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“You alright there? You look beat.” Clint asked as Peter walked into the briefing room.
Peter felt himself blush when he realised everyone else was already there. He’d totally forgotten about the meeting for their upcoming mission, having come home from school and going straight to bed. He’d even bypassed valuable lab time, which he’d explained away to Tony as needing to do homework; but really he’d been trying to sleep away the pain in his head that had started earlier that afternoon, in the hopes that he could catch it in time.
“Yeah sorry I was taking a nap.” He chuckled sheepishly as he ventured further into the room to take his seat next to his mentor.
“Sorry for disturbing you.” Tony said in his signature stoic sarcastic tone; but Peter knew him well enough by now not to be bothered by it, he knew he was joking, hence why he poked his tongue out at him before turning his attention to the centre of the room, where Nick was ready to deliver their brief.
The room was a large conference hall on the upper floors of Stark Tower, usually used for Tony’s business meetings; though now it had been adapted to suit the ambience befitting of a top secret government meeting. The large glass windows overlooking New York had been tinted electronically, blackened so the room was much darker than usual. The lights overhead were changed from their usual warm hue to bright, startling white fluorescent lights that bounced off the windows, the polished floor and the glass table top; the refractions seeming to target Peters eyes directly and he winced.
He knew he was getting a migraine from the minute he’d woken up that morning. Though his head hadn’t hurt then, it had a familiar lightness to it, almost weightless like his head had been filled with cotton wool. Then throughout the day, with all the noise and sights and smells of a public high school, his head had gotten progressively heavier, until he felt like he was trying to balance a bowling ball on his shoulders; and then there was the pain. The deep searing throb that started off by settling above his right eye before it spread, like hot lead seeping across his face, down his jaw and neck, spreading as far as his shoulders making him tense up.
By the time he got to third period his vision was blurred, his speech was slurring and the white hot pain blaring behind his eyes was enough to make him feel nauseous. Luckily that was when he met up with MJ, who upon seeing him threatened to take him to the nurse’s office if he didn’t take some of his painkillers. The lesser of two evils he opted with the latter, albeit reluctantly. His pain meds worked to take the edge off, numbing the pain to at least a tolerable level so he was able to complete the school day; though it did nothing for his speech and drowsiness. He hated taking his medicine at school because of how tired they made him, hence after a horrendous commute home he promptly crashed out on his bed, still in his school clothes.
JARVIS, with the best intentions in the world (if AI had intentions that is, thought if Tony had anything to do with them Peter was pretty sure the computer always has his best intentions at heart...heart? nevermind-) had decided not to wake him until the very last minute. Literally, the very last minute. Five minutes before the meeting was about to commence he was woken up by the computer gently reminding him, only for his phone to ring right after, blaring in his ear after Nat had rang to ask him where the fuck he was.
Not the most peaceful way to wake up. Especially as his pain meds were starting to wear off.
The pain wasn’t quite so bad now but the lights, god the lights. They were impossibly bright, every time Peter blinked he had white blurs cast against the inside of his eyelids, that transformed into dark blank spots when he opened his eyes again. As the meeting progressed those dark spots in his vision started to contort and spin, until the room looked like it was covered in confetti made of iridescent glass. The fuzzy rainbows followed him no matter where he looked, darting around the room and causing the nausea he was feeling earlier to come back at full force. He knew what the ocular distortions were, so they didn’t frighten him; it was an aura saying ‘take some medicine and lay down before you have a bad time,’ but unfortunately, he wasn’t in the position to listen to it’s warning.
So it was safe to say he felt like shit. But there wasn’t much he could do about that now, other than sit and try to listen to what Nick was saying. He severely doubted he’d be able to retain any of the information, but at least it would work as a distraction from the pain for a while.
The only issue was Nick was pacing back and forth in front of the holographic screen he was referencing; and waving his arms around as he spoke. The additional movements were enough to make Peter’s stomach turn again and for a brief moment he shut his eyes, trying to breathe deeply and quell his stomach from protesting further.
But that turned out to be a mistake. He must have rested his eyes for longer than he thought because when he opened them he noticed several people glancing at him; and Nat who was openly smirking. “Wake up, Poodle, I know it’s almost your bedtime but come on.”
He went to roll his eyes at her out of reflex but caught himself when his stomach lurched. Having been caught out almost dozing off he sat up straight, more determined than ever to make a concerted effort to appear normal.
