Spider-Man and The Esper

100. Helping Hand

Spider-man stumbled slightly as he walked away from the scene. He'd just stopped a would-be-rapist in what had been the longest string of trouble happening he'd encountered in a while within City-J – all throughout the night and into the next day. His head was pounding, and he felt more and more dizzy with each passing moment that went by. But he'd carried on, carried on because with each second he didn't give up, another life could be saved, another crime prevented, and another child home safe to their family.

A horrific cough racked through his aching throat and he had to lean against a wall for support, resting his burning forehead against the cool brick – he was sure he had a fever. And it didn't help that a guy had managed to get the better of him earlier, due to his growing weakness, and had wrapped a strong, meaty hand around his slender neck.

Suddenly, a scream tore through the air from a few alleys over, and Spider-man's head whipped up, slightly unfocused, in its direction. Without stopping to consider his condition, he began to stride over - a little unsteadily. He quickly broke into a jog, then a run, before he was tearing across the road and down the sidewalk. Though, because of Spider-man's feverish, disorientated state, he failed to notice the many pairs of highly concerned eyes currently following his every move, boring into his skinny red and blue back. Those eyes happened to have been doing so more and more - increasing as time went by - and had laid witness to his little moment of weakness. The fact that he was on foot, a very unusual sight for Spider-Man, also didn't bear well with their growing concern.

"Hey!" Spider-man yelled, slightly tired, but angry - all his quips having left him in his mind-numbing state of exhaustion - and barrelled into a man who was currently beating up another man for his cash, sending him sailing to the ground. He went over and picked up the wallet that had been dropped in the process (struggling not to keel over) and handed it back to the twenty-odd-year-old man with scruffy brown hair, who was taking deep breaths from his place near the opening of the alleyway.

"Here's your wal-let," he found himself slurring, as he clumsily dumped the small leather item against the man's chest and into his hands, before leaning over on his knees, oddly winded. He stayed there for far too long, blinking his eyes behind the lenses in an attempt to clear his blurry vision and ease his pounding headache, but he hadn't thought through his actions properly.

Suddenly, there was a distressed yell, followed by another shout of what sounded like, "look out!" His spider-sense flared, causing him to scream out and clutch his hands to his head as it wreaked havoc with his headache, before a fist suddenly made contact with the back of his skull.

He hit the ground reeling. Two hands clamped down on his shoulders, and yanked him unsteadily to his feet. He thought he heard someone say, "how dare you, ya little punk!" before another fist was heading towards his jaw. Spider-man tried to shift back, pulling his arms up in front of himself defensively as he slammed against the wall, too weak and disoriented to defend himself. But it never made contact.

Another hand intervened, slamming his attacker's hard moments before his fist could reach him, grabbing the criminal and dragging him away. Then there were two people, three, as they seemed to pile in from everywhere, landing on the guy until he could no longer get up. Trapped.

Spider-man tried to breathe, but the edges of his vision were going dark and he swayed. He turned towards the wall and slapped his hands against it, before crawling hastily, but slowly, out of the alley.

"Hey, hey, hey. Spider-man!" he heard a male voice yell, before hands were reaching out to him. He immediately flinched, squeezing back against the contact with the brick wall behind him, pulling his hands up defensively as if being further attacked.

"No! No, it's alright. It's alright, Spider-man. You're not being hurt anymore, you're not in danger. You're fine. See?" the man, who Spider-man couldn't currently make out the face of said, holding his hands up non-threateningly. He then looked over his shoulder at the other New Yorkers and yelled, "Hey...hey! I'm gonna need some help over here!" before focusing back on the confused hero.