Work Text:
Peter’s day was starting out just fantastic.
Had May seen him that morning, he was fairly certain she would have never let him go to school. His skin was sickly pale, his nose bright red.
Oh, yeah, and he had a nasty cough.
But he had a midterm in English, and Peter was already on the teacher’s bad side, so the very last thing Peter wanted to do was make it worse by skipping.
Which is what the school would accuse him of doing, if he didn’t show up. Because May was out on Long Island all day, at some training for a certification she needed for work, which meant she didn’t see Peter that morning, and Peter didn’t want to call her and interrupt her training just to excuse him from school.
So Peter dragged himself all the way to school, and sat through two whole periods until he could finally take his English midterm.
Then he threw up into the trashcan next to his teacher’s desk…
And now he was being forced to talk to May anyway, because someone had to come pick him up from school, even though he’d be perfectly fine lying on the bed in the nurse’s office all day. Something about having a fever over 100 and throwing up just meant he couldn’t stay in the building, and couldn’t be trusted to get himself home.
“Hi, May,” he mumbled when the nurse handed him the school phone after she’d dialed up May for him.
“Hi honey,” she said so soothingly, Peter’s shoulders immediately relaxed. “Feeling pretty bad, huh?”
“Yeah,” Peter said. He’d not felt this sick in a long, long time. Not since the spider bite. He hadn’t even known he was capable of still getting sick.
“I’m out in West Babylon, I can’t get there for at least two hours.”
“I know, I’m sorry,” Peter rasped. He had to pause to cough, pulling the phone away from his face so she didn’t get all his germs on it.
“No, don’t be sorry. I’m the sorry one,” May said once he was done. “Would you be okay with me calling Tony?”
Peter blinked slowly, then furrowed his brow. “You think he’d come get me?”
His relationship with his dad was still new… and entirely centered around Peter coming over once a week to tinker in his lab and build robots, sometimes with his help, and sometimes while just sitting near him.
“Have you talked to him today?” May asked.
Peter shrugged. Then remembered May wasn’t in the room with him. “He texted me this morning.”
It had been well wishes for his English midterm, then a picture of the gadget he’d been working on last week when Peter was last over. Tony had been stuck on how to connect two pieces together without sacrificing mobility, and had finally figured it out.
“Is he in the city?” May asked next.
“Yeah, I think so,” Peter said. He had to be, if he was in his workshop that morning. Plus, he usually told Peter if he was going out of town.
“Well, then I think he’ll be there in about ten minutes if I ask,” May said, and Peter could just hear her fond smile.
“If you say so,” Peter mumbled. He wasn’t fully sure of that, but he also didn’t have any concrete data to dispute her, either.
“Are you okay going to his place?” she asked next. “Would you be okay with him being the one to take care of you?”
“Yeah. I just want to sleep, anyway.”
“Okay, darling, okay. I’ll call him. I won’t be home until late, so I’ll come get you in the morning?”
Peter closed his eyes and mumbled, “Kay.” He wasn’t sure Tony was going to be cool with that, but again. No data.
“If you need me sooner, just call me, okay?”
“Okay,” Peter agreed. “Love you.”
“I love you too, honey. Please hand me back to the nurse.”
Peter did, then curled up on his side and closed his eyes, content to let the conversation between the nurse and May just wash over him. May told her, “I’m going to call his father to come get him,” and Peter tuned them out after that.
That was, until the nurse sat down in the chair next to him and said, “So, your dad, huh?”
“Yeah,” Peter exhaled, not even opening his eyes. “Met him this summer.”
“That’s exciting,” the nurse said, and Peter opened his eyes to see her smiling warmly at him.
Peter shrugged. “It was scary, actually.” As soon as he finally believed Tony hadn’t actually known about him, hadn’t actually chosen to give up his parental rights… Peter had been terrified he’d sue May for custody or something. Take him away and never let him see May again. Tony had the means to hire lawyers, and the actual law on his side.
Though he could never answer May’s ‘and why would he do that?’ when she tried to calm him down.
