Night 61: Mission #5 [Peter Parker and Jessica Drew]

[tightsofmight]

[From here.]

The first thing he noticed was the sudden explosion of clothes upon his person. And that was not literal in any way - it was just that one moment he was in his traditional smiley face shirt and sweats, and the next he was bundled up to the brim. Gloves, boots, snow pants, coat, et all. A duffel bag, mostly empty, strapped to his back. He was even wearing night vision goggles, which turned everything in sight a deep shades of green.

Briefly he wondered if this was how Norman Osborn saw the world.

The next he noticed was the cutting sensation of cold. Even through the clothes, which he was sure were the very best in toasty buns technology, the howling wind clipped him and he could imagine, if not feel, the icicles already forming on the edges of his coat. He had literally never known such a cold in his life.

Thirdly was that both his hands were occupied. In one, there was what felt like an ancient walkie talkie. Raising it into view revealed its true form as a not quite so ancient GPS. The file had said they'd need it. Due to circumstances or the limits on blink of an eye teleporty technology (which Peter found hard to buy considering they had just gone from what might be New Jersey to Ant-fricking-arctica), they couldn't just zap the pair of them into the testing facility. They had to tromp their way over through the dark of night and hope not to die of hypothermia before they reached monsterville.

In the other hand, was Jessica's. He turned to face his clone, getting the distinct impression that he'd been sent along on a mission with Kenny from South Park instead. He doubted he looked much different.

"Aren't we beautiful." How did they fit your hair in that hood would have been his next question if he wasn't certain she'd crack his goggles for it. He held the GPS between them, keeping all movements close in light of the cold. "I guess that bloopy light is us, and that bloopy light," he tapped another dot, scarcely half an inch away, with a finger gone fat with the glove, "Is where the facility is. And once we're there we just...stomp on the monsters and collect samples?" He wrinkled his nose, but he doubted she could see. Everything had come down to eyes and brows with the goggles and the coats, otherwise he might not have a nose to wrinkle in the first place. "Is it just me, or does this seem kind of pointless? They already have plenty of gross things kicking around the hospital."

Comments

[webline]

She barely noticed her surroundings. The pain was so severe, so overwhelming that she couldn't breathe, didn't feel or see the fire starting around her, barely noticed Peter's cries out for her. She was doubled over, bloody palms pressed over one another, a puddle of web spilling from her insides and this couldn't be happening.

Red swirled with the white pooling before her, illuminated with orange and yellow from around her. Her face was pale, sweating, she was suffocating from her own pain, from the smoke, from --

And then Peter was screaming and her spider-sense was blaring and despite everything, her head snapped upwards and back and she barely caught Peter getting a piece of his leg ripped out and him webbing the creatures back and she was shrieking, "Peter! Peter!"

And reality came back to her.

She had to fight through the pain. She had to fight through losing her fingers. Tears were rolling down her cheeks but she staggered forward, pushing herself to her feet as the fire furled around them. (She couldn't breathe. Was she dying? Was this it?) Jessica spotted his figure pressed against the wall, calling for her and she forced herself past the flames, past the burning in her hands and her face and everything.

"I'm not -- I'm not leaving you. I won't."

The clone stumbled, hands pressing against her chest, the webbing sticking to the fabric of her clothes, and she was hacking, choking on the smoke before pressing her wrist against his shoulder forcefully. "Peter, climb -- climb onto my back. I'm going -- I'm going to get you out of here."

Oh god, they were going to die. This was it. They were going to burn to death.

[tightsofmight]

There was Jess. Jesus.

Peter stumbled forward as well as he could, gripping her by the shoulders as she pressed her wrist to his. Her wrist, and there was a latent string of reddened web goop leading from her coat to his, connected by the stumps. The acidic smell hit his nose like a freight train, but it was soon buried under a heady wave of smoke. He coughed violently, turning his face from hers.

"No no no - not with those things. You'll die." He squeezed. Maybe too hard, but he needed to stay steady and get his arm around her shoulders at the same time. "H-Hobble me out-" The instructions died under a new fit of coughs. A beam crumbled from overhead, some three feet away from them. The sparks leaped to and fro.

"Come on! Come - c-c'mooon."

[webline]

He squeezed and it hurt, but she grit her teeth and got through it. She needed to. They were losing, they were failing, and she couldn't. She had to make sure he was safe. She could be the one who died, but as long as he was okay, that'd be fine. He was the original, after all, the one that was supposed to be around. She shouldn't have even lived this long.

But they had to move.

Jessica didn't bother arguing with him. She looped her arm around his body, lifting him up and holding him close. If anything, the web emerging from her hands helped hold him against her, dragging from her stumps to his jacket. Her spider sense was going nuts, as the roof continued to fall around them but she hurried, trying to lead him as quickly as possible to the door, flames curling around them.

It felt like forever, but finally they made it out the door and Jessica almost fell to her knees, feet crunching deep in the quickly melting snow. She pulled Peter as far as she could from the building, collapsing after a moment. However, there was no time for rest as she immediately made for his leg, web dripping from her hands.

"Let me -- let me try -- " It was a struggle, but she managed to string some out, trying to cover the huge gash as best as she could. Every movement caused her to grit her teeth in pain though. Her spinnerets were ruined.

