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Pepper groaned as the mattress shifted, burying her face in her pillow.
Tony chuckled, kissing her ear. “Good morning, Mrs Stark.”
“Does it have to be? I’m not done with the night yet.”
“Well Bruce will be up soon, but I think we can work something out. How abouuuuuuttt you stay here and rest up, and I’ll handle breakfast and cartoons?”
The redhead smiled. “You really are a genius.”
He sighed. “Brilliance can be a burden, but I make it look good.”
She giggled, rolling over to kiss him. “So what’s for breakfast?”
“Waffles?”
Pepper arched a brow. “Tonyyyy.”
“What?”
“Remember that conversation we had about how children need a balanced diet?”
“I’ll put fruit on them. That counts as nutritional value, right?”
She rolled her eyes with a huff. “I’m going back to sleep, and I choose to remain ignorant of anything that happens between now and when I wake up.”
“You’re the best.”
He bounded out of bed, humming softly, and Pepper nestled back into the soft mattress with a contented sigh. She was just drifting off again when Tony yelled.
“Pepper!”
She growled. “So much for sleeping in.”
“Pepper!”
The urgency in his tone cut through her drowsiness. She hurried down the hall to Bruce’s room, flinging the door open.
“What’s wrong?”
Tony looked up from where he was kneeling by the bed. Bruce was rubbing his arm, dark curls matted to his face with sweat. She could see red dots all down both forearms, and creeping up his neck.
“Spots, Pepper! He’s got spots!”
She walked over and sat on the edge of the bed, lifting the edge of Bruce’s shirt to check his stomach. There were more spots there.
“Bruce, honey, how do you feel?”
“Not good.” He murmured.
“What kind of not good? Stomach, head, throat?”
“I’m tired and hot.”
“How long have these spots been there? Did you have them last night?”
“No.”
“Do they hurt?”
“They’re kinda itchy.”
The CEO intercepted Bruce’s hand as it strayed towards the rash. “Well don’t scratch.”
Tony pressed his hand to the boy’s forehead. “Geez, you’re burning up. Jarvis, full diagnostic.”
The AI was silent for a moment. “Master Bruce’s temperature has been steadily rising over the past few hours, and is currently 101° - I believe he has a fever.”
“101! Get my doctor here pronto and scan the penthouse HVAC system for biological attacks and bacteria.”
“Relax, Tony. We’ll double check, but it looks like chicken pox.”
“I knew sending him to school was a terrible idea – you can’t tell where those brats have been.”
She sighed. “It’s only chicken pox. Most kids get it, it’s not as bad as measles and Bruce will be fine in a few days.”
“What do we do?” the inventor looked around, “How do we fix it?”
“You could grab a glass of water and the child paracetamol.”
“Right! I can do that. Hang tight, Brucey.”
Tony ran out and Pepper combed her hand through the boy’s damp curls.
“Let’s get you cleaned up, okay? You’ll feel better in some new PJs and sheets.”
“I’m sorry I made a mess.”
She kissed his forehead. “You’ve got nothing to be sorry about. We’re gonna take care of it, okay? We’ll always take care of you.”
Pepper helped him out of bed, the child clinging to her hand as they shuffled towards the bathroom. She didn’t let go, holding his clammy fingers tight as she turned the water on and tried to find a good temperature.
“Arms up.”
Bruce raised them sleepily, and Pepper rolled the top up over his head, careful it didn’t stick to his skin. Tony burst in as they got the rest of his pyjamas off, fumbling with the medicine bottle as he tried to read the dosage and unscrew the lid at the same time.
“Stupid child-proof packaging! Alright, buddy, take this.”
Bruce opened his mouth obediently, swallowing the syrup, and Pepper helped him into the shower.
“Don’t scratch.” she softly scolded, ushering Tony into the bedroom ahead of her and closing the bathroom door.
“Jarvis, where’s the doc?”
“Dr Hendricks is on his way, sir. Estimated travel time is fifteen minutes.”
“Fine, fine.” He pushed his hair back off his face.
Pepper rubbed her hands over his shoulders. “Fifteen minutes isn’t going to make a difference, Tony. Take a breath.”
“I just wanna make it better.”
“I know. Why don’t you make breakfast like we planned? I’ll bring Bruce down and get him settled on the couch while we wait for the doctor.”
“Okay. No waffles though – sick people need healthy food.”
She smiled. “You’re so attractive when you’re being a responsible parent.”
“Keep it in your pants, Pep, I’ve got toast to make.”
Pepper had just gotten Bruce comfy on the couch with his favourite stuffed elephant when Dr Hendricks arrived. The portly older man bustled in out of breath, apologetically waving a hand.
“Forgive me, the crosstown traffic was a nightmare.”
“It’s completely fine,” Pepper shook his hand with a smile, “Nothing life-threatening. Bruce is a little unwell.”
“Let’s take a look, shall we?” Dr Hendricks smiled, setting his bag on the coffee table.
Bruce eyed him nervously as he started taking out his equipment, clutching a cushion to his chest. Pepper sat on the couch beside him and took his free hand in hers, circling her thumb over his palm to distract him. He leaned into her side, face warm against her arm.
