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Peter is sitting on the couch in between Morgan and Tony, watching Lilo and Stitch 2 with half-interest. It’s hard to concentrate with the way his head has been throbbing for the past half-hour.
He brings a hand up to rub at his eyes, trying to appease growing ache behind them. Dropping his hand, he spares a glance at Tony, who doesn’t look like he’s faring any better, if the pinched expression on his face is anything to go off of.
“Do you want some more pain meds now? I think our four hours is up,” Peter offers.
Both he and Tony had gotten a little banged up during yesterday’s mission, raiding a HYDRA base with the team. Tony has a few broken ribs, whereas Peter ended up with a mild concussion, hence the pounding in his skull.
Tony looks over at him, lifting his wrist to check his watch. “That time already, huh? Sure, I’ll grab it,” he says as he moves to stand, then winces, holding his hand to his side.
“No, I’ll get it. You stay put,” Peter orders as he pushes himself up from the couch, pausing for a few seconds when a wave of dizziness washes over him. His head pounds from the sudden change in position.
“You okay?” Tony asks worriedly.
Peter winces as he lifts a hand to rub at his forehead. “I’m good...” he mumbles, shuffling over to the kitchen medicine cabinet.
As Morgan continues to watch the movie intently, Peter grabs the two orange pill bottles containing their pain medication—Peter’s super-metabolism ones, and Tony’s regular strength version—and pours one of each bottle into two Dixie cups. He grabs two bottles of water from the fridge before heading back to the living room and handing Tony one, but then pauses as he looks at the pills.
Bruce gave them strict instructions about their pain meds this morning when he stopped in to check-in on them. The light blue pills are Peter’s, and the red ones are Tony’s.
Easy enough.
Peter hands Tony the Dixie cup with the red pill, and he accepts it with a grateful smile. “Thanks, Pete.”
While Tony takes his pill, Peter resumes his position on the couch and throws his own medicine back with a few sips of water.
They settle down once again and continue watching the movie, but Peter’s head seems to kick the pain up a few notches after a few minutes, making his eyes sensitive to the glowing light of the TV screen. He drops his head back against the couch with a groan, throwing an arm over his eyes. He only hopes his pain meds kick in soon to prevent a full sensory overload.
“You doing okay over there, Pete?” Tony asks from the other end of the couch.
“Head still hurts,” Peter mumbles, not having the energy to say much else.
“FRIDAY, activate the Pacifier Protocol please,” Tony orders in a soft voice as he reaches a hand over, brushing it over the back of Peter’s head.
Peter lifts his arm and sees the blinds being automatically drawn, shielding them from the sunlight outside, as well as the TV’s brightness lowering a few notches to a level that’s a little more bearable for him.
“Thanks,” Peter says gratefully as he drops his arm.
Half of Tony’s face is shadowed from the glow of the TV, but Peter can still make out his soft smile. He motions for Peter to move closer to him, and Peter does, lying down with his head pillowed on his mentor’s lap. Tony’s hand finds its way into Peter’s curls, lightly rubbing his scalp like he always does whenever Peter’s headaches are particularly bad.
After a few minutes, Peter’s eyes begin to grow heavy, feeling sleep pulling at him. Hopefully his painkillers will have kicked in by the time he wakes up.
That’s the last thought Peter has before he’s out like a light.
…
Peter wakes to someone roughly shaking his shoulder. He groans as he opens his eyes, finding Morgan a few inches from his face. After a few confused seconds, the pain hits him, and he has to slam his eyes shut from the splitting headache.
“M’gn? What’s...What’s wrong?” Peter asks groggily as he slowly sits up, holding his head.
“Something’s wrong with Daddy.”
Peter frowns as he turns his head, now noticing the empty spot on the couch. He looks back to her, meeting her worried eyes. “What do you mean something’s wrong with him?”
“I think his tummy hurts,” Morgan says, holding her Iron Man teddy bear close to her chest. “I heard him throwing up when I went upstairs to get Henry.”
It takes Peter longer than he’d like to climb the stairs, gripping onto the railing for support as his vision swims dangerously, his head throbbing with each step.
