Chapter Text
“Hey, Pete, how was Oscorp?” Tony asked as Peter walked through the doors of the compound.
“Fine,” Peter shrugged noncommittally. “Kind of boring. Oscorp isn’t as impressive as Stark Industries is,” he said with a smile. Truth was, it wasn’t fine and boring wasn’t the exact word he would use to describe his day, but he wasn’t going to worry Tony about that.
“You ok, kid? You look a little pale,” Tony said, placing a hand on the boy’s forehead. Truth be told, the boy didn’t look well at all. There was a light sheen of sweat on Peter’s face and there was a light tremor running through his body.
“Y-yeah,” Peter stammered, shooing Tony’s hand away from his face. “I just woke up not feeling too great. I think I’m just tired.”
“Alright, kid,” Tony said, looking unconvinced and still worried, “Why don’t you have an early night tonight after dinner.”
“Yeah, that sounds like a good idea,” Peter agreed. Quite honestly, he didn’t now what was wrong with him. Spider bites didn’t cause this many symptoms, did they? He always thought that spider bites were just glorified mosquito bites. But this spider had been…different. He shook the memory out of his head as he headed to his room, falling on his bed, his eyes looking up at the ceiling and his legs dangling over the side. His eyes closed for a moment…
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“Mr. Osborn, sir.”
“Not now, Ericson.”
“Mr. Osborn, I’m sorry, but this is urgent,” Ericson replied, walking into the room further.
“Then say it urgently. I really don’t have time for-”
“One of the spiders is dead,” Ericson cut in in a tense voice.
Ten seconds of deafening silence penetrated every molecule of the room until,
“Come again, Ericson? I believe you said that one of our spiders is dead. You and I both know that they cannot die unless…”
“They bite a host. Yes, sir,” Ericson stated, his voice shaking ever so slightly.
Norman Osborn stood up from behind his desk, fingertips against his mouth, looking directly at Ericson. He approached until he was no more than two inches away from the frightened man’s face.
“And do we know who it bit?”
“Facial recognition from the security cameras in the room identifies him as one of the high schoolers from Midtown who visited today. His name is Peter Parker.” The two men had moved to the security lounge, pouring over a computer that showed the security footage from that day.
“Parker…” Osborn mumbled, stepping back from the screen. “That’s Stark’s adopted kid.”
Ericson didn’t seem to be listening. “He seems fine after the bite. You can see him shake it off of his hand and walk away.”
“Oh, he won’t be fine,” Osborn said lowly. “Amazing,” he whispered, watching the clip of Peter loop on the screen, appearing perfectly normal.
“What do we do, sir?” Ericson spoke.
“Find him. Phase 2 is beginning ahead of schedule.”
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“Peter?” he heard in the distance. “Pete, you ok?” the voice said, now knocking softly on the closed door. Peter opened his eyes blearily as Tony peaked his head in the room.
“Hey bud, you ok there?” Tony said with a small smile. Peter was still in the same position he had fallen asleep in, his body lying at a 90-degree angle to the bed, his legs hanging over the side. He sat up and felt his vision swam. If he were not sitting down, he would have fallen over. Regardless, this did not go unnoticed by Tony, who was by his side in an instant.
“Whoa, Peter, are you alright?” Tony asked, concerned.
“Yeah…” Peter responded with his eyes closed, willing the dizziness to stop. “Just sat up too fast…got a little dizzy.” Tony still looked worried.
“You need to eat something. Come on, Cap made dinner. Bruce is coming too,” Tony said, gripping Peter’s arm. Peter looked at the clock, which read 6 o’clock. He had slept for nearly three hours. He got up, thankful that the dizziness was at least not getting any worse. He let Tony hold onto his arm, however. Soon they entered the kitchen and Tony maneuvered Peter into his usual seat at the table. Peter stared listlessly at the table until he decided to lay his head down on his folded arms. Pepper came in at that moment and gently placed a hand on Peter’s curls. He loved the touch. It often reminded him of May when…
He heard voices coming from across the kitchen.
“Tony, is Peter ok?” he heard Steve ask, concerned as Pepper walked over to the conversation.
“I think so. He said he wasn’t feeling well today and seemed pretty dizzy after he passed out in his room for a few hours after school. He’s probably just coming down with something that everyone has.”
“Tony, he really doesn’t look well. If he’s not feeling better by tomorrow, bring him up to medbay and I’ll check him out,” Bruce said.
“Alright, I’ll see how things go tonight,” Tony agreed.
Dinner was a quiet affair. Steve had made spaghetti and meatballs. Peter knew he should eat, but waves of nausea kept threatening to wash over him every time he took a bite. He allowed himself what he considered an acceptable portion and then excused himself from the table, not looking at the startled faces of Steve, Pepper, Tony, and Bruce. He quickly shut the door to his room a minute later, lying down carefully on his bed, hoping to not jar his stomach further. He was instantly asleep.