“How long have you been feeling a bit off, young man?” Dr Hendricks said as he checked Bruce’s temperature.
“Since I woke up.”
“What about last night? You didn’t feel queasy or itchy then?”
“Maybe a bit tired.”
“Hmm. Open wide and say ‘ah’ for me.”
“Aaaaaaah.”
“Good boy. Let’s check those glands.”
He reached out to place his fingers under Bruce’s ears, and the boy recoiled sharply into Pepper. The doctor stopped, glancing at the redhead.
“It’s okay, honey. Dr Hendricks needs to feel your throat to see if it’s swollen. He’ll be quick.”
“Over in a second.” He nodded.
Bruce still looked sceptical, but he straightened up and let the doctor touch his neck, fingernails biting into Pepper’s hand. He relaxed as soon as the older man moved away, pressing his elephant into his stomach.
“Bruce, can you show me your spots?”
The boy shyly raised his sleeve enough to expose the angry red rash on his forearm and Dr Hendricks nodded.
“I think your mom’s right. You’ve got regular old chicken pox.”
“That’s a relief.” Pepper sighed.
“So you need to spend as much time as possible resting. No school until those spots are gone, plenty of fluids for the fever. I’ll write down a couple of things to help with the itching, but you have to promise you’ll try not to scratch, okay?”
He nodded.
“Good boy. I hope you feel better soon.”
Pepper stood, walking him back to the elevator. “Thanks for coming so quickly, doctor. I didn’t think it was serious but it’s always better to check.”
“Well he’s in for an uncomfortable couple of days, but he’ll be fine.” He handed her the list of instructions.
“I’m sure Tony will do whatever he can to cheer Bruce up.”
*****
Tony squirted another blob of lotion onto his finger, gently dabbing it onto an angry red dot. Bruce huffed.
“I know it’s cold, buddy, but it’ll help with your itches.”
The boy didn’t say anything, sticking his lip out as Tony kept working his way from spot to spot.
“Ya know, you kinda look like a cheetah. Think you’ll be faster?”
Bruce giggled. “That’s not how it works, Tony.”
“How do you know? I bet no one’s ever tested it. We could be chicken pox pioneers.”
The inventor put the lid back on the balm and left it by the sink, helping the boy put on his pyjamas without catching the fabric on his skin too much. Tony took Bruce’s hands in his.
“How ya feeling? Hot, sick, tired?”
“Not really, just scratchy.”
“Some time in the workshop might help with that. You wanna watch me do some cool science?”
He nodded eagerly, curls bouncing, and Tony hoisted the boy onto his hip. He immediately clung to the genius, resting his head against the arc reactor as they made their way downstairs. Tony put him down next to his desk, dragging over a comfy chair and making sure Bruce was drowning in blankets before taking his own seat.
“Let’s have a look at this saltwater filtration pump I’ve been working on,” he pulled up a 3D schematic, “I wanna be able to deploy it at oil spills so it can clean up without sucking in the local marine life.”
“Won’t the sponge get dirty really fast?”
“That’s the clever bit,” Tony smiled, “I’m designing something that can break the oil molecules down and reduce the need for humans to pull the machine out of the water. Wanna see?”
Bruce nodded, leaning on the arm of his chair so he was closer to the screen. The two of them had been talking it over for about an hour when there was a knock on the workshop door. Tony looked up to find Bucky and Natasha waving through the glass.
“Hey! We weren’t expecting you guys.” He buzzed them in.
“Sorry to interrupt. Pepper told us Bruce was sick.”
“Yeah, but he’s toughing it out, right bud?” Tony gently ruffled the boy’s hair.
“Go on, Tasha.” Bucky nudged her forward.
The redhead walked over and squeezed into the chair next to Bruce, taking his hand.
“Woah – you sure that’s a good idea? He’s still contagious.”
“That’s why we’re here.”
Tony arched a brow. “You brought Nat over to get her sick?”
Bucky shrugged. “It’s good for her immune system. All the suburban moms do it.”
“They have chicken pox playdates?”
“Yeah, all the time,” he gave the inventor a sceptical look, “Do you talk to other parents, Tony?”
“Mostly just you.”
“Well that’s depressing.”
“I’m not a huge fan of the people who send their kids to Brucey’s school.”
“Too much in common?” Bucky snickered.
“Something like that.”
“Well compared to the polio and smallpox and TB we had when I was a kid, chicken pox is a fuckin’ breeze.”
Tony made a face. “I guess when you put it like that…maybe Bruce should lick her face or something?”
The assassin stared at him. “Don’t make it weird.”
“Oh sure, I’m the weird one.”
“Obviously.”
Tony rolled his eyes. “How about we go upstairs and play a game? I don’t think Buck and Nat want to watch us work.”
“What kind of game?” the little Russian tilted her head.
“Bruce’s choice.”
She leaned in to whisper to him, the two kids muttering while Tony cleaned up until finally Nat straightened with a determined expression.
“Jenga.”
“Jenga it is!”
