Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Tony knew that day was going to be bad.

Tony felt like the entire world had been tilted on its axis. As if everything was wrong. Not enough to kill everyone, but enough for things to feel... wrong. But he tried to brush it off, blaming his everloving anxiety. God, after New York, that had gotten worse. Maybe the man needed to be medicated. Something. But later in the day, his worrying was right. Goddammit, Pete.

Tony had something to look forward to, at least. He could get his mind off of his worrying. It was the second weekend of the month, and that meant, no matter what, it was Avengers' night. Of course, not everyone stayed all night, but it was fun even if it was a few people.

This exact night was going to be Tony, Bruce, Sam, Steve, Bucky, Natasha, and Peter. Tony, Peter, Steve, Bucky, and Natasha were always there, and new people came and went. If they were lucky, Pepper joined in. It was nice and calm. The hero appreciated it, no matter how small the group was.

Tony was informed when the boy had made his way into the large building, and they worked in the lab for about an hour and a half. He always welcomed feedback on things to add to the Spider-suit, and Peter was in the midst of making his own robot. Kind of like Dum-E, but hopefully smarter. But the pupil delayed any coding he'd have to do- he always said how much he despised it. They weren't as productive as they normally were, but the two still enjoyed themselves. Peter, on the other hand, complained of a slight headache, which the adult kept calling him a downer for. He needed to learn to listen more.

After a little while, Peter retired to his bedroom (FRIDAY informed his temperature had risen ever so slightly) promising to make dinner for the two to make up for it. The new semester had given him a cooking class, so he was confident that he could nourish them and not burn down the entire tower.

Later that night, around six, they were all going to meet up. The six were all on the living floor, in the main room. Clint was around the tower somewhere but decided to ditch the movie night. His hearing aids were being fixed, so he claimed it fruitless to join in, no matter how much Natasha asked and promised subtitles. The adults all argued about what show or movie to watch. It was a little funny. The room held some of the world's best defenders and here they were, all in pajamas (exempt of Bruce, who was in a button-up and jeans, with his glasses on and Tony in his usual lab wear, a black shirt and some sweats, which had been pajamas on multiple occasions). Even Peter was in checkered pajama bottoms with a white shirt.

They all had opposite interests, which fueled the conflict in disgust for most of the options laid before them. The stubborn group ended up settling on The Good Doctor, which had a fresh new season. Bucky, Natasha, and Peter all enjoyed it, so they won the vote. During some of the sadder parts in the first episode, Tony excused himself to check his email and just waste time. He ended up regretting this, even though nothing would have changed if he stayed.

"Hey, Pete, how's the spaghetti coming along?" Tony asked upon returning. He earned no response, which was odd from his intern because he never stopped talking. The spider-child standing over the oven with his hand around the handle, and the water was boiled, starting to rise over the small pot, promptly burning his hand. Bruce was at his side, tapping his shoulder and snapping his fingers in front of Peter's face. Tony frowned. "What are you doing?" The engineer crossed his arms, confusion coloring his expression.

"Peter's having a seizure," Bruce answered, shockingly moderate. The doctor snapped his fingers in front of the unresponsive boy again, radio silence coming from the teen. Tony would've slapped Bruce then and there for being so melancholy about this.

No, Tony had never handled a seizure before, and frankly wasn't that educated on it. But he never expected to handle it, so why now of all times? He had a distant relative with epilepsy, but that mostly happened at night and even as a kid, he was never trained on this kind of stuff, so this caused the billionaire to panic.

"What?! He's having a what?!" Tony, on the other hand, was constantly worried about his kid throughout the day, so this was a nightmare. His panic was causing the others to look up, and Steve seemed the most worried but about the shorter man's heart rate more than the teen who was probably about to die.

"A seizure. Just an absent one." Bruce took the kitchenware from his hands, setting it down and finding a paper towel to absorb the heated water. "Give him a second, he'll be back." After a quick wipe down of the counter, the genius put his hands on Peter's shoulders, mostly so he didn't fall over. Tony's trail of questions didn't diminish, and he was a little offended about how calm the entire room was. Even Bucky was quiet, which was a first.