Tony hadn’t done that, of course. Instead, he just invited Peter over once a week to build robots.
“He’s cool, though,” Peter mumbled after a second.
The nurse smiled at him and patted his shoulder. “You just rest. I’ll wake you when he gets here.”
“Kay.” She didn’t have to tell Peter twice.
All he wanted to do was sleep.
- - -
Tony sat in the legal office, his feet up on one of the lawyers’ desk as he pretended to be listening to whatever the heck it was Pepper was talking to the legal team about. Something something patent and copyright infringement something something.
He didn’t care. He paid people to care about this kind of stuff, so he didn’t have to.
It felt like a godsend when his phone started ringing, a good forty-five minutes into the stupid meeting.
“Tony,” Pepper sighed when she heard it.
“Oh come on,” Tony complained as he pulled his phone from his jacket pocket. “You know only the Parkers actually make my phone ring.” Sure enough, when he looked at the name on the screen, he saw May Parker.
He turned the screen toward Pepper, then pushed himself to his feet.
“Mrs. Parker,” he said, as he answered the phone and stepped outside. “I gotta say thanks for getting me out of a meeting with my lawyers.”
“Happy to be of service,” she said with a laugh. “I take it you aren’t too busy right now?”
“Nah. Everything alright?” Tony had texted Peter that morning, but never heard back.
That wasn’t too unusual for Peter, though. Sometimes he’d text back ten times in a row, a long, rambling story, and sometimes he responded with one word four hours later. Tony couldn’t figure out the rhyme or reason to it.
May sighed, then said, “Peter’s school called. He threw up and has a fever of 102.”
Tony paused. “Oh.” That was a pretty good excuse for ignoring Tony’s text.
“I’m out in West Babylon for training,” May explained, “I can’t get to him anytime soon, and if you’re able… I could stay here and finish the training. I need this certification.”
“If I’m able?” Tony echoed.
“To go get Peter.”
“Oh,” Tony said, feeling his heart flutter. “Yeah, yeah, of course. I’m just—I’m at the tower right now.”
“Good, I was hoping,” she said. “You don’t mind? He’s been throwing up.”
“No, of course not,” Tony said quickly. That was, that was part of being a dad, right? Dealing with his kid when he was gross? “Am I… allowed to pick him up?” Would the school even release Peter to him?
“You’re his father,” May said, in an amused huff.
“Right, yeah, but will the school let me?”
“I told them I was going to call you, so yes.”
Tony nodded absently. “Okay. Uh, and how does that work? Do I just show up?”
May laughed. “You walk in the front door and walk inside the office and tell the receptionist you’re Peter’s father and there to pick him up. She’ll direct you to the right place. You can’t go into the school without talking to her, anyway.”
“Okay, yeah. I’m on my way, I’ll let you know when I’ve got him.”
“Thanks, Tony,” May said warmly. “I won’t be back until late tonight.”
Tony paused. “Uh,” he stammered. “I can keep him overnight, if you want…”
“That would be very helpful,” May said. “Let me know if it seems more serious than a simple stomach bug.”
“Of course. I’ll keep you posted.” Tony ran a hand through his hair, then added. “Thanks for, uh, trusting me.”
“Go get our boy, Tony,” May said warmly. “I’ve got to get back to class.”
“Right, right, yeah. I’ll text you later.” Tony hung up the phone, then stuck his head back into the lawyer’s office.
Everyone’s eyes snapped to him in an instant, but Tony focused on just Pepper.
“Kid’s sick, I’ve got to go get him from school.”
“I suppose that’s a good excuse,” Pepper said, though she was looking at Tony fondly.
On his way down to the parking garage, he texted Happy, who, of course, appeared by his side by the time he made it to the car.
“He’s spending the night?” Happy asked as he unlocked the car.
“Yeah,” Tony said, as he slid into the passenger seat. “May won’t be back until late tonight, and he probably should just sleep.”
Happy sped the whole way to the school and stopped out front, all without looking up the address or using a GPS. Even though he’d never once been to the school before, as far as Tony knew. Tony only briefly wondered if Happy had researched where Peter’s school was before, or if he just knew where everything was in Manhattan. With Happy, it could go either way.
