Doomed

Chapter Three

The cup of coffee sitting on his workbench had gone from steaming to stale, but taste didn't really matter that much to Peter. He'd been locked in his lab at Horizon for three days, and in that time he could count on one hand the number of hours he'd slept. Strewn about his office were numerous papers from several different files: the medical records and test results he'd received from the ass-hat doctor (when Carol found out what he'd said, she'd nearly thrown him through the observation window, but Peter didn't know about that), as well as several of Carol's files from S.H.I.E.L.D., which he'd received from Steve.

He'd checked in every day, just as Steve requested, and every day Peter had told him the exact same thing: "I still haven't figured it out."

He called to check on Carol every day, too, and while on the first two days he'd spoken to Carol herself, today one of his fellow Avengers answered the phone. "What's up, Webs?"

"Logan?" Peter asked, pulling his cell phone away from his ear to check which number he'd dialed. "What are you doing there?"

Peter could hear Logan eating chips on the other end of the line. "Came down to check up on Carol," he said, stuffing a handful of chips in his mouth. "Me and her go back a ways, y'know?"

Thanks to the files laying all over his lab, Peter did. Back during her time with the C.I.A., before she received her powers, Carol had done some covert operations with Logan. The two had become friends through the experience, and that bond continued over their tenure as Avengers. "Any new developments?" Peter asked.

"Nah, not really. She's sleeping more today than she was yesterday, but that's about it," Logan said. Peter hummed to himself and wrote it down. He didn't like that she was sleeping more than usual. It meant her body was growing too tired from fighting her illness to stay conscious for very long. "Thor was down here earlier," Logan continued, crunching more chips into the receiver. "Offered to shoot her up with lightning, see if the energy boost might help her get past this thing, but Carol told him her absorbing powers are on the fritz. So basically she could either suck up the energy or fry." Logan punctuated the statement with a loud slurp and an even louder belch.

"Logan," Peter said, "Are you drinking in the hospital room?"

"Heh, yeah," Logan said before catching himself. "I mean, uh, no, Webs, no. It's just water."

Peter had to smile. "That's good," he said, "because I'm sure you know that Carol is a recovering alcoholic, and it would be really bad form to be drinking right next to her."

His sarcasm was not lost on Logan. "Don't you worry, bub," he said. "You know me. I'd never do anything that inconsiderate."

In the background, Peter heard the clinking of glass bottles, as well as Carol screaming "Han shot first!" He laughed for the first time since getting to his lab, and it felt good. He'd been too somber, too focused on how hopeless he felt in this situation.

"Sorry, Webs," Logan said, "Carol wanted to have a 'Star Wars' marathon, but we only had the Special Editions." Peter heard another grumble of dissent as Jabba the Hutt appeared next to the Millennium Falcon.

"Is that Peter?" he heard, and his heart lodged itself somewhere near his throat. "Tell him he should come by later, I'm finally gonna get around to watching 'Ghostbusters!'"

"Did you catch that, Webs?" Logan asked.

Peter ran a sweaty hand through his hair. He didn't know why he was trying to make himself look better while he was on the phone. "I did, yeah," he said, scratching at the three-day-old stubble growing under his chin. His eyes scanned the machine that was busy compiling the DNA analysis. It would be finished in a few hours. "Tell her," he said, sighing, "Tell her I'm sorry, but I'm busy working."