"Why is he having a seizure?!" Tony came over, and Bruce gently eased him away to not crowd him. The doctor was acting more like a father at the moment than Tony ever had. But he did respect how the green hero took things into control, ordering the others.

"Steve, turn off the TV, Nat, dim the lights. Tony, I don't know why. I'm not that kind of doctor." Bruce gently helped his "patient" to the couch. He seemed on autopilot, his legs moving sluggishly and he was sat on the edge closest due to Peter's legs starting to become annoying to move.

"You sure fucking seem like it! You just diagnosed him!" Tony felt so helpless. He stood there, doing nothing. What was he supposed to do in this situation? Was there anything that could fix this? Was Peter going to get seizures like this all the time?

"I didn't diagnose him," The lights dimmed to low light, the cities obnoxious lights gently making their way into the room to help illuminate it. The TV's bright screen was the best source of light, and it was most likely a better idea to just turn it off, but nobody knew what to do. Besides Bruce, apparently, who was kneeled in front of the boy. "I just said he was having a seizure. I didn't diagnose him with epilepsy or something, that's not my spec-"

"Who has epilepsy?" Peter glanced around, confused by all that stares. He seemed even more confused than he was on the couch instead of in the kitchen."What's wrong?"

"You were having a seizure, we believe," Bruce said gently. Tony let out a sigh of relief behind the couch while Peter showed little manifestations of distress.

Peter massaged his temples, uncertainty spreading across his look. Tony chalked it up to Bruce being a dick in the way of explaining it because if it were him, he wouldn't want to be told he just had a seizure and have no recollection. "I did?" The teen uttered. His face flushed a light crimson.

"You fucking collapsed and went-" Bucky locked up and shook and made grunts as if he were having a seizure of his own. Sam struck the back of Bucky's head, hissing in his ear to stop being a dick. No matter their jokes, everyone was a little worried about the highschooler. None of them had dealt with anything like that, so they had no idea how to react. Thank god for Bruce or nobody would've noticed.

"For a therapist, you're pretty mean to children," Natasha commented. Tony didn't comment, even though he knew how much Peter hated to be referred to as a kid, but since he didn't seem too annoyed, he didn't comment.

"I'm only a therapist on weekdays. I can be as mean as I want when my shift's up." Sam retorted, throwing popcorn at her. Tony frowned at the two.

Bruce continued. "It was an absence seizure, Peter. It makes sense you didn't notice. Anyway, you weren't out for long, just about a minute. You burnt your hand on the water a little, but you should be okay. But I'll finish the spaghetti." Bruce seemed abnormally calming, standing and going into the kitchen to finish.

"That's it?!" Tony threw his hand in the air.

"Well, yeah, Tony. I don't want him to have another seizure and drop scalding hot water all over himself, which is a surprise he didn't before, but not a lot happened. He might have a hell of a headache and that should be it, and worst-case scenario, he has another. Depending on the severity, we just take him to the medbay and get an MRI, see the cause-"

"You want to take my kid to an MRI?!" Tony asked, panic settling in. He was being particularly loud. Peter closed his eyes, covering his ears. Steve seemed to be picking up on this, the most vocal of the silent group.

"Tony, calm down, you'll freak the kid out," He whispered, but the subject was between them, so it wasn't that quiet. "Pete, you okay?"

"Just a headache a-and my eyes hurt, but besides that I'm okay, I swear. We can just go back to watching the show, Mr. Stark." Peter was trying to get the stares off him and back to normal. It eventually worked. Tony sat in Bruce's spot, Sam migrating to the ground. They made a silent agreement to help out Peter's sudden illness. Bruce gave the two a plate, making one for himself and then one for Natasha. Tony kept a close eye on his kid, and noticed as the boy ate, he had to squint at the TV to see.

"You okay there, kiddo?"

"My eyes hurt a little." He murmured, not wanting to complain to the entire room. Tony glanced at Bruce, who was on his laptop typing away and handed over his glasses, no words spoken. Peter reluctantly put them on. "Oh, that helps. Thanks, Dr. Banner."

"No problem, bubba," Tony answered for him, taking the empty plate of everyone. "I'll get you some medicine, alright?"

"Thanks, Mr. Stark." Peter yawned, a smile across his face. Tony got up, setting the dishes in the dishwasher and walking to the cabinet for... anything. Tony could hear Bruce's quiet conversations about Peter checking in the med bay if he felt off, and then heard Bucky shout at him to shut up.

