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Tony Stark had a seizure that morning.
He had one, he got checked out, told that while it looked like an epileptic seizure, it was actually caused by stress, and was sent back to his room with strict instructions to rest.
Tony Stark, futurist, mechanic, Iron Man, did not do rest.
So, he was in the lab when Peter arrived, a skip in his step, flinging his backpack onto the nearest work desk.
“Hey, Mr Stark! You’ll never guess what happened in school today.”
“Earthquake.”
Peter rolled his eyes, moving to lean at the desk beside Tony. “I said you’ll never guess. You don’t have a chance.”
Tony turned in his chair, studying Peter for all of two seconds. His hair was a windblown mess, eyes bright and wide, nothing different about his clothes. It was Thursday, however, and Thursday was Academic Decathlon day – Peter’s stories about which usually included Michelle Jones and her fair but firm control, a kid called Abe using the bell for comedic purposes, and Flash Thompson jeering from the side-lines.
Peter, however, knew that Tony would be able to guess those things, as they happened every week. He spent another second mulling over the rest of the day – May was working the night shift tonight so Peter was staying over, Happy driving him to school tomorrow. Maybe May had cancelled and Peter was going back to Queens that evening? No, Tony would’ve had a text from May.
So, what classes happened on a Thursday for Peter? It was the same schedule each week and Tony was pretty sure he could remember it if he strained for it – two types of sciences, woodworking, English – oh, gym class. It had to be in gym class if Tony wasn’t supposed to guess it.
Peter Parker was notorious in this building for having to pretend to be bad at sports, now he was all new-and-improved from the spider bite. Tony wasn’t supposed to guess gym – more likely, he was supposed to stop at Academic Decathlon and make a joke about Flash Thompson doing something out of character, like getting a question right or being a supportive team player – but that’s why Tony knew it had to be gym.
Gym class, Peter Parker, and him probably excelling. (Peter never thought anyone was aware that he was talented and brilliant – so he’d never expect Tony to think of him doing well.) Tony gave himself a fourth second and decided he’d probably been offered a place on a sport’s team.
But, in the fifth second as he opened his mouth, he caught sight of Peter’s wide, excited eyes and the curve of his smile. Peter wanted to tell Tony what happened at school today.
“No idea, kid,” Tony said at last. “Did Flash finally get a question right at Decathlon?”
Peter laughed. “No, no – he was watching a TV show on his phone the entire time. What actually happened was that I got invited to join the track team!”
Tony smiled, smug, to himself for a heartbeat, before switching up expressions for Peter’s benefit. “Well, of course you did. You accepted, right?”
Peter shrugged. “Not yet, Coach Wilson said I could tell him my answer tomorrow. I’m not sure if I should do it but he totally thinks I should join.”
“Of course you should join,” Tony insisted, kicking the spare stool out from under the desk for Peter to sit on. The kid climbed on and pulled a foot up onto it, resting his chin on his knee.
“But wouldn’t it be unfair? I’m enhanced – I’d beat all the other kids.”
“Then do what Dash did. Come in second.”
Peter’s smile returned. “Is that an Incredibles reference?”
Tony rolled his eyes. “Rhodey made me watch it.”
“You know the second movie’s out, right?” Peter was sitting up straighter now, his eyes wide with ideas. “We should watch it!”
“What, now?”
Peter shrugged. “Or this evening. I mean, technically I’m supposed to do “intern things”.” Peter made the air quotes as he said it, alluding to the fact that Tony had finally written him into the SI database as his personal intern – partially so he could pay the kid on the books, but also because Peter had been telling everyone he was an intern so he could get away with being Spiderman, and Tony liked the idea of him telling the truth.
“As if you don’t just come here three times a week just to annoy me,” Tony replied, waving a hand. “Or is it that you’re trying to get into my will before I die?”
Peter snorted. “May actually knows someone who does that. They befriend elderly people and get stuff when they die.”
“Mr Parker, did you just call me old?”
Peter shrugged. “If the shoe fits.”
The kid slipped off the stool and got to work at his adjacent desk, while Tony watched. The moment the conversation was over, Tony felt himself become weighed. After that morning’s seizure, he hadn’t been confused like the doctor had warned he might be – he’d just been tired with a persistent headache that wouldn’t go away.
Really, Tony knew he needed a nap. Or quiet time without the bright lights of the lab. Or maybe even some calming classical music that wouldn’t surprise him with loud drums and guitar solos.
