Work Text:
The rattling, wheezing cough that Steve Rogers let out had Tony grimacing as his gaze ran over the screen that displayed the super soldier’s vitals. They were low and nothing like what they should be.
The moment Steve started displaying symptoms, Tony had called in Helen Cho.
“I’m fine,” Steve had said when Tony had made the call.
Tony had taken one look at the sickly sheen of sweat on Steve’s forehead and alarm bells had started ringing. In all the time that Tony had known the man out of time, he hadn’t once gotten sick. They hadn’t thought it possible, not with his super healing.
Steve had protested that he didn’t need anything, just some sleep. That was quickly dismissed when Steve had taken a shaky step, almost collapsing. Thankfully, Bucky had been there to catch him, slinging an arm over his shoulder and hauling Steve down to the Med Bay.
To their immense worry, Steve had declined quickly. Helen was pumping a cocktail of drugs into the super solider, a guess at this point, while everyone was doing their best to find out what had caused this. So far, the drugs seemed to keep Steve from getting worse, but he hadn’t improved.
“Steve, what happened?” Tony had asked as they got him into the med bay.
“Was tracking Hydra,” Steve had panted. “They got away. Threw some kind of powder at me.”
“We’ll retrace his steps,” Natasha said before she had left. “Find the agent and get the antidote.”
“I’ll alert the others,” Tony had said. “Maybe Strange can help with an antidote if we need it.”
The buzz of Tony’s phone had him reaching into his pocket. He pulled it out, expecting to see Natasha, Clint or Bucky’s name flashing on his screen. He hadn’t heard from them since they had left a few hours ago. Instead, Peter Parker flashed on his screen, accompanied with a photo of the teenager.
“Hey kid,” Tony greeted.
“Mr Stark!” Peter said. “Thank Thor you answered! I need some help getting to the tower.”
“Sorry kid, I’m a little tied up at the moment,” Tony said, glancing at Steve whose face was pinched with pain. “Steve’s sick.”
“Sick?” Peter repeated. “He’s sick?”
“Yeah,” Tony said. “Took us all by surprise. Can you find another way to the tower?”
“Yeah, yeah, cool. I can do that,” Peter rambled quickly. “I’ll be fine.”
“Thanks kid,” Tony said, guilt gnawing at his stomach. He hated letting Peter down but right now, Steve needed him. “I’ll see you soon.”
“I’m sure you’ll see me before I see you,” Peter mumbled. “Bye!”
“Bye,” Tony said, hanging up the call. He pocketed his phone and turned his attention back to Steve.
“Peter?” Steve grunted, turning his head to look at Tony.
“On his way to the tower,” Tony said.
“He okay?” Steve asked, worry leaking through the pained expression.
“Yeah, kids fine.”
“Saw him before,” Steve said. He let out a stifled moan of pain as he shifted. “Out on patrol.”
Tony’s blood ran cold. While Tony had alerted the other Avengers, he had forgotten to let Peter know of the Hydra agent that was running around New York with a potentially fatal drug. Tony scrambled for his phone, hurrying to bring up Peter’s contact.
“Pick up, Pick up, Pick up,” Tony muttered as Peter’s phone rang.
“I can do this,” Peter muttered to himself, wincing at the particularly loud car horn. “I can so do this.”
“You’re doing great, Peter,” Karen’s voice filtered through his ear. “We are nearly at the Tower.”
Peter’s heart raced in his chest as he slowly started walking forward. He swallowed down the anxiety that threatened to overwhelm him, knowing that Karen wouldn’t lead him into oncoming traffic. His other senses were working over drive, keeping him from bumping into people.
Going blind had not been on Peter’s list of things to do today.
It had been a few hours after Peter had said goodbye to Steve (a nice surprise on his patrol) when had come across a man that was crying out for help. When Peter had reached him, he had been surprised when a powder had been thrown in his face. Luckily, the filtration in his mask had kicked in, not allowing him to breath in the powder. Some, however, seeped through the eyes of the mask.
Peter had blinked away the sudden grit in his eye, the man managing to escape. Then Peter’s vision had started to go blurry until he couldn’t see anything.
“Karen?” Peter had panicked. “What’s happening?”
“The powder has appeared to irritate your eyes,” Karen said. “I will help you get to the Tower.”
