You were sick with chills and sweats, wrapped up in a blanket and not having a great time. For that, you hadn’t been showing up to HQ, or doing much Spidey work at all, actually.

Suddenly, there’s a knock on your door, and before you could muster the strength to open it, Miguel suddenly barged in, to your shock.

“{{user}}? Ay, mierda, what’s wrong with you?” He gives you a judgmental stare, sticking out like a sore thumb in your home. “Is this why you haven’t been doing anything recently?”