He noticed his mentor glancing at him a few times as well, but thankfully the man was up to speak next about some upcoming battle plan. As he addressed the group Peter was sure his eyes lingered on him more than anyone else; but he tried to be discreet, behave normally, even as the fire in his brain began to spread again.
“We’ll probably set Parker up on rooftop surveillance over here in quadrant three, that way he can oversee the docks and the two main exits- what do you think kid, sound good to you?” Tony said as he dived out jobs to everyone. But when he looked to his ward for confirmation, the boy wasn’t paying attention. He was staring off into space with a vacant expression on his face “Kid?”
At first everyone chuckled slightly, being used to Peter daydreaming. Usually Peter snapped back into the room with an embarrassed giggle and tried to join back into whatever conversation he missed- only this time he didn’t. He continued staring off at the far corner of the room, not even a twitch of recognition on his face.
Tony sighed and took a step forward back to where the boy was seated. “Hey, earth to Peter- hello?”
Still nothing. Peter wasn’t even blinking. Tony felt his heart rate quicken slightly. When he stepped closer he realised the boy's face wasn’t just expressionless, it was completely slack, like someone had cut the strings to a puppet; and he was flushed ever so slightly paler than usual. He was sat rigid in his seat, hand still gripping his pencil tightly where he’d been making notes; and where Tony peered over his shoulder he noticed Peter's chicken scratch handwriting was even more untidy than usual. Instead of writing along the lines his notes were sloped going down the paper instead of across it.
Just when he was about to get seriously concerned Peter suddenly snapped back; his eyes blinking rapidly as he tried to focus on the objects around the room.
To him, Tony had just suddenly teleported beside him. One moment he’d been standing at the front of the room and the next, without him so much as blinking, his mentor was standing next to him with his hand on his shoulder. When he glanced at the rest of the room all of his teammates were looking at him with a mixture of concern and amusement- but he quickly realised what had happened, and tried to shake it off.
“Huh?” He croaked. His tongue felt unnaturally big for his mouth and his throat was dry. He wasn’t even trying to say anything particularly articulate but it seemed his brain couldn’t coordinate his thoughts to his mouth. He barely had the wherewithal to turn his gaze to Tony.
But the man‘s gaze was certainly fixed on him; his warm dark eyes studying him. “Are you alright?”
Peter swallowed, making an effort to sit up slightly. He tried to smile but only one side of his face decided to work, so it ended up as more of a smirk. “Yeah sorry, I was listening.”
Tony's brows furrowed. “What did I just say?”
“‘Are you alright?’” Peter chuckled, noting that a few of the other occupants snickered too.
The sarcasm was enough proof to Tony that the kid was okay; at least okay enough not to worry about right now. He squinted at him and let go of his shoulder, rolling his eyes as he took his place at the front of the room again. Though he didn’t make a note to keep an eye on the boy for the rest of the meeting. “Okay smartass, focus. Can’t have you spacing out when we’re doing this thing.”
“Right, sorry.” Peter nodded, ducking his shoulders a little at being chastised.
He kept his eyes front and centre for the remainder of Tony’s turn, if only so he’d at least be facing the right way if it happened again. It was so difficult to keep his eyes open. The pain and heaviness from earlier had set in full force again, only now he was starting to feel a heaviness settle in his stomach too. He could feel the water he’d been sipping throughout the meeting in an attempt to soothe his dry mouth, sloshing and churning in his stomach; occasionally making the organ squeeze and convulse. Every so often he felt the still comparatively cool liquid rise in the back of his throat, wanting to make a reappearance, but he swallowed it down.
Once Tony was finished with his proposal, Nat took the floor to discuss their ammunition’s quota. On his way back to his seat Tony really took the time to take in the kid’s appearance. He looked off, that much was clear, but the man couldn’t tell what it was.
“Have you taken your Adderall today?” He asked as he sat down. Off his ADHD meds Peter had two moods; hyper or robotic, and today he seemed to be mirroring the latter. Only the boy nodded in response to his question. “Why’re you so spacey?”
Peter shifted uncomfortably. He knew he should be open with his mentor, but he didn’t want to make a fuss. If he admitted now that he didn’t feel well Tony would feel obligated to escort him back downstairs and that would only interrupt everyone. Besides, the man was a crucial part of this mission, he couldn’t skip out all because Peter didn’t feel good. Instead he just shrugged. “It’s not that kind of spacey.”
