Spider-Man and The Esper

57. Promise

He looked back up to his parents innocently, little face showing clearly the night's despair, eyes dark with remnants of tears trailing down his face.

"Mummy? Daddy?" he asked confused, waiting for them to do something. Getting the message, his father quickly zipped into the room, running to the boy and lifting him up in his arms, whispering that it was okay, that it was alright, while his mother moved over and gently checked the hero's pulse - letting out a long breath when she found one, and nodding to her husband, who curled his hand around his boy's head soothingly.

"There was a fight outside. Spider-Blizzard was hurt. I couldn't leave her," their boy revealed, crying into his Dad's chest. "Am I in trouble?" His voice wobbled.

"No! No, you're most certainly not in trouble little man! Not at all! It's alright, you did a good thing, ok? You did a good thing helping the hero. I'm sure she'll be very thankful for it later," his father quickly cut in with before his boy could go any further, while looking intently over at his wife, who was perched by the fallen hero - the couple sharing a silent, worried facial conversation with each other. She was gently touching Spider-Blizzard's cheek, trying to rouse a response from her. She continued to sleep.

Shifting Oliver in his grip, the father caught a glimpse of the boy's hands, and without thinking, quickly grabbed one of them. It was covered in a thin layer of drying blood.

Alarmed, he looked back up again with strong concern evident in his eyes, and lifted his son's hand so the mother could see.

Her mouth dropped open at the sight, before she quickly turned back to the hero, noting her son's favourite blanket wrapped around him - a Spider-Blizzard blanket to be precise. Shaking the thought from her mind to mull over later, she gently found the edges, before pulling it back. She gasped in horror, and she could hear the sound of dread that came from her husband at the sheer amount of blood. Oliver whimpered too at the sight, curling further into his father.

"Oh God..." the woman barely muttered. It was dried, but it was obvious the hero had lost a lot.

Leaning forward, she lifted up the suit to reveal her stomach, searching for a better view of the damage. The wound was a long cut along the hero's abdomen, not severely deep, but enough so to have caused a lot of bleeding. Now, it was healing up, the edges closing and the original severity of the damage no longer visible, but it didn't stop the shock of the sight from getting to them.

"I'll go get a cloth. Come on, Ollie," the father said quietly, before getting up, and leading the boy out of the room.

Ten minutes later, and the last string of water was squeezed out, before the used piece of cloth was dumped on the edge of a bowl of water.

"I think that's it," the woman said, as they all looked over their handywork. Spider-Blizzard's belly was now all nice and clean, with a fresh, thickly wrapped bandage wrapped carefully around her stomach. Oliver was looking on curiously from his spot on the floor in the corner, playing with some toys.

"I better take this out to the laundry," the father then inputted, as he picked up the bundled blanket, and walked out of the room. The mother then moved over to pick up the milk and plate still left on the floor, and headed out to the kitchen, also intending to clean herself up.

Watching them leave, Oliver looked back at the figure still lying on his bedroom floor, before abandoning his toys, and scooting over to the hero. He just sat there, gazing at Spider-Blizzard with a look of quiet wonder and concern, before leaning forward and resting his head against her black and blue chest. He could hear Spider-Blizzard's beating heart in this position, and it was reassuring to the young boy.

After a minute, he heard voices beginning to rise outside his room. He looked towards their direction curiously, before getting up off of Spider-Blizzard, and running out to see what the commotion was, leaving the new web-slinger all alone.