The next thing he knew, he woke suddenly and jerked upright in bed, never having actually gotten under the covers. He stumbled off the side of his bed and onto the floor. His vision swam dangerously as his stomach gave a lurch. Still on the floor and not trusting his vision to allow him to walk without falling over, he crawled over to his bathroom. He barely made it to the toilet before he was heaving over the side, throwing up everything in his stomach. His face prickled with the effort as he felt tears leak out of his eyes. The small night light in the corner of the bathroom seemed to be pulsating horribly in his vision. He rammed his eyes shut in disgust, but the dizziness seemed to multiply tenfold without his vision to ground him. He felt his forehead slide off of his arm, which he had been leaning up on the toilet seat as a pillow. In one quick movement, his head slid but was then caught by a hand, preventing it from hitting the ground.
“Hey, Pete, hey. Easy, kid,” Tony’s voice said. The cool hand felt merciful on Peter’s burning skin. It felt as though his whole body was being stabbed with knives over and over again. He felt the hand leave his forehead as he leaned over the toilet bowl one more time. He felt as though his stomach was trying to force its way to the outside. He felt Tony stand up as he turned on the full bathroom light. The light pierced his eyes has he gave a strangled yelp as he threw up once more, now only bringing up stomach acid. But…something was wrong. Instead of just acid in his mouth, he tasted something metallic and coppery. He could feel his consciousness going in and out as he tried to stay kneeling on the bathroom floor.
“FRIDAY, wake up Bruce. Tell him to get down to Peter’s room immediately,” he heard Tony say in a panicked voice.
“W’s wr’ng,” Peter mumbled, his head falling again into Tony’s chest.
“Shh, Peter, just relax, ok?” Tony said, holding Peter’s head with his hand against his chest. His voice sounded far away, distant.
“Feel…f’nny,” Peter slurred, his eyes still closed against Tony’s chest.
“Pete, I need you to keep your eyes open for me, ok? Just stay with me here, bud,” Tony asked, now somewhat frantically.
He heard someone hurry into the room and voices started conversing worriedly in the background. He felt a hand on his forehead as the darkness edged into his periphery once more. He wasn’t sure how much time passed.
Suddenly, he was aflame. He let out a gasp as he bared his teeth in agony, his skin feeling as though it was melting off of him.
“T’ny…help,” Peter whined in a constricted voice as he felt himself reposition on all fours.
“Peter, what’s wrong? Just tell me what’s wrong,” he heard Tony say somewhere close to him.
“Put…out…the flames,” he spat, his breath now coming in ragged gasped as he struggled to stay conscious. “M’on…fire,” he breathed.
“Peter, you’re fine, there’s no fire,” Tony said frantically. Peter could feel Tony touching his back, then his arms, then the back of his neck to try and detect some form of danger or injury.
“Bruce, what the hell?” Tony cried desperately as Peter let out a constricted scream of pain.
“Tony, I have no idea,” Bruce said, sounding equally baffled. “We should get him to medbay.”
“Peter, tell me what hurts, ok? Just tell me what hurts,” Tony said, gently holding Peter’s face in his hands.
“E-everything. My blood is on fire,” he panted, now beginning to claw at his own arms with his hands.
“Ah, ah, kid, stop,” Tony implored, grabbing both of Peter’s hands in his own. “Come on, I’m going to pick you up.”
This task seemed easier in theory as Tony grabbed Peter’s arms, attempting to lift him on his feet. Peter yelped in pain as Tony quickly hoisted Peter up bridal style. He felt himself being bumped along the compound’s corridors as he felt Tony’s head next to his own.
“Peter, I need you to tell me, anything. Did you feel weird today at all? Did anything out of the ordinary happen?!” Tony spoke frantically.
Peter seemed as though he was trying his hardest not to throw up or pass out at this point, but still kept his eyes tight shut and his jaw clenched.
“Spider…bite…” Peter gasped.
“A spider bit you?” Tony sounded astonished. “Hell, kid, what kind of spider? What did it look like?”
“Green…n’black,” Peter replied, sweat donning his face from the effort.
“Tony, I’ve never seen a spider do this to someone,” Bruce murmured.
Peter felt the atmosphere change as they walked through the sliding doors of the medical wing in the compound. He felt himself being laid on a soft surface and his shirt being cut away.
“M-make it s-stop,” Peter slurred weakly, his head lolling onto the surface he had been placed on.
“Peter, listen, I need you to look at me, ok? I need you to stay with us. Just keep listening to my voice,” Tony said, now sounding near hysterical.
“S-so…t-tired,” Peter mumbled. He could feel the darkness creeping up in his vision once more as Tony’s voice became farther and farther away.
“Peter! Kid, do not fall asleep, do you hear me?”
But Tony’s voice was far away now. He could feel his senses slipping away as he tried to hold onto the feeling of anything.
Just make it quick he thought dully. Just make it stop he accepted in his mind as he felt the flames burn him alive.