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"Ouch."
"What hurts?"
"Swallowing."
Tony lovingly brushes Peters hair back, looking sadly at the sick boy. He's currently wrapped up in layers and layers of blankets, nose red along with his doe eyes, looking exhausted. His mouth is slightly agape do to the fact that he can't breathe through his nose.
"Is there anything I can get you?" Tony questions, feeling completely helpless as he looks over his sick child. Peter shivers, curling up more into the hospital cot covers. "More blankets?"
"No."
"Food?"
"No."
"Anything?" Tony asks desperately, hand reaching out to clutch his sons. "Please, kid. I just want you to feel okay, you know?"
"I know." After Peter speaks he takes a moment to breathe in and out slowly, talking obviously taking too much energy.
"What's wrong?" May asks, fixing her glasses from where she sits across the room. "You alright, baby?"
"Yeah." Peter nods, smiling lazily.
"You sure?"
"Yeah, I just need to catch my breath."
Tony starts to fix Peters blankets, making sure they're tucked around him properly. He then moves onto Peters pillows, starting to fix the cases and fluff them up a bit more. As he does this, May notices Peter sighing tiredly, looking like he's trying to roll his eyes. She stifles a laugh against her hand, admiring the two.
She loves their relationship. May knows that Peter needs a father figure and is more than happy for it to be Tony. It's nice knowing that she's not the only one who losses years off their lives because of their superhero child. Her and Tony have become a real team.
"Tony?"
"Hm?"
"I think the pillows are good." May can't help the smile that comes across her face when she sees Tony looking up, acting confused. "Maybe let our boy sleep?"
"Yeah, yeah." Tony drags his feet over to the woman and sits beside her with a humph. "What are we going to do with him?"
"It's just a virus." May says. "It's not like he got this from fighting, he just got this from being a teen boy who goes to school."
"Still." Tony watches Peters chest that rises and falls steadily. "I'm scared to death everyday. He's the only thing I can think about. I worry he's not safe or that he's hurt."
"I know." May gives Tony's shoulder a friendly pat. "I feel the same way. At least he has us though, right?"
"Yeah." Tony confirms, nodding his head. "He has us. We won't be leaving anytime soon." The genius pauses for a second. "Do you think he'd be okay if we did?"
"Of course." May states. "He's the strongest person I know. He's been through so much. Going through more things would suck, of course it would. But he'd rise above. He'd be okay."
"Yeah, you're right. He's brave. He's tough." Tony agrees with the women, face in a frown. "I just wish he didn't have to be so strong though, you know? Why can't he just be a kid?"
"Because he's Peter." May begins fondly. "Normal has never been in his vocabulary."
"I'm not deaf, you know?" Peter's small voice speaks from his bed, eyes remaining closed. "Stop talking about dying, it's depressing."
"Sorry, bambino."
"I'm sorry, my boy."
"It's cold in here." Peter whines, sinking further into the pile of blankets on him so they cover the bottom half of his face. "Is the A/C on?"
"Nope. The heat's on." Tony sighs, staring sadly at the kid. He'd do anything to make Peter feel better, but there's not much he can do at the moment. "Are you sure you don't want anymore blankets?"
"Yeah."
"Are you really sure?"
". . . no."
Tony and May chuckle at the same time, both getting up to grab some extra blankets from the pile that they made on a chair in the corner. May takes one that's covered in mini arc reactors and Tony grabs one that has cartoon animals on it. They're both fairly old but still soft and comforting. Both parents cover Peter in these blankets and then climb on either side of his hospital cot. They curl their bodies around his, almost as if they're protecting him.
"'M tired." Peter slurs. "Like, very tired."
"We know, baby." May presses a kiss on his cheek as both her and Tony's arms encircle the boy. "You can rest now."
"But, I can't."
"Why not?"
"Don't feel so good." Peter mumbles against the blankets material. "What if I have to puke?"
"We'll deal with that when the time comes." Tony says, pushing Peters hair back.
"'Kay, Misser Stark."
"Who?"
"Misser Stark?"
"Don't know who that is. Sorry."
Peter smiles lazily. ". . . Dad."
"That's better." Tony gives his temple a kiss, feeling relief flow through him at the steady thump of Peters pulse.
"Love you guys."
"Love you, tesoro."
"Love you too, sweetheart."