Tony climbed the stairs to the front door, and easily found the front office once inside. When he pushed open the office door, the receptionist looked up.
Then promptly just stared at him, mouth slightly agape.
“Hi,” Tony said, slipping his tinted glasses off and tucking them into his collar. “I’m here to pick up Peter.”
“Peter…?” she asked slowly.
“Parker,” he clarified. “Peter Parker. He’s my son.”
“Right,” she said, blinking. “May did say you were coming…” She visibly swallowed before finally turning toward her computer. Tony tried not to think too hard about that as she typed something, then reached over when the printer started going.
It was a visitor pass and sign-out slip, Tony saw when she held it out.
Tony grimaced, but reached out and took it from her, pinching the paper between two fingers.
“Do you know where the nurse’s office is?” she asked.
“Uh, no,” Tony said, as he gave the paper a once over, then tucked it into his jacket pocket.
“Walk through that door and turn right. Go down the hall, then turn right again. The office is right there.”
Tony nodded. “Okay, thanks.”
Once he was through the first door, he wiped his hand on his pant leg and quickly made his way through the halls. The nurse’s office was easy enough to find, and once he got there, he found the door open wide. He stepped into the doorway and knocked twice, getting the attention of two of the three occupants.
The third occupant was his son, and he was conked out on the bed. Tony had never seen him look so awful. He was pale and sweaty, his hair sticking to his forehead.
“Hello,” the nurse said when all Tony had done was stare at Peter. The other person in the room was some girl sitting in a chair in the corner, an ice pack balanced against her head. She was openly gawking at Tony.
“Hi,” Tony said, looking over at the nurse. “I’m here for that one.” He pointed at Peter.
“Of course,” the nurse said before stepping over to Peter and tapping him on the shoulder. “Peter, your dad is here.”
Peter slowly opened his eyes and blinked over at Tony with a glassy, unfocused gaze. “Oh, hi,” he mumbled, already shutting his eyes again.
“Hey, kid,” Tony said, keeping his voice gentle as he walked into the room. “Rough day, huh?”
Peter merely nodded.
“Come on, let’s get you out of here.” He set a hand on Peter’s back and held his other hand out in offering.
Peter opened his eyes, but instead pushed himself into a sitting position and slid off the cot, ignoring Tony’s hand.
Then he immediately stumbled.
“Easy there,” Tony murmured, quickly catching Peter’s upper arm.
“I gave him some Tylenol for the fever about half an hour ago,” the nurse said. “And he’s had a few sips of Pedialyte.”
“It was gross,” Peter mumbled, as he leaned heavily into Tony’s side.
Tony took the hint and adjusted his arm, so it was wrapped around Peter’s shoulder. “Alright. Thanks. Let’s get you home and in bed, Pete.”
“Mmm,” Peter hummed as he let Tony lead him out of the nurse’s office.
When he wasn’t even ten feet down the hall, he heard the girl in there ask the nurse, “That was Tony Stark, right?” but he couldn’t hear what the nurse said in response, if anything.
Tony sighed. He really hoped that didn’t turn into some kind of rumor Peter had to deal with…
“I didn’t know I could get sick,” Peter mumbled, still leaning heavily on Tony as they slowly walked out of the school.
“What do you mean?” Tony asked. May hadn’t made it sound like this was something extremely unusual on the phone.
Peter looked at him sideways, then averted his gaze again. “You know. Because of the spider.”
“Huh,” Tony said. They reached the front door, so he pushed it open and guided Peter outside. Once they were halfway down the stairs, and hopefully out of earshot of everyone, he said, “Do you want the Avengers’ doctor to look at you? She specializes in enhanced individuals…”
Peter considered it for so long, they reached the car before he spoke up.
Happy was standing outside the car and opened the door for them when Peter finally said, “If I almost die, then yeah sure, but not until then.”
“What the hell,” Happy said, shooting Tony an incredulous look.
