The bane of Peter's existence is being sick.
Really! Like, what’s the point? It just makes you miserable for no reason.
He used to get sick all the time but thankfully after the spider bite he stopped getting sick.
Or so he thought..
’Cause now he’s laying in bed awake at 6:23 a.m in the morning absolutely hating life at the moment. Seriously who invented this whole being sick thing? Why does his body have to hate him so much? Being sick is like, the worst thing to be invented--and there's a lot of bad inventions.
Groaning he turned over in bed, his stomach doing flips as he did.
God he’s gonna throw up.
“Pete you okay in there? You have to leave for school soon. I made breakfast if you want?” May knocked on the door softly. Usually he’s out of bed way before this cause he likes to shower as early as he can. But today he is just not up for it.
“I’m not feeling too good May..” Peter admitted. The door was already being opened halfway through the sentence at the sound of Peter’s scratchy voice.
May came over and sat on the edge of his bed, laying the back of her hand over his head. Her face scrunched as soon as she felt the heat radiating off. ”Yeah, you’re not going to school today.”
At his defeated look she raised an eyebrow, “tell me you’re getting out of this bed and going to school Pete. You look like death warmed over.” May shook her head amusedly and stood up to go get the thermometer from the bathroom.
Reluctantly he took the thermometer and put it under his tongue. He didn't even need to look at the temp it displayed because the look on his aunts face was enough.
”102.3 degrees..” she pursed her lips in worry and Peter couldn’t help but feel a little bad for worrying her. “Alright. Ptomise me you’ll stay in bed? And if it gets any worse, you call me. Got it?” May ran a hand through his hair and he leaned into the cool touch.
”I promise, May.” Peter said tiredly, pulling up the blankets further around him. He felt like he was freezing. Another reason he hated being sick. It's like the hottest day ever outside and he feels like he's been dunked in freezing cold water!
May seemed relieved and leaned to press a kiss to his forehead.
”Thanks Pete. There’s some leftovers in the fridge when you get hungry and I bought some of your favorite snacks last night on my way home from work. Promise you’ll get something to eat eventually?”
”Promise.” Peter promised again. He felt like he couldn’t move without his stomach doing flips and his head was killing him. He didn't feel like moving but also knew May would hound on him if he didn't at least try to eat.
Maybe if he's lucky he can sleep the whole thing off and he’ll be better in time to still go to Mr. Starks for lab day. And he can knock eating off the list and get something before he leaves. May won't be back until late tonight so it'll work out. But then again he doesn't want to call Happy and ask him to come get him.. he'll have questions no doubt as to why he isn't at school. And then a lecture from Mr. Stark.
Guess lab day is off then.
Oh well, he could use the rest.
Oh shit wait his spanish test is today—
“Alright, try and get some rest okay? There’s some medicine in the cabinet if you need any.”
Peter winced. Normal medicine didn't really work on him given the whole Spider-Man thing.. but May doesn't know that and she doesn't need another reason to worry today. Besides he's lived without medicine before he'll be fine. Usually sleeping off the sickness works best for him.
May wasn’t even out of his room before she turned around, “you sure you’ll be fine alone?”
”I’m sure May. Don’t worry about me i’ve been sick and taken care of myself plenty of times before.” Peter offered her a tired smile and his aunt sighed in defeat. “Alright.. if you say so. No Spider-Man today either okay? I swear you'll be grounded if you do." Peter withered under her fierce look--remembering what happened last time he didn't listen. He'd gone out with a broken wrist and May had grounded him from the labs for a week! "I promise May, Mr. Stark would kill me if I did."
"That'd make two of us. Thanks sweetie! Ill try and be back early tonight, maybe we can watch a movie together!"
As soon as she was gone Peter groaned again. Turning restlessly in bed he become tangled in his covers.
Being sick sucks. This doesn’t even feel like the normal flu.
Even his mouth hurt! It felt like something was stabbing into his gums and his mouth just felt numb altogether. His whole body ached.
Screwing his eyes shut he shoved his head down into his pillow, practically begging to everything holy to let him fall asleep.
Thankfully, his wish was granted..
