Some days are really freaking not. Peter fights and he falls and he keeps getting back up. He'd call for backup, but he doesn't have time. It's an Inheritor, a vampire-wannabe tailor-made to kill spiders. When one shows up in town, you do everything you can to fix the problem, because they don't care about collateral damage and they just. Keep. Coming.
But the worst thing about them is that they're smart. They learn. The trick you used last time doesn't work the last time. They're... people. Evil people, but people, highly cunning and adaptive.
This one's named Morlun, and he's a real piece of work.
There's more than that, more detail and nuance, but it doesn't matter. Peter gets dropped from five stories up and he's out of web fluid. The wet crack of the pavement beneath him is all he knows. Someone calls paramedics, but by then he's completely gone to the world. The fact that they find a pulse feels like a miracle to the woman who puts him on a stretcher. She also fends off the news vehicles already heading toward the scene, following them to the hospital.
No one knows who Spider-Man is, but he goes into surgery anyway. The mask gets discarded somewhere along the way, but by then, his face is too much of a ruin to be identified. The sedatives are at a normal human dosage-- so they do nothing for Peter-- but he's been knocked unconscious from the head injury and pure exhaustion. It doesn't matter.
His subconscious only awakens, twitching and instinctual, when he senses the presence of another predator approaching.
There's very few times that Matt genuinely, positively worries about Peter. For all his shittalking, for all Peter's whining, Peter is actually really, really, really good at what he does and it makes it hard for Matt to ever find a reason to doubt his actions. When he gets tense and explains to Matt about the Inheritor and tells him he's going to go deal with it ASAP, Matt trusts him to do so.
What he doesn't like is how he hears just a while later about Peter -- or Spider-Man rather -- in the hospital and so damaged they can't positively ID him. That's good fucking luck right there but also enough to make Matt feel sick to his stomach. He grimaces and in his panic, isn't sure what to do. He's about to go as Matt Murdock, claim he's his SO or... his lawyer? Can he be Spider-Man's lawyer? Foggy talks him down, tells him to put on his other suit and sends him out the window.
He registers on Peter's heartbeat the moment he's in the vicinity of the hospital and it takes no time to swing up to his window and linger on the windowsill as he breaks the lock open. He only picks up on one figure in the room, Peter, and he's in bed. Seems like he's asleep and that's fine for Matt, better than dead or in pain. After he gets the lock open, it's easy to slip inside and head towards the bed.
Quietly, as he pushes back his cowl there's a "Pete?" because yeah, Matt's heart is still in his throat and he needs to know if Peter is okay.
Morlun's heart doesn't quite beat, his footsteps don't quite fall. There's something about what he is that's more and less than the sum of a physical being. Coming from the first Earth, on which all others are based, he has a certain superiority over matter. This, at least, is what he'd tell you.
His voice, though sonorous and deep, sounds just like any other man's. "If you wish to join him, that can be arranged." He opens his hands, and portals enlarge in the palms like hungry mouths.
It's a rare thing for Matt to be caught off guard and he hesitates, halfway towards the bed and with his entire being focused on Peter. It's why he's not able to catch the unnatural shift of a creature in here until slowly his radar sense picks up on the man... beast... thing. He's shaped like a man but doesn't feel like one and Matt can't hear a heartbeat. That's not great.
Immediately, his hand drops to the cane in his pocket and he braces himself for an attack. He still needs to check Peter, needs to let him know he's there and he doesn't know how and oh fuck, this is the Inheritor dude, isn't it? Fuck, fuck, fuck.
"If you're going to attempt to kill me, it would be more polite if we went outside first. Just saying."
"The wants of chattel are beneath me." He strikes out with a casual strength that could rip through walls, tear concrete, break bone in the blink of an eye. There's no real warning, no increase in nonexistent pulse, no flinch, no tell. He is a predator, and humans like this aren't even on the food chain. Snacks, sustenance in case of need and little else, nothing important or worthy of discretion. He doesn't care where he hits this horned-man, he doesn't care if he kills him or not, or how badly he's wounded in the process. His only intention is to send the man flying across the room, away from Morlun and his prey.
On the hospital bed, Peter lets out a sharp exhale, his head twitching to the side.
Matt doesn't even have time to brace for it. There's nothing, no indication, no tell, nothing until he's suddenly slammed into the wall so hard he feels his teeth clatter. He sinks down into a slump on the floor, holding onto his middle and breathes out harshly as he tries to take a moment to question the damage on his ribs. Okay, ow. Bruised but not broken. That hurt and Matt's out of his league but he can't... leave. He can't leave this guy with Peter and he can't let him hurt him.
"God, you suck."
Then Matt's pushing up from the floor, pulling out his cane and snapping it into two clubs as he braces himself for more. He definitely shouldn't be fighting after a hit like that but the alternative is... just not something he can do. This is Peter.
"Get away from him."
He can barely tell where Morlun actually is on his radar and that's tapping into that bit of Matt that makes him really angry about the things he can't control. Stick would've already figured out a way around it, been able to stop the guy in a blink and laughed at Matt about it. Matt will never be as good but god damn, he could try.
The crash is when Peter sits up. He doesn't sit up like a normal person would, wounded and slow, and he doesn't sit up like some mummy in a horror movie, all at once. No, Peter sits up with an entirely different posture, slow and crooked, preditory. All human posture is suddenly gone. He thinks with his hands and his nose.
