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“Pete, why didn’t you tell me?”
“Why didn’t I tell you what?”
“That you were about to run out of shots?”
“Oh.”
The two heroes are in the penthouse, with Peter settling into the couch after Happy dropped him off from school. Knowing the kid will be hungry, Tony hands him a bag of popcorn before he sits on the cushion next to him.
“Happy told you?” Peter asks.
“Yep. Right after he went on that ‘shot scavenger hunt.’”
“I’m sorry—”
“You know I could’ve handled it,” the billionaire says, “You’d have shots the next day—”
“I know, I know.” After a few handfuls of the popcorn, the boy continues, “We just didn’t think it was gonna take this long to get them. I didn’t want to tell you and then have you worry over nothing.”
“So instead, you wait till the last possible minute.” Tony gives him a look of disbelief. “You can’t procrastinate this like you do a school essay, bud—”
“I know, God,” Peter interjects with a frustrated groan, “You don’t need to give me a lecture, okay? That’s why I called Happy, because I knew I needed them.” He rests the popcorn bag in his lap. “Okay, maybe I should’ve called sooner but we really thought I was gonna get those shots with no problem; I’ve never had a problem with getting them before this.”
“What happened with the insurance company exactly?” Tony asks in curiosity.
“So, May submitted our new insurance and we thought everything was fine ‘cuz the pharmacy people put it in their system, but then they said the insurance company needed to ‘review’ it before it gets approved, whatever the fuck that means. Both of us called like a million times and it still wasn’t ready when I only had one shot left.”
“Gotta love our healthcare system, huh,” the mechanic says, his tone dripping with sass, “What d’ya think would’ve happened if there weren’t any shots here?”
The teenager shrugs, a sigh escaping him in his reply. “Probably would’ve just taken the ‘L’ and dealt with not having shots for a while.”
“What the fuck does ‘taking the “L”’ mean?” Tony holds up a hand before the tyke can answer. “Y’know what, never mind, the point is, you made the right decision by coming to me.”
A faint blush forms in Peter’s cheeks, a slight smile spreading across his face before he starts back on his afternoon snack. “Thanks for getting the shots straightened out for me,” he says timidly.
“Don’t mention it.” The older hero lightly pats his protege on the back, ruffling his hair at the nape of his neck. “Seriously, you’re never gonna have that problem again, okay?”
“You’re really gonna be paying for my shots forever?”
“The fact that you had to pay them at all is highway robbery, so I don’t mind a bit. Hey, maybe I can write this off as a ‘superhero business expense.’”
“Does that actually exist in taxes?” Peter says with a snort, “Do you have to pay some kinda ‘superhero’ tax? Am I gonna have to eventually pay a ‘superhero’ tax?”
“Wouldn’t surprise me, knowing our government.” The older man’s tone turns solemn. “Now, if you run into anything like this again—which you shouldn’t—please promise me you’ll come to me about it first thing.”
Peter fondly rolls his eyes at the protectiveness. “Promise.”
“Good.” Tony slumps into the couch cushion and takes a handful of popcorn before instructing FRIDAY to turn on the TV. “How’re you doing on your shots, by the way, everything been okay there?”
Again, the child rolls his eyes, curling into his mentor’s side while he finishes off the snack. “Yeah, same old, same old. It still stings when I take them but that's normal.”
"Pain should never be normal—"
"But it's my normal, so I gotta deal with it."
"But you don't deserve to deal with it." With a sigh, Tony wraps his arm around his kid, leading the tyke to lean into the crook of the elder’s shoulder. “You better let me know if it ever gets not your normal, understand?”
“Oh my God, when’re you gonna stop being a ‘mother hen’?”
“How cute that you think I’m gonna stop.”