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"And the whole time, I thought he was joking, so I laughed," Steve finished, taking another sip of his drink as the other Avengers roared with laughter.
Tony, who was in the joining kitchen making another margarita for Bruce, chuckled to himself and looked around the room with a smile. The whole team was in the living area of the compound. Thor was out cold on the couch, evidently tired from their recent battle and sleeping comfortably, but the others were swapping stories and sipping drinks, and for the first time in a while, Tony genuinely felt happy: warm. He savored the moment, wishing he could live in it forever.
Having finished making the drink, he returned to the living room and sat down on the couch next to his intern, who was downing the last of his own drink. Tony had been a little hesitant to give him any alcohol since the kid wasn't quite 21 yet, but the others had insisted he be allowed to join in the festivities, and Tony had decided to stay sober for a change, so he figured he might as well let Peter have a little supervised fun.
Not long after the party had started, Clint suggested they turn a board game into a drinking game, and before Tony knew it, Peter's copy of Disney Scene It was no longer the family-friendly version they'd played before.
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"It's...aww, fuck, what's his name?! Dopey! IT'S DOPEY!" Steve yelled, almost spilling his drink.
"Woooah, language, Captain!" Tony chuckled, hitting him with a high-five while Bruce, Peter, Nat and Clint voiced their disappointment.
"Whose idea was it to do teams, anyways?" Nat complained, taking a drink, "My partner sucks."
"Hey, I resent that!" Clint protested, putting his arms up in defense, "Being a dad happens to make me a Disney expert...I'd be getting all of these right if the screen would just stop moving." Nat rolled her eyes.
"Sorry, my partner's drunk," she corrected.
A quick glance at the board could confirm that the pair had been under-performing by a wide margin. Their game piece sat stagnant at the beginning of the board while the other two pieces were practically neck in neck.
"This isn't fair!" Peter slurred, pointing a finger at Steve as he moved his piece, "You were, like, alive when that movie first came out in theaters! Of course you know that one!" Steve shook his head and laughed, pointing back at Peter.
"I was frozen in ICE when that movie came out and I STILL got the answer before you!"
"Oh, shit," Peter laughed back, taking another drink, "I totally forgot 'bout that for a second! That's crazy...and...Oh shit, I didn' mean to say 'shit,' I...Oh, man." The kid seemed to get lost in thought momentarily, but shook it off when Bruce patted him on the back.
"It's alright, Peter, you've gotten the last dozen or so all-plays right," he said, also taking a drink. "Steve and Tony need this point more than we do." Tony laughed.
"Oh, I see, so this is a pity point, huh?" He said, picking up the dice, "Well I'll gladly take it considering we're about 3 spaces from pulling ahead of both of you!" He rolled the dice and got an all-play for 4 spaces. Steve whooped and Clint selected the right option from the menu. Just as the question appeared, Peter stood up on wobbly legs.
"You can play for us, I gotta go to the bathroom quick," Peter mumbled, setting his drink down. Bruce nodded and kept his eyes focused on the screen. Even without alcohol, Tony had all of his attention on the game; if he could beat Peter at Disney trivia, there was no way he'd let the kid hear the end of it.
The puzzle that popped up next was a Spellbinder, and being the only sober one in the party, Tony had the obvious advantage.
"Let's see...'m'...'n'....'b'....." Bruce squinted his eyes at the screen, trying to get his scrambled thoughts together.
"Chip 'n Dale!" Clint cried out, jumping up onto his knees. Nat smacked him and rolled her eyes.
"There's no 'm' in Chip and Dale, Clint, sit down. It's not Chip and Dale."
As Clint sat back down, Tony clapped his hands together.
"Timon and Pumbaa!" He exclaimed. Once again, Steve cheered and the rest of the players took drinks.
"How'd you get that so fast?" Bruce complained, "There's only three letters up there!"