And when he next woke up.. he felt.. off?
Frowning he blinked a few times and sat up sluggishly.
His mouth still felt numb but it didnt hurt anymore.. so thats a win? Peter's limbs felt like lead though and he had a horrible headache. Maybe he should try eating like May said.
Stretching his arms he swung his legs off his bed and almost fell face flat on the floor as a dizzy spell rushed over him.
Okay, maybe he’s still not too good.
Throwing a hand up to cover his mouth he ignored the pain it solicited on his teeth and stumbled out of his room and to the bathroom.
As soon as Peter was hunched over the toilet he started gagging.
When he was done puking he fell back against the bathtub and held a hand over his stomach.
Fuck, this sucks. Has he mentioned it sucks yet? Cause this sucks.
When Peter was sure he could stand without throwing up again he practically dragged himself back to his room. Grabbing his phone he checked the time.
Peter wanted to cry.
5:42 p.m.
His anxiety spiked when he noticed the influx of texts from both Happy and Mr. Stark.
Oh god Mr. Stark must be pissed--and Happy’s gonna kill him! He never texted Happy he wouldn’t be at school, so the bodyguard was probably waiting forever just for Peter not to show up!
And as if this day couldn’t get any worse Mr. Stark’s contact lit up his screen as another call came through.
Accepting his fate Peter accepted the call and put it on speaker.
”Kid what the hell. What have you been doing this whole time? Happy went to your school and said you never showed up, and then he tries and contacts you and you ignore him so he texts me. Then, you have the audacity to ignore my texts and calls too! No one ignores Tony Starks calls. I ignore people.” Mr. Stark let out an annoyed sigh. “So what you’re just gonna be silent? Talk to me kid what the hells going on?”
” ‘orry Mr. ‘ark..” Peter immediately screwed his mouth shout again when his voice came out a mumbled mess.
There was silence over the line for a while before Mr. Stark spoke again, “Pete, what the fuck. Where are you?” Worry slipped into the billionaire's voice and Peter couldn’t help but feel bad. He didn’t mean to worry the man over something as simple as being sick. “I’m ‘ust sick.. don’ worry.”
”I’m worried. You sound like shit, no offense. Where’s Auntie Hottie?”
Peter didn’t even feel like trying to correct Mr. Stark on the name, simply shrugging despite the other not being able to see it. “She’s at ‘ork. Left a—a while.. ago..” another dizzy spell hit him and Peter coughed violently. His phone slipped out of his hand and onto the ground--resulting in a large ‘thump.’
”I’m.. I’m fine tho’ Mr. Stark,” Peter choked out as he rolled onto his side and stared at his phone. The man on the other end being oddly silent. “Sorry about..” he swallowed his nausea, “not.. sh’wing up.. I’ll apologize ‘o Hap..”
Mr. Stark sighed. “I’m not worried about you not showing up kid, I’m worried about you! I’ll be over soon. Don’t try and go anywhere.” Peter frowned but didn't dignify that with a response. Rolling back onto his back Peter stared up at the ceiling from his bedroom floor.
This is the worst day ever.
So embarrassing.
Can this qualify to go on his list of why Peter hates being sick? Now Mr. Stark is coming over and it’s gonna be so embarrassing. His mentor doesn’t need to see him like this--weak and pathetic. Seriously.. Peter's a hero! he should be able to deal with being sick by himself and not have someone take care of him.
”Alright, still won’t talk?” Mr. Stark deadpanned. “You’re giving me grey hairs kid.” The older probably expected Peter’s normal response of ‘you’ve always had them, old man’ but instead all he got from Peter was a small “sorry..”
That only seemed to succeed in worrying his mentor more.
Peter didn’t hear what Mr. Stark said next but he heard the familiar ‘beep’ of the call ending.
Laying on his floor a few more moments he dragged himself to hit feet and back to the bathroom.
Gathering all his strength he looked up in the mirror. Damn, he looked like shit too.
Peter's skin was a deathly white parlor and his eyes were sunken in with dark bags. He looks worse than Mr. Stark after a few late nights in the lab and that says something! Not only that but his hair was wild and untamed, sticking up in multiple places.