“Then what other kind of spacey are you?” Tony asked confusedly. What other kind of spacey was there? Then it occurred to him that it may be a PTSD thing, some kind of flashback; was something about this particular mission triggering him? Tony had double checked that they weren’t near any bodies of water and the boy wasn’t going to be put in any confined spaces, he’d tried to account for that. Then again he hadn’t seen Peter all day since he didn’t come down to the lab that afternoon, had something happened at school?
Peter could see Tony was catching on to him, he could practically hear the anxious thoughts running around his head. But before he could explain or come up with a plausible excuse, he felt his throat clech again, this time far more insistently. He swallowed, trying to force the bile back down but all that succeeded in doing was bringing another wave of nausea, this one much stronger than the last. He couldn’t stay in that room, not if he wanted to avoid repainting the chairs.
“I’ll be right back.” Peter said tightly, rising from his chair which made his head spin even more. He took the time to tuck his chair back under the table, using the spare second to control his breathing long enough to keep himself from passing out. Tony looked at him questioningly, obviously even more concerned but Peter bit his tongue. “Bathroom.”
Tony nodded and he quickly darted off, slipping silently from the conference room and out into the hallway. Once he was out there he took a moment to lean against the wall, closing his eyes as he attempted to regain his balance; and some semblance of control over his stomach. When he reopened his eyes he noted the black spot in the centre of his left eye was steadily getting bigger. The field of vision he did have outside of the smudge was swirled and indistinct. He couldn’t make any shapes out and the lighting, though it was slightly better than the boardroom, wasn’t helping either. Following his instincts Peter closed his left eye, focusing his energy on his right as he slowly made his way down the hallway.
Once in the bathroom, thanking his lucky stars it was empty and he hadn’t run into any employees, he shuffled over to the sink. He splashed some cold water on his face, trying to soothe the internal heat he was feeling in his head, but of course it didn’t work. It was soothing on his skin, though the sensation only highlighted the tingling numbness that was starting to befall his right side again.
His thoughts were just as cloudy as his vision, as he stood there trying to catch his bearings. Logically he knew he should just go back downstairs, crawl into his bed with a bucket and some pain meds and give JARVIS a message for Tony- but he couldn't. Part of him didn’t want to get in trouble for just disappearing and he was trying desperately to convince himself that he’d be okay for the mission. He hadn’t actually puked yet, and though he knew he was nearing the point of no return, maybe if he took some meds and had another nap in the car on the way to the mission he’d be okay…? Right..? Maybe.?
He took another minute to compose himself, leaning over the bathroom sink and trying to make normal expressions in the mirror. Once he felt he was emulating semi-normal behaviour, he grabbed some more water from the machine in the hallway, and took his perch leaning against the wall again. He closed his eyes for a moment longer as he sipped the water, but when he went to throw the empty cup in the trash he suddenly got dizzy. Really dizzy. Like, ‘I’m gonna pass out’ dizzy.
His blood rushed in his ears, making a deafening whooshing sound like a steam engine roar; and the corners of his vision darkened even more. His legs grew heavy and weak, shaking beneath him, and it took all of his willpower not to just crumple to the floor grip his head and cry like a baby. As he continued stumbling down the hallway back towards the meeting, he became aware that it wasn’t a good idea, he couldn’t go in there like that. So he leant against the wall by the door and waited for the dizzy spell to pass. Taking a deep breath and closing his eyes helped a lot. Maybe a little too much. Because once again, when he reopened his eyes his surroundings had changed.
At least the people surrounding him had.
When he came to he opened his eyes to see Pepper standing there, still in her work clothes, studying him worriedly. “Honey what’s wrong?”
Peter could tell just from her voice she’d been trying to talk to him for a while but he hadn’t answered; much like Tony had earlier. “Oh- hi Pepper- Sorry I’m a little out of it today.”
“Sweetheart, you’re grey.” She said quietly. She’d just popped her head into the meeting to see if anyone needed anything and Tony had asked her if she’d seen Peter hanging round in the halls; as he’d been gone for a while and he wanted to make sure he was okay. Imagine her surprise when she left the room only to find him standing right by the door, frozen and unresponsive. She pressed the palm of the hand to his forehead lightly, still unknowingly causing an enormous amount of pain. “Are you not feeling well? You don’t feel warm.”