But because Tony Stark didn’t know what was good for him, he turned back to his screen and kept working. Eventually, he grew bored and achy and moved to look at what Peter was working on, finding him running through his homework and pencilling in his methods in the margins. Tony watched for a little bit, chin slumped onto his hand, until Peter finished and looked over.
“Is watching me do homework really that interesting?”
Tony blinked, then did it again because he was suddenly being spoken to. “Hm?”
Peter frowned. “Are you okay, Mr Stark?”
“Just tired, is all.”
“Are you sure? You look like you got hit by a bus.”
Tony grimaced. “Now you’re definitely not going in the will.”
“Mr Stark.”
“I’m fine, kid.”
“You don’t look fine. FRIDAY-”
“No, don’t go bothering FRIDAY,” Tony said, sitting up suddenly.
Peter ignored him. “FRIDAY, is Mr Stark okay?”
FRIDAY, a traitor, replied, “Boss is currently exhibiting symptoms that relate to the stress-induced seizure he experienced this morning. Other symptoms to look out for are-”
“You had a what?”
Tony blinked and Peter raised his eyebrows at the lack of response.
“Uh.”
“You had a seizure and you said nothing? Does Miss Potts know? Oh, I bet she doesn’t because she’s out in Japan and you’ll do anything to avoid telling anyone when you’re sick. I bet Colonel Rhodes doesn’t know either, or Happy? Does Happy know?”
“Happy and I enjoy keeping our private lives separate.”
“Private lives. Mr Stark! You had a seizure! And you didn’t tell me!”
“I’m not obligated to tell you, Peter,” Tony said, mild, and then took it back immediately afterwards. “I didn’t want you to be worried, okay? I’m fine, I just need to relax more. Stop having so much on my plate.”
“Then why are we in the lab? You should be in bed or at least in front of the TV-”
“You get three days a week to do “intern things”, kid, I’m not having you miss out on that because I was feeling bad this morning.”
“A headache is feeling bad. A seizure is feeling fucking awful and warrants ignoring “intern things”.”
“Who gave you such a potty mouth, Parker?”
Peter gave him a blank stare and climbed down from the stool. “Come on.”
“What?”
“Come on. Let’s go.”
“Where are you going?”
Peter rolled his eyes, grabbing Tony’s hand without looking back and tugging him down from his chair. “We, Mr Stark. We are going upstairs to the living room and we are going to watch a movie which you will fall asleep ten minutes into.”
Tony considered protesting, but he didn’t have it in him. Just because he didn’t know what was good for him didn’t mean he wouldn’t let himself be dragged into mild self-care every now and again.
So, they landed on the sofa and Peter queued up Incredibles 2 and brought drinks and snacks from the kitchen to place on the coffee table. When the movie started, Tony tried to pay attention to the mole man with the giant drill robbing a bank – honest, he did – but he was too preoccupied with Peter, leaning his head on Tony’s shoulder and staring at the screen.
“You should join the track team,” Tony said, quiet.
“Watch the movie,” Peter replied.
“You should, though.”
“I don’t know.”
“You want to be on a sports team, kid. You’ve told me as much. And the spider parts of you don’t necessarily make you faster-”
“Just enhanced,” Peter said.
Tony would’ve shrugged if that wouldn’t displace the kid. “You’d be really good on the track team.”
“You’d be really good if you took care of yourself.” Tony held in his snort. “Seriously, Mr Stark.” Peter looked up at him now, ignoring the big fight scene on the TV. “Not to get sentimental on you – I wouldn’t want to cause heartburn the day you had a seizure – but I don’t really want to lose you, too.”
Tony spent a second thinking the words over. I don’t really want to lose you, too. Because that kid was three parental figures down already, and if Tony didn’t look after himself, he’d be the fourth.
He spent another second coming up with replies. I’m sorry or You won’t. He didn’t feel like promising anything he couldn’t keep or apologising when he wasn’t sure what part he was apologising for.
In the end, Tony shifted and wrapped an arm around Peter’s shoulders.
“I’ll tell Pepper about the seizure,” he said. “And I’ll try to look after myself better.”
It wasn’t a lot, but by the look on Peter’s face, it was enough.
Peter moved to look at the TV again, burrowing into Tony’s side and Peter watched the police appear on screen, the man who looked like a brick – Bob? Probably? – argue with someone. And slowly, slowly, he felt himself relax, felt his eyes fall shut.
Tony didn’t fall asleep during the first ten minutes of the movie, but he did fall asleep during the first twenty.