Peter felt a frown tug at his lips but he flinched at the movement.. right, his teeth.
Why the hell do they hurt so much? Teeth hurting when you’re sick isn’t like.. normal, right?
Whatever.
Forcing his mouth into a smile Peter’s eyes widened as soon as he saw a set of fangs.
Oh god he's gonna pass out.
He has fucking fangs!
What the fuck. He has fangs!
Hesitantly Peter raised a hand and felt around them. His gums were sore and his teeth felt a little sensitive but nothing else seemed wrong or broken. That's a plus, right?
An odd urge to chew on something took over most his senses. Peter's fangs throbbed with pain.
So.. he’s turning into even more of a spider?
That’d be the only explanation for this, right?
Oh gods wait he’s not gonna grow extra arms or something, right?
Y'know when he said he loved being Spider-Man he didn't mean he wanted to be an actual spider!
Peter raised his shirt and hesitantly poked around his ribs. He was satisfied when he didn’t see any bumps or possible newly growing limbs.
He probably would’ve passed out if there was.
Slowly Peter's senses gradually urged him more and more to find something to chew on, and eventually Peter couldn’t ignore it anymore and stuck his hand into his mouth, blood spilling almost instantly as the fangs made contact with skin.
Wincing at the taste of iron Peter removed his hand and looked disgustedly at the blood flowing down from the two puncture wounds. They're strong enough to break skin. That's great.
Sighing he gave in and finally he gathered up the strength to go to the kitchen. Peter decidedly ignoring on fixing his bleeding hand. The want of needing something to chew on being the more prevelant thought.
Sorting through the cabinets he eventually came up with a a wooden spoon—probably won’t break.. maybe? If anything he can go out and buy May a new one. She’d never have to now about.. any of this.
Sticking the spoon into his mouth similar to how he did his hand Peter clamped down his fangs and instantly felt relief.
He relaxed deeper into the couch and tried not to think about how weird the situation is.
A knock came at the apartment door, “Peter!”
Oh yeah, Mr. Stark—
Looking sadly at the spoon he threw it to the side for now and reluctantly went over to the door. Peter only opened it a sliver, just enough to see the billionaire standing outside. “I’m fine Mr. Stark, really. You can go now, you’ve checked in and all..”
”Kid I can barely even see you.” Mr. Stark deadpanned. “And while you don't sound drunk anymore you still sound like shit. Do I need to text May?”
”No!” Peter flung the door open the rest of the way. “Whatever.. whatever you do just don’t call May!”
Mr. Stark’s widened as soon as he saw him. “Holy shit you look horrible too. What happened to your eyes? Why are your irises black?” A frown overtook the olders face as he looked Peter up and down--probably for looking any hidden injuries.
Wait what his eyes are black? “Huh,” Peter said, dumbfounded. “My eyes are brown.”
”That’s what I’m—okay, no, hold the phone. Smile for me.”
Peter frowned, “uh.. why?”
”Don’t question me just do it.”
“I’m so fucked..” grimacing Peter hesitantly smiled for his mentor, wincing at the horror and surprise that flickered across the former’s face in a matter of seconds.
“Peter. You have fangs!" Mr. Stark pointed out the obvious. “Why the fuck do you have fangs? Tell me it’s some sort of costume kid.”
”They’re not a costume.” Peter snapped with hostility as his eyes narrowed and he took a defensive step back. A sense of calm flooded over him and Peter's eyes widened as he realized what he’d said. “I.. I’m sorry Mr. Stark, I didn’t mean to get mad..”
”Right..” Mr. Stark drawed out, also looking a little surprised at the sudden outburst.
The older pushed into the apartment and ushered us both off to the living room—while we were sitting down Mr. Stark saw my hand—“what the hell happened there?” Mr. Stark reached out and took Peter's hand, grabbing kleenexes from the nearby table and pressing them to the two wounds.
"Okay whats happening kid? How did this happen?"
”So basically I woke up this morning feeling really sick, and I haven’t been sick since the spider bite! May just had to come and annoy me though—“ Peter paused at his tone. "I mean she came and checked on me. And then I went to bed and woke up like this. To make it worse, of course, you just had to call me!”
