Swingin' Thru Queens

Untitled Part 1

Turning her wrists awkwardly to the side, a thin string of gold shot away from her hand to wrap around the criminal's ankle. The large man hit the ground hard. Another jerk to the golden light had him skidding on the ground to stop at her feet. A snarl ripped through her chest. With a swift kick to his skull, the man was out like a light and the fight was finally over. She snapped her fingers, dismissing the golden light. Adrenalin seemed to rush out of her system faster than it had arrived, leaving her breathing heavy and aching all over. The sound of feet hitting the ground in front of her had her hands up again in an instant, ready to call on the mystic arts again to defend herself.

"Whoa, whoa, don't attack! I'm cool, I'm a friend, I'm Spider-man," the figure said. He wore a mostly red suit that had accents of blue in various areas. His voice was lighter than she expected it to be, but it was still nice, none-the-less. "What's your name? Are you okay?"

It was then that she realized her arm had gone back to cradling her ribs protectively. "Uh, y-yeah, I think, I –" A hacking cough erupted from within, a surprisingly large amount of blood following with a spew. Her hand went too late to cover her mouth. With his face hidden behind the mask, she had no way of knowing how disgusted he was. "I'm so sorry, I didn't –" Another cough cut her off, crumpling her to her knees on the hard pavement.

"So, I'm going to go ahead and help you up now," Spider-man said. His tone of voice suggested he was unsure of coming near her, but he was taking determined steps in her direction. "What happened here, anyways?"

Her sentence was broken by sharp gasps of pain as a sharp gouging feeling grew in her side. "He was following me and tried to jump me in the alleyway. I live in Greenwich Village, I was just going home." She allowed the man in the suit to pull her toward him, looping her free arm around his shoulder. "Can you get me to the hospital? It's just north of Hell's Kitchen, Metro-General."

"Yeah, sure, but are you – uh, are you okay with me, like, webbing us there? It's a little quicker than waiting for a cab."

He was crouched beside her kneeling form, her arm over his shoulder, waiting for her consent to web-sling her to a hospital. His consideration made her smile – any other superhero would have already snatched her up and dragged her away with far too much attitude. She opened her mouth to answer in the affirmative when another cough burst out with no warning. Blood spewed from around her fingers, spraying the side of his mask and part of his neck.

"I think we should hurry, actually, so you can just nod if you're okay with this," he offered. There was an urgency in his voice that she couldn't really see the need for. Though, looking back, she would realize it was dissociation in response to shock and pain. She nodded, letting him guide her blood smeared hand and wrist around his neck to where she was holding him around the shoulders. "Hold on tight, okay?" He pulled her to stand, pulling her slightly shorter body into his chest.

Then they were flying through Queens. Her eyes clenched themselves shut at the onset of vertigo. He was careful of her, making a serious effort to keep her from being jostled around or slipping down his chest. What felt like minutes to her seemed to take hours to him. Finally, he swung to a stop just outside of Metro-General's emergency department. Holding onto her shoulders, he gently pried her death-grip away from him. There was no indication that she was going to vomit blood until it was soaking both of them, red pooling in a puddle on the ground. Ignoring the mess, he swooped her up into his arms to rush through the automatic doors. They were swarmed relatively quickly by a doctor that seemed to know her and a few nurses that began taking her vitals and wheeling her away.

"Wait, wait!" she croaked, turning on the gurney to face him. "I know that I just spit blood all over you, and this is probably the wrong time, but I kind of like you."

He laughed for a second, pausing to give himself a cursory glance over to see the blood drying on his suit, none of which was his own. "What's your name?" he asked.

"Lily," the doctor answered for her. She signaled for the nurses to keep going.

The gurney began to move away from him again, and the girl craned around ignoring the doctor's demands for her to stay put. "I'm gonna come back to Queens – you better be there!"

"I kinda live there, so I'm sure I will be," he yelled back, smiling beneath the mask. He shook his head and looked down at himself after she disappeared. "These stains are never going to come out."

A man stepped up next to him, red cape billowing around his ankles. "Try hydrogen peroxide," he offered. He patted the shorter man on the shoulder for a moment before following the crowd that had disappeared with the gurney.