New York — Hospital — Morning
The hospital was already bustling despite the early hour. In the waiting room, several patients sat side by side, each quietly waiting for their turn. Some absentmindedly flipped through a magazine, others looked at their phones, while a few simply stared at the floor, lost in thought. Above them, a large screen displayed the numbers of the patients being called in for their appointments, accompanied by a soft chime that regularly broke the room's silence.
Seated among them, Peter also held his ticket in his hands. His eyes constantly shifted between the screen and the small slip of paper, as though he were repeatedly checking that he hadn't gotten the wrong number. Ever since the previous day, countless scenarios had been running through his mind. What if that syringe had contained something serious? A disease? A virus? The more he tried to reassure himself, the more his imagination found new reasons to worry.
The screen chimed once again.
This time, it was his number.
Peter discreetly took a deep breath before standing up and following the directions to the doctor's office.
A few moments later, he stepped into a modestly furnished room. Behind a light wooden desk sat a man in his fifties, dressed in a white lab coat. His expression was calm and kind—the expression of a professional accustomed to treating patients who were often more worried than they were actually sick.
The doctor invited Peter to sit across from him before taking his own seat.
— "Alright, young man... I'm listening. What's going on?"
Peter took a quiet breath before answering.
— "Well... yesterday, I was... I mean, while I was walking down the street, a man attacked me and injected me with a syringe. So I came here to get some tests done, some blood work... just to make sure I'm okay."
The doctor slowly nodded as he listened carefully to every word.
— "You absolutely did the right thing. This isn't the kind of situation you should take lightly. It can become a serious problem if it isn't identified or treated immediately."
Although those words were perfectly reasonable, they had the opposite effect on Peter. His stomach tightened slightly, and a thin layer of sweat began forming on his forehead. He did his best to keep a neutral, almost relaxed expression, but his smile felt somewhat forced. Behind that façade, his doubts only continued to grow.
The doctor immediately noticed his discomfort.
Used to seeing patients arrive burdened by their own fears, he offered a reassuring smile.
— "But don't worry. I'm sure it's nothing."
Those few words were enough to ease Peter's tension slightly. He returned a small smile, genuinely grateful for the doctor's attempt to reassure him.
The doctor then stood up from his desk.
— "Come on. Follow me."
He opened the door next to his office.
Peter followed him into the examination room.
Bathed in bright white light, the room was impeccably clean. In one corner stood an examination table covered with a perfectly stretched sheet of disposable paper.
Several diagnostic machines were neatly arranged against the walls, while a cabinet held the medical equipment needed for various examinations.
Nearby, a perfectly organized medical cart reflected the care given to every detail. The room carried that unmistakable hospital atmosphere: cold, orderly... yet reassuring in its own way.
The two men entered the room, and the door quietly closed behind them.
— "Could you sit on the examination table?"
He accompanied the request with a small gesture toward the table.
— "U-Um... sure."
Peter quietly sat down while the doctor walked over to the sink and carefully disinfected his hands. Once finished, he picked up a pair of gloves and slipped them on with the almost mechanical ease that came from years of practice.
— "I'm going to ask you a few questions, alright?"
— "Alright..."
The doctor walked over to him, still wearing the same calm expression that inspired confidence.
— "Can you tell me approximately how long ago it happened? As accurately as possible, of course."
Peter thought for a few seconds before answering.
— "About fifteen hours ago now. By tonight, it'll have been a full day."
The doctor nodded, mentally noting the information.
— "Alright... and what exactly happened? You told me a man attacked you, but can you give me any more details?"
At that question, Peter immediately felt a wave of discomfort return. He hesitated for a moment before gently shaking his head.
He was clearly uneasy.
— "Did you lose consciousness after the injection? Did you feel any burning or pain when he injected you? Or did you experience nausea, fever, dizziness, difficulty breathing, or anything else concerning?"
— "N-No... none of that."
The doctor remained silent for a few moments, reflecting on Peter's answers.