He pulls the breathing tube out of his mouth while Morlun is distracted, taunting Matt on the floor. "You deign to direct me?" Morlun drawls, and in his overconfidence doesn't seem to notice Peter pulling a length of plastic out of his throat. He only turns around when the machines begin to scream as Peter pulls the pulse tracker off his finger, the IV out of his arm with a distracted, almost confused rush, no precision at all in his movements.
"Oh," Morlun says, "It's happening again. I thought-"
But whatever Morlun thought is cut off by Peter launching himself off the bed on all fours, connecting with Morlun's shoulders and beginning to slash at the Inheritor's face with long, poisonous talons that have suddenly sprouted from Peter's wrist. There's a hissing yowl, entirely inhuman, and only a keen sense of hearing would pinpoint that it came from Peter, not the immortal night-prowler.
Matt's entire body is going to freeze when he senses the strange movements happening on Peter's bed. He still keeps the clubs up, bracing himself for whatever's about to happen next but his heart is hammering at the thought of something happening to Peter. That's Peter's body, that's what all his senses are telling him, but something strange is happening to it and Matt can't figure out an explanation. This is way out of his league.
Then the Peter shape is launching itself at the Inheritor guy and Matt has zero idea what's happening but well, he's not the one being attacked. He drops his arms and slumps against the wall, a club dropping from his hand as he holds his chest again. He's trying to make sense of what's happening to the other guy but the yowl rings through his head and makes Matt wince, other club dropping as the other hand instinctively jumps up to his ear.
Is that Peter? What the hell is happening to Peter?
"Peter! Peter!"
Matt takes a step forward, reaching out a hand but still incredibly hesitant because he doesn't... know what's happening. For all his radar and senses, this is all kind of confusing for him without sight. Something's growing out of Peter's wrists and he can't tell what it is and he's trying to figure it out -- is something possessing Peter? Is that what this is?
Spiders pin their victims with poison or webbing and suck the juices from their heads. Spiders are predators, not prey. The appeal, for the Inheritor, is preying on an apex. It's also a tremendous display of hubris.
The Spider pins its prey, its attacker, and uses newly sharpened fangs to tear and rip into Morlun's face. Of course, being an immortal, it doesn't get much sustenance. Inheritors aren't made of the stuff this world is made of. Once the head is gone, the rest of the body begins to drift, sinking into ash that blows out the window. No blood is left on the Spider's face, on its fangs or its one gaping eye.
But the threat is gone. Time to shore up in safety for later. The Spider spins a web-- there's a faint memory of needing metal to do this, something around its wrist?-- but it's easy to simply lift its wrists and spin webbing organically. The scent is different-- starch and human bodily fluid and something more insectoid-- in short, it smells the way a spider-web smells, if one's ever smelled such a thing.
The Spider climbs into the center of it and waits, listening to the vibrations on its web. The hospital creaks slightly in the wind, footsteps echo down the hall, a squirrel jumps from a nearby tree, and all those vibrations collate in the Spider's web.
Did Peter just kill that guy? Can whatever that guy is be... killed? Matt's not sure. He frowns, feeling awkward and discomfited as he watches Peter pull away from where the man was and crawl elsewhere.
There's a crinkling of Matt's nose at the stench of the spider web because that... doesn't smell like Peter's usual formula. Matt knows too, there's no webslingers on those wrists, this is something different. It makes his stomach churn slightly to think of Peter shooting web from his wrists, like a real spider, and it makes the worry grow even more. This is still... this is still Peter, right?
He's not going to move until the Peter shape settles in the web and then he'll let himself take a few steps forward towards him. Maybe it's better that he can't see Peter like this, like... whatever's possessed him right now. Maybe that'll make all this easier. Matt's entire body feels like a bruise from slamming into the wall but that's not as important as this, as making sure Peter is okay.
A bit quieter he asks, "Peter, is that still you?"
The other creature in the room is no threat, and not prey, so the Spider gives a warning hiss. That is... something doesn't make sense in the mind of a creature that only exists to kill and survive. This is why he was chosen-- he, not it-- to be this, so he wouldn't-
It's all a little familiar, and the Spider can't place it together in such a simple mind, but Peter can. Peter is capable of complexity. Peter is not... capable of staying on the web like this. Probably he could, if he wasn't a mess right now, but his stitches are still healing, and he's-
Peter hits the ground with a thud. His voice is weak. "That sucked." He doesn't... really remember most of it, and what memories he has are fading fast.
There's no hesitation from Matt before he's dashing forward onto his knees and gathering Peter up in his arms so he can hold him against his chest. One arm around his shoulders, the other around his chest as he tugs him in forward and ignores the pressure on his ribs as he's pressing his face into Peter's hair. He's back, he's back, he's back.
"Pete, I think you just got possessed by a spider demon."
He's just... saying. This whole thing is weird and his nose is still full of cobweb stench and he kind of wants to leave this hospital room really badly. Except Peter's here and Matt's not going to be anywhere Peter isn't, so he can wait it out. Instead, he's got his nose in Peter's hair and that makes things a little better instead.