Peter seemed to be feeling better as the medicine kicked in, eventually returning the glasses to Bruce. The other four worried less but Tony kept a watchful eye on the teenager. He prayed the doctor was looking for ways to help his kid. Tony was worrying too much, but he didn't care. He made a mental note to call May the next morning.

The next time he glanced over at the boy, his eyes were rolled back into his head and he seized and shook. Tony grabbed his shoulders. "Bruce- Bruce he's-"

"I'm kidding." Peter laughed, snapping out of it. That damned smile made Tony feel a little pleasanter but didn't make him less pissed. He leaned over, head on his mentor's shoulder. A yawn escaped past his lips. "I wanted to see if I could freak you out."

"You're never coming back to these movie nights. You're such a fucker, you're worse than Bucky." Tony pushed Peter off his arm, who continued to snicker. "You're a little shit.

"I know."

It was now Sunday, and Tony was feeling a surge of motivation to work on his multitude of unfinished projects. It was nearing six when he got up because the man's sleeping schedule was an utter mess. So he got a couple of hours of work in when hell struck through again.

"Mr. Barton has awoken and requests your presence in the kitchen. It is urgent." She hummed. Oh, little did she know.

Tony yearned he had taken this more earnestly, but knowing it was Clint, he finished up his line of code before going up. He had reasoning for this, too. The last time FRIDAY had claimed his needs were critical, Clint started furiously signing Steve was going to get murdered for drinking the rest of the chocolate milk. Spoiler alert, it was Pete.

When the doors opened, Clint was on his knees, inserting in his hearing aids. Peter was on the carpet, his muscles tense and shaking to and fro. Tony raced to the figure, dread rising in his appearance. The boy's eyes were rolled back into his head, a weird monster groan extending from his lips. Smashed glass was on the ground, water absorbing into Peter's socks and pajama pants.

It was a horrific scene. Peter's face was pale and drool leaked down his lips and his hands hit the tile, glass crunching under his socked feet. His eye kept flickering back into his head, gasping for air. Tony knew this would be engrained in him.

"Pete, oh christ- Clint, go get Bruce. Run." Tony reported and Clint did so, sailing off. Peter kept trembling, letting out more cries. Tony put a rolled-up fleece under Peter's collar so he wasn't beating his head against the carpet. Thank god he hadn't hit his head on the tile, but he was pretty damn close.

The pulsations finally stopped two minutes after Tony arrived. The young boy eventually discontinued, lolling his head to the side. Tony lifted him, speeding him into the lift. Peter let out a mutter, but the mentor couldn't tell a word coming out of his mouth. Blood drooled out of Peter's lips, which Tony rubbed away and was positive to tell Bruce of. (Thank god Peter had just bitten his lip.)

Tony ran across the campus, holding Peter close to him, meeting Bruce and Clint halfway. Bruce looked down at the boy who looked so goddamn tiny in Tony's arms. He despised it. He hated how skinny and fragile his child was in his arms. Bruce didn't comment. "How long was it?" He accompanied him into the medbay.

"I-I don't know, two minutes when I was up there."

"It was about a minute before that," Clint added, out of breath. "Is he dying? He kept breathing like he was an animal o-or something."

"Was it his head shaking or his legs?"

"His entire body. He - it was like he was groaning or something." Tony gently held the boy closer to his chest, who was like a corpse in his forearms.

"Sounds like a tonic-clonic. We need to get him inside." Bruce seized a stretcher and Tony reclined the patient across it, and Peter still didn't rouse. "I'll help some of the nurses to help me, but Tony you stay outside."

"You have to keep me updated."

"I will." And Bruce disappeared behind the tall doors. Tony sat at the dumb waiting rooms, calling May out of worry. She was going to kill him. Tony rested his head in his hands.

"Hello?" May answered. She sounded... tired. Tony took in a deep breath, trying to clear the image of Peter thrashing out of his mind.

"Hey, uh, May. We... er..."

"What happened?" She interrupted. She could sense it, apparently. Tony sighed, wanting nothing but to vomit the words up. He let out a deep sigh, starting from the beginning.