It doesn’t even feel like his meds kicked in at all, which is strange because one pill has always done the trick for him in the past. It couldn’t have worn off already—he was only asleep for an hour.
Finally reaching Tony and Pepper’s room, he makes his way to the adjoining bathroom, only to find that the door is closed.
“Tony?” Peter asks as he raps lightly on the door. He waits in silence for a few seconds before knocking again. “Tony? Are you okay?”
There’s only silence on the other side, adding to Peter’s worry.
“I’m coming in, okay?” Peter says as he turns the knob.
Unfortunately, the door is locked. His only option now is to break it down, which will only add to Tony’s to-do list. But something’s wrong—Peter can feel it. His head is pounding so much that he can’t tell if his spider sense is going off or not, but he trusts his gut… and his gut is telling him something isn’t right.
Peter grips the knob tighter and leans his side against the door, giving it a quick shove. The door is forced open, throwing him slightly off balance as he stumbles into the bathroom. Peter squints against the harsh LED lights.
The sight he’s met with has him freezing, fear and worry climbing up his throat. Tony is sitting on the floor by the toilet, slumped against the bathtub, breathing rapidly.
“Tony?” Peter asks as he takes a few steps closer to him, only to receive a wheezy breath in response. Peter kneels down and places a hand on his shoulder, noticing the sheen of sweat on Tony’s forehead. “Tony? Are you okay?”
It takes Tony far too long to respond before he looks up at Peter with glazed-over, unfocused eyes. Peter’s stomach drops at the alarming sight.
He swallows around the panic clawing at his throat. “T-Tony? Can you hear me? What’s wrong?”
Tony just blinks sluggishly, his gaze still on Peter. “Y-Y’re b’ck?”
Peter frowns worriedly. “What do you mean I’m back?”
Tony blinks again, licking his lips. “You...gone...T’tn…” he slurs, shaking his head as he squeezes his eyes shut. “S’ not real…”
That’s when it clicks with Peter. Tony thinks this is some kind of dream and that the Blip was never reversed—that Peter is still dead.
This isn’t the first time Peter’s dealt with this; Tony’s had quite a few panic attacks since the battle against Thanos and the whole reversal, and Peter’s had to talk him down from the ledge quite a few times.
But never like this.
“This is real Tony—I’m real. I promise you,” Peter reassures, gently squeezing his shoulder.
“S’ not real…” Tony murmurs, words slurring as he leans his head back against the edge of the tub. “S’ not r’l…”
Peter’s mind is racing with panic, even as his head pounds away in his skull. “Tony this is real, I promise you.”
“No s’ not…” Tony mumbles, shaking his head, blinking lazily up at the ceiling.
“Tony, please,” Peter begs, trying to keep himself from crying and freaking out because something is clearly and very wrong . “You’re really starting to scare me.”
Tony doesn’t even seem to notice Peter said anything as he continues staring up at the ceiling with a blank expression on his face.
“F-FRIDAY, call Bruce,” Peter orders.
“Right away,” she responds, a hint of urgency in her voice.
It takes a few moments before Bruce answers, his voice filling the bathroom. “Hello?”
“Uh– Hi, Bruce. It’s Peter,” he says, trying to keep his voice from shaking.
“Hey, Peter how’s it going?” Bruce asks in a friendly voice.
“Uh—not so good. Something’s wrong with Tony.”
“What’s wrong with him?”
“I’m with him in the bathroom now. He’s just sitting here on the floor and he’s really out of it. I-I don’t know.”
“Did he hit his head?” Bruce asks worriedly.
Peter looks at Tony, thankfully not seeing any bruises or blood on his face. “I don’t know—I don’t think so.”
“Did he take anything?”
“Yeah just his pain medication—the ones you left for us this morning.”
The line goes silent for a few brief seconds. “Do you know what color pill he took?”
“Red,” Peter answers, brows pulling together.
The line goes silent once again and Peter feels his stomach twist with dread.
“Peter, I need you to try and stay calm and listen very carefully, okay? Is he breathing okay? Is there any blueness to his lips?”
