Kamala was so dead.

She'd just vicariously KO'd an Avenger.

The crazy-terrigen-mist-gun-guys had been chasing her, and she'd been leading them back towards the Avengers, because there were so many of them and Iron Man had told her to. The fight had barely started when Spider-man just... dropped . He'd gone ragdoll-limp in midair, and Kamala had stretched out an arm to catch him.

She was holding a completely unconscious (part-time) A-lister. And she wasn't quite sure what to do about that. There were still very hydra-ish robots running around, as well as the mist-gun/normal gun guys. On top of that, she had to worry about his injuries from the previous fight- he was doing rather a lot of bleeding.

Quinjet. The Avengers had a plane.

"Iron Man-" Kamala tried to whisper into her earpiece. "I'm going to take Spider-man to your weird Avengers plane and maybe come back."

"Okay," Iron Man said in her ear. "Update me if he wakes up before the fight is over."

Kamala took off on stretching legs, cradling Spider-man in her hands. The quinjet was a few blocks away, and quick to reach, even if she did maybe step on someone's roof at one point.

Spider-man was oddly hot in her hands. She knew he ran hot, slightly, because she'd looked it up and everyone who had direct contact with him said he was warm, but this was going beyond that. He was worryingly warm, damp with sweat and blood.

This was not a good first meeting.

When Kamala got back to the quinjet, she disembiggened back to normal size, and carried Spider-man in bridal style. She laid him out across a few seats and intently did not panic. She knew he wasn't inhuman, probably, or he'd be cocooning. He was breathing fast and shallow.

It probably wasn't safe to leave him. She didn't know what the mist would do to a spider-person. Nobody did.

God, this would be a lot easier if she could see his face. The mask hid his expression, but if she was keeping her identity a secret, he should have that right, too.

Just before the panic threshold for unconsciousness, Spider-man woke up. He pushed himself up on his elbows did a hissing inwards gasp, the prelude to a scream.

"Shhh!" Kamala hissed. "Don't attract attention."

Spider-man sat up clamped a hand over his mouth, which either meant he was listening or he was about to throw up.

"Ms. Marvel? What the hell happened?" He asked, and wow was that not the voice Kamala'd expected. She'd never heard him talk before, she realised. He sounded...young. And seriously freaked out.

"You reacted badly to the terrigen mist," She said. "You blacked out. And, um, you're probably rapidly mutating right now, so…"

"Oh," Spider-man said. "Is… is that bad? Like...Weird bad, compared to other people who got hit with the mist?"

He was speaking uncharacteristically slowly. Like the situation made no sense. Which it didn't, so go him.

Mist swirled past the windows.

"Uh, maybe?" Kamala said. "Does it feel bad? I got superpowers when I got hit, but you already have those. I don't know what it'll do."

"I feel basically fine," Spider-man said. " Last time I did a lot of rapid mutation, It really messed me up. I think this is different."

"We should probably wait it out, though. In case anything happens." Kamala glanced around the interior of the quinjet. "Is there anything I could, uh-"

She was cut off. Spider-man pressed a finger to what had to have been an earpeice. In the silence of the quinjet, she could just make out the buzz of a voice.

"I'm awake, yeah, but-" Spider-man was cut off by the tinny buzz again. "No, no, bench me if you have to, but Ms. Marvel- I don't need a babysitter. I'm literally fine ."

Kamala, personally, would argue that he was very much not fine.

"But Mister Stark -" he was almost pleading, now.

"Ms. Marvel, you're excused from this particular fight." Tony clicked on in Kamala's ear, making her jump. "You're in charge of Spider-man. Just keep him in one place and make sure he doesn't luck!"

There was a click.

"I'm in charge?" Kamala asked the world at large. "Why am I in charge?"

"The Avengers are used to fighting without you," Spider-man said. "So they can afford to ditch you with me. Want to go back anyway?"

"You'll probably react to the mist again." Kamala pointed out.

"But I might not ." Spider-man protested. "It's just as likely that I'll be fine. I barely got to do anything."

"Spider-man, no ," Kamala said, trying to sound authoritative. "We don't know what could happen from here. You're physiologically unique. The mist could do anything to you."

"Spider-man yes , because people could die ." Spider-man hauled himself unsteadily back to his feet. He was only a few inches taller than Kamala, which was very weird. "I'm not going to stop just because of… some weird fog. There are particulate masks in one of the cabinets."

He looked around for the right place, and pressed a hidden button on the quinjet wall, and a panel popped open.

"You're a people!" Kamala blurted. " You could die!"

"Eloquent." Spider-man carefully rolled the bottom half of his mask up, velcroed the particulate mask with trembling hands, and pulled his mask back down. "There. Safe. Wanna go kick ass with me?"

"You are not going to kick any more ass today," Kamala said. "Tony Stark has banned you from ass-kicking. And you might be actually dying, or something?"
It finally hit that this was actual Spider-Man. Kamala was trying to command actual Spider-man. It made sense that he wouldn't be listening. He'd been around for at least a year longer than she had.

"I don't have time to worry about every time I might die." Spider-man said. Kamala reached out, hesitated. She wasn't sure about physical contact, as stupid as it sounded. "I do a lot of might die -ing. It's in the job description."

He moved to open the door and Kamala-

Panicked. She panicked and embiggened and pinned actual Spider-man under her hand. Her palm arced over him, two fingers pinning his shoulders, she gritted her teeth. This was Iron Man's opinion vs Spider-Man's and-

" Rude ." Spider-man shifted under her palm, then kicked up with both feet. Kamala felt the jolt in her bones.

She'd seen him bench-press a family sedan. She was pretty lucky he hadn't broken anything.

Spider-man opened the doors via another hidden panel. They'd missed most of the fun; the Avengers had half of an army in handcuffs by now.

Standing just outside in all his red, gold, and glowing glory, was Iron Man.

He crossed his alloy-clad arms.

"And what were you trying to do, Spidey?" He said, in a distinctly disappointed-dadish voice.

Iron Man had a dad voice .

Iron Man .

was going to love this.

"Nothing?" Spider-man said, like he wasn't clearly wearing a mask under his mask and swaying where he stood.

"Look." Tony Stark's faceplate slid back into his helmet in one smooth movement. His expression was grave. "Spider-man. Please take this seriously."

"I was -" Spider-man began.

"I have no idea what's happening to you," Tony said. "But it could kill you."

Kamala realised she was the resident expert on terrigen mist. She was standing with Spider-man and Iron Man and new something more than they did.

She raised her hand.

"Well, it probably won't," She said. "I mean, usually it doesn't make people die? But accounting for Spider-man's, uh, unique physiology, we should maybe wait a couple days to see what happens."

"It's already doing… something. Something that's screwing with Spider-man's metabolism and sinking glucose like nothing on earth," Iron Man, good god, actual Iron Man , said. "I'm just not sure what."