"Peter on Friday wasn't feeling that great and... according to Bruce, had a, um, an absent seizure." Unfortunately, the word 'absent'. didn't help lighten the shock. He cursed at himself.

"What?! He's never had a seizure, why would he have one now?!" She seemed so stressed. Tony wished he could take away all her stress. Tony wished he could cure her problems. But he couldn't. No matter how much money he threw, he would have to face these things with words.

"We aren't sure, but it wasn't that bad. It was just like he zoned out into the air, we didn't even know until Bruce said something. But today... it just got worse. He had a seizure you're imagining. On the ground shaking... yeah." The billionaire felt like the seizures were all his fault, even though he couldn't control it. May had every right to hate him, to yell at him, to just... cuss him out. But instead, she was worried about her nephew.

"Is he going to be okay?"

"We aren't sure. Most likely, but... I'm waiting for the results. I'll keep you updated. I'm waiting as vigilantly as you are." Tony tapped his foot quick, guilt eating his abdomen. You should have told her earlier.

"You better." She sighed. Violence had subsided in her voice, and she sounded more tired and upset. She had never gotten along with Tony 100%, but they bonded over their regard for the child who was... now getting an MRI. May's words were sharp and harsh. "Goodbye, Tony."

"...Bye, May."

Chapter Text

Tony fell asleep around midnight, stress keeping him awake. Peter Fucking Parker, when you pull through, you're so grounded. He just wanted to know why this was happening. The adult woke up to someone shaking him, and he opened his eyes. Steve smiled softly, his tone gentle. "Hey, I thought you wouldn't want to sleep forever."

"Is Peter awake?" Tony sat up, the night's stress carrying over. A blanket fell off him. He didn't remember that being there last night. Thanks, Steve.

"Yeah, he is. He's feeling much better."

"Thanks." Tony sighed, relief washing over him. "Thank you. For- for everything."

"Of course. He's awake, he's on the phone right now, but I doubt he'd mind if you interrupted."

Tony nodded, standing and setting the blanket on the chair next to him. The man entered and Peter was up in bed, a table in front of him with breakfast on it. His phone was up against it. He had tubes hooked up to his chest and a breathing mask, which freaked Tony out a bit. But Peter was on facetime with Ned, as Steve said. And for some reason, wearing glasses that were slightly too big for his face.

"Hey, bud." Tony breathed out, the anxiety he'd been holding up finally leaving. He's okay. He's fine.

"Oh, hey! Ned, say hi to Mr. Stark!" He turned the phone and Tony waved, trying to calm himself, but the kid looked part machine. Why were there so many tubes hooked up to his kid's chest? But he looked fine- "I'll call you later." And he hung up the phone. Thank god. Peter started to remove the mask, which spiked Tony's heart rate, but he prayed the boy knew what he was doing.

"How are you feeling?" He sat down, not sure what to ask. Does it hurt? Did it hurt? What caused it? What did the seizure feel like?

"Better. Dr. Banner explained to me what happened. Supposedly my fricking school upped the pesticides and it got in my freakin' system, and with the Spider-DNA, it fricky-dicky'd everything up."

"For the love of God, please just say fuck." Tony smiled. "That explains all the tubes, then?" He sat at the end of the bed.

"Yeah, they're just breathing machines. I can take the mask off, but he says if I get wheezy I gotta put it back on. I guess my asthma's coming back, which I'm not excited about. I don't miss this contraption." He gestured to the machine pumping out air. "I thought it was gone, but I'm not sure. I feel fine, though! Ned says it made some of the rooms smell funny for them, but for me it just murdered me. The super doctor team thinks it was trying to kill off my spider-side or some spooky shit."

Tony frowned, letting that curse slide. "Well, No Spider-Manning for you until you're fully recovered. That will be your grounding. So what's up with the geeky glasses?"

"They're mine." Peter frowned. "I couldn't see all that well, so May grabbed them before she came."

"Wait, May's here?" Tony raised an eyebrow. He looked around for any proof, like a purse or... anything, really.

"She visited last night but had work." Peter took off the glasses, looking at them in his palms. "Bruce says they're gonna do more testing to see if my spider-side is fully gone, but I hope not. When I got bit, my asthma went away and my vision got better. It was like Steve! The bite was a medicine, except now I'm venomous."