"Nnnnnot again," Peter murmurs. He's completely limp, happy to be off the cold of the floor. Well, in the hospital gown, his bare ass is still on linoleum, but this is still an improvement. Matt's warm, and Peter's one non-swollen-shut eye can see his blurry figure, and that's nice. He's all red. It's a good color.
Through a cloying cocktail of painkillers and very real pain, Peter tries to think clearly. He's not... entirely sure what just happened, except it feels familiar. And last time-
Well, that gives Matt a little bit of insight here even if he's still kind of... concerned. Again? Seriously, Peter? Matt's just going to readjust a little, sliding an arm under Peter's knees and getting a bit more secure around his middle as he moves to lift him up from the floor. He'll carry him towards the bed, with the intention of tucking him back in. He'll call a nurse in a bit to get him hooked back up but he just... needs a minute.
"The Inheritor? Yes. You did something with... fangs? I think you had fangs? Christ."
Then he's got Peter back in the bed and he'll take some time to tuck him back in, placing him gently against the pillow and smoothing out the covers over him. He'll sit down next to him after, fingers curling through his hair and petting a few times.
"When you're better, we have to talk about the spider demon thing, by the way."
"Dun' wanna," Peter says, making a troubled noise. He tries to open his other eye, fails, and groans with the pain of it. Peter reaches out with what strength he has left to him and grabs at Matt, trying and failing to get a handful of his clothing. He red. His uniform. He came here as Daredevil. That means something could be wrong, but all the pieces are out of place; Peter can't quite figure it.
His hand flaps uselessly in the air, still grabbing for Matt.
It hurts to bend but it hurts even more to leave Peter so Matt's going to slide closer, pressing his lips to Peter's forehead as he lets Peter grab him as he'd like. He even slides lower a bit to sit against him, not quite laying but not quite sitting up either. More kisses to Peter's face, gently, around the swollen areas.
"I'm here, I'm not leaving. Don't turn into... that thing again and we're good."
It's kind of nice to just... focus on this after spending the last few hours panicking over where Peter was, if he was dead, what Matt could do to help and more. Peter was in surgery and Matt couldn't get in because he was Spider-Man and no one knew who Matt was in relation. He couldn't even get in if it was Peter though because... well, he's not his spouse.
Peter tries to think. It's deeply, soul-scouringly annoying that he can't. Thinking is the thing he's good at, one of the few. He shakes his head.
"Can't-" It hurts to talk. It feels like something was ripped out of his throat. "Stronger than drugs. The- what they're giving me." It hurts too much to sleep.
Now that he's coming back to himself, the pain is becoming a problem; his breathing picks up slowly and steadily. "Wasn't a demon."
That... doesn't make Matt very happy because he isn't sure how to fix it. It's Peter, he wants to make sure Peter's okay and the fact that he's in this much pain is just... Matt chews on his lip a little and curls a bit closer against him, sliding lower on the bed until it's not his fingers in Peter's hair but his face. His fingers instead move to brush over the side of his head, skimming over his cheek.
"Don't talk, I can hear how much it hurts. I can call Danny, he can help heal your chi or try and get the nurses to up your meds. I don't know. I can also just stay here."
But the spider not-demon thing is still something to worry about because what if it happens again? What if Matt can't stop it? ... Should Matt stop it? Should he even be worried?
"Hey... we'll talk more when you're better but if it's not a demon, just nod for me yes or no, is it something dangerous? Should I be careful?"
"The press..." Sorry, Peter's stubborn; he's gonna keep yapping. He can feel the stitches in his stomach, in his gut, the pain radiating all over his face, and... it's a bit nauseating. "Need to leave. Please."
But the idea of Matt being worried is... bad. Peter shakes his head, groans with pain, and just says, "never hurt you."
His breathing continues to quicken, his pulse raises to match it. It hurts, it hurts, and-
Someone's banging on the door... the door which Peter inadvertently webbed closed when he was going full totem. They must be responding to the fact that Peter's been flat-lining for the last... his sense of time feels distorted.
It's like things just keep happening one after another. Matt looks up when he hears the footsteps racing to his room and then the banging on the door has him wincing. His fingers keep idly stroking Peter even as he gets distracted thinking of how he's going to get Peter out of here.
"Okay, okay. Kidnapping Spider-Man is a go," is all Matt mumbles as he pulls away from him with one last kiss to his forehead. It'll take too long to get Peter in the spider-suit so he's going to grab it from where the nurse left it and roll up the fabric to tuck it away into his belt. The mask is a little ripped but still there and the webslingers he'll grab as he gets back to Peter.
He's going to be gentle as he tugs Peter's hands up and puts the webslingers back on. He's not in any shape to swing but he knows Peter won't be happy without them on. He'll make sure they're on and secure before he's pulling away from him to grab his cane back from the floor.
He opens the window to prep them and makes sure everything is on and secure before he's going back to Peter to wrap him in the hospital sheets as he can before he's picking him up to hold against his chest.
"This is going to hurt a whole lot but it's the best I can do and we're not far from home."
His ribs are screaming at him as he carries Peter towards the window and as he gets them through the window and as he shoots off the cane for their swing. This is going to suuuuuuuck.
Everything hurts. More hurt won't... matter. Peter has a high threshhold for pain in general-- he's been hit in every conceivable way since he was fifteen. The difference is, he trusts Matt, not these doctors. So Peter curls into the tightest ball he can manage, holds on with all the strength he has, ignores the feeling of his stitches popping, and murmurs, "love you," into Matt's chest. It's all he can do.
