicking absently at his video game controller even as he peers at Peter’s side. “Maybe it’s just taking a little longer. Stretching it like that can’t be good for any wound, even a super-heal-y one.”

“Maybe,” Peter says with a frown.

Matt appears in his office doorway the second Peter walks into Nelson, Murdock and Page, brow creased, head tilted to one side, nostrils flaring.

“Ooh, is that coffee?” Karen makes a beeline for Peter, gaze fixed on the cup-holder in one of his hands. “Did you get coffee for us?”

“Well, it wouldn’t do me any good,” Peter says, shrugging and grinning.

“You’re a sweetheart,” Karen tells him. She plucks up one of the coffee cups – from the place just down the block, Peter likes it there because it’s quiet and calm – and takes a long glug. “Ah! Perfect.”

“Foggy, get in here,” Matt calls, still not turning his head away from Peter, still sniffing the air. “Peter brought coffee.”

“Coffee!” Foggy is there in a flash, looking delighted. “You’re my new favourite,” he says as he takes the second coffee, patting Peter’s shoulder. “And to what do we owe this pleasure?”

“I, uh…” Peter looks to Matt. “I have a…well…” He trails off, unsure how to phrase it.

“I know,” Matt says, tone mild but mouth downturned. “Why don’t you come into my office?” He steps aside, leaving his doorway clear.

Karen and Foggy share a Look that Peter can’t read.

He says, “That sounds good,” and tries to ignore his voice cracking.

Karen and Foggy’s Look intensifies.

Matt ushers him into his office, closes the door behind him, then takes the last remaining coffee and settles down on the desk.

“Why,” he asks, voice measured and calm in a way that means he’s anything but, “are you bleeding, Peter? Claire put you on medical leave four days ago.”

Peter focuses on a crack in the ceiling, avoiding looking at Matt. “I,” he starts, then stops. Tries again. “I don’t know,” he manages to say. “I don’t—I have been on medical leave. I haven’t—it’s the same wound.”

“Oh.” Matt’s face does something complicated, cheeks paling. “Oh.”

“Yeah.” Peter bites his lip, trying to stop the tears pricking at his eyes. “Yeah, I know.”

“Is it…Is it not healing?” Matt’s hands clench around his cane, knuckles whitening. “You need to see Claire.”

Claire takes one look at the wound on Peter’s side and says, “Huh.”

“That’s not good,” Peter says. “That can’t be good, right? Tell me if it’s not good.”

“You seem to have already made your mind up on that,” Claire says, dry.

“I’m sure it’s fine,” Matt tells Peter. He turns to Claire. “It’s fine, right?”

“Oh my god, what if I’m losing my powers?” Peter twists his hands together. “What if—what if it was only ever temporary? What if—”

“Whoa, slow down there.” Claire holds up a hand. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. You’re the biochemistry whiz kid, right?”

Peter’s cheeks heat. “That’s…that’s not…”

“Then you know the process to prove something.” Claire raises an eyebrow at him. “Hypothesis, testing, publishing, peer review.”

“Yeah,” Peter says, “but I can’t exactly go online with ‘what to do if you’re losing your spiderman powers and what do you mean, I’m totally not spiderman—’”

Matt, though, seems to understand what Claire is getting at. “Try sticking to the wall.” He raps his cane against the wall. “That’s a test.”

“I can’t do that,” Peter hisses.

One eyebrow flicking up, Matt asks, “Why not?”

“Because—” Peter glances around the hospital corridor. “What if someone sees?”

“I’ll tell you if someone’s approaching,” Matt says, mild.

“But—”

“You’re not losing your powers, Spidey,” Claire says. “There’s no reason to be scared.”

“I’m not scared!” Peter immediately protests. “I’m not.”

“Then do it.” Claire crosses her arms. “Prove this, and then I’ll look you over.”

With a final glance around, Peter sighs then presses his hand to the wall. He tries to hide just how relieved he is when it sticks, but judging by Matt’s knowing expression, he doesn’t do very well.

“There’s something weird in the wound,” Claire says without taking her eyes away from the cut.

It’s healed some, Claire says more than anyone else’s would other than maybe Jessica, but the skin is still puckered and red, and it itches.

“That doesn’t sound good,” Matt says, tone mild but shoulders tensing.

“Yeah, well maybe you could sniff it out.” Claire shakes her head and pulls back.

Peter, sat on an examination table in a room that Claire says is out of commission for ‘NDA-d reasons’, frowns. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Then his senses tingle, sharp and warning, and Peter jerks back just before something pointy and shiny and silver cuts his leg.

Matt is half out of his seat in less than second flat. “Peter? Peter, it’s nothing, nothing to worry about.”

“Whoa!” Claire backs up. “Sorry, I didn’t even think – it’s only slightly sharpened. I just need a little sample of whatever’s stuck in this to give to Matt. He can’t tell what it is when it’s healing to your wound.”

“…Oh.” Peter winces. “Sorry, I didn’t mean—it’s just, my senses are kind of sensitive.”

“No, it’s fine, it’s fine.” Claire holds out the metal instrument, letting Peter inspect it. “It’ll barely hurt, okay?”

Peter bites his lip, nods, then says, “Okay.”

Matt inhales, nostrils flaring, then pauses. His face does something complicated. “It’s…cayenne pepper?”

“Oh my god,” Jessica says, looking utterly delighted. “That’s—amazing, that’s actually amazing.”

Peter attempts a smile for her.

“Are you okay?” Luke asks, gentler, concerned.

“Yeah, I’m—I’m fine.” Peter shifts, pulling his legs closer to his chest, then winces when it stretches his still-healing wound. “It’s just, you know. A lot to take in.”

“You’re an actual spider!” Jessica crows. “You’re like a little spider baby, scared of cayenne pepper.”

“How did it even get in the wound?” Danny asks, face scrunched up.

“Claire thinks the guy was using a kitchen knife,” Peter says. “Just…hadn’t washed it since doing his cooking.”

“Huh,” Luke says.

“And…” Peter shrugs a shoulder, the motion tight. “…she thinks it’ll probably scar.”

His first one since becoming Spiderman. The first mark it’s leaving on his body.

What happens if someone at school asks about the six-inch scar that’s jagged and thick and red and livid.

“Oh, unlucky,” Danny said. “It’s not going to be nearly as cool as some of my scars.”

“Better than most of mine,” Luke says, voice dry.

Peter frowns. “You have scars? But, I thought…”

“I had a childhood before all of—” Luke gestures down at himself. “—this. I did stupid things, I fell out of trees. You know what it’s like.”

“I, uh.” Peter winces. “I wasn’t the most adventurous of children. Spiderman was…a big adjustment.”

Jessica tilts her head to one side and, grin on her face, asks, “What other spider characteristics do you have?”

“Whoa, man,” Ned breathes, eyes wide, drinking in the scar. “That’s such a badass scar! How did you get that? Fighting drug dealers?”

“Uh…” Peter shifts, gently pulling Ned’s hand away from the wound. He’s having to learn all sorts of new things about healing wounds to look after this, but Claire said to keep it as clean as possible. “More like a guy who couldn’t be bothered to do his washing up.”

“That’s epic.”

“…If you say so.” But Ned’s excitement is infectious, and Peter can’t help but grin too.