“Call Mr. Stark,” Peter had said, uncaring at how desperate he sounded.
Except, Tony couldn’t help him because Steve was ill.
“I can do this,” Peter had said and had followed Karen’s instructions to get to the tower. Thankfully he hadn’t been too far and the walk towards the tower had gone as well as it could have.
He had ignored the whispers and giggles that had followed him down the streets, the shouts of ‘Hey Spidey!’ He had stopped to pose for a photo for an over-enthusiastic tourist who hadn’t taken no for an answer and had stepped in what was hopefully just a water puddle.
“Mr. Stark is calling,” Karen said. “Would you like me to put him through?”
“He’s busy,” Peter said. Steve was sick and needed the help more than him right now. “We’re nearly there, right?”
“Nearly there,” Karen assured him.
Peter let out a small sigh of relief –
And immediately tensed when his skin prickled, a warning chill running down his spine. He caught a scent that wasn’t native to the streets of New York and automatically raised an arm to shoot a web –
“What did that lamp post do to deserve your webs?” a familiar voice purred.
“Loki?” Peter perked up.
“Yes,” Loki said.
Peter sighed with relief. He waved his hand around, trying to reach out for Loki but he found nothing but air. “Where are you?”
A strong hand gripped his elbow and Peter sunk into Loki’s space, the tension slowly easing from his body. “Hey.”
“You can’t see,” Loki stated.
Peter gave a small whimper. “Someone threw a powder in my face.”
“Same as Rogers,” Loki said, a sneer in his voice. “I look forward to meeting the agent who did this to you.”
Peter shivered at the threat in Loki’s voice. “Where’s Mr. Stark?”
“Waiting for you,” Loki said. “Hold on.”
Peter’s senses went haywire and the sounds of New York vanished. It took a moment for Peter to adjust to the sterile scents and the sound of monitors and the whirs of technology.
“Pete!”
Peter was enveloped into familiar arms, the scent of motor oil filling his senses. With a whimper, Peter relaxed into Tony’s grip, finally allowing his predicament to sink in.
“I can’t see,” Peter mumbled into Tony’s chest. “Dad, I can’t see.”
Peter was gently pushed back and the mask from his face was pulled away. Fresh air hit his face and before he could bring his hands up to rub at his eyes, a strong grip was keeping him from doing so.
“I’ve got you,” Tony said. “Don’t rub them, okay. I’m going to fix this. I promise.”
“Please,” Peter’s voice wobbled.
“I’m so sorry I forgot to warn you, kiddo,” Tony said, voice filled with guilt.
“Not your fault,” Peter said, squeezing Tony’s hands. “Who did this?”
“Hydra,” Tony snarled. “The others are tracking them down now.”
Peter nodded and squeezed his hands again. He could picture the dark, angry look on Tony’s face and he didn’t want it to be there.
“Thanks for finding me, Loki,” Peter said, hopefully in the direction where Loki was standing.
“My pleasure,” Loki said. “If you’ll excuse me, I’d like to join the search.”
Another prickle down Peter’s spine and the scent of which Peter was beginning to think was magic filled the area before it disappeared.
“I’ve got you,” Tony murmured as he led Peter towards a bed. He helped Peter sit down and get comfortable.
“Don’t go,” Peter blurted out, grip tightening on Tony’s hand as he felt the genius start to shift away.
“Not going anywhere,” Tony promised. The bed dipped and Peter felt Tony settle in beside him. “Helen?”
“Hi Peter,” Helen’s voice came somewhere to his left. “I’m going to check you out, okay.”
Tony didn’t leave Peter’s side; not as Helen checked him out and flushed out his eyes, not when the other’s returned with news they had found the hydra agent. He didn’t leave when the synthesized a cure or when Peter’s eyesight returned, and Steve recovered. Didn’t leave when Peter’s eyes welled up at the sight of Tony smiling fondly at him or when Peter gave him a tight hug saying, “thank you, dad.”
Tony didn’t say anything when he caught Peter staring at him, so relieved that he could see again. Tony simply smiled back, relief on his face.
“Love you, kid.”
“Love you too, dad.”
And if Peter stared a picture of himself and Tony before he fell asleep, that was between him and his phone, just so grateful that he could still see his loved ones.