“He doesn’t want to see Dr. Cho,” Tony said, as he gently helped Peter into the back seat.
“Okay, fine, but no talking about dying in my car,” Happy huffed.
Peter smiled faintly as he slid across the bench seat, so Tony could sit next to him. Happy shut the door behind him, then rounded the car to get back into the driver’s seat.
“You okay coming over to my place?” Tony asked Peter. “Or would you rather go to yours?”
Peter glanced over at him briefly, then looked away again, leaning his head against the window glass. “May’s not home,” he whispered, as he shut his eyes.
“I know,” Tony said, reaching over to squeeze Peter’s knee. “I’d stay there with you.”
That got Peter to open his eyes and look at Tony again. He studied him for a long moment, then shrugged as he lay back against the window. “I already told May I’d stay with you, so…”
Tony swallowed around the lump that had suddenly formed in his throat. He squeezed Peter’s knee again and said, “Okay.”
Happy glanced at them in the rearview mirror as he pulled away from the school. “What sort of foods do you eat when you’re sick, Pete?” he asked.
Peter made a vague humming noise, then grimaced, his arms tightening around his stomach. “I can’t think about food right now.”
Tony snorted softly. “That bad, huh?” he said, as he moved his hand from Peter’s knee, up to his forehead. It was hot, but not terribly so.
Really, Tony wasn’t fully sure what a dangerous fever felt like, like this. He moved his hand to Peter’s cheek, to see if that was any different.
He’d have to look that up later.
“Dad, stop,” Peter mumbled, pushing Tony’s hand away.
Tony’s heart fluttered, even as he backed off. “Sorry, bud, just checking.”
“I’ll Google it, then,” Happy said as he pulled into the garage of Stark Tower. “Get a little of everything. The BRAT diet, or whatever.”
“The BRAT diet for the brat,” Tony said with a smirk. “Fitting.”
“You’re not funny,” Peter mumbled.
“Excuse you, I’m hysterical,” Tony said lightly, while Happy pulled right up to the elevators. Tony opened his own door, and quickly rounded the car to open Peter’s door and carefully get him to his feet. “Come on, kid, let’s get you upstairs.”
Peter let Tony help him to the elevator and all the way to the couch up in the penthouse. He collapsed down immediately, curling up on his side into a little ball.
“Really? You’re putting your dirty shoes on my fifty-thousand-dollar couch?” Tony scoffed, though he was smiling as he went to get a pillow and blanket.
With a roll of his eyes, Peter kicked his two shoes off right onto the floor in front of the couch, then curled right back up. “Why would you spend that much money on a couch?” Peter asked. “Is it insured? Can you insure couches? If they cost more than cars? What if I puke all over it? Will that total your couch?”
“Well, you seem to be feeling a little better,” Tony said with a laugh, as he spread the blanket out over Peter and offered him the pillow.
“I’m just really offended by your couch,” Peter said. “It’s so ugly. What makes it so expensive?” He blinked slowly, then added, “Lying down feels better.”
“I’m glad, buddy,” Tony said, as he sat down next to Peter and absently adjusted the blanket around his shoulders. “And I haven’t the slightest clue. It’s not like I’m the one who buys my furniture.”
“Rich people are so weird,” Peter mumbled. “Can I have a drink?”
Tony huffed an amused sound and got back to his feet. “Why, you wanting to spill red Gatorade all over my couch?” He made his way over to the kitchen and opened the fridge. They, thankfully, had all sorts of drinks in there.
“Will that total it?” Peter asked. “I prefer the blue Gatorades. Do you have that?”
“Sure do,” Tony said, as he grabbed a blue one out. He opened his cupboard, too, and rifled through for a packet of crackers. Almost as an after thought, he pulled a water bottle from one of the cabinets and filled it up with the gatorade, so Peter could drink it while lying down.
A gesture that was clearly appreciated by Peter, because he immediately sucked down about a third of the bottle, all without sitting up.
“Whoa, kid, not too fast. Don’t want your stomach revolting.”
“It feels good on my throat,” Peter complained, but he did set the bottle down on the floor next to him, along with the unopened packet of crackers.
