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Peter tries to calm his nerves, but it isn’t working. He’s shaking like a leaf in the Avenger’s main conference room, and he feels like he’s about to hyperventilate.
Today is Peter’s test. To be more accurate it’s what Bruce calls the midterm. The next time Peter takes a test, it will be at Midtown High, with his principal and Bruce as proctors. It will be his last chance to improve his Biology grade, but Peter can’t think about that now. He already feels like he wants to throw up.
Peter blames his spider senses for the amped up level of anxiety and adrenaline coursing through his veins. He pauses for a minute. Does adrenaline course through veins or arteries?
He hangs his head and moans to himself. “I’m so going to fail this test.”
He nervously scans the relatively empty conference room.
Clint’s here because he’s finishing up some last-minute Avengers paperwork that he’s been procrastinating, and this is where he always does it.
Tony’s here because he, like Clint, he has paperwork to do. Unlike Clint, he can really do it anywhere, but just needs an excuse to keep an eye on Peter to make sure he doesn’t have a test induced anxiety attack.
Sadly, Peter is on the verge of having just that.
Bruce should be here, but he’s taking his sweet time printing and stapling the test, and searching for a stack of scantron papers. He knows that he left them on his desk just yesterday, but somehow, they’ve disappeared.
Peter feels as if his heart is pumping too hard, and his chest feels too heavy and too tight. It’s an all too familiar pattern. Peter’s about to have an anxiety attack.
He hasn’t had one in a while and just the fact that it’s going to happen in front of Tony, Clint, and Bruce makes the sense of panic even worse. Peter used to have these attacks all the time, but now that he’s working with the Avengers, he’s embarrassed that the others will see the attacks as a weakness. Especially if he’s having one for the sole reason of being scared of failing a test.
Peter’s about to cry and he doesn’t know what to do. His options are limited, but they become even more limited when Bruce arrives with the test. Peter knows from experience that once a test starts, you can only leave if it’s an emergency, no excuses. And if Peter admits to an emergency, the other Avengers in the room will know that he can’t even take a test without freaking out.
Bruce puts the test papers and scantrons on the table with his usual distain for anything that takes extra effort. He sighs. “Test time. Ready Pete?”
Peter’s body is not going to cooperate, and he has to get out of the room as soon as possible. He gives the only excuse that won’t result in any of the people in the room worrying about him, or following after him. “Um, I have to use the bathroom. I gotta pee.”
It’s not an original excuse by any means, especially when someone’s looking to delay taking a test, but if Peter confesses that he’s about to throw up, he’s sure that either Clint or Tony will volunteer to go with him to rub his back or offer some other kind of assistance. Also, admitting that he doesn’t feel well is too close to the truth. He has to hide the anxiety attack at all costs.
Bruce doesn’t give an immediate answer to Peter’s question because Peter didn’t actually ask to go anywhere, and he didn’t phrase it as a question either. He just announced how he was feeling.
Peter’s airway is narrowing, and his vision is staring to blur so he ups the urgency. His knees are already bouncing enough to shake the entire room, so he leans into that urgency as he stands. “I really can’t wait Dr. Banner.”
He races out of the room and stumbles into the closest bathroom that he can find.
He shuts the door, leans his back against it, and grabs his chest. He gulps in as much air as he can, almost like he’s a fish out of water, struggling for his next breath. The air that he’s able to force inside his lungs is painful and it burns. He closes his eyes trying to will himself to end this.
He tries to focus on something other than his body telling him he’s about to die. He closes his eyes and uses his super hearing to focus on the conversation in the conference room. Anything to distract him from this.
Bruce is using the concerned doctor voice. “It’s not like Peter to run out of a test. He’s usually more responsible when it comes to being prepared.”
Clint tries to defend Peter. “When you gotta go, you gotta go, Bruce. I’m sure he’s fine. I doubt he’s got the test answers written on the wall and he’s cheating in there.”
“I didn’t say that, Clint. You know what? Forget it.”
There’s a few moments of silence and Peter hears Tony’s voice. It’s quieter, almost a whisper. “Hey Clint, do you think Banner’s right? Do you think there’s something wrong?”
Clint answers back. “I don’t know. It’s kind of odd that he was fine one minute and then he was about to pee his pants the next.”