“I’m fine, honest, j-j-just didn’t sleep much last night.” Peter stammered as he tried to form words and surreptitiously recover from the new wave of nausea the woman had accidentally caused. He swallowed and tried to offer her a smile, but it far more resembled a grimace, as he side stepped towards the door. “I gotta go back in before Mr. Stark sends someone to find me.”
The woman frowned, and side stepped so that she was blocking the door. Clearly she was unconvinced by Peter's mediocre attempt at lying. “Peter are you sure you’re alright?”
Peter swallowed. She never called him by his name, so he knew she was seriously suspicious of him; which made it even harder to lie. “Yes ma’am.”
Pepper hesitated. It was clear she wanted to press the boy further, but she knew from Peter's nervous disposition and past experiences that it wasn’t a good idea to do so. Instead she smiled and gave him a quick, reassuring hug. “If you change your mind come and find me okay? I’ll get you home.”
“Thanks, Pepper.” Peter smiled, and this time it was genuine. He found himself enjoying the hug far more than he should have; but maybe it was just the fact that he wasn’t solely responsible for supporting his own weight. Either way he had to go back into the meeting so as not to arouse any further suspicion, so he took a deep breath and slipped back through the door.
Back into the painfully bright room where Steve had taken the floor. The room was deadly silent too; it had been quiet before but whereas they were able to mutter to one another whilst still maintaining focus, whatever Steve was talking about demanded everyone’s full attention. You could’ve heard a pin drop. Or a Peter tripping on his way back to his chair.
As he sat back down Peter made sure not to look at Tony or anyone else; he didn’t want to give them the opportunity to ask if he was okay- because to be honest he wasn’t. And should he have to lie to someone else about his condition he knew he would crack under the pressure.
Pressure.
God the pressure behind his eyes was excruciating now. There was nothing he could do to alleviate the invisible vice that was slowly tightening, crushing his head, making his eyes want to pop out of his skull. It was maddening, and so were the lights, and so was this meeting that was taking forever.
By the time it adjourned, Peter was absolutely miserable. He had his head leant against his arm on the desk and for a moment once everyone else started moving he was sure he couldn’t get up. His neck was too stiff, his shoulders ached from being so tense and his legs still felt wobbly and uncoordinated.
But still he managed to drag himself up, still adamantly ignoring both his mentor and his stomach as both tried to grab his attention.
They all stood around waiting for Nick to give them further direction, huddled in a circle by the door when Peter felt it. A familiar gush of water sliding over his tongue. He wasn’t just nauseated anymore. Sipping water wasn’t going to fix this.
Just as Peter started to dart across the room Tony grabbed his arm; having seen his mentee flush pale yet again and he was sick of the kid avoiding him. “What’s wrong?”
‘Not now.’ Peter thought desperately as he shook the man’s hand off of his arm. He kept his jaw clenched tight, making sure not to part his lips too much as he continued walking towards the door. “Bathroom.”
Tony's brows furrowed even further as he looked the boy up and down. “You just went?”
“I know but I’m-“ Peter was cut off by a low growl in the back of his throat, that he knew was audible to Tony too as the man’s eyes widened. “I’m not feeling so good.”
“Are you gonna get sick?”
“I don’t know, I’m-“ Before he got a chance to answer, his stomach decided to answer for him. He gagged, only this time it wasn’t a small amount of liquid; a mouthful of bile gushed into his mouth, dribbling down his chin before he had the chance to catch it and he promptly clamped a hand over his face and ran. Well, ran as best he could, out of the door, having to shove Thor out of the way when the blond didn’t move quickly enough.
Somehow despite his lack of vision and coordination Peter made it into the stall and fell to his knees in front of the toilet just as his stomach exploded. Admittedly it wasn't a lot of vomit, after all it was a migraine not legitimate sickness. His body wasn’t trying to purge him of some irritant it’s just trying to alleviate the vertigo and nausea somehow. He also had yet to eat that afternoon which no doubt hadn’t helped his migraine, but it was making the process of evacuating his stomach much more tolerable.
Not even thirty seconds after he began retching he heard the bathroom door slam open. “Kid?”
“In here.” He groaned out between gags, leading Tony to the right stall.
“Unlock the door.” Tony said lowly, leaving no room for argument and thankfully Peter did as he was told; opening the door to reveal a small hunched figure who looked the picture of misery. “Oh Jesus, Petey.”
