Chapter Text
Tony was making a grilled cheese sandwich when FRIDAY alerted him that Peter had just woken up.
With a quick glance at May passed out on the couch and “Nailed It” playing quietly on the TV, he made the executive decision to go up himself instead of waking her up. Tony grabbed Peter’s meds off the counter along with apple juice and a cup of Jell-O, turning off the stove before he left.
Tony knocked on the door lightly, and upon receiving no response, cracked it open.
“Rise and shine, kiddo. How are you feeling?”
“Wha’?” Peter lifted his head up and Tony had to stifle a laugh at his massive bed head.
“Ready for your meds?” Tony shook the small bottle in his hand. He walked over to the chair by Peter’s bed so he could see the kid better, placing the Jell-O and juice on the bedside table.
“Mmm,” Peter responded, making no effort to sit up further. Tony chuckled lightly.
“We can wait a bit, bud. Want me to put something on TV?” he asked, seeing that the screen was now black. Peter lazily bobbed his head. Tony pulled up Peter’s Netflix profile and went into his recently watched.
“The Last Airbender?” Tony prompted. Peter looked disinterested so Tony tried again.
“Breaking Bad?” Peter shook his head. Tony continued to scroll, flipping past the movies and looking for shorter episodes to keep Peter’s mind on the screen instead of the pain that would inevitably come soon.
“Kid, seriously. You’ve been watching SpongeBob recently?” Peter made an indignant noise that Tony interpreted as “if I were any less loopy at the moment, I would argue with you right now.”
“Wanna watch The Office? Or Lucifer?” Peter shook his head and this time Tony sighed. This damn kid was so much more agreeable when he was sober.
“More Brooklyn 99?” Peter shrugged noncommittally and Tony took that as a yes. As Jake and Charles appeared on the screen, Tony went to sit in the chair when Peter made a noise at the back of his throat.
“What’s wrong?”
“I can’ feel my lips,” Peter muttered, pressing a tentative hand to his face. Tony suppressed the urge to chuckle.
“Be grateful for that, kiddo. Dr. Cho’s got you on the good stuff.” Here, Peter really surprised Tony when his eyes began to fill with tears.
“Woah there, Pete. Does it hurt?”
“I miss my mou’,” Peter sniffled. Tony snorted, but when actual tears began running down his face Tony changed course and settled into the bed beside Peter. The kid immediately curled into his side and Tony started absently running his hands through his hair.
“Jeez, kid. You really go all out, huh?” The only sign Peter had heard him was the small noise of content that nearly melted his heart. Damn kid.
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“Miss’r Star’?” Peter mumbled half-way through the third episode. Tony was surprised, Peter’s breath had evened out long ago and Tony assumed him asleep.
“Yeah, kiddo?”
“My stomach hur’s.” Tony stood up carefully and nudged the trash can closer to the side of the bed using his foot.
“You gonna blow chunks?” Peter paled in response, wrapping his arms weakly around his midsection. Tony glanced desperately between the small bin and the ensuite across the room.
“Can you make it to the bathroom?” Peter gagged in response.
“Okay, okay. Up and at ‘em, kiddo. Let’s at least sit up here.” Tony pulled up the bin and maneuvered the loopy teenager so he was leaning over it, which was no easy feat.
Peter spat into the bin and looked mildly horrified at the blood and gauze at the bottom. He looked like he was going to say something but then he pitched forward and retched. He hadn’t eaten anything since the day before so not much came up but blood-tinged bile, but still he coughed and heaved while Tony ran his hand up and down the back of his sweat-soaked shirt.
“You’ve got a bit of a fever going on there, bud,” Tony noted with some concern when his hand reached the back of Peter’s neck. Peter slumped back, exhausted.
“‘s normal,” Peter slurred. “Super healing means fever.” Tony nodded in acknowledgement.
“We should get you cleaned up,” Tony said. Peter lazily flipped his head to the side and gave Tony a look.
“Lemme sleep. Dr. Andrews said sleep,” Peter groaned.
“I doubt your scary Aunt would be pleased with me letting you go back to bed like this. That being said, I don’t trust you enough to have a shower, so you’re just gonna sit in the tub under the water while I change your sheets and grab you a change of clothes.”