The trip is absolutely awful because he feels like he's about to explode and then he can't imagine how Peter feels. It's awful, it's terrible, but Peter trusts him and Peter needs to get out of there. So, Matt will do it.
One excruciating trip through the city later, they'll land on Matt's balcony and Matt doesn't stop moving. He just readjusts to scoop Peter up under his knees and he's shouldering his way into the apartment and towards the bed. It's when they finally get there that Matt sets Peter down onto it gently and gets to work making him comfortable. The webslingers will go again but Matt will put them on the beside table just in case.
Then he's tugging off his cowl and gloves, throwing them to the floor as he heads to the bathroom and gets the first aid kit. He needs the heavy duty painkillers, the one Matt stole the last time he was at Avengers Tower and he's getting a glass of water too before coming back to Peter.
"Here, take like... I don't know, six of these? I need to check your stitches too. Shit, I should call the Night Nurse."
Why didn't he think of that first? He's an idiot. Either way, he's going to crawl into bed next to Peter and offer him the painkillers and water just to get started.
Peter tries to sit up in bed, swears when his gut protests, and looks down to see the popped stitches seeping dark blood. He ignores it, lying back and grabbing far more than six to dry swallow, which almost hurts worse-- what was down his throat.
"L'be fine," he drawls. He begins pulling bandages off his face-- they're just annoying him. "Heal inna few days. Sorry 'bout your sheets..." The blood has begun to drip over the side of his chest, and the hospital gown isn't doing much to absorb it. Peter paws for his webshooters, a little groggy.
See, Matt would be able to ignore this if his nose wasn't stuffed full of the scent of Peter's blood and Peter wasn't slowly soaking his sheets in it in a way that means Matt won't be able to not smell his blood anytime he gets in this bed. That's not great. That's buy-a-new-mattress levels of not great for Matt and if he was a dog, he'd be making a high pitched whine at this point but instead he just feels a little antsy.
"Please... drink some water..." is all Matt manages to mumble out because he's kind of useless at this taking care of people thing and he'll press the glass against Peter's hand instead of letting him get his webshooter. He'll urge him to lift his head up to have some because well, everything is telling him Peter's throat hurts and Matt is trying really hard not to freak out at the blood. This is easier to focus on.
"Your stitches... I can try restitching them but it would be better if it was someone who could see what they were doing. Please, let me call the Nurse. I know you'll heal but you're bleeding a lot, Pete."
This is one of the worst Matt's dealt with and Matt now realizes he's super awful at dealing with a banged up Pete. Good self-awareness, Matt!
"House calls?" He didn't know the Night Nurse made house calls. He'll take it, though. He's not moving again, is the thing. He doesn't know if he can. He's kind of not interested in seeing what he looks like from the inside.
A little weakly-- "Help me sit up?" A cough, and a cringe-- it just gets more blood and more pain in his throat. "Don't wanna choke."
That just gets a shrug from Matt and a "She owes me one." Because well, he's not sure if she makes house calls but she could for Matt. He's one of her biggest clients, come on.
But he will help Peter sit up and the worry bleeding off of him is... a lot. When he's up and secure and not dying, that's when Matt will make sure to give him some water and try and get it down his throat.
Then he's lightly running fingers through Peter's hair as he tries to keep him relaxed and as pain free as possible. Fuck, fuck, fuck. "Maybe I should've let the spider not-demon thing keep going because you seemed fine in your web."
Peter drinks the water, and that feels so much better. He gulps at it greedily until the glass is emptied, and then he feels like he can talk again, it's a miracle. "Totem," he says. "It wasn't... that was me. Just... less brain. Like Connors, but I never- it almost never comes out unless I'm- unless it's... almost curtains."
A raspy laugh. He leans into Matt, reveling in the comfort.
"Couldn't do it now. Would never hurt you." Matt's so nice... and soft and warm and not the hospital. "Love you."
Though, speaking of things that are the hospital... "If- Night Nurse, could I... not look like y-you stole me from a hospital?" He grimaces at the request-- he's asking Matt to dress him, which can't be fun, but he doesn't want to be in this flimsy hospital gown anymore. "And- water?"
It's the scent of lavender and milk that catches him guard. It does it in a severe way at that, makes him stumble mid-leap from one rooftop to another that has him crashing down a series of fire escapes and landing straight in a dumpster. He groans with the force of the crash and pulls himself up to lean out of it, trying to gauge exactly where he landed and exactly why he got thrown off so badly by that scent, that scent he could find out of a million different ones at any given moment. That was Karen's scent and catching a whiff of it in the middle of Hell's Kitchen on a Friday afternoon is just... he doesn't know what to think about it.
That's when it occurs to him that the alley he crash landed in is right outside of his office. He feels a little confused about it because then that ramps this up from a coincidence to something intentional. Karen's scent, near the offices of Nelson & Murdock? Why? Is someone trying to do something to him?
He sniffs again and realizes the smell is not outside the building but inside. Well, no, it started outside but the source of it is inside. A woman. She's standing outside the office, talking to their receptionist. Some... temp that Matt can't remember the name of. He really should, whoops. But they only just set up shop again and she's only there for a week. She's telling the woman that neither Foggy Nelson and Matt Murdock are in today but she can take a message.