“Your throat hurts, too?”
“Mmmm,” Peter hummed as he shut his eyes and burrowed into his blanket and pillow. “I had a cough earlier, but now I don’t. It’s weird.”
Tony sat back down and set his hand on Peter’s forehead again. It felt warm, still, but maybe not as warm as earlier?
Then again, the nurse did say she gave him Tylenol. Maybe it was finally kicking in.
“Stop touching me,” Peter complained, pushing Tony’s hand off him. “You’re worse than May.”
Once again, Tony’s heart fluttered, even as he pulled away from Peter. Because yeah, on one hand Peter was pushing him away, but on the other…
He was worse than May. May, who might as well be his mother. Tony was in the same category of people in Peter’s head as May.
“FRIDAY, keep an eye on Peter’s temperature. Let us know if it rises from where it’s at now.”
“Peter’s temperature is currently 100.7 degrees Fahrenheit and trending downward,” FRIDAY reported.
“That’s freaky, how does she do that?” Peter asked, his eyes still closed.
“Lots of sensors all over the place,” Tony said, slinging his arm up on the couch behind Peter. “I’ll show you the coding once you’re feeling better.”
“Do you have Star Wars?” Peter asked, opening his eyes to look up at Tony. “I like to watch Star Wars when I’m sick.”
“Of course I have Star Wars,” Tony said with a scoff. “What do you take me for? Which episode?”
“Four,” Peter said easily. “And I didn’t know if people with fifty thousand dollar couches watched normal movies.”
“What would be an abnormal movie? Do you think there’s a secret Hollywood for the rich and famous?”
“There’s apparently secret couch stores,” Peter said, smiling faintly.
“I’m leaving you this couch in my will, since you like it so much,” Tony said. “It’s a family heirloom now. FRIDAY, put Star Wars Episode IV up on the TV.”
Peter looked back up at Tony, through his sweaty bangs, with an almost curious expression. His eyes were already much clearer-looking. Before Tony even realized he was doing it, he reached down and brushed the hair out of Peter’s eyes, then patted him on the shoulder.
“I wonder if your enhancements mean your immune system kills a virus a lot quicker than normal,” Tony mused aloud. “You’re improving really fast.”
Peter snuggled back into his blanket, inching slightly closer to Tony in doing so. “Could be,” he said. “I can still stay here tonight, right?”
Tony set his hand back on Peter’s shoulder and squeezed. “Kid, you’re welcome here any night. Don’t gotta be puking for that. In fact, I would prefer if you weren’t puking.”
Peter snorted, but simply whispered, “Cool.”
“Rest, kid,” Tony said softly, as he, too, settled back against the couch. “I’ll make you some soup once Happy gets back from buying out the Whole Foods.”
“I hope he doesn’t do that. That’s so wasteful,” Peter mumbled.
“Sleep, Pete,” Tony said, patting his hand still resting on Peter’s shoulder. “Let your body finish working.”
“Miso soup is my favorite,” Peter said, eyes drifting closed again. “I hope Happy gets that.”
Tony slipped his phone out with his free hand and shot off a text to Happy, as he said, “I’m sure he will.” And if he didn’t, Tony would have it delivered from the closest restaurant with it.
But a second later, Happy replied, ‘on it,’ so that wouldn’t be necessary.
“Thanks for coming to get me,” Peter whispered after a few minutes had passed with only the sound of Star Wars to pass the time. “This is really nice.”
Tony’s throat closed up for a full minute, and all he could do was squeeze Peter’s shoulder again.
Peter didn’t seem to mind, though. He melted into the couch, going fully limp under Tony’s hand, as his breathing evened out.
And Tony was struck by just how much trust this child had in him, now. Six months ago, Tony had thought he’d never earn Peter’s trust. He’d thought any chance of a relationship with his son at all was completely ruined.
But now.
“I love you, Pete,” Tony rasped. “I’ll always come get you, you can count on that.”
A tiny smile flickered on Peter’s face as he whispered, “Good.”
Yes. It was very good.