Finally Peter broke. The cat was out of the bag now, his worst fears had been realised. Not only had he embarrassed himself in front of everyone with his dramatic exit but he’d managed to make a mess and now Tony was stuck having to deal with him again. All while they were meant to be getting ready for a mission. He sniffled wetly as he spat another mouthful of thick, slimy water into the bowl. “I-I-I’m sorry, I tried to hold it in-“
“Well that was fucking dumb wasn’t it. Why didn’t you say anything?” Tony said angrily, though his actions showed otherwise. He knelt down on the floor beside him and started to rub his back, but not before he slipped off his jacket and draped it over the boy's shoulders.
“‘Cause I-“ Peter tried to respond but his stomach wouldn’t let him. He was cut off by another painful retch and the resounding pounding in his head the motion caused. He laid his head on his forearms and groaned, no longer caring about how he looked or how he’d inconvenienced anyone. Hell he didn’t care if he had a full studio audience at this point, he just wanted the pain to stop. “Ugh.”
Tony winced sympathetically. “Easy, easy. We’ll talk in a sec- just nod, have you got a temperature?”
Peter took a deep breath and sat up slightly, spitting and swallowing again before he answered, very clearly despite his condition. “I’m not sick.”
“Yeah fucking right you’re not sick.” Tony rolled his eyes, scoffing at the boy.
“I’m no-urghk- t-“ Peter groaned through another substantial wave of vomit. “Migraine.”
“Oh.” Everything clicked. The sleeping as soon as he got home, the disheveled appearance, the lack of focus and now this. “Oh kid, that’s why you were napping?”
Peter nodded miserably. “Was hoping it would go away but I didn’t catch it in time.”
Tony sighed. He should have known. And Peter should have known better than to try and stave it off, but he could tell the boy off for his stupidity later. Right now he needed to get his kid cleaned up and somewhere comfortable, somewhere that wasn’t huddled on the bathroom floor. “It’s alright bud, we’ll get you home.”
While Tony was rubbing the boy’s back as he emptied the last of his stomach's contents, the door swung open again. Steve poked his head around the door. “Is everything o- oh dear.”
“Get out before you puke too.” Tony said quickly, watching the colour drain from Steve’s face. Great, that was the last thing they needed, Sicky-Steve making an appearance too. Thankfully the blond sped from the room before he ended up in another stall.
“Sorry Steve!” Peter called weakly.
“I should be the one apologising.” Tony tutted quietly as he brushed Peter’s curls back.
“To Steve?” Peter asked as he sat up. He slumped himself against the toilet, legs sprawled out in front of him- taking the cup of water the man was holding out to him.
“No you dumbfuck, to you.”
Peter shrugged, ignoring the insult. He didn’t have the energy to fireback with another quip, he was too busy trying to determine whether there really was an invisible demon repeatedly stabbing him in the head or if he really did just need some of his super drugs. “You didn’t know.”
“I should’ve, I know you by now.” Tony said with yet another sigh, his voice laced with guilt. “Is that why you were spacing?”
Peter nodded, taking another sip of water to swish his mouth out. Right before spitting he gargled; “Absence seizures.”
“Come again.” Tony said in a flat, serious voice; his tone suddenly going cold.
Peter didn’t pick up on the man’s mood switch though. Instead he mistook his mentor for being unfamiliar with the term. “They're when someone just kinda switches off for a second and their brain resets-“
Tony cut off his mediocre explanation. “I know what they are, kid, you’re telling me you have seizures?”
“Yeah but they’re not like, bad ones, not like May’s.” Peter mumbled. As much as he wanted to have a conversation about his medical history, he was finding it increasingly difficult to keep his eyes open, let alone keep himself upright.
“Peter I don’t care whether they’re tonic-clonic or vacant or partial or whatever the fuck- it doesn’t matter, why didn’t I know about this?” Tony said, his voice getting louder as he got more angry.
“Bruce does. S’on my file.” Peter hiccuped as he succumbed to his eyes demands to close. He didn’t have the capacity to explain but he tried his best. “Only have them when I- when I have a migraine. I don’t have ‘em all the time, it’s not gonna affect me in the field Mis’er Stark, don’t worry.”
Tony let out a small noise of frustration before he lent forward and held Peter’s face in his hands; being mindful not to jostle him too much but he needed to make sure the boy was hearing him. “Look at me. I don’t care about Spidey stuff right now, I care about you, capice?”