Matt swears, shoots his billy club up and makes a slapdash climb out of the dumpster, up the fire escape, and in through the window of his office. He's not super gentle about it, there's a crash as he trips halfway through and plummets to the ground, grabbing the chair in the process and having it land on him. That's not great. The temp is startled, he can hear it and she calls out a Who's there right in front of the Karen smelling lady. This has become... the opposite of subtle.
Matt just groans a little and then calls back "It's Matt! Sorry! Meant to let you know I was here!" And he can hear the temp's heartrate lower and her annoyance grow. Whoops. She tells the other woman, I suppose Mr. Murdock is here today and calls back to Matt, there's someone to see you!
Matt just yells back a "Be right there!" and he's already crawling out of his crash landing and stripping out of the Daredevil suit. He just shoves the red fabric into a desk drawer, bouncing up and down anxiously in his underwear as he heads to a closet and pulls out a spare suit. No real time to get it all together here so he's just pulling on his slacks and a dress shirt, buttoning it up quickly before he's stepping out into the hallway.
It's only too late that he realizes he's standing in front of the temp and the Karen scent with no shoes on and blood on his face from where he cut his forehead falling into the dumpster. Whoops. "Hello. How can I help you?" And it is Matt Murdock, tall and a little lanky. Pale skin, freckles, messy red hair. His red aviators are on a little haphazardly but his clothes don't look too bad. Just a little rumpled aside from the whole... sock mess.
The last thing she remembered was going to bed the night before, and she had no sense of any time passing, the way that sleep usually felt like a long pause. No, it was just that she suddenly woke up on the sidewalk outside of her favorite coffee shop, at 2 PM, with a splitting headache. It was a small mercy that she was fully dressed, considering she woke up to a small crowd of anxious looking onlookers. As it transpired, no one had really seen what happened to her. The best guess was that she had fainted.
That would have been concerning enough on its own. She was close enough to the office that walking there first made the most sense. But the more she walked, the more she noticed...little inconsistencies. Her phone reception had flat-lined and wouldn’t connect to any wifi networks. None of the newspaper headlines made a lick of sense. The date was wrong. The advertisements on the top of the cabs were completely foreign to her.
She just barely managed to strangle her anxiety with a firm grip of investigative reasoning when she pushed into the office and found a stranger sitting there. Huh. That was...huh. Well aware that she sounded slightly off, still she managed to gently probe the apparently new hire about Matt and Foggy’s whereabouts. The other woman tensed when a crash came from Matt’s office, but Karen’s shoulders actually relaxed. Finally – something normal.
And then the door opened.
There was a long beat of silence as Karen stared across the lobby at...what? What? That was plainly Matt – there was no mistaking those slightly ragged edges around his affable appearance. But he was all. Tall. And red haired. And...freckly. A laugh escaped her mouth before she could even hope to stop it, genuinely startled and more than a little desperate. “Wow, uh,” she shook her head and looked away for a moment, her lips pressed together. Her mind was whirring at a hundred miles a minute. The black out, the head ache, the details that had gone askew, Matt that was plainly not Matt. Something had happened to her.
“Sorry, uh, sorry for barging in without an appointment,” she managed finally. Would this Matt know her? It would probably be better to start from scratch while she tried to wrap her head around the shape of the thing she wasn’t ready to acknowledge. Her hands were shaking a little, and she folded her arms quickly, as if that would do anything to hide her frayed nerves from him. “I’m Karen Page. If you have a few minutes, I’d like to consult with you in private.”
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Some days are really freaking not. Peter fights and he falls and he keeps getting back up. He'd call for backup, but he doesn't have time. It's an Inheritor, a vampire-wannabe tailor-made to kill spiders. When one shows up in town, you do everything you can to fix the problem, because they don't care about collateral damage and they just. Keep. Coming.
But the worst thing about them is that they're smart. They learn. The trick you used last time doesn't work the last time. They're... people. Evil people, but people, highly cunning and adaptive.
This one's named Morlun, and he's a real piece of work.
There's more than that, more detail and nuance, but it doesn't matter. Peter gets dropped from five stories up and he's out of web fluid. The wet crack of the pavement beneath him is all he knows. Someone calls paramedics, but by then he's completely gone to the world. The fact that they find a pulse feels like a miracle to the woman who puts him on a stretcher. She also fends off the news vehicles already heading toward the scene, following them to the hospital.
No one knows who Spider-Man is, but he goes into surgery anyway. The mask gets discarded somewhere along the way, but by then, his face is too much of a ruin to be identified. The sedatives are at a normal human dosage-- so they do nothing for Peter-- but he's been knocked unconscious from the head injury and pure exhaustion. It doesn't matter.
His subconscious only awakens, twitching and instinctual, when he senses the presence of another predator approaching.
no subject
What he doesn't like is how he hears just a while later about Peter -- or Spider-Man rather -- in the hospital and so damaged they can't positively ID him. That's good fucking luck right there but also enough to make Matt feel sick to his stomach. He grimaces and in his panic, isn't sure what to do. He's about to go as Matt Murdock, claim he's his SO or... his lawyer? Can he be Spider-Man's lawyer? Foggy talks him down, tells him to put on his other suit and sends him out the window.