Tony adopts the concerned dad voice. “Having to go that badly out of the blue could be a sign of kidney damage. I think it’s a sign of diabetes too.”
Clint lowers his voice even more, presumably so Bruce doesn’t hear their diagnoses. “You sound like one of those people that go on the internet and type in their symptoms and they’re convinced they have a horrible disease. Maybe the kid just needed to take a leak and didn’t realize it until it got out of hand. I can’t say I haven’t been in that situation before.”
Peter can hear Tony typing into his phone. “Well maybe you have kidney disease or diabetes. Are you experiencing unexpected or abnormally frequent urination throughout the day?”
“How many times a day is abnormally frequent?”
“It doesn’t say on the site, but I guess if you have to ask, it’s too many.”
Clint’s voice adopts the same level of concern that Tony’s has. “Peter’s enhanced and Bruce is being a dick about things, so I can call Phil and see if someone at SHIELD can check him out.”
Peter stops listening to the conversation. He’s a lot calmer than before. He even threw up in the sink during one part of their conversation and that almost always signals the end of his anxiety attacks.
Peter also knows that this is getting out of hand, and he should just admit that he had an anxiety attack and that he didn’t have something hospital worthy, like kidney failure or diabetes. Unfortunately, his fear of being considered weak by his peers forces him to double down on the lie, instead of clearing it up.
Peter turns on the faucet and splashes the cold water on his face to make his already flushed complexion even redder. He rubs his nose vigorously until the tip is Rudolph level red and he exits the bathroom.
When he reaches the conference room he sniffs. “Sorry. I guess I drank too much water this morning. I woke up feeling really congested.”
Bruce is the first to inquire. “You’re not feeling well? You should have told me. If you’re coming down with a cold, I would’ve postponed the test until tomorrow. Your spider abilities prevent you from having a cold for more than a day or two, so it wouldn’t have been a problem.”
Peter pretends to make his nose sound stuffed up. “M’sorry Dr. Banner.”
Tony walks over to Peter. “No need to be sorry. Why don’t you get some rest? I’ll bring you some soup and crackers. That always helps me when I get a cold.”
Peter feels guilty for lying, but the extra affection from Tony is a nice bonus.
Tony guides Peter into his room and tucks him into bed.
Peter isn’t sick, so he plays on his phone until he hears Tony’s footsteps approaching the room again. Peter tosses the phone on the dresser and rubs his nose to make it pink again. He crumples a few tissues and scatters them on the dresser and the floor. He grabs the covers and pulls then up just in time. Tony enters the room a second later.
Tony has a bowl of steaming hot chicken noddle soup in one hand and a sleeve of crackers in the other. Peter’s only pretending that he has a cold, so he’s sure that the tightness in his stomach is from guilt.
Tony smiles as he sits on the side of the bed and serves his cold remedies. Peter pulls the covers down just enough to reach his arms out to accept the soup. He takes a spoonful of the delicious soup and hums. “This tastes great Mr. Stark.”
“I’m glad you like it. It’s homemade by Chef Sam. As good as his barbecue meals are, his indoor cooking is just as good.”
Peter bites his lip. “Mr. Stark, there’s something I have to tell you.”
Peter is about to confess that he’s faking all of this, but a sneeze comes out instead of the words. The rogue sneeze actually causes his nose to run, and he sniffs, instead of confessing.
Tony hands Peter a tissue. “You know Peter, you do so much to help everyone here with all of our medical emergencies and what not. You deserve someone to look after you.”
Peter’s face lights up.
Tony continues. “That’s why I’m leaving one of my robots to watch over you.”
An iron robot, that looks like a modified trash can, rolls into the room. The robotic helper emphasizes every syllable in the most robotic fashion. “He-llo Pe-ter. How may I be of a-ssis-tance?”
Peter pouts. “Why can’t you look after me Mr. Stark?”
Peter doesn’t really have the right to be upset about Tony not looking after him. After all, the boy isn’t even really sick. But for some reason it still makes Peter sad that Tony would rather leave a robot to watch him than just stay with him instead.
Tony stands up, preparing to leave. “This robot is twice the nurse that I could ever be. Trust me kiddo, it’s an upgrade.”
Tony ruffles Peter’s hair before he leaves.
When Peter is alone with the robot, Peter sighs. “Well, I guess you’re better than nothing.”