His eyes stayed fixed on him, searching for the slightest detail that might point him toward a more precise hypothesis.
— "Can you show me where you were injected?"
Peter nodded before slowly rolling up his sleeve. The doctor immediately stepped closer and carefully examined the area.
His movements were calm, precise, and methodical.
He inspected the skin from different angles before gently pressing around it, looking for any unusual reaction, tenderness, or signs of inflammation.
— "Do you feel anything when I touch the injection site?"
— "No."
— "And when you were injected, you didn't notice any swelling, redness, bruising, or signs of infection?"
— "N-No. Absolutely none of that."
The doctor slowly nodded, processing every piece of information before continuing his questioning.
— "Are your tetanus vaccinations up to date?"
— "Yes. They should be."
— "Alright... Let's do a quick examination. Is that okay with you?"
— "Yes, go ahead."
At that moment, Peter couldn't help letting out a quiet nervous laugh. Watching the doctor take so many precautions with him almost made him feel like he was being treated like a child. There was something strangely amusing about the situation... and a little embarrassing too.
He couldn't help thinking that less than a day earlier, he had been fighting criminals as Spider-Man, and now he was sitting on an examination table while a doctor carefully checked every aspect of his health. The contrast felt almost absurd.
Without wasting any time, the doctor began the routine examination. He first checked Peter's blood pressure, then measured his heart rate and temperature before using a small sensor clipped onto his fingertip to measure his blood oxygen level.
Every movement was carried out with calm efficiency, reflecting years of experience. The examination ultimately concluded with a blood draw, the doctor briefly explaining each step to reassure his young patient.
Once the final samples had been collected, he returned behind his desk to complete Peter's medical file. He spent a few moments reviewing all the results, comparing the different readings one last time to make sure he hadn't overlooked anything.
After several seconds of analysis, his expression remained perfectly calm.
For the moment, nothing appeared to be concerning.
Peter, on the other hand, watched every one of his movements with almost excessive attention.
The longer the silence lasted, the more his imagination began to spiral once again.
— "So...? Should I be worried...?"
The doctor finally looked up at him with a reassuring smile.
— "You can relax. Everything looks fine."
At those words, Peter felt all the pressure that had built up since the previous day vanish in an instant.
He let out a deep sigh of relief, as though he had been holding his breath ever since walking into the hospital.
— "I didn't find anything abnormal in your test results, which is very good news. However... in situations like this, some symptoms or infections can appear later."
Peter's relief was immediately replaced by a new wave of anxiety.
— "R-Really...?"
— "Yes. So if anything develops over the next few days, whether it's pain or an unusual mark where you were injected, come back immediately."
Peter slowly nodded. Even though the initial results were reassuring, he fully understood that the matter wasn't completely over yet.
— "And when will the test results be ready?"
— "You can come back in a week to get the lab results."
— "Alright, I understand. Thank you very much for your help."
— "You're welcome. I'm just doing my job. Have a nice day."
— "Thank you. You too."
Peter quietly left the doctor's office and returned to the hospital's main lobby. After paying for his consultation at the reception desk and collecting his belongings, he finally walked through the hospital's automatic doors.
The fresh air outside felt good.
Compared to when he had arrived a few dozen minutes earlier, he felt much lighter. Most of his anxiety had faded, and for the first time since the attack, he felt like he could breathe normally again.
And yet, one question kept circling endlessly through his mind.
Why?
Why had they injected him with that mysterious substance?
What were his attackers really hoping to accomplish?
No answer came to him.
— "I still don't know why they did that to me, but one thing's for sure... they'll tell me once I find them."
His expression immediately changed.
Every trace of hesitation disappeared from his face.
He wasn't joking anymore.
Peter slipped into a nearby alley, quickly made sure no one was watching, then skillfully climbed the walls until he reached the hospital rooftop. His backpack was waiting exactly where he had left it. Without wasting a second, he opened it, quickly put on his Spider-Man suit, pulled his mask back over his face, and immediately leaped into the open air.