He registers on Peter's heartbeat the moment he's in the vicinity of the hospital and it takes no time to swing up to his window and linger on the windowsill as he breaks the lock open. He only picks up on one figure in the room, Peter, and he's in bed. Seems like he's asleep and that's fine for Matt, better than dead or in pain. After he gets the lock open, it's easy to slip inside and head towards the bed.
Quietly, as he pushes back his cowl there's a "Pete?" because yeah, Matt's heart is still in his throat and he needs to know if Peter is okay.
no subject
Morlun's heart doesn't quite beat, his footsteps don't quite fall. There's something about what he is that's more and less than the sum of a physical being. Coming from the first Earth, on which all others are based, he has a certain superiority over matter. This, at least, is what he'd tell you.
His voice, though sonorous and deep, sounds just like any other man's. "If you wish to join him, that can be arranged." He opens his hands, and portals enlarge in the palms like hungry mouths.
On the bed, Peter twitches in his sleep.
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It's a rare thing for Matt to be caught off guard and he hesitates, halfway towards the bed and with his entire being focused on Peter. It's why he's not able to catch the unnatural shift of a creature in here until slowly his radar sense picks up on the man... beast... thing. He's shaped like a man but doesn't feel like one and Matt can't hear a heartbeat. That's not great.
Immediately, his hand drops to the cane in his pocket and he braces himself for an attack. He still needs to check Peter, needs to let him know he's there and he doesn't know how and oh fuck, this is the Inheritor dude, isn't it? Fuck, fuck, fuck.
"If you're going to attempt to kill me, it would be more polite if we went outside first. Just saying."
no subject
On the hospital bed, Peter lets out a sharp exhale, his head twitching to the side.
no subject
"God, you suck."
Then Matt's pushing up from the floor, pulling out his cane and snapping it into two clubs as he braces himself for more. He definitely shouldn't be fighting after a hit like that but the alternative is... just not something he can do. This is Peter.
"Get away from him."
He can barely tell where Morlun actually is on his radar and that's tapping into that bit of Matt that makes him really angry about the things he can't control. Stick would've already figured out a way around it, been able to stop the guy in a blink and laughed at Matt about it. Matt will never be as good but god damn, he could try.
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He pulls the breathing tube out of his mouth while Morlun is distracted, taunting Matt on the floor. "You deign to direct me?" Morlun drawls, and in his overconfidence doesn't seem to notice Peter pulling a length of plastic out of his throat. He only turns around when the machines begin to scream as Peter pulls the pulse tracker off his finger, the IV out of his arm with a distracted, almost confused rush, no precision at all in his movements.
"Oh," Morlun says, "It's happening again. I thought-"
But whatever Morlun thought is cut off by Peter launching himself off the bed on all fours, connecting with Morlun's shoulders and beginning to slash at the Inheritor's face with long, poisonous talons that have suddenly sprouted from Peter's wrist. There's a hissing yowl, entirely inhuman, and only a keen sense of hearing would pinpoint that it came from Peter, not the immortal night-prowler.
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Then the Peter shape is launching itself at the Inheritor guy and Matt has zero idea what's happening but well, he's not the one being attacked. He drops his arms and slumps against the wall, a club dropping from his hand as he holds his chest again. He's trying to make sense of what's happening to the other guy but the yowl rings through his head and makes Matt wince, other club dropping as the other hand instinctively jumps up to his ear.
Is that Peter? What the hell is happening to Peter?
"Peter! Peter!"
Matt takes a step forward, reaching out a hand but still incredibly hesitant because he doesn't... know what's happening. For all his radar and senses, this is all kind of confusing for him without sight. Something's growing out of Peter's wrists and he can't tell what it is and he's trying to figure it out -- is something possessing Peter? Is that what this is?
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The Spider pins its prey, its attacker, and uses newly sharpened fangs to tear and rip into Morlun's face. Of course, being an immortal, it doesn't get much sustenance. Inheritors aren't made of the stuff this world is made of. Once the head is gone, the rest of the body begins to drift, sinking into ash that blows out the window. No blood is left on the Spider's face, on its fangs or its one gaping eye.
But the threat is gone. Time to shore up in safety for later. The Spider spins a web-- there's a faint memory of needing metal to do this, something around its wrist?-- but it's easy to simply lift its wrists and spin webbing organically. The scent is different-- starch and human bodily fluid and something more insectoid-- in short, it smells the way a spider-web smells, if one's ever smelled such a thing.
The Spider climbs into the center of it and waits, listening to the vibrations on its web. The hospital creaks slightly in the wind, footsteps echo down the hall, a squirrel jumps from a nearby tree, and all those vibrations collate in the Spider's web.
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There's a crinkling of Matt's nose at the stench of the spider web because that... doesn't smell like Peter's usual formula. Matt knows too, there's no webslingers on those wrists, this is something different. It makes his stomach churn slightly to think of Peter shooting web from his wrists, like a real spider, and it makes the worry grow even more. This is still... this is still Peter, right?
He's not going to move until the Peter shape settles in the web and then he'll let himself take a few steps forward towards him. Maybe it's better that he can't see Peter like this, like... whatever's possessed him right now. Maybe that'll make all this easier. Matt's entire body feels like a bruise from slamming into the wall but that's not as important as this, as making sure Peter is okay.
A bit quieter he asks, "Peter, is that still you?"