"You're not venomous, Peter. Don't try to find out, either. You used to wear these all the time?" Tony tapped the spectacles. Peter scrunched up his nose in frustration and put them back on.

"Yeah. Here," The teen pulled up an old picture on his phone of himself (embarrassingly) at a science fair, in front of a chemistry set. The younger boy smiled into the camera. He had shaggier hair and looked skinny, resembling Peter more now than anything else. "I was on T at the time, I promise. It's a slow process."

"Wow, you won? How nerdy."

"Thanks, Mr. Stark, my confidence is boosting. Do you think I'll ever be able to go back as Spider-Man?"

"I mean, the pesticide altered your DNA, so I doubt anytime soon until it's fully out of your system. But in the future, about twenty years when I unground you, sure."

"I'm being grounded?!"

"You scared me, therefore you are grounded. Your DNA's all... fucky."

"My DNA's all funky-wonky."

"Motherfucker-"

Peter didn't go back to school the next day, but that Tuesday he did. Tony was in meetings all day with Pepper. He tried his best to stay interested but was too bored to handle this.

Tony would try to feel a little guilty for appearing mildly uninterested, but these two... V-Sauce ripoffs seemed so cocky, it reminded him of himself. He wasn't loving this, to the point where he nearly thanked "god" when his phone rang. Pepper glared at him and looking down at who it was, his face dropped. All anger thinned in her face when he saw the seriousness of his expression.

"It's the kid's school. I'll be back." He stood up, stepping out into the hall, standing against the heavily blurred glass. "Hello?"

"Is this Ms. Parker?" Thank god the nurse was an old lady and had no idea who Tony was, or half the phone calls would have been nine times longer. Sometimes he hated his fame, especially when it affected Peter.

"No, this is Mr. Stark. I'm one of his legal guardians as well." Please don't be another seizure. Please don't be another seizure. Please-

"Mr. Parker is prescribed for a medical inhaler, correct?" Thank god, but oh, fuck, kid. Your asthma is back, huh? At least it's that. No more seizures.

"He should be. Is something wrong?" Tony tapped his foot, grabbing his car keys. "Is he having an asthma attack?"

"No, but he is complaining of some wheezing and has the symptoms of asthma. He had no refill."

"Alright, I'll pick one up for him. Can I speak to him?" Tony sighed, relief and anxiety stirring up in him at the same time.

"One moment, he's on the cot."

Tony pressed the phone to his chest during the transition, peeking into the business meeting. "Pepper, I'm sorry, but I have to go get the kid, his asthma's acting up."

"Can't his aunt get him?" She asked in her professional tone. "You have meetings." She gestured to the two men, who frowned.

"Pepp, she's at work and," He frowned. "You know him and his... just- I promise I'll be back by dinner." Tony didn't wait for a response, knowing it'd make him feel worse and make him take more time to go get his son- to go get Peter. Not son. "Hey, bambino." He said softly.

"Hi, miss'r stark." His voice sounded light and he was indeed wheezing. Okay, okay, asthma time.

"Hey, kiddo. Your asthma's flaring again?" He transferred the phone to his car as he got in it, driving just at the speed limit. He couldn't afford to get a ticket right now.

"Yessir." He murmured."I'm afraid to go to gym 'cuz I don't wanna have an asthma attack."

"I know, bambino. I'm on my way, is there one at your house?"

"Yeah, under the the-the sink. It might be a li-" Tony hated the wheezing. "-ttle old. H-Haven't needed it since Ben-"

"Alright, kiddo." Tony didn't want to upset the boy now. He just wanted to be helpful. "I'm almost at your building. Good thing my meeting was at some lame paper company, right?"

Tony could hear the grin in Peter's voice. "Like The Office?"

"Exactly like The Office."

"Thanks, Mr. Stark." God, he sounds so young.

"No problem. Lemme talk to your nurse, alright?"

"Yessir."

"Hi," He said to the nurse. "I'm on my way with an inhaler for him, and I'll be taking him home after."

"He should be fine to go back to class."

"Yeah, but he hasn't had a flair-up in a while and I'd like to keep an eye on him."

"You'll need to check him out at the office and then he can go."