[tightsofmight]

"No, don't!" Peter urged with a hiss. He snatched her by the wrists and finally gave up on not crying. He couldn't bear to see her like this. Charred, leaking, and struggling to use what were now no more than ragged nubs to cover his wounds. She got a good amount there, but it was streaked with thinned blood. The webbing looked stringy, too. And the look on her face. He couldn't do this.

"They gave me mine. Just. Please. Let me. Your hands will freeze off," he said with a puff of steam. Things were already feeling frozen where his pant leg had been ripped open. Finishing the job, Peter shot another couple of layers around the wound, sealing all the gaps in the suit and cementing Jessica's webbing into place. Thank god they had compensated for the shooters with his sleeves. It felt like there was an attachment, an extra tube. He's have to look if he got the chance.

But the important matter was Jess. Peter gave her a weak smile, his cheeks bunching over the scarf to give away the expression. "I'll do yours. Okay? We're going to be okay."
And as gently as he could, he returned the favour. He didn't stop until he was sure the cannisters were half empty; between the wall of webbing inside the cabin and the bandaging he was doing now, the military's paltry offering for the night was not lasting worth a damn. Jessica's hands now looked like swollen cotton swabs, encased in thick white strands. He hoped it would be even remotely warm enough to last them through this.

"We have to keep moving, Jess. We have to go back. We'll be done for if we stay." He swallowed thickly. His leg. Shit, he wasn't sure he had another mile in him. Jess could leave. She didn't have her hands, but she could run. If something followed them, he was making sure she got out safe.

He'd already died once. Technically. Even if it was a big fat hallucination stunt on Landel's part, he had still felt that last helpless moment and the quiet that came after. And besides, knowing about the comic book thing kind of took the punch out of death in the first place. He could handle this. He could.

Shivering madly, Peter stared at his clone. His face. But pretty, girlish. He could say that now. If she was his sister then it was fair to say she was pretty and he wanted her to be happy. Slowly, he lowered the scarf around his mouth, and moved hers down too before placing a dry, frigid kiss on her cheek.

"I love you Jess. I really do." God. Still crying, and now it was soaking the rims of his goggles. He could feel it freezing to his face. "So you have to promise me you're going to be all right."

[webline]

He couldn't keep himself from crying but Jessica was still biting back tears. Her face was bloody, charred, and a mess and she knew it, but that didn't matter to her as long as she didn't cry. She was always the strong one; the one that kept face when things were tough. She couldn't cry in front of him.

She didn't argue with him though when he stopped her from webbing his leg, nor when he started webbing her hands either. They pain was still searing but she could feel the cold slowly numbing it over and she just watched quietly as her hands became web mittens.

"The mission though, Peter- -" She found herself arguing, despite everything. People were depending on them. And if they... her gaze slowly met his and it was a lightbulb shattered when she realized what he could possibly thinking as she then stared at his leg. "No. No, no, no." She was still murmuring her refusals as he kissed her cheek, eyes watering now at this, instead of anything else. Not the pain, not the fire, but the realization that Peter was giving himself up.

"Stop it, Peter. Stop it." Tears were running down her face, glossing over her goggles and mixing with the ash. "We're going to be fine. I'm going to get you back Don't you dare say something like -- like that." Her voice was shaking, choking, because she knew exactly what he could be thinking and that made everything a hundred times worse. "Come on." Somehow, she had forgotten completely about everyone else between the span of two minutes, simply because it was about Peter now. And for her, it always would be.

Jessica moved, pulling him close to her and wrapping his arm over her shoulder to lift him up. "You're going to be fine." She found herself repeating this over and over like some sort of mantra.

[tightsofmight]

"Screw the mission. We're boned if we stay, Jess," he said. Not a single trace of irony or humour detected, either - it was as flat a truth as flat could be. Even running off into the snowstorm and waiting there until the army got fed up and sent them a lift was a better option. Even with hypothermia as a very real threat. It would be a better death than getting gutted by skinless zombie beasts.

Honestly, he was baffled that she even cared at this point. Maybe it was because Peter had been here longer, but he was beyond the idea of even completing the mission in the first place. Screw Landel's. Whatever consequences they might have back at the institute, they could face. And if the army really wanted them as recruits, they wouldn't let them die horribly out here. They'd have to bring both him and Jess back. Alive, if not in one piece. Surely Aguilar and his goons could see the sense in that.

And shit, now she was crying too. She'd caught on way too quick, and Peter felt awful for even considering staying behind, but it was true. He was the real gimp here.

But he couldn't let that keep her in this spot. If she wouldn't go without him, he'd hobble as far as he could. Otherwise this would all be useless. "Jess - Jess stop it." He swept her close, a brief and frantic hug, gone as quickly as it came. "Let's go. We just have to go. Now. Nothing has to happen as long as we just leave and put these stupid things-"

And the spider sense went wild. Peter jolted, looked frantically back at the burning building, and missed the thing that leaped out of the snow on the other side of him.

It caught him by the arm, talons first. Peter toppled with a yelp, the world spinning white and red with the storm and the glistening muscles of the creature on top of him. He sunk deep into the snow, disappearing several inches under the surface within half a second. Disoriented. Screaming. Trying to punch the damn thing off but the goggles got half knocked off and he couldn't see a fucking thing with the black rims in his eyes, but he could feel the teeth already. Peter screamed, loud and piercing as he felt muscle leave the bone for the second time tonight.

"JESS!!"