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It's all a little familiar, and the Spider can't place it together in such a simple mind, but Peter can. Peter is capable of complexity. Peter is not... capable of staying on the web like this. Probably he could, if he wasn't a mess right now, but his stitches are still healing, and he's-
Peter hits the ground with a thud. His voice is weak. "That sucked." He doesn't... really remember most of it, and what memories he has are fading fast.
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"Pete, I think you just got possessed by a spider demon."
He's just... saying. This whole thing is weird and his nose is still full of cobweb stench and he kind of wants to leave this hospital room really badly. Except Peter's here and Matt's not going to be anywhere Peter isn't, so he can wait it out. Instead, he's got his nose in Peter's hair and that makes things a little better instead.
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Through a cloying cocktail of painkillers and very real pain, Peter tries to think clearly. He's not... entirely sure what just happened, except it feels familiar. And last time-
"m'I dead?"
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"The Inheritor? Yes. You did something with... fangs? I think you had fangs? Christ."
Then he's got Peter back in the bed and he'll take some time to tuck him back in, placing him gently against the pillow and smoothing out the covers over him. He'll sit down next to him after, fingers curling through his hair and petting a few times.
"When you're better, we have to talk about the spider demon thing, by the way."
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His hand flaps uselessly in the air, still grabbing for Matt.
"Don't go."
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"I'm here, I'm not leaving. Don't turn into... that thing again and we're good."
It's kind of nice to just... focus on this after spending the last few hours panicking over where Peter was, if he was dead, what Matt could do to help and more. Peter was in surgery and Matt couldn't get in because he was Spider-Man and no one knew who Matt was in relation. He couldn't even get in if it was Peter though because... well, he's not his spouse.
That's not great.
"You need to sleep."
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"Can't-" It hurts to talk. It feels like something was ripped out of his throat. "Stronger than drugs. The- what they're giving me." It hurts too much to sleep.
Now that he's coming back to himself, the pain is becoming a problem; his breathing picks up slowly and steadily. "Wasn't a demon."
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"Don't talk, I can hear how much it hurts. I can call Danny, he can help heal your chi or try and get the nurses to up your meds. I don't know. I can also just stay here."
But the spider not-demon thing is still something to worry about because what if it happens again? What if Matt can't stop it? ... Should Matt stop it? Should he even be worried?
"Hey... we'll talk more when you're better but if it's not a demon, just nod for me yes or no, is it something dangerous? Should I be careful?"
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But the idea of Matt being worried is... bad. Peter shakes his head, groans with pain, and just says, "never hurt you."
His breathing continues to quicken, his pulse raises to match it. It hurts, it hurts, and-
Someone's banging on the door... the door which Peter inadvertently webbed closed when he was going full totem. They must be responding to the fact that Peter's been flat-lining for the last... his sense of time feels distorted.
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"Okay, okay. Kidnapping Spider-Man is a go," is all Matt mumbles as he pulls away from him with one last kiss to his forehead. It'll take too long to get Peter in the spider-suit so he's going to grab it from where the nurse left it and roll up the fabric to tuck it away into his belt. The mask is a little ripped but still there and the webslingers he'll grab as he gets back to Peter.
He's going to be gentle as he tugs Peter's hands up and puts the webslingers back on. He's not in any shape to swing but he knows Peter won't be happy without them on. He'll make sure they're on and secure before he's pulling away from him to grab his cane back from the floor.
He opens the window to prep them and makes sure everything is on and secure before he's going back to Peter to wrap him in the hospital sheets as he can before he's picking him up to hold against his chest.
"This is going to hurt a whole lot but it's the best I can do and we're not far from home."
His ribs are screaming at him as he carries Peter towards the window and as he gets them through the window and as he shoots off the cane for their swing. This is going to suuuuuuuck.
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One excruciating trip through the city later, they'll land on Matt's balcony and Matt doesn't stop moving. He just readjusts to scoop Peter up under his knees and he's shouldering his way into the apartment and towards the bed. It's when they finally get there that Matt sets Peter down onto it gently and gets to work making him comfortable. The webslingers will go again but Matt will put them on the beside table just in case.
Then he's tugging off his cowl and gloves, throwing them to the floor as he heads to the bathroom and gets the first aid kit. He needs the heavy duty painkillers, the one Matt stole the last time he was at Avengers Tower and he's getting a glass of water too before coming back to Peter.
"Here, take like... I don't know, six of these? I need to check your stitches too. Shit, I should call the Night Nurse."
Why didn't he think of that first? He's an idiot. Either way, he's going to crawl into bed next to Peter and offer him the painkillers and water just to get started.
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"L'be fine," he drawls. He begins pulling bandages off his face-- they're just annoying him. "Heal inna few days. Sorry 'bout your sheets..." The blood has begun to drip over the side of his chest, and the hospital gown isn't doing much to absorb it. Peter paws for his webshooters, a little groggy.
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"Please... drink some water..." is all Matt manages to mumble out because he's kind of useless at this taking care of people thing and he'll press the glass against Peter's hand instead of letting him get his webshooter. He'll urge him to lift his head up to have some because well, everything is telling him Peter's throat hurts and Matt is trying really hard not to freak out at the blood. This is easier to focus on.
