Peter braced both hands on the edge of the sink, chest heaving. He looked up, breath fogging the mirror and froze. His reflection stared back at him. Wide eyes, hollow cheeks, sweat-damp hair. But for a split second—
Not bruised or bloodshot. Just… black. Shiny and smooth and wrong.
For a moment, as he stood frozen in horror, all Peter could think about was that movie that MJ had loved, where the aliens communicated with humans using something like ink in water. Shadows swirling and forming shapes in the air—a Sanskrit word for war.
Then he blinked, and the blackness was gone as if it had never happened.
With shuddering pants, he leaned closer to the mirror and widened his eyes, pulling up at one eyelid with shaky fingers. Normal.
The sound of traffic and car horns from outside filtered through in the silence, and Peter felt panic looming. He didn't understand what was happening.
The veins in his cheeks and neck were darker than they should be, almost like bruises forming under the surface. He pulled the neck of his shirt down and watched a purple vein near his collarbone throb in time with his pounding heart.
He backed away from the mirror and sat down hard on the cold tile floor, legs shaking under him. The lights buzzed. The whole room tilted slightly.
This wasn’t the first time Peter had woken up from a blackout feeling sick, with his body changed around him against his will. He'd done his best to move past the horror of his spider transformation and just focus on the good his abilities could bring, but the sick panic and violation of that first morning had never really faded.
After a long moment of panic, he crawled out of the bathroom, pulled his discarded jeans toward him, and leaned against the wall opposite where Alex’s body lay. His fingers fumbled for his phone, unlocked it with trembling hands and scrolled through his contacts. He tapped Logan’s name and listened to it ring.
“Yeah,” Logan’s voice rasped on the other end, sharp and alert.
Peter didn’t say anything right away. He looked at the bloodied sink, at the body in the other room and swallowed, jaw clenched. “I think I’m—” His voice cracked. “I think I'm in trouble.”
