Peter Parker woke up slowly. There was no sound except for a faint buzzing from a device beside him, which was causing him a slight headache.
He opened his eyes and saw a white light above him.
No windows, no noise.
A medical room. The Watchtower.
He tried to get up, but his first attempt failed.
His right arm didn't move as it should. His body felt heavy, exhausted, as if every muscle had been drained.
He took a slow breath and felt a prickling in his chest. The pain wasn't new.
It was still there... but lighter.
He blinked twice. His mind struggled to catch up with what had happened since the beginning... well, not exactly the beginning.
They had been in another world, shortly after jumping across the multiverse to enjoy some peace - but it hadn't lasted a week before he and his fellow heroes moved to another world to fight versions of themselves.
The Lords of Justice.
Everything there was unnatural. Distorted.
And Peter... fought himself... in a way.
The fight wasn't epic, more of a desperate escape attempt, and though it wasn't the first time he had to do something like that, a dark version of himself... He hated it every time.
A twisted version of him who didn't smile. Showed no mercy. His opposite.
Lord Spider-Man.
He recalled the battles and the moment when Lord Spider-Man's symbiote claws pierced his side.
The symbiote - or poison - in fact, Peter hadn't expected that once he entered this universe and was approved to stay in it, it would match him in every connected universe linked to the main one.
But Peter remembered their return and the end of the fight, closing the portal between them - and after that, nothing.
"The last thing I remember... the portal, the light. Then everything ended."
He slowly lifted his head and saw a small screen above the bed displaying his status:
"Condition: Stable
Symbiote poisoning - Source of infection: L.S.
Estimated recovery time: 7 days
Actual response: 2 days"
He was not surprised.
The symbiote by nature has poisonous properties since it's a parasite that kills the host, and he had faced some symbiotes with this ability before, though he had never noticed this specific poison.
This definitely explained why he felt his body fighting itself from the moment he regained consciousness.
But suddenly, Peter remembered something - something buried beneath everything he had been through... but never disappeared.
His memories from there... from Earth-616.
That place where there was no white light, no soft beds, no machines monitoring his condition.
That place where he always felt like the odd one out.
He remembered how he bled after every fight, and no one came close.
How he treated himself in cramped rooms, or on the rooftop of an abandoned building, tying bandages with his teeth and stitching wounds with fishing line or glue.
All because no one cared.
He didn't ask for special treatment.
He didn't want a private room, or even first-class care.
He just... wanted to be treated like everyone else.
He remembered when he fell after blocking an explosion beside Iron Man and Captain America - his whole body trembling from the shock.
But no one stopped.
He heard someone say, "He's Spidey; he'll get through it."
As if everything about him was designed to be ignored.
Even when he helped the X-Men, he received the same looks.
No one saw him as one of them.
Always the visitor, always passing through, no matter what he gave or did.
He always asked himself: Why?
He didn't know.
Was J. Jonah Jameson a sufficient cause?
Could a newspaper - no matter how vicious - create such a gulf between him and everyone he fought alongside?
Before the Superior Spider-Man, before his identity was stolen, before all that... that look existed.
A look that made him a shadow. A tool. A joke. Someone whose efforts meant nothing.
And now?
Here he was, lying in a medical room. Surrounded by advanced devices.
His poisoning had been dealt with immediately.
He had been monitored seriously for days.
He was saved.
He read the screen again:
"Estimated recovery time: 7 days
Actual response: 2 days"
He exhaled slowly, as if releasing all the old burdens in his chest.
Maybe it wasn't about being loved or hated...
Maybe all he really needed was to be somewhere he was treated like a human being.
He slowly raised his right hand, running his trembling fingers over his chest where the symbiote claws had pierced him -
a wound that might leave a scar, but it would heal.
Unlike the old wounds... that had no place to heal.
Suddenly, a soft sound came from the door.
The door opened, and quiet footsteps entered.
He raised his head slightly. Standing there was the stunning Amazonian beauty - Diana.
She walked slowly, a gentle smile on her face, wearing her light gray suit, no weapons or armor.
She stood at the threshold and looked at Peter with eyes full of calm and care - something rare in the few good days of his past life.
Diana spoke softly, worried that Peter might not have regained all his strength yet, though the concern was clear in her voice:
"Finally, you've opened your eyes."
Peter slowly lifted his head and replied in a soft but tired voice,
"How long was I unconscious?"
Diana smiled lightly and sat on the chair beside the bed, calm returning to her as she saw Peter respond:
"Two days. Your body fought the poison hard. If we had delayed, you wouldn't be here now."
Peter sighed and turned his eyes to his arm tied to the machines:
"I'm not used to anyone caring about me like this."
She looked at him kindly and said softly, a hint of sadness:
"I know you haven't told me everything, even though we've been friends for a long time, and I respect that, Peter. But what I'm sure of is that you were never surrounded by the right people."
"And believe me, Peter, I care. Nubia cares. All the members of the League care. If only you had seen how Batman and Flash worked frantically on the antidote that kills the symbiote poison inside you."
Diana's words made Peter smile - a genuine, happy smile - but fatigue was starting to take over his consciousness.
Before closing his eyes, he placed his hand on Diana's and whispered softly:
"Thank you, Diana... thank you all."
.
_____
END OF CHAPTER