They played a couple of board games until Bruce got sleepy, migrating to the couches, the kids curled up together as they watched some Pixar thing Tony vaguely remembered watching after one of Bruce’s nightmares. He sat at the table with Bucky, talking quietly.
“Things still going well with the tutor?”
“Oh yeah, Tash loves her. And she’s been really good about our security needs.”
“I’ll ask Pepper to give her a bonus.”
“You don’t have to do that.”
Tony shrugged. “I don’t have to, but I want to. You guys are important to us. I want Nat to have good people around her.”
“Thanks then, I guess.”
“My pleasure.”
The ex-sniper looked up as the credits started rolling. “We should head off.”
“What’s the rush? We don’t know if Nat is properly infected yet. Might need more exposure.”
“It’s late, and you guys probably wanna do the family dinner thing.”
Tony gave him an incredulous look. “Barnes. You are family.”
The brunette looked away, mouth twitching.
“Look, how about this – we’ll call your buddy Steve up here, have a big junk food feast, and then you and Nat can stay over. I’ve got plenty of spare rooms for you, and she can sleep on the trundle in Bruce’s room. It’ll be a germ-spreading sleepover.”
He rubbed his fingers over his metal fist. “I don’t like being up here in your glass box.”
“Okay firstly, it’s more of a glass pyramid, and secondly, you can survive one freakin’ night.”
“There’s no secondary exits.”
“ I’m the secondary exit, pal. Flying suits, remember? Not that it’s relevant though, because even if we were attacked, I think between you, me and Stevie we can handle it.”
Bucky didn’t say anything for a moment, watching Nat and Bruce pick the next movie.
“Come oooooon. I’m sure we’ve got some Iron Man pyjamas in your size.”
He exhaled loudly. “Fine. Why the hell not?”
“That’s the spirit!”
“But I’m not wearing your merchandise. I’ll borrow something from Steve.”
Tony snorted. “Shoulda known – you’re the founding member of the Cap fan club. Jarvis, call Steve, and tell Pepper we’re having overnight guests.”
Pepper stepped out of the elevator into a furious Super Smash Bros battleground, Steve frantically mashing buttons as Bucky ‘accidentally’ nudged him with a metal elbow. Natasha was studying the TV with a serious expression, controller held close to her face. Bruce sat in Tony’s lap, the inventor loudly encouraging him as his character pummelled Steve’s.
“Hit him with the baseball bat! The bat!”
“Oooooh! Right off the edge!”
“You’ll pay for that, Rogers.”
“You knocked me off first!”
“Watch out for Pikachu! Oh god damn it.”
Pepper clucked her tongue. “Language, Tony.”
The engineer looked up guiltily. “Pep! How was your day?”
“Better now,” she walked over, running a hand through Bruce’s hair, “How are you feeling, sweetie?”
“We’re having a blast, right bud?” Tony kissed his head.
“I’m okay. Bit hungry.”
“I can take care of that.” Pepper said.
Steve sighed, putting down his controller. “I’ll do it – I’m dead anyway.”
Bucky and Natasha had a silent conversation, the redhead’s brow furrowed. Eventually she shrugged and the sniper turned to Steve.
“Talia will help you pick dinner.”
The blond smiled. “That’d be great.”
“Pep can take your spot – but be warned, Brucey and I are kicking major butt.”
“Bring it.” She slid into Steve’s chair.
The captain and Natasha went into the other room to order while they started the next match. They made it through a few more vicious rounds before the food arrived, Natasha trailing Steve around the apartment as he set the table and went down to the lobby to meet the delivery guy.
“Nat and your bestie seem to be getting along.” Tony said.
“He visits.”
“You could see him more if you lived in the tower.” The engineer said too innocently.
“Never gonna happen, Stark,” Bucky drawled, “But maaaaaybe if tonight’s sleepover works out, we could crash sometimes. Maybe.”
“Really?” Bruce’s eyes lit up, “Could we make a blanket fort?”
The ex-spy snickered. “Pal, we can make the world’s best blanket fort.”
“Grub’s up!” Steve called from the kitchen.
“Finally.” Bucky tossed his controller aside, bounding into the other room.
“Come on bud, let’s get you fed.” Tony lifted Bruce down, the boy hurrying ahead as the inventor offered Pepper a hand up.
“Thanks,” she frowned, reaching out to grab Tony’s collar. “What’s that?”
“What’s what?”
“That spot on your neck.” She lightly pressed it.
“Bad touch, Pep, bad touch!”
She sighed, tilting her head. “Tony, did you have chicken pox as a kid?”
The inventor looked sheepish. “I didn’t have the most swinging social life.”
“Why didn’t you say anything? I could have stayed home with Bruce”
Tony shrugged. “You’re busy, and I wanted to look after him.”
Pepper smiled, wrapping her arms around him. “Sometimes you’re wonderful.”
“Sometimes?” he said indignantly.
“But I’m not staying home to nurse you. I did it for ten years and I’m done.”
“But Pep!”
“No buts. Steve might make you chicken soup, if you ask nicely.”
Tony snorted. “And is he going to put cream on my spots too?”
She winked. “Depends how nicely you ask.”