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Peter was not as stupid as everyone seemed to think alright? He knew that running while he had a fever and was delirious was a bad idea but he really didn’t want to be alone. So, why not use the talent’s his fathers’ DNA had given him and go see said father. There were two problems that Peter would later realize with this idea: one, his Dad didn’t know he was his Dad; and two, no one in the mansion knew he was sick nor had they ever met a sick clingy Peter.
Peter's mom used to tell Peter stories from when he was younger and when he was sick then. Every year once winter would hit he would be down for a week, stuck in bed with the sorest throat known to mankind. He’d have constant low grade fevers and his body would be full of aches, from his head to his toes he would barely be able to move. But, throughout it all his mom would be at his side. From waking him for meds every few hours to keeping the damp rag over his eyes and forehead, she was always there. As Peter aged and his powers came in fully the yearly week of being in bed seemed to wean. It went from every year to every few to really almost never. Sick Peter became a thing of the past which in Peter’s opinion was one of the best things to come with his mutation- until now.
Winter had just begun to set in at the school, the kids were playing out in the yard less and were in the library and common areas more. But for Peter, winter meant chilly runs in the crisp morning air and zooming through the falling snow. It also meant his runs were shorter and he was stuck inside more as the below freezing temperatures hit and the days became shorter. Peter was not built for spending extended periods of time inside so while he enjoyed winter, it had nothing on summer weather.
Needless to say, Peter was sick. He had felt the start of a sore throat and migraine a few days earlier and had elected to ignore them. Instead he went for a run outside in the near freezing temperatures and proceeded to be lectured afterwards by Erik on why that wasn’t safe for his health. After his lecture he grabbed some lunch and went to chill in the common room for staff. A lot of the kids were away with their families for winter break, so the mansion was pretty empty.
It’s not until two days later that the sore throat really hits, at this point Peter can barely talk but he really doesn’t feel like going to see Hank when he knows what he’s going to say. It’s just strep throat and he doesn’t really want to deal with the poking and prodding- he’s tired and all he wants to do is lay in bed. All he needs is a few days of rest, the meds aren’t going to work anyway- not since his mutation reared its head, they don’t work. Instead he gets to play the waiting game using bedrest. But, it’s different this time because he’s alone. There’s no mom to wipe his head and bring him food, no Wanda or Lorna to entertain him during his small waking periods. This time he’s an adult in a mansion of adults and adults take care of themselves, they don’t need their fathers to bring them soup or to sit at their bedside just because their throat hurts and their body aches and the idea of standing while their head pounds makes them want to cry. It’s then that Peter notices he is crying- there are silent tears streaming down his face because everything just hurts and he’s alone.
This is where the genius part of his brain kicked in- his Dad was right down the hall, all he had to do was make it there and then he wouldn’t be alone and he’d be with his dad and dad’s care for their kids, simple as that. Peter sat up with his eyes closed, mentally preparing himself to walk to his bedroom door and walk down the hall. The trip would be easy, less than a second in super speed and maybe thirty seconds at normal people speed. All he had to do was walk three doors down and knock, that was it. So, Peter stood and carefully walked to his door, avoiding opening his eyes due to the light that would inevitably feel blinding while increasing his migraine tenfold. While opening the door he had to flinch, the sound of the hinges squeaking alone made him think this whole thing was a bad idea in the first place. But, the idea of sitting alone made his skin crawl.
Then the walk to Erik’s door began. What should have been a thirty second trip was three minutes because he was moving so slow. His body felt like it was burning from head to toe. Raising his fist he knocked on the door and waited. And waited. And waited. Minutes pass, maybe longer, at this point time is an illusion that Peter can’t quite get straight. With no answer at his door this means Peter has to go find him. He needs his dad.
So, Peter enters super speed. His desire to not be alone is far above anything else, he needs comfort, he needs Erik- even if it means getting lectured on appropriate winter weather attire. He starts by going to the stairs- if Erik isn’t in his bedroom that means he is likely in Charles’ study playing chess. While Peter means to walk down the stairs it ends up being more of a super speed stumble which ends with him as a panting heap at the end of the stairs, holding onto the railing, struggling to breathe. This is when he gets the first sense that maybe super speeding while sick isn’t a great idea. But, once more he ignores it because he’s so close now, just a little fur-. His vision starts to spin and then it goes black and he feels like he’s falling before a loud crash echoes through his head. The surface beneath him is hard, he definitely isn’t standing anymore.
The longer he lays there the more voices he starts to hear. What started as one concerned voice patting his cheek has turned to eight. The sound is grating on his ears, his eyes are still closed and unwilling to open to the light, everything just hurts . He can feel the cold feeling of tears rolling down his warm face as he struggles to lift his hands up and over his ears. Suddenly someone shouts and then everyone goes quiet- and finally, finally Peter feels like he can breathe again. Someone is trying to talk to them, he can feel the vibrations in the air but he can’t be bothered to answer them. All he wants is Erik. He can feel someone placing their arms under his shoulders and knees and then he’s being lifted. His head is resting on their shoulders and it’s a comfortable place, one that feels safe. So, he lets his breathing slow and even out, falling asleep as the mystery person carries him away from the hard floor.
When Peter wakes the first thing he realizes is that he isn’t alone. There’s people on either side of him talking and there’s something resting on his legs. He carefully opens his eyes slightly and is surprised to see Erik on one side of him and Charles on the other with their favorite chess board sitting on his legs.
“I’m more than a table,” He coughs out, throat still dry and unbelievably sore.
“Welcome back to the real world, Peter.”
“Thanks, Charles.” Peter answers, still confused at what’s all going on.
“I’ve got a phone call to make so I’ll be right back,” Charles says immediately while shooting a look Erik’s way. “Why don’t you catch Peter up on everything, Erik?”
Peter watches as Charles leaves the room Peter now recognizes to be the infirmary.
“So,” Peter says, stretching the word. “What’s up?”
“You are sick. You have a fever and tried to use your super speed and you fell down the stairs. I found you laying on the floor, barely conscious. Then you were calling out for your father.”
“Oh.”
“Yes, ‘Oh’ indeed. Who is this mysterious father anyways? You’ve never mentioned him before and Charles was as confused as I was.”
Peter freezes. Should he tell him now or should he play it off as a fever dream? Looking at Erik makes Peter pause again- the man is looking at him with concern. The concern he had wanted so terribly when he left his room in search of his father before his fall was there, on Erik’s face now. Maybe it was time to tell him?
“You.” Peter blurts out before he can stop himself, “It’s you.”
“Huh?” Erik questions, looking at Peter with a heavier look of concern. “Do we need Hank to come check your head again?”
“No. It’s you. You asked who my dad is and it’s you. I was asking for you. I’m sorry if it was a little weird or anything. When I was younger I was sick a lot and my mom was always at my side so when I woke up alone, sick, I just freaked out. It won’t happen again, I’m sorry.”
“Peter I-. It’s alright, we can figure this out when you’re feeling better. For now, rest and relax- I’ll be with you the whole time.” Erik answers as he smiles at Peter. “You won’t be alone, I promise.”
“Thanks,” Peter mumbles out, a wake of tiredness hitting him.
“Goodnight Peter.”
“Goodnight Dad.”