“W-What? W-Why would they be blue?” Peter asks as panic rises up in his throat.
“The red pills were yours, Peter. They’re designed for your metabolism, which is at least five times faster than the average person,” Bruce tells him in a calm, yet serious voice.
Peter’s eyes widen in horror. “What?! B-But I thought you said… oh my, God,” he says as he runs a shaky hand through his hair. “Th-This is all my fault—I-I did this…”
“Peter, this isn’t your fault,” Bruce tells him.
“Y-Yes it is! I-I wasn’t paying attention. My head just hurt so bad a-and…” Peter stutters out, his eyes filling up with tears.
Tony might die because of him—because of Peter’s stupidity .
“Peter, listen to me. This is not your fault. I should have been clearer and put labels on the prescription bottles. This one’s on me,” Bruce tells him, hearing movement on the other end. “Based on his symptoms, his body is in shock from the medicine, so I’m going to have you lie him down on his side in a recovery position to help keep his airway open. Do you think you can do that for me?”
Peter nods shakily. “Y-Yeah,” he says as he carefully grabs Tony, holding onto his left shoulder and maneuvering him down to the tiled floor on his side. “O-Okay. What now?”
“You have to make sure that he stays awake. Talk to him and ask him questions. I’m on my way now with a med team—we should be there in twenty-five minutes. I’ll stay on the phone with you until then, okay?”
“O-Okay.” Peter repeats.
“He’s going to be alright, Peter. I promise,” Bruce assures.
…
That’s how Peter finds himself sitting in the waiting room at the compound’s medbay a couple hours later for any news on Tony. It’s been a blur from the time Bruce arrived with the med team up until now. Bruce thankfully thought ahead and called Happy, who picked Peter and Morgan up, bringing them to the compound.
Now, it feels like time is just dragging by at a torturous pace.
“He’s going to be alright, Peter,” Happy reassures him for probably the fifth time in the past half-hour, rubbing a hand on his back.
Peter’s hunched over in his chair, head resting on his arms that are folded over his knees. His head is pounding with a vengeance, but it’s nothing compared to the overwhelming guilt. No matter what anyone’s told him, he still feels responsible for all of this. He messed up. Big time. Now Tony is paying for his mistake—possibly with his life.
The thought has tears springing to Peter’s eyes as he slowly sits up, slumping down in his seat with his head resting against the wall behind him. The medbay is quiet, the only sound being the game Morgan is playing on Happy’s phone that’s keeping her distracted for the time being. With how badly his own head aches, Peter hasn’t been able to strain his ears enough to listen in on any conversations between the doctors to see how Tony’s doing.
Peter shuts his eyes tightly, unable to stop the small, pained groan that escapes his lips.
“What’s wrong?” Happy asks in a concerned voice.
Peter breathes out a sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose in an attempt to relieve some of the pain. “Head hurts.”
“Do you want me to get you something?” Happy offers.
Peter drops his hand, shaking his head. He doesn’t deserve the luxury of being pain-free… not after what he’s done. “No… thanks though.”
They settle in silence once again. A few nurses in scrubs pass by them without saying anything, only adding to the guilt-ridden knot in the pit of Peter’s stomach. He doesn’t know when his eyelids start to get heavy, sleep pulling at him with a vengeance. Peter’s eyes are almost closed when his head tips forward, lolling to his chest, and he struggles to blink his eyes back open.
He’s just so exhausted , both physically and mentally.
Peter’s barely aware of his head rolling to the side onto something soft as darkness creeps at the edges of his mind. That’s the last thing he’s aware of before he passes out.
…
Peter wakes up to his head still throbbing, as well as soft voices filtering in and out of his ears as consciousness slowly creeps back to him. He opens his eyes, blinking groggily a few times as his mind registers that his head is resting on Happy’s shoulder and Bruce is standing in front of them.
“Hey, Peter,” Bruce greets, offering him a small smile.
“Hi,” Peter croaks out as he sits up, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. “How’s Tony?”
Bruce lets out a sigh, but his smile never fades. “He’s stable now and doing a lot better.”