"Guess I'm just smarter than you, doc," Tony shrugged, his tone obviously sarcastic and light given that he was talking to a drunk man who could easily...'Hulk Out' if pushed too far. "And y'know...I've had a few less margaritas."
"I'm also down a teenage partner who actually watches this stuff," Bruce pointed out, taking another drink.
Tony frowned, noting that the absence of said teenage partner had persisted a little too long for someone who was 'just going to the bathroom quick.' It made him a little concerned.
"Speaking of the boy wonder, I'll go check on him," Tony said, voicing his thoughts, "He's probably giving his reflection a pep talk in there."
"Nah, I'll go get 'm," Bruce said, beating Tony to his feet, "He's my partner, anyways. Wouldn't wanna go another round without him."
"Why? Scared you'll lose?" Steve laughed.
"Nope. Positive I will," Bruce chuckled back, crossing the room.
Before Tony could protest, Bruce was already making his way to the bathroom to check on Peter, bringing the game to a halt. Steve resigned to laying back against a chair, humming along with the game's music, and Clint and Natasha had begun to argue over who was the worse player of the two of them.
"Me?!" Nat was saying, "You're the one who keeps shouting wrong answers before I even get the chance to think!"
"Well at least I'm answering!" Clint responded. "You can't win the game if you take 20 years to think about each question!"
Tony sat back and smiled to himself, listening to the two of them bicker.
Within a few minutes, Bruce stumbled his way back to the room, sans one Peter Parker.
"Hey, Tony?" He called from the doorway to the living room, gesturing to the billionaire with a serious look on his face. Tony was up in an instant, his stomach churning at what he guessed Bruce was about to tell him.
"Is he in there...puking?" He asked in a hushed voice.
"Well...he's on the bathroom floor," Bruce responded, running a hand through his peppery hair. "I checked the kid's pulse and it's fine, it's just...I think he's just fallen asleep in there. I'd help him, but I'm afraid I've had a few too many myself."
"Shit.." Tony replied, rubbing a hand over his mouth. "That's alright, I'll take care of this." Bruce nodded and walked into the kitchen.
"I'll start sobering up," he said, filling a glass with water. "I wanna be able to help if I can." Tony smiled a bit and nodded, jogging off down the hall to the nearest bathroom.
When he got there, Tony opened the door a crack and looked inside to where the boy was laying motionless on his stomach. He slid himself the rest of the way in and shut the door, kneeling down beside the teen.
"How ya doin', kid?" He asked, gently rubbing Peter's back. The boy only moaned in response and didn't open his eyes.
"Had a bit too much to drink, huh?" Peter only nodded, his breathing coming out rapidly. "Well, what do you say we move you to a bed, Peter? You don't wanna spend the night on the floor."
But Peter adamantly shook his head. "Nuh-uh," he mumbled.
"Nuh-uh?" Tony asked. "Why 'nuh-uh?'" Peter shrugged.
"Cuz m' gonna throw up if I move," he slurred, his voice coming out funny from his face being pressed against the floor. Tony sighed.
"Well, fortunately you're about a foot away from a toilet that can take a pretty hefty amount of vomit if you think you've gotta hurl."
Peter groaned again and moved his hand to pat the base of the porcelain bowl.
"Yep, that's right, pal, the toilet is right there if you need it," Tony said. Peter nodded, still not opening his eyes. Tony furrowed his eyebrows and looked harder at the kid. "Alright Pete, we really need to get you to sit up, at least," he moved his arms under the boy and tried to get him into an upright position.
"No!" Peter cried out in protest, struggling to stay laying on the ground. "Please M'ser Stark, jus' give me a minute! PLEASE!" The kid's voice broke and he began to whimper quietly, tears streaming from his eyes. Tony listened and set the boy back down, resuming rubbing his back instead.
"Okay, okay, kid. It's okay," he cooed, trying to calm Peter down. "Just breathe, okay? I can give you a couple of minutes to get your shit together if you need it."