Moments later, his silhouette was already swinging from web to web between New York's skyscrapers.
Only one thought occupied his mind now.
To find out why his enemies had injected him with that mysterious substance.
New York — Manhattan — Afternoon
For most of the afternoon, Peter tirelessly searched all over New York.
From one neighborhood to another, he swung between buildings, stopped for a few minutes, observed the streets, questioned pedestrians, then immediately moved on to another location.
Long Island City, Hell's Kitchen, Harlem, Central Park, Greenwich Village, Chinatown, the Financial District, the Upper East Side, Chelsea, Brooklyn, the Bronx... no part of the city seemed to escape his search. He eventually finished in Red Hook after covering a large portion of New York.
Despite all his efforts, he found absolutely nothing.
Several times, he dropped down to street level to describe his attackers to local residents or ask whether they had noticed anything unusual.
Some told him they knew nothing.
Others simply refused to spare him even a minute.
A few completely ignored him, continuing on their way as though he didn't even exist.
The hours passed.
His search wasn't getting him anywhere.
And the more time went by, the more frustration began to take over.
His shoulders grew heavy, his body exhausted from hours of nonstop web-swinging, while one question kept repeating itself in his mind:
How do you find a handful of people in a city as enormous as New York?
New York — Oscorp Tower — Rooftop
Eventually, Peter gave up his search for a while and made his way to the top of Oscorp Tower.
Up there, far from the constant bustle of Manhattan, only the wind disturbed the silence that filled the rooftop. Peter removed his mask, set his backpack beside him, and lay directly on the concrete.
With his arms spread out, he stared for a long time at the blue sky stretching above him. From that height, the city looked almost peaceful, as though nothing happening below could ever reach this place.
And yet...
He couldn't relax.
— "I did everything I could to find them, but Manhattan is huge. Even I can't search every inch of it, even if I can swing through the city. It would take me several days, even without counting breaks."
He let out a deep sigh, torn between frustration and helplessness.
For the first time in a long while, he truly felt the limits of his abilities.
Even with Spider-Man's powers, New York was still an enormous city...
Far too vast for one person to search alone.
Especially in such a short amount of time.
Suddenly, a vibration came from his pants pocket. Peter slightly turned his head before pulling out his phone.
The screen displayed a name that immediately made him sit upright.
Aunt May.
For a split second, his heart began racing.
Every worst-case scenario instantly flashed through his mind.
— "Aunt May?! Oh no... maybe something's wrong!"
Without wasting a second, he answered almost immediately.
He was so worried that his voice already betrayed his anxiety.
— "Aunt May, are you okay?! What's going on?!"
On the other end of the line, May was completely caught off guard by his reaction. She remained silent for a brief moment before letting out a fond little laugh.
— "E-Easy there, sweetheart! Everything's fine."
Those few words were enough to release all the tension that had built up inside Peter.
He discreetly let out a sigh of relief before slightly furrowing his brows, now more puzzled than worried.
— "H-Huh? Then what's going on? Why are you calling me?"
— "I woke up and you weren't here. I got a little worried and wanted to know where you were."
Peter lowered his eyes slightly, feeling a bit embarrassed.
With everything that had happened, he had left without even thinking to let her know.
— "Oh... I'm sorry. I should've told you, but I had something I needed to do."
May's voice remained as gentle as ever.
— "It's alright. Don't worry about it."
A brief silence settled between them.
A simple silence...
But a comfortable one.
Then May spoke again with the innocence that suited her so well.
— "Well, I'll let you go, sweetheart. Your aunt is about to flop down on the couch in front of the TV while enjoying a NICE big glass of juice."
Peter couldn't hold back a small laugh.
After spending hours running all over New York, that comment was so perfectly Aunt May that it naturally brought a smile to his face.
— "Alright, got it. Have fun."
He let out a quiet sigh.