A surprised look washed over Mr. Starks face.
”I had this sudden urge to chew on something and I bit my hand--it helped a lot with my fangs and just--god I don’t know!”
”Oookay.” Mr. Stark held up his hands placatatingly. “You keep doing that. Why do you keep doing that? You’re getting all angry for no reason kid.”
”I DON’T KNOW, OKAY!?” Peter snapped.
His breathing felt heavy and he turned his gaze to the floor—maybe if Peter just doesn’t look he won’t get mad. Why's he even mad in the first place?
“Pete. Look at me.”
”I don’t want to look at you, just go away. I don’t want you here.” Peter crossed his arms and slouched further down into the couch.
Deep down Peter felt horrible for how he was treating Mr. Stark. But it felt like he couldn't even control his own body or emotions and it was freaking him out!
”Peter,” Mr. Stark said again as he appeared in his vision, crouching down in front of him.
”I need you to talk to me kid. You woke up like this? Fangs and all?” He gestured at Peter and Peter just nodded, not trusting himself enough to speak.
“Okay.. and the fangs is all, right? No other spidery things I should know about?”
Peter shook his head.
”Good. So, the fangs—“ Mr. Stark trailed off and searched over his face for a second, “i’m gonna assume they’re making you angry for some reason?”
Peter shrugged.
”Alright. You need to see Bruce. For your mood and your hand. Who knows if those fangs of yours are poisonous or not?”
”No way!” Peter suddenly sat up straight, stiff as a board.. but as quickly as the anger had come it was replaced with sadness.
“I uh.. I don’t want to bother Bruce or anything.” Tears pricked at the back of Peter's eyes. “I hate being a bother, Mr. Stark.” In no time he was full on sobbing and Mr. Stark had him wrapped in his arms.
”Woah, woah, woah—this is completely out of left field, Pete. You’re not a burden to anyone, we’ve been over this. We're going to Bruce wether you like it or not at the moment. It's obvious this is affecting you in some way and we need to figure it out.”
“Fine.” Peter choked out, already feeling done with life. He wanted nothing more than to curl up into a ball right now and never be seen again.
Having fangs sucks, Peter decides. And he hasn't even had them that long!
“Okay, that’s a start! Let's get you out to my car.”
It’s safe to say it took a while to get out to Mr. Stark’s car—and was an even longer ride to the compound with Peter’s sudden outbursts then return to normality every few minutes.
Both were tired by the time they did make it to the compound and up to the med bay.
Bruce seemed worried as he took blood samples—while there had been some yelling and struggling on that part from Peter in a bought of anger it did eventually happen. Bruce also made sure to check his heartbeat and temperature.
“Well, he shows no sign of the common flu or anything of the sorts. His temp is good, though his blood sugar looks dangerously low." Bruce frowned. “You were at team dinner and ate perfectly fine last night. What have you eaten today?”
Peter hunched in on himself.
”Pete.” Mr. Stark gave him a certified dad look.
”I haven’t ate anything. I didn’t feel well.” Peter admitted numbly. “I felt like I would’ve thrown it all up if I tried to eat. I promise I would’ve ate eventually though!”
Mr. Stark sighed, “you have a fast metabolism, you know this. You can’t go without eating. Epecially with..” the billionare gestured at Peter, “..new developments.”
”I know.” Peter snapped for the millionth time. Then once again hunched back down and averted his gaze sheepishly. “Sorry.” Peter apologized, also for the millionth time already. He feels tired.
Bruce frowned worriedly.
”The blood results are back, Dr. Banner. Would you like to see them?” Friday spoke in the ensuing silence.
Bruce seemed relieved to be saved from the awkard situation, “yes please Friday.”
Looking down at his tablet Bruce crolled through what Friday had sent, seemingly calming more and more as he continued reading.
“Well Peter looks like you’re gonna be all good!” Bruce smiled up at him and Mr. Stark. “Your hormones are out of wack at the moment from your fangs, causing hunger and drowsiness. Also the reason for your outbursts.'