Peter nodded, still breathing shakily as tears dripped sideways onto the tiled floor. As Tony continued to rub his back, the door opened a little, and Bruce's hand appeared, setting a glass of water on the counter before snaking it back out. He put his face up to the crack to look at Tony, and gave him a questioning thumbs up. Tony winced a little and shook his hand back and forth in a 'so-so' kind of motion. Bruce winced too and mouthed 'I'll be back' before closing the door behind him. Tony refocused his attention on Peter.
"Alright, Pete, you ready to try again?"
Peter shook his head again, the whimper returning.
"Well, sorry Peter, we've got to get you up. I can't leave you in here." Peter's face scrunched up and he began to cry. "On the count of three," Tony braced his arms on the kid's shoulders.
"Noooo..." Peter moaned, still shaking his head, "Jus' another minute, M'ser Stark, noooo..."
"One..." Tony started, doing his best to ignore Peter in the interest of getting the kid off the floor.
"Noo, jus' lemme sleep on the ground, M'ser Stark, I'll be okay!" Peter continued, but Tony knew he had to be the bad guy for once.
"Nope. Two...Three!" In one swift motion, Tony got Peter upright and allowed him to crash backwards into his chest. Peter laid there, motionless for a moment, but then suddenly lurched forward, draping his arms around the toilet seat and letting his head dangle over the bowl.
" 'M gonna puke," he said, panic suddenly evident in his voice. The kid started breathing deeply. Tony leaned forward and continued to rub his back.
"That's alright, Pete," he said softly, trying to quell the boy's nerves. "Let it out, kid. It'll only make you feel better." Peter groaned.
"I don' wanna puke, M'ser Stark. Ohhhh I really don' wanna puke." Peter remained in his position over the toilet, but Tony could tell the kid was doing all he could to hold back.
"It's gonna be fine, Pete," Tony said evenly. "Trust me. I've been right where you are plenty of times, myself, and I'm still here to tell the-" Tony found his words cut off by the sound of Peter retching, and he was on his knees in an instant, supporting the kid from behind. The sounds coming from Peter were almost painful to listen to: the kid was switching between choking on sobs and choking on vomit, and Tony felt helpless as he sat behind him.
"I f- I fucked u-up, M'ser Stark," Peter sobbed between gags. "I'll never...drink al-alcohol...again,"
"You're all right, Peter," Tony said soothingly "Trust me, this isn't the end of the world...and I'm sure you'll feel differently when you get to college." Peter shook his head as Tony chuckled a little.
"Nuh uh. Never."
When it seemed there was finally a break, Tony reached up and flushed the toilet. Peter still leaned over it, head resting on his arms.
"You ready to go lay down now, kiddo?" Tony asked. Peter nodded and let himself slump off the toilet and back towards the floor.
"Woah! Nope! No," Tony yelled out in surprise, catching the kid before he could hit the ground. "I meant in your bed, Pete."
Peter seemed to consider this but shook his head.
"Lemme sleep here," he slurred, patting a hand against the tiled floor.
"Yeah, sorry, not gonna happen," Tony said, nearly rolling his eyes.
"Please?" Peter begged, leaning back into his mentor. "I'll be fine 'ntil morning,"
"Peter, I'm not letting you sleep on the bathroom floor. You're drunk."
Peter's eyes suddenly opened and he swung his torso away from his mentor so that he instead leaned up against the base of the sink.
"No, look! I'm good! I c'n sleep here!" Peter smiled for a second and raised his eyebrows as if to convince his mentor that he was fine before instantly regretting his decision to move so quickly. Once again, he scrambled to get over the toilet as his stomach expelled more alcohol from it. Tony let out a sigh and moved to rub the kid's back again, just as Bruce reappeared at the door, wincing at the sight of Peter gagging over the toilet.
The doctor squeezed his way in through the cracked door and set two small pills on the counter.
"How ya doin, Pete?" Bruce asked, closing the door behind him. Still heaving, Peter gave him a thumbs-up.
