Blankets and Soups
Peter dragged himself into the Avengers Tower with his usual wide-eyed enthusiasm noticeably dimmed, his shoulders slumping as he stifled a cough.
Tony’s gaze sharpened the second Peter walked in. “Whoa, hold up, kid,” Tony called from across the lab. “Did you forget what sleep looks like? Or are you coming down with something?”
Peter waved a dismissive hand. “It’s just a little cold, Mr. Stark. Barely a scratch,” he replied, his voice slightly hoarse.
Tony’s eyebrows shot up. "Barely a scratch, huh? Because you look like the walking definition of ‘I shouldn’t be here.’” He crossed his arms, determined to get to the bottom of this, but Peter’s half-hearted grin wasn’t fooling anyone.
“Really, I’m fine,” Peter protested, though the slight sway in his stance said otherwise. Tony put a steadying hand on Peter’s shoulder, frowning.
“You’re coming with me,” Tony decided. “We’re heading to the medbay, no ifs, ands, or buts.”
Peter groaned, but with Tony herding him along, he didn’t stand a chance.
The sterile, quiet medbay was soon transformed into something else entirely. Tony fussed with Peter’s blankets, wrapping him up like a burrito and squinting at the thermometer.
"102.5?" Tony exclaimed. “Kid, this is not a little cold; you’re practically a toaster oven.”
Peter grinned sheepishly, trying to make light of it. “Maybe I’m developing some kind of super-fever… Part of the spider-bite upgrade?”
Tony wasn’t amused. “You know what part of the ‘upgrade’ you’re getting right now? The ‘listen to your mentor when he tells you to stay in bed’ part.”
Just then, Bruce Banner wandered in, apparently drawn by the commotion. “What’s with all the noise?” Bruce asked, his usual calm demeanor holding an amused glint as he looked between Tony and Peter.
Tony gestured to Peter, who now looked like a slightly annoyed mummy under his blanket. “Our friendly neighborhood Spider-Man here thinks it’s a good idea to walk around the Tower with a fever,” he said, exasperation lacing his voice.
Bruce chuckled, giving Peter a mock-sympathetic look. “Rough day, huh?”
Peter sighed, shrugging under his cocoon of blankets. “Yeah, but Mr. Stark’s, like, preparing me for hibernation. Isn’t this overkill?”
“Not a chance, Underoos,” Tony replied firmly. “You’re not going anywhere until that fever drops.”
Bruce patted Peter’s shoulder and said, “Take it from someone who’s had to deal with Tony’s ‘nurturing’ before: just let him have his way. It’ll make him feel better, even if you’re stuck under a mountain of blankets.”
Word spread quickly through the Tower, and soon the Avengers trickled into the medbay to check in on the patient.
Steve entered first, setting down a thermos of homemade chicken soup. “I heard you weren’t feeling well, so I made you this,” he said, his smile kind but a little too earnest.
Peter accepted it with a weak grin, taking a tentative sip. “This is… uh, healthy,” he managed, trying to mask his reaction to the vegetable-heavy recipe.
Natasha slipped in behind him, holding a mug of herbal tea. “Drink this,” she commanded, her tone leaving no room for argument.
“Thanks, Nat,” Peter replied, feeling more awkward by the minute under all the attention. “Really, you don’t all have to—”
Natasha’s glare silenced him, so he obediently took a sip.
Clint appeared next, balancing a stack of comic books on one hand. “If they’re gonna make you sit around, at least you should have some entertainment. I picked these out from my personal stash.”
Peter’s eyes lit up, excitement momentarily overshadowing his discomfort. “Thanks, Clint!”
Finally, a nurse—one of Tony’s new hires—came in, trying to restore order. “Alright, if he’s sick, maybe we should all step back and let him rest?”
The Avengers ignored her, arguing among themselves over the best “recovery” methods. Clint insisted that laughter was the best medicine, while Steve argued for his high-protein soup. Natasha simply glared at anyone making noise near Peter, threatening them with a look that even Tony had to respect
After most of the team had dispersed, Tony returned with enough supplies to stock a small hospital room. He placed a top-of-the-line humidifier by Peter’s bed, adjusted the temperature-regulating blankets, and even set up a small, automated bot with a tissue dispenser.
Peter watched all this with wide eyes. “Mr. Stark, I think a box of tissues would have done the trick.”
“Just relax, Parker,” Tony replied, waving him off. “Do you want tissues on demand or not?” He settled onto a stool beside Peter’s bed, crossing his arms. “This is all standard procedure when you’re part of the team.”.
Peter rolled his eyes but secretly felt a rush of warmth. It wasn’t often someone went out of their way to take care of him like this.
With the room finally quiet, Tony softened, his eyes crinkling in that way they did when he was hiding something he actually cared about. “Kid, you know you don’t have to downplay stuff like this, right? You’re allowed to need help.”
Peter’s voice was a murmur, nearly lost as his eyes grew heavier. “Yeah, I know, Mr. Stark… I love you too.”
Tony hid a smile behind his hand. “Rest up, Parker. You’ll need all your strength for the lecture you’re getting once you’re better.”
After a long nap, Peter awoke to find Thor hovering by his bed with a strange-looking vial. “I bring Asgardian medicine!” Thor boomed, uncorking the vial. An herbal, sour scent filled the room, and Peter grimaced.
“Uh… thanks, Thor, but I think I’ll just stick to regular medicine,” Peter said, casting a pleading look at Tony.
Tony immediately stepped in, placing a protective arm between Peter and the “medicine.” “Thanks, Point Break, but I think Asgardian remedies might be a bit too… robust for our human friend here.”
Thor raised his eyebrows, as if the idea of too much strength was foreign to him. “Very well,” he said, though he seemed unconvinced.
As Peter drifted off again, Tony sat by his side, feeling a strange sense of peace. “You know, kid, you’re going to give me a heart attack one day with how much you push yourself.”
Bruce’s voice piped in from the door. “Already acting like a dad, Stark?”
Tony’s only response was a small, contented smile as he watched Peter rest.
And as Peter finally slipped into a peaceful sleep, surrounded by the warmth of family he never expected, Tony knew one thing for sure: he’d do this a thousand times over if it meant keeping Peter safe.