The wave of relief that crashes over Peter at hearing those words has him dizzy. “H-He is?” he asks in both joy and disbelief.
“He is,” Bruce confirms with a nod. “He’s asking for you too.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, he’s in the first room down the hall on the right,” Bruce tells him. “He’s pretty tired, but he’s going to be okay.”
Peter smiles as he stands up, pausing for a second to blink away the black dots that dance before his eyes from the sudden change in position. He heads down the hallway and stops in the doorframe of the room, seeing Tony sitting up in bed.
The sight of him has Peter hesitating to go inside, seeing the nasal cannula in his nose, as well as all of the wires and beeping monitors he’s attached to.
I did this to him, Peter thinks to himself.
Guilt twists inside of him and that same tightness in his chest is back again with a vengeance. Peter’s about to turn away before Tony turns his head in his direction, seeing him standing there.
“Hey, you,” Tony greets with a tired smile.
“H-Hey,” Peter says as he nervously steps inside. He moves slowly over to the hospital bed, feeling almost like he shouldn’t be in here—that he doesn't deserve to be. “Uh, h-how are you feeling?”
“Pretty good, all things considered,” Tony says, still smiling up at him.
Peter’s face falls at that and he has to look away as his eyes grow hot, guilt clawing away at his chest. He swallows thickly before meeting Tony’s eyes once more. “I-I’m so sorry. I-I did this to you.”
Tony’s smile drops as he frowns. “Kid, what–”
That’s all it takes for the dam to burst.
“I did this to you. I-I’m s-so stupid! I didn’t l-listen to B-Bruce and-and I gave you the wrong medicine. It almost k-killed you, Tony. I almost killed you,” Peter chokes out as tears freely flow from his eyes.
Tony reaches a hand out to him and manages to grab Peter’s arm. “Kid . This is not your fault. Do you hear me? It’s not. It was an accident , Peter,” he tells him, his voice coming out a little raspy.
“No– but I– I should have–” Peter stutters out, stopping as he sucks in a sharp breath to close his eyes again, more tears streaming down his cheeks.
“Oh, Pete. C’mere, bud,” he hears Tony say softly as Peter is gently tugged forward, feeling his mentor’s arms wrap around him.
Peter lets out a choked sob as he presses his face against Tony’s chest, his fingers curling into a weak fist around the man’s hospital gown. All the guilt, fear, and self-hatred Peter’s been holding onto for the past couple of hours comes out full force, and Tony holds him through it, offering soft reassurances as Peter continues to sob.
It feels like forever until the tears stop, dwindling down to wet, congested sniffles. Crying as hard as he has definitely didn’t do Peter’s headache any favors—it feels like his skull might crack from all of the pressure. Peter lets out a pained groan, muffled by Tony’s chest.
“You okay?” Tony asks in a soft, worried voice.
“Don’t feel that great… my head hurts,” Peter admits, too exhausted to try and lie to him.
“I’m sorry, bud. How about I ask Bruce to bring you your pain meds so you can get some sleep, hm?” Tony offers, rubbing Peter’s back.
“D’n’t wanna leave you…” Peter murmurs.
“I don’t think you’ll have to worry about that, kiddo. You’re two seconds away from falling asleep on me,” Tony says with a small chuckle. “How about you just lie down right here next to me and get some sleep?”
“M’kay,” Peter agrees, pulling away from Tony as he stands up and carefully lies down next to him in the bed, mindful of the medical equipment.
“Comfy?” Tony asks, looking down at him with an amused smirk as Peter snuggles up beside him, resting his head on his chest.
“Mhmm…” Peter hums at the back of his throat, closing his eyes.
He feels Tony’s hand start to card through his curls, which is all it takes before Peter feels himself drifting off a few moments later, being lulled to sleep at the soothing feeling. But before he has the chance to fall asleep, Bruce comes into the room and wakes Peter up, having him swallow one of his super-strength pain relievers with a swig of water.
Peter lies back down, resuming his position with his head resting on Tony’s chest, feeling his mentor’s arm wrap around him as he talks with Bruce, their voices fading as sleep pulls at him as he falls asleep.