"Have you gotten him to drink any water?" The scientist asked, eyeing the still-full glass he'd placed on the counter earlier. "I brought some painkillers if he can keep 'em down." Tony shook his head.
"Nosirree," he replied, still rubbing Peter's back as the gagging slowly ceased. "He already hurled twice, all on his own...I don't think putting anything in is going to be overly helpful right now. We should get some fluids in him, but I don't know about the meds..." Suddenly, Peter brought his head up, away from the bowl.
"I c'n do it," he said, slouching back against Tony once again. "I c'n put 'em waaaaay on the back of my tongue and swallow. Jus' like May showed me when I was little."
Bruce raised an eyebrow as Tony huffed out a disbelieving laugh.
"How about you try a little bit of water first," Bruce said gently, crouching down beside Peter and Tony with the glass. "And if it stays down, then you can have the painkillers."
Peter nodded, his head rolling as he slumped back against Tony.
This time, it was Tony who raised an eyebrow.
"Sobering up?" He asked, impressed by how not-drunk his fellow scientist seemed. Bruce shrugged.
"Yeah, little bit. I think my 7 PHDs are taking over."
Tony chuckled a little as Bruce grabbed the water glass.
"Alright. Let's get him sitting up a little more," Bruce prompted, signaling for Tony to move Peter into a more upright position. Once he was sitting, Bruce brought the glass up to the kid's lips, and upon taking a small sip, Peter instantly furrowed his brow and made a face.
"Tha' tastes like sawdust," he said, crinkling up his nose.
"It's water, kid," Tony returned, watching as Bruce brought the cup back up to Peter's mouth.
"Doesn' taste like water..." Peter mumbled, drinking more from the glass.
Bruce had no sooner pulled the glass away when Peter once again lurched forward, breathing heavily over the toilet.
"I'm gonna- I'm gonna pu-" Peter got half the word out before the water reappeared and sloshed into the toilet. As he knelt there, coughing and spitting, Bruce met Tony's gaze.
"So it looks like the painkillers are a no-go, then," he sighed, setting the water back on the counter. Tony ran his fingers through his messy hair with one hand, his other occupied with the ongoing task of rubbing the kid's back.
"I honestly think our best bet is getting him into a bed," Tony said, the sound of Peter's vomiting underlining his words. "But I have a feeling he's not gonna be too happy about that plan."
Bruce grimaced as Peter retched loudly into the toilet.
"I'll grab a bucket for the trip upstairs," he said, standing up. "Just in case."
"You're a genius," Tony said, snapping his fingers and pointing to his friend.
"7 PHDs" Bruce shot back with a smirk, heading out the door.
Alone with his intern once more, Tony reached up and flushed the toilet.
"We're gonna move you upstairs once Bruce is back. Get you all tucked in, cozy, and...laying on your side. Sound good, Underoos?"
Peter let out a groan, still slumped over the porcelain bowl.
"I can't move, M'ser Stark. 'M gonna puke if I move. I don' wanna puke again, M'ser Stark."
"It's a little late for that, Kid," Tony laughed, rubbing Peter's back again. "And if you puke again, you puke again, alright? Banner's on bucket duty, so we got you covered."
"But M'ser Stark..." Peter mumbled into the toilet, sounding like he was drifting off.
"Nope. No buts, kid. What kind of mentor would I be if I let you sleep with your head in a toilet?"
"A normal one?" Peter asked, head still in the bowl.
"Peter, no," Tony said, trying not to laugh. "I would not, you doofus."
"Uh huh," came the echo-y reply.
"Nuh uh," Tony countered.
"Uh huh," peter said more urgently.
"I'm not...I'm not gonna argue this one with you, kiddo," Tony chuckled.
"So 'm right then?" Peter returned, bringing his head up and resting his cheek on the toilet seat.
"Sure, you're right. Happy?"