Peter reaches for his phone, but the robot intercepts the phone. “No phone time Pe-ter. You must get your rest if you want to re-cov-er.”
Peter groans. “This is what I get for lying.”
The robot stands closer to Peter. “Was that a sound of dis-tress?”
“No. I was just groaning.”
“Groan-ing is a sign of dis-tress. Must an-a-lyze your lev-els of health.”
The robot takes a thermometer and reaches to put it in Peter’s mouth.
Peter scoots away so he’s temporarily out of reach. “Why are you so basic? Mr. Stark has more advanced robotics attached to the toaster.”
“I am e-quipped to an-a-lyze ev-er-y health con-di-tion that has e-ver been re-cor-ded.”
The robot drops the thermometer into the bowl of soup and immediately an alarm goes off.
The robot spins in a circle. “Tem-per-ture le-vels dan-ger-ous-ly high. Must seek med-i-cal a-sis-tance i-me-di-at-ely. Call-ing SHEILD med-i-cal staff.”
Peter waves his hands. “No no no. Don’t do that. I’m fine.” Peter tries to reach the robot, but gets caught in the sheets and falls off the bed.
Peter goes down really hard and he hits his elbow. He lands right on the funny bone and moans in pain. “Owwww. Ugh. It’s hurts.”
At that moment Tony comes running in along with Clint.
Clint is first to speak. “It’s ok Peter. We’re taking you to SHIELD. Phil sent me a text that said its being prepped for your arrival. Tony and I are going to help you into the Quinjet so we can get you there faster.”
Peter is still seeing stars because he hit the most sensitive part of his elbow. He grits his teeth to tell them that the pain is temporary, and he doesn’t need a hospital, but all he can get out is, “No...”
Tony wraps the blanket around him. “The robot said you have an extremely high fever. You must be getting delusional.”
Peter shakes his head. “Wait…”
Clint picks him up. “There’s no time to wait, kiddo. I know you don’t like planes, but I’ll try my best to make it a smooth ride.”
Peter closes his eyes and focuses on forcing out words. “Not sick… faking it…”
Peter takes a deep breath, still grimacing from his sore elbow. “I’ve been lying. I’m not sick. I’m just… I’m just a liar.”
Clint is still carrying him. “But the fever?”
“The thermometer fell into the soup. And my nose isn’t stuffed up or runny, I just rubbed it until it turned red.”
Clint sets Peter back onto the bed.
Tony looks at Peter with more confusion than anger. “Why did you pretend to be sick? Did you do it to get out of taking the test?”
Peter’s eyes are filling with tears. “No. I…” He takes a deep breath, despite feeling his chest tightening again. “…I got really nervous before the test, and I had an anxiety attack. I was embarrassed to tell you because I haven’t had one in a while and I thought you’d think I was, I don’t know, um, weak?”
Tony sits on the bed. “If you think that we would be disappointed in you if you had a panic attack or an anxiety attack, then we’ve done something wrong. You should never feel embarrassed about a health condition that you can’t control. Trust me kiddo, I’ve had enough panic attacks to know that they’re completely out of your control.”
Clint kneels down to be eye-level with the bed. “Phil says they’re still waiting for you, and I’ll tell them it was a misunderstanding, but if you want, I can tell him to put me in touch with someone that you can talk to about your anxiety. I’m sure they can work out some kind of tele-doc thing so you can talk through the computer.”
Peter wipes the tears away. “I’d like that, Clint.”
Clint nods as he stands. “I’ll call Phil right now to set something up. I’ll leave you and Tony to talk.”
Clint goes outside the room and Peter hears the start of the conversation. “Hey Babe. Peter’s fine, but I need a favor…”
Tony’s voice drowns out Peter’s eavesdropping. “You don’t have a cold, but do you want a hug anyway?”
Peter’s eyes fill with tears again as he silently nods.
Tony nods as well. “Robot 357, can you give Peter a hug?”
Peter laughs. “Really?”
Tony clicks off the power switch on the robot and reaches across the bed to pull Peter into an Irondad hug.
Peter feels himself relax instantly and wonders why he didn’t fess up to begin with. If a hug from Tony was all he needed, it could have saved him from almost being hospitalized.
The spider who cried wolf definitely learned his lesson today.