"Your stitches... I can try restitching them but it would be better if it was someone who could see what they were doing. Please, let me call the Nurse. I know you'll heal but you're bleeding a lot, Pete."
This is one of the worst Matt's dealt with and Matt now realizes he's super awful at dealing with a banged up Pete. Good self-awareness, Matt!
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A little weakly-- "Help me sit up?" A cough, and a cringe-- it just gets more blood and more pain in his throat. "Don't wanna choke."
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But he will help Peter sit up and the worry bleeding off of him is... a lot. When he's up and secure and not dying, that's when Matt will make sure to give him some water and try and get it down his throat.
Then he's lightly running fingers through Peter's hair as he tries to keep him relaxed and as pain free as possible. Fuck, fuck, fuck. "Maybe I should've let the spider not-demon thing keep going because you seemed fine in your web."
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A raspy laugh. He leans into Matt, reveling in the comfort.
"Couldn't do it now. Would never hurt you." Matt's so nice... and soft and warm and not the hospital. "Love you."
Though, speaking of things that are the hospital... "If- Night Nurse, could I... not look like y-you stole me from a hospital?" He grimaces at the request-- he's asking Matt to dress him, which can't be fun, but he doesn't want to be in this flimsy hospital gown anymore. "And- water?"
Now he's just being needy.
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That's when it occurs to him that the alley he crash landed in is right outside of his office. He feels a little confused about it because then that ramps this up from a coincidence to something intentional. Karen's scent, near the offices of Nelson & Murdock? Why? Is someone trying to do something to him?
He sniffs again and realizes the smell is not outside the building but inside. Well, no, it started outside but the source of it is inside. A woman. She's standing outside the office, talking to their receptionist. Some... temp that Matt can't remember the name of. He really should, whoops. But they only just set up shop again and she's only there for a week. She's telling the woman that neither Foggy Nelson and Matt Murdock are in today but she can take a message.
Matt swears, shoots his billy club up and makes a slapdash climb out of the dumpster, up the fire escape, and in through the window of his office. He's not super gentle about it, there's a crash as he trips halfway through and plummets to the ground, grabbing the chair in the process and having it land on him. That's not great. The temp is startled, he can hear it and she calls out a Who's there right in front of the Karen smelling lady. This has become... the opposite of subtle.
Matt just groans a little and then calls back "It's Matt! Sorry! Meant to let you know I was here!" And he can hear the temp's heartrate lower and her annoyance grow. Whoops. She tells the other woman, I suppose Mr. Murdock is here today and calls back to Matt, there's someone to see you!
Matt just yells back a "Be right there!" and he's already crawling out of his crash landing and stripping out of the Daredevil suit. He just shoves the red fabric into a desk drawer, bouncing up and down anxiously in his underwear as he heads to a closet and pulls out a spare suit. No real time to get it all together here so he's just pulling on his slacks and a dress shirt, buttoning it up quickly before he's stepping out into the hallway.
It's only too late that he realizes he's standing in front of the temp and the Karen scent with no shoes on and blood on his face from where he cut his forehead falling into the dumpster. Whoops. "Hello. How can I help you?" And it is Matt Murdock, tall and a little lanky. Pale skin, freckles, messy red hair. His red aviators are on a little haphazardly but his clothes don't look too bad. Just a little rumpled aside from the whole... sock mess.
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The last thing she remembered was going to bed the night before, and she had no sense of any time passing, the way that sleep usually felt like a long pause. No, it was just that she suddenly woke up on the sidewalk outside of her favorite coffee shop, at 2 PM, with a splitting headache. It was a small mercy that she was fully dressed, considering she woke up to a small crowd of anxious looking onlookers. As it transpired, no one had really seen what happened to her. The best guess was that she had fainted.
That would have been concerning enough on its own. She was close enough to the office that walking there first made the most sense. But the more she walked, the more she noticed...little inconsistencies. Her phone reception had flat-lined and wouldn’t connect to any wifi networks. None of the newspaper headlines made a lick of sense. The date was wrong. The advertisements on the top of the cabs were completely foreign to her.
She just barely managed to strangle her anxiety with a firm grip of investigative reasoning when she pushed into the office and found a stranger sitting there. Huh. That was...huh. Well aware that she sounded slightly off, still she managed to gently probe the apparently new hire about Matt and Foggy’s whereabouts. The other woman tensed when a crash came from Matt’s office, but Karen’s shoulders actually relaxed. Finally – something normal.
And then the door opened.
There was a long beat of silence as Karen stared across the lobby at...what? What? That was plainly Matt – there was no mistaking those slightly ragged edges around his affable appearance. But he was all. Tall. And red haired. And...freckly. A laugh escaped her mouth before she could even hope to stop it, genuinely startled and more than a little desperate. “Wow, uh,” she shook her head and looked away for a moment, her lips pressed together. Her mind was whirring at a hundred miles a minute. The black out, the head ache, the details that had gone askew, Matt that was plainly not Matt. Something had happened to her.
“Sorry, uh, sorry for barging in without an appointment,” she managed finally. Would this Matt know her? It would probably be better to start from scratch while she tried to wrap her head around the shape of the thing she wasn’t ready to acknowledge. Her hands were shaking a little, and she folded her arms quickly, as if that would do anything to hide her frayed nerves from him. “I’m Karen Page. If you have a few minutes, I’d like to consult with you in private.”