"Mmhmm," Peter hummed affirmatively before frowning. "Wha' was I right about again?"
Tony let out a sigh and moved the kid's hair off of his sweaty forehead affectionately.
"About me being the coolest person you know," he replied.
"No, that wasn't it..." Peter said, a genuine smile playing at his lips for the first time in a while. As Tony laughed, Bruce slipped back into the bathroom, ice cream pail in hand.
"Ready to roll out?" He asked Tony, eyeing the kid who now laid with his head on the seat.
"Yep," Tony replied, already positioning himself to help Peter up. "All right, kid. We've gotta move you to your room, now. Okay?"
Peter groaned and moved his face back over the toilet bowl opening.
"Nooo M'ser Stark, I'll be fine here," he moaned.
"Nope. Peter, we already discussed this. You staying on this floor is not an option," Tony said quickly as Bruce readied himself on the other side of Peter. "Dr. Banner and I are gonna help you up to your room in just a second here, and once you're there, I promise we won't move you for the rest of the night. But I need you to work with us for a second here, kid. Can you do that for me?" Peter was silent for a few seconds.
"You promise you won' move me?" He whimpered.
"I promise," Tony replied, nodding to Bruce. "Alright, we're doing this on another count of three. Ready?" Peter nodded after a beat. "One. Two. Three!" He and Bruce pulled Peter to his feet and each laced an arm behind the boy's back. With his free hand, Bruce held the bucket in front of Peter, and they began to make their way over to the elevator, Peter leaning one way and then the other the whole time, his eyes squeezed shut.
They successfully made it to the elevator and were on their way up when without warning, Peter leaned forward with a retch. Bruce immediately brought the bucket up to Peter's mouth as he heaved, bringing up mostly spit and bile at this point, and followed him to the floor when the boy sunk to his knees.
"Hey! Woah!" Tony yelled on the way down. "Kid, I know you're not feeling good, but we need to keep you on your feet, okay?" He shot Bruce a serious look. "I'm not sure we'll get him back up if he stays down too long," he whispered loudly.
Peter shook his head no and groaned, breathing heavily over the bucket before belching and bringing up just a little more bile.
"Come on, kid...what would Spider Man do?" Bruce chimed in, moving the hand that was on Peter's back in a circle in an attempt to comfort him.
"Spi'er Man?" Peter said, a string of vomit hanging from his mouth as he brought his head up.
"Yeah, I mean I really wish Spider Man were here to help us get Peter to his bed," Bruce said, looking Peter in the eyes.
"I'm Spider Man," Peter said, a sudden determination in his voice. "I'm Spider Man. That's me."
Peter raised one arm up and suddenly a web shot up to the ceiling of the elevator. Both Tony and Bruce shouted out and jumped back in surprise as the kid grabbed hold of his web and pulled himself to his feet and stumbled forward and out the open elevator doors. Bruce held tight to the bucket as he and Tony rushed forward to support him from either side. The kid was still teetering a lot and leaning up against the two older men, but now they were walking down the hall at a much faster pace.
"I did it!" Peter exclaimed as he stumbled down the hall, eyes shut once more. Tony looked over to Bruce with a thumbs-up and adjusted his grip on the boy as they entered his room and flicked on the lights. Peter had begun to breathe heavily again by the time they got him into the bed, and Bruce got the bucket up to his mouth just in time for him to retch once more.
When he was done, Tony dismissed Bruce to go join the others and replaced the bucket with a garbage can that he left on the floor next to the bed, making sure the kid was laying on his side before he walked over to the light switch. Mumbling for FRIDAY keep an eye on Peter while he checked in with the others, he began to close the door. Just as he was about to head back to the living room, he heard Peter's voice.
"M'ser Stark?" Peter called out sleepily, causing him to peek his head back into the room.
"Yeah, kid?"
"...Thanks for making me 'n avenger. I love you guys."
Tony smiled.
"We love you too, kiddo."