— "I've still got a few errands to run around the city..."
A brief silence followed.
On the other end of the phone, Aunt May seemed to think for a moment, as though something Peter had said didn't quite make sense.
— "Around the city? But weren't you supposed to be with Gwen at your internship?"
Peter immediately frowned.
For a split second, he was completely lost.
— "Huh? What are you talking about?"
— "You know... the place you two go to all the time... with your science professor. I can't remember his name..."
As she continued speaking, Peter's eyes widened. His brain instantly made the connection, and a horrifying realization hit him.
His stomach tightened before Aunt May even managed to remember the name.
— "Curt... no... Curtis Connors! That's it! That's his name!"
Peter's heart seemed to skip a beat.
He was supposed to be at the lab.
How long had they been waiting for him?
— "Weren't you supposed to be there instead of wandering around the city? Peter... don't tell me you're skipping, are you?"
At that exact moment, his phone vibrated again.
A second call.
Peter instinctively looked down at the screen and saw:
Gwen Stacy.
The moment her name appeared, a wave of panic swept through his entire body. His mind began racing as he realized the magnitude of what he'd forgotten.
— "N-No, of course not, Aunt May! I just... I completely forgot... But listen, I have to go or I'm really going to be late! Don't worry, though, I'll make it on time. Thanks for reminding me—you seriously saved me!"
— "Oh, alright. You're welcome, sweetheart. Just be more careful next time."
— "I promise! Love you! Bye!"
He hung up immediately.
Without wasting a second, he was about to answer Gwen's call...
Too late.
The call had already ended.
Peter felt a chill run through his entire body. He briefly closed his eyes before letting out a quiet groan of despair.
He could already picture the look Gwen was going to give him.
Without hesitating any longer, he immediately called her back.
She answered almost as soon as it started ringing.
— "H... Hello...?"
— "Peter... where are you?"
Her voice was calm.
But that calmness was exactly what worried him.
Peter instantly sensed that something was wrong. All the panic he had just felt came rushing back.
— "I was... I mean, I..."
The words caught in his throat, and a long silence settled between them.
With every passing second, Peter felt more and more uncomfortable. He could have explained why he was late. He had a perfectly valid reason.
But deep down, he knew that wasn't the real issue.
He had simply forgotten.
He mentally lowered his head before answering in a tiny voice.
— "I'm sorry... I forgot..."
He hesitated for another moment before asking the question that truly worried him.
— "Are the Connors mad at me...?"
— "If you hurry, you'll only be about ten minutes late, so no... it's fine. Besides, they've known you long enough. They know what you're like."
Those few words were enough to ease Peter's worries a little.
An embarrassed smile appeared on his face.
He knew it wasn't the first time he'd been late...
And probably wouldn't be the last.
— "Tell them I'll be there as fast as I can! And Gwen... I'm really sorry."
— "...It's okay. Don't worry about it. Now hurry."
As the conversation went on, her tone had softened.
Despite his constant habit of being late, Gwen could never stay angry with him for very long.
She knew him too well...
And cared about him far too much to hold it against him for long.
Peter felt it immediately.
He ended the call with a much more peaceful smile than he'd had at the beginning before slipping his phone back into his pocket.
His gaze then turned toward the vast expanse of Manhattan stretching as far as the eye could see from the top of Oscorp Tower.
— "With Oscorp Tower's height, I should be there in just a few minutes if I use my wings!"
Without wasting another second, he took a few steps back to build up momentum.
Then he sprinted toward the edge of the rooftop as fast as he could before launching himself into a tremendous leap into the open air.
For several long seconds, his body plummeted between Manhattan's skyscrapers.
Then, with a perfectly controlled motion, his spider wings unfolded from both sides of his suit.
His fall instantly transformed into a smooth glide.
Carried by the air currents, Spider-Man soon soared above the city, gliding between the buildings with the grace of a bird flying across the New York skyline.
TO BE CONTINUED.