"Thank you."

Tony got out of the car, taking his key that May had generously gifted him and making his way inside. He beelined for the bathroom, searching under the cupboards. Jesus, this kid used to have more medication than Steve. He found the red-labeled box and rushed out of there.

He pulled up at the school, hurrying in. The nurse's office was across the hall from where he was supposed to check himself in, but his Parent Anxiety had him go in there first, so he ditched signing in altogether.

The old woman didn't even react when it was Tony Stark or the fact he burst into her office, and instead motioned for Peter to come over. The boy did so, and for fuck's sake, looked different. He looked smaller, skinnier. It had only been a few days. He had those big ass glasses on and he had small wheezing breaths. "Hey, bubba." He held out the box to the boy. "You're going to give me gray hairs, Pete."

"Sorry." He murmured. He used it while Tony grabbed his bag from the chair, rubbing the teen's back. Tony ushered him out and into the office, signing him out wordlessly. Tony walked him to the car, keeping an arm around his shoulder. Peter held the inhaler close. "Um, thanks for coming to get me. I only had gym left so I'm not missing any class."

"Pete, you're the smartest kid I've ever met. You shouldn't have to worry about that, since you're going to MIT, right?"

Peter let out a shaky laugh. "Sure, Mr. Stark."

"Good. You don't have a lot of choices."

That weekend when Peter was due to return to the tower, per usual. FRIDAY told the two adults in the room that the teen hadn't gone out in the suit at all. Tony was on the couch and Bruce sat on the ground, typing on his laptop, probably playing a game. Tony sat in anxiety, which summed up the past few das for him. "So, are you sure it's temporary?"

"It should be. The pesticides tried to kill off his spider-side but it's still in his DNA, but if he keeps going to school it'll take longer since he's being surrounded in it."

"He can't just ditch school, Banner." Tony spat.

"You did. Besides, if it's trying to kill him he can." Tony always hated how calm Bruce seemed while any debate and argument, while Tony would blow up and argue. But he assumed it was the Hulk in the man that kept him sane.

"So we have to quarantine my son?" The words 'my son' burnt on his tongue. God, he was turning into the kid's father- a father figure. Not dad. Dadlike mentor.

"If it gets to that, we might have to. He's getting his asthma, his vision's getting worse, and tomorrow morning we'll see if anything's changed. I'd be surprised if he had his Spider-powers."

Tony was about to counter when the elevator pinged. Peter entered, backpack in hand. He set it down next to the couch instead of bringing it to his room. "Hi, Mr. Stark. Hi, Dr. Banner."

"Hey, bubba. You feeling any better?"

"I feel like it's gotten worse." He sighed. "My asthma's back, my eyes, and- and the worst part is I can't take my T anymore. And I have a chem quiz.

"What?" Tony paused, turning to look at the teen.

"It's on Thursday and I'm afraid I won't do well-"

Tony sighed, smiling a bit. "No, kid, about the testosterone."

"Oh. Since it's made for post-bite me, if I took it, it'd probably turn me into Steve but grosser."

Peter called everyone in the tower 'Mr.' or 'ms.', no matter who it was. But when it came to Steve, that boy had some hatred for him. It wasn't because of the airport, it had to be because of the damn videos he had to watch all the time. And frankly, the entire tower found it hilarious.

"Alright, then, we need to fix this. Bruce."

The doctor sighed, not peeling his eyes from his computer. "We can do some tests if you want, but we can't do much until tomorrow. I'm sorry, kid. Did you tell your school?"

"How would I be able to? 'Sir, I'm Spider-Man, you're slowly killing me.' I can't do that." Peter pouted.

Tony sat up straighter, throwing his hands into the air. "They could break your spider-DNA! It could do worse for all we know! You need to learn to stand up for yourself!"

"Stop arguing," Bruce interjected. "We'll see in the morning and for now, we just need to wait it out. Why don't we watch a movie?" God, this man was a good meditator. Even if he was kind of a dick.

