Chapter 2
Instead of his school alarm, Peter awoke the next morning to Tony and Bruce talking at the end of his bed.
Peter was blinking away exhaustion as Tony turned to him just as Bruce left.
Tony sat next to Peter and placed his hand to Peter's forehead, then face, then neck. Peter squirmed uncomfortably in response.
"We're gonna keep you here today, alright? I already called May, and you're gonna rest," Tony said quietly. He stood up and shut the curtains.
"Mr. Stark- no! I'm fine!" Peter protested while propping himself up on his elbows. The one small movement made his head spin.
"I'm serious, Pete. Don't argue with me on this one," Tony sternly chided. "I'm gonna bring you some toast and water so you can take some medicine."
"'Kay, thank you," Peter lied back down in defeat and recalled his previous interaction with Loki. It all felt like a fever dream. Was it?
A God, who previously tried to take over earth, made him soup and tea.
It all felