𝐒𝐄𝐋𝐅 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐑𝐎𝐋

bonus 3 - personal nurse

warnings: not edited and sorry lmao

______________

Ryder doesn't mind the snow.

Sure, she's used to the warmth of the south for a few months, and while that's been a nice fog covering the reality of New York winters, it's been tough adjusting back to the frosty chill of December. From walking around campus in a short sleeve and being the one northerner who doesn't complain about 60 degree weather, she sure feels back to normal while cradled in a knit sweater that's not hers with her hands supporting an almost empty hot chocolate mug. 

Her life is almost so normal that she almost forgets her boyfriend is a vigilant fighting crime day and night.

It's been a slow night for her. Peter typically stays out later during the week to make up for him missing weekends to spend time with Ryder, and while that thought is quite endearing and flattering, the girl worries he isn't getting all the rest he needs to properly function. Just the other day he woke up at 7 am to rush out of the house to get to Midtown High School with his backpack and lunch. 

He graduated high school 6 months ago.

Point being, she's just worried about him, naturally. 

Some nights are better than others. He'll pop in her window with a few bruises littered across his pure white marbled chest or the occasional cut on the cheek from a swift punch. These injuries typically heal faster than others, because by the next morning they're nearly gone. But some are worse, including the open cuts from genetically modified creatures created in secret radioactive labs, or the one time he swung to her house using one hand because his wrist was completely sprained. Ryder is no nurse -- she does what she can but at the end of the day, Peter sometimes needs professional medical help despite how many times he protests against it. 

His wrist still clicks to this day.

Ryder hates to see him like that, and the fact that he always comes to her makes her internally debate whether it's the best or worst thing he can do. She doesn't show it, but Peter, with all do respect, stresses her the fuck out when it comes to his sporadic injuries. 

And of course, tonight while she's cozied up in bed watching Avatar: The Last Airbender, the universe decides to have a personal vendetta out to make her life miserable, because a few faint knocks on the window signal her that it's going to be a long night. It takes a couple tries for her to notice, but when she does it's a sight for sore eyes, definitely. 

Ryder peers up from her computer to see a very disheveled Peter Parker sitting outside of her window, favoring his left side with a beaten face and a crooked smile that looks nothing but grim. His brown curls dampen against his sweaty forehead, despite the gentle snowflakes descending outside, and his breathing becomes increasingly more labored.

She's out of bed in less than a second, putting down the mug and beelining towards the window, nearly catching his limp body as he collapses into her arms, managing a sheepish smile to cloud the pain. Ryder already knows she's not going to be sleeping peacefully tonight.

"Peter- What- Who...?" 

Peter collapses onto her desk chair, leaning back as much as the little black brace would allow with a grimace, debating if he should pass out immediately. "You should've seen the other guy."

Ryder knows the routine: whenever Peter shows up like this, no matter how big the injury, she snags the first aid kit in her bathroom and a rag so he can bite down on it if it's detrimental, as he simultaneously strips of his suit and slips on an extra pair of sweatpants he keeps here so she can mend to the suit after he's dealt with. Besides, in this case, she needs full access to his abdomen and chest, because it appears that that's where the main injury is.