”So like a spider puberty?” Mr. Stark said amusedly.
”Mr. Stark!” Peter whined, crossing his arms petulantly. Mr. Stark laughed and just shook his head, patting Peter’s leg over the hospital sheets. “Sorry kid. But seriously, how long does this last doc?”
”The worst probably only for today.” Bruce concluded. "While he might still have small outbursts occasionally as his body adjusts to the fangs they won’t be as severe as today. Just make sure he gets a lot of food and some good rest tonight. Also, he should try chewing on something, it should relieve some of the pain he’s feeling in his teeth.”
”I tried that.” Peter said. “It helped some.”
”Good,” Bruce nodded, “that’s what we’d like.”
Bruce then turned to Mr. Stark, “I won’t give him any medication just in case he has an averse reaction to it due to his body already fighting against him. It's best to let it work itself out, especially considering we don’t know much about his spider side." Bruce was pulling up some charts and spinning it around to show to to Mr. Stark.
"And, if you wouldn’t mind, to maybe avoid future issues like this I’d like Peter to come in when he feels ready so we can do some tests. Nothing harmful I promise! Just so we can see what those fangs can do. While I’m sure they’re not poisonous since his hands fine it wouldn’t hurt to look more into.”
”Wait, and what about his eyes?” Mr. Stark questioned, eyes flicking away from the charts to Peter's face.
Bruce studied Peter’s eyes for a second and seemed helpless at the question.
“I’m not sure honestly. Nothing in Friday’s report sensed anything wrong that could’ve affected his eyes. I’m guessing it’s just another part of his spider traits that kicked through, but it wouldn’t hurt to also test that as well to make sure it hasn’t affected his vision any. Though it seemed like it hasn’t so far, right?”
Peter nodded.
Bruce put his hands into his pockets. “He should be fine for now then, at least until he visits again and we can do more thorough checks. Is that alright with you two?” Bruce looked between the two.
Mr. Stark looked at Peter and he nodded—the billionaire turned to look back at Bruce, “that’ll work, thanks Bruce.”
”..Thanks Mr. Banner.” Peter choked out a second later.
Bruce smiled fondly, "no problem Peter. Just try and lay off going out as Spider-Man for a bit, okay? Have a good rest of your day guys, I'll tell Steve you two can't make it to team diner?.." Bruce raised an eyebrow at Mr. Stark who nodded, "yep, thanks Brucie Bear!"
"Alright then, see you guys tomorrow!" Bruce grabbed his things and powered off all the left on equipment before leaving.
When the door closed behind the avenger Mr. Stark turned back to Peter.
”So,” he started, “what do you say we get you something to chew on and order chinese? Then we can watch a Star Wars movie of your choice,” his mentor nudged him in the side with a smile and Peter couldn’t help but smile himself as he slowly relaxed.
”I’d like that..”
”Good, cause I was gonna make you eat either way, now up you go—“ Mr. Stark practically dragged Peter up from the hospital bed and threw an arm around Peter's shoulder, leading him out to the common room where they put on a movie and snuggled under heaps of blankets after they’d eaten the promised chinese food.
Eventually Peter yawned and leaned into Mr. Stark’s side.
”Tired, kid?”
”Yeah.” Peter croaked, closing his eyes and nuzzling his face into the older’s shoulder, pulling up the blankets to his chin.
Mr. Stark only laughed, turning the tv down lower and settling down more into the couch, putting a hand into Peter’s hair and rubbing slow relaxing motions.
As soon as he was sure Peter was sleep Mr. Stark pressed a kiss to Peter's head, “night Pete.”
The billionare relaxed himself, closing his eyes and leaning his head back on the couch—hand eventually becoming lax in his mentees hair as he himself fell asleep.
If that’s how the rest of the avengers found them the previous morning—well, they said nothing..
But they did have a few more photos of blackmail on the two.
And sure, Peter had some more small outbursts over the course of adjusting to his fangs, or having to explain the fangs to May and his friends—but no one held it against him.
Some made a spider joke every now and again and then laughed it off with Peter before they continued like normal.
Everything would be okay.
Even if Peter was ten percent more spidery than he was before.