Doomed

Chapter Two

Steve stood with the doctor near the observation area with the doctor as the nurses left the room, giving Spider-Man and Carol some privacy. "I don't understand, Captain," the doctor said, turning to Steve. "My team and I are doctors, medical professionals. Sure, I'm no Reed Richards, but," he hitched a thumb into the room, "Why would she want to talk to him instead of us?"

A small smile crossed Steve's face. "No offense intended, doctor," he said, "But the man beneath that mask is one of the smartest people alive." Steve leaned forward, resting his hands on the windowsill. "If anyone can figure out what's wrong with her, he can."

Spider-Man sat next to Carol's bed, listening to her ragged breathing. It was difficult, to say the least, to see his friend like this. He'd always known Carol as a strong woman, one who go toe-to-toe with the Hulk and come out the other side un-smashed. But it wasn't just physical strength; she was a rock of a woman, considering all she'd been through. He knew a bit of her history: powers and memories stolen, lovers killed. It reminded him of his own.

He grabbed her hand, and she opened her eyes. "Hey, you," he said.

She turned her head to him, and the dark circles under her eyes unnerved him. He wondered if they'd been there before, just hidden by her mask. "Hey, Pete," she said, a small smile crossing her lips. Her voice was raspy, and the oxygen mask made her difficult to understand. "Wish I could…" she paused to take a breath, "See your face… those big white eyes… kinda freaky."

Peter smiled and pulled his mask up to rest on the bridge of his nose. "Blast," he said, "You've foiled my master plan to creep out beautiful young women."

"Beautiful?" she said, laugh-coughing. She pulled off the oxygen mask so she could be better understood. "Flatterer."

He squeezed her hand. "It's only flattery if it isn't true," he said. He was glad, then, that she couldn't see his eyes. He took a deep breath. "What's going on with you, Carol?" he asked. "Why did you want to talk to me?

Carol's face grew somber, and she turned away from him for a moment. When she turned back, tears were welling in her eyes. "I, uh…" she said, her voice cracking, "I think I'm dying, Pete."

His hand grew sweaty inside the glove. He wanted to take off his mask, he wanted her to look in his eyes and see how afraid he was for her then. But he saw the doctor still standing by the observation window. "Y'know, that might be something the doctor needs to hear about. Considering that's what he does for a living and everything."

She smiled, and the room shone a little bit brighter. It reminded him of Gwen, in a way, how one side of her mouth turned upward just a bit more than the other one. Her eyes, though, they'd always held a fire, a passion, like Mary Jane's; when he looked into them, he saw it dimmed, but not gone—she was angry about what was happening to her. "I'm pretty sure that whatever's going on with me is something a regular doctor wouldn't understand," she said. "I'm half-Kree. It's not really a subject they cover in med school."

Peter sighed. "Then you need to wait for Reed. Or Tony. Or we can call Doc Strange, maybe he can—"

"Stop," Carol said, shaking her head at him. She coughed, and was forced to bring the oxygen mask back up to take a few breaths. "You always sell yourself short," she continued, pulling the mask back down. "You're just as smart as any of those guys, and I don't…" she paused, and left Peter to wonder. He was sure that her disease was just getting to her, causing her some pain, with the way her face looked like she was hurting. "Trust them," she said. "Not like I trust you."

Carol reached her other arm across herself and grabbed Peter's other hand. The action rolled her body, and drew her closer to him. Tears resting there made her eyes look like ocean water, and he could smell the honeysuckle in her perfume. "I… I, uh…" he stammered, finding himself leaning in rather than backing away.