He felt fucking awful that he didn’t know. Even if the seizures weren’t particularly dangerous, at least in Peter’s case he still felt like a terrible mentor for not knowing such an important piece of the boy’s personal history. He’d studied the boy's medical file ages ago, cover to cover, when they were looking at his mutation; he was sure he’d remember seeing something like that. Hell he had every broken bone and vaccination saved to memory, and trust him there was a lot to remember with Peter, he should have known.
And why the fuck didn’t he.
But that could wait. Right now he needed to get the kid to bed. Now that his stomach had stopped convulsing the boy had practically fallen asleep where he sat, still huddled next to the toilet bowl. Tony didn’t bother trying to get any more conversation out of him, nor did he expect the child to aid him in the process. He easily hoisted Peter on to his feet and took the rest from there, practically carrying him. “Let’s get you home, Underoos.”
When he walked the boy down the hall towards the elevator, the rest of the team were still congregated; clearly waiting to see what the situation was.
“Is he alright?” Bruce asked, stepping forward to see if his medical expertise were needed.
“Migraine.” Tony said quietly, readjusting the boy on his shoulder when he groaned.
“Ah.” Bruce nodded understandingly. “I’ve got some of his strong pain meds in my case if you need them?”
“No I think he said he’s already taken some. We’ll see if he can keep anything down when we get home, right bud?” Tony said gently; to which Peter made a little groan of acknowledgement.
They stood by the elevator, Bruce quickly taking Peter’s other side to help Tony get him to bed safely. “That explains why he spaced out then.”
Tony felt his face twitch. “So you did know about that?”
“Of course I do, I was the one who diagnosed him.” Bruce said lightly as the elevator pinged and the doors opened for the trio to step inside.
“You what?” Try as he might Tony couldn’t keep the growl out of his voice. He gritted his teeth, glancing down at Peter to make sure the boy wasn’t picking up on his anger; though to be honest he wasn’t even picking up his own head, so he needn’t worry.
Bruce shrugged, though he quickly started to explain himself once he saw the look Tony was giving him. “He mentioned how he loses blocks of time when he has migraines and that weekend he had one when we were in Denver, he spaced out for three minutes straight. It wasn’t hard to put two and two together. They’re nothing to worry about-“
“I know that but what I don’t know is why the fuck you didn’t tell me!” Tony whisper-yelled. Now safely in the confines of the elevator he didn’t have to be discreet but he was trying to control the volume of his voice for Peter’s sake.
Though Bruce could sense that his friend was getting increasingly angry, he failed to see why initially. “I put it on his file Tony.”
“What, so I’m just supposed to check it every five minutes just to make sure that the doctor who I live with hasn’t updated it?! You didn’t even mention it!” Tony snapped. He did not think he was being unreasonable by any stretch of the imagination.
“Because they’re not serious! It’s not like he’s suddenly started having major seizures, he literally only has them as an aura related to his migraines, that’s all-“
“I know what they fucking are!” Tony yelled, inadvertently making Peter whimper, which he was quick to soothed by brushing his fingers through the boy's hair.
“Then you know they’re not dangerous!”
“That’s not the point!”
“Then what is the point?!”
“I don’t- I don’t fucking know-“ Tony cut himself off with a huff. He didn’t want to say everything that was on his mind in that moment because not only was it rather personal he had bigger things to worry about. “That’s a lie I do but I can’t explain it!”
“Why not?!” Bruce asked incredulously.
“Because you don’t have kids Bruce! You don’t understand! Ask Clint how he’d feel if he suddenly found out one of his kids had some non-life threatening medical that he didn’t know about! I get that it’s not gonna kill him but it- it- It feels shitty!”
The admission certainly changed the tone of the conversation. It was no longer an argument. Hearing Tony openly admit not only that he considered Peter to be his sole responsibility but the emotions that came with the situation was jarring to say the least; and while Bruce didn’t fully understand it he could certainly appreciate the sentiment. “Tony I’m sorry-“
“Fuck you.” Tony snapped as he picked Peter up so Bruce no longer had to be involved in the process.
“Why are we fucking Bruce?” A voice came from the kitchen. Bucky had been standing at the breakfast bar eating a bowl of cereal in nothing but his underwear; clearly he thought the meeting would be going on for much longer.
“And fuck you too.” Tony spat angrily as he stormed off to put his Spider-Baby to bed.
“Kinky.” Bucky shrugged before shoving another heaped spoonful of lucky charms into his mouth. He turned to Bruce with a look of mild interest. “What was that about?”