Once Tony was convinced that Peter wasn’t going to brain himself on the sink, he turned on the shower head and left the bathroom door open just a crack so Peter could clean up with some privacy. He then busied himself switching Peter’s sheets, only struggling for a few minutes with the corners. Once he was finished, he sat back in the chair and started responding to emails.
Ten minutes later, the water shut off. When the next ten minutes passed with no sign of Peter, Tony began to get anxious.
He knocked on the door tentatively.
“Peter, kiddo, you okay?” Upon receiving no response, he felt his heart rate pick up. Pushing open the door, prepared to see blood everywhere and an unconscious teenager, Tony tried to steel himself for how he might have messed up this time.
What he hadn’t expected to see was a half-dressed teenager slumped against the side of the tub, entirely asleep. He had his sweatpants on backwards so the strings were facing back and he had one arm pulled through the head slot on his T-shirt, the rest of the clothing piece left tangled and hanging against his bare chest as his arms stretched across the edge of the bath.
Tony pulled a hand up and rubbed his eyes.
“Jesus, kid. You’re going to be the death of me,” he murmured as he went to gently shake him awake.
Tony helped the half-asleep and drugged up teen put the shirt on properly and opted to leave the sweatpants the way they were before dragging the kid back to bed.
He changed Peter’s gauze once more and had him drink a little bit of juice before going to sit back in the chair he had nested into. When he went to get up off the bed, Peter’s hand lazily grasped at Tony’s wrist.
“Stay,” he mumbled, eyes already closed. Tony rolled his eyes, but complied and climbed in and tried not to smile as Peter’s nearly asleep form curled into his side. It wasn’t long before Tony joined him in dreamland.
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Tony woke up to FRIDAY vibrating the biometrics tracker on his wrist.
“Sir, May Parker is wondering if she should prepare dinner.” Tony grimaced, memories of May’s infamous meatloaf coming to mind.
“Uh...tell her that I’m ordering in tonight, whatever she feels like. My treat. Oh, and let her know that the Spiderling is asleep, but I’ll be down in a few. Pepper will likely be home soon as well.”
“She also said to inform you that she came up earlier and gave Peter another dose of his medication while you were asleep.”
“Good to know. Thanks, FRI,” Tony said, closing his phone and stepping into the adjoining bathroom.
As Tony walked out of the ensuite shaking the excess water off his hands, he stopped in his tracks when he saw the empty bed.
He glanced over to the still closed door and felt his breathing speed up for the second time that day when he heard giggling. His head snapped immediately over to the wall behind him where there was Peter, nearly at the top of the twelve-foot ceiling, hanging on by one hand.
“Look, Miss’r Stark! I’m Spid’r-Man!” Peter said gleefully.
“Christ, kid,” Tony shook his head, taking a deep breath. “Get down from there before you become one with the floor. I prefer Spider-Babies alive, thank you.”
“Don’t w’rry! I’m sticky!”
“Pete, your powers aren’t going to work as well with the medication you’re on. You need to come down before you fall. May would kill me if I let that happen, and I value my life.”
Seemingly understanding, Peter slowly started making his way down haphazardly without any of his usual grace. Every time his hand or foot didn’t stick and he fell a little took a year off his lifespan.
As Peter was climbing and had gotten a few feet lower, Tony received nearly no warning as the kid suddenly lost his grip all together and began plummeting towards the ground. Almost instantly Tony’s nanotech deployed and he rushed to catch him in the split second before he hit the ground.
“Holy shit,” Peter said, still smiling in Tony’s arms looking entirely unharmed.
“What the hell? Are you okay?” Tony asked, still stunned.
“‘course I’m okay!” Peter said, his eyes fever bright. “You always catch me!” Tony dropped his head in defeat.
“Not next time I won’t.” Peter just beamed as Tony retracted his armor and dragged his ass back to bed.
“Nah, you love me too much to dr’p me,” Peter murmured sleepily as the adrenaline wore off. “We’ve got, like, a whole trus’ thing goin’ on.”
“Go to sleep, kiddo.”
“Okay. Love you Mis’r Stark.” As Peter’s breathing evened out, Tony found himself brushing a light kiss on his forehead.
“Love you too, Pete.”