Peter stood up, getting a bowl of the ACT II popcorn. Bruce put on Beetlejuice, which made Tony scoff. Cheesy. The lights automatically turned off as the movie started, but Peter made three tall glasses of chocolate milk with little difficulty in the dark. He stumbled around a lot more than he usually would, but still did the task. Tony glanced over and the boy was seeing if he could get the sauce bottle to stick to his hands and frowning when it would fall to the counter. Tony felt bad. Peter looked so damn different. After passing out the cups and bowls, he went to get in his pajamas, and with how baggy they were it didn't help the teen's complexion.

Peter pushed the glass towards Bruce more once he returned, noticing it hadn't been touched. Bruce frowned. "Pete, I'm forty-nine. I'm a doctor." The man gestured to the cup.

"And? You don't want it?"

Bruce immediately put a hand in front of it to protect his drink. Tony smiled, shaking his head. Bruce frowned, "No, I'll drink it. Just saying."

"There's no limit on milk and chocolate syrup, Dr. Banner."

"That's true." Tony retorted. "I've drunk half mine."

"That's because you're you, Tony. You like anything with sugar in it. You're like a child in an adult's body, which strikes me with fear when it comes to your company. You and Peter are like the same person." Bruce's face grew into a grin, shaking his head. Peter gasped, offended.

The movie started and the three sat in content, and Peter quoted the musical several times. The movie ended and they put on some TV engineering reality show that was fake because Tony recognized the announcer from some sitcom. But Tony found it funny to laugh at some of their designs and how fake it was, and his mentee took fun in it as well. But shockingly, about halfway into the latest episode, Peter was asleep. Tony sighed, removing the big ass glasses. "Bruce," He sighed. "Is it bad that I'm worried?"

"Why would that be bad?"

"I sound like his dad. But fuck- look how small he is. He's- something's wrong. I'm just worried."

"I know you are, Tony. We all are. He'll pull through, I promise." Bruce shut the laptop, sitting on the coffee table.

"What if he doesn't?" Tony turned to him.

"Tony, he won't die. Maybe his powers are a little messed up, but we can fix that. We- we can recreate the spider bite. We can help. He's lucky he has you. You should get some rest, Tony. I know it's stressing you out, but if you stress him out, it'll get worse. So just try to get some rest, alright? I'll wake you before I start any tests."

Tony sighed in defeat. "Alright. Come on, Bambi, let's get you in bed." The man tucked his arms under Peter's legs and back, lifting him with ease.

The two were guided down the hallway with a dim light by FRIDAY.

"What happened to 'I'm not this kind of doctor'?" Tony asked.

"Well, after seeing how much you care for him, and, hell, after meeting the kid myself, I pretty much decided I was that kind of doctor. I have a good amount of education, I just never finished it."

"Ah. So you bullshitted your way out."

"Yep."

"Good luck trying to bullshit out again after this."

Bruce sighed. "Goddammit."

Tony opened his eyes. It was sunny out, surprisingly. It illuminated the room. He stretched, glancing at the clock.

9:00 AM.

"Fuck you, Bruce!" Tony shouted to nobody in particular, going to the kitchen. "FRIDAY, where's Pete?"

"Mr. Parker is coming up the elevator."

Tony sighed, making coffee. As he took a sip the door opened. "Mr. Stark!" He came over, holding up a cafe bag. "We got bagels!"

"Why?"

"Well, you were still asleep, so I assumed you'd be hungry when you woke up."

"How long were you gone? Did you do the testing?"

"Peter had an asthma attack, so we jumpstarted."

"What the fuck? When?"

"Earlier this morning." Peter hummed. He was bouncing on his toes, tearing off a part of his blueberry bagel and eating it. "Not too early."

"FRIDAY woke me up at six that he couldn't find his inhaler."

"Oh, fuck, kid, I left it in the living room. I'm so sorry, bud." Tony slapped a hand on his forehead, guilt growing in his stomach.

"It's no problem! My asthma's clearing more, but it's still going away. So Dr. Banner was right, so-"

"We can quarantine him until his spider-powers are fully back."

"Which sounds awesome. I'll let my school know and get my homework and... no school. Mr. Stark, I don't have to talk to people. It sounds amazing."

"Okay, Bubba, sure. Just let me know and I'll talk to May and your school." Tony shrugged, eating his bagel like a normal person, instead of tearing it bits by bit.

"Yes please, oh my god. Everyone at my school is a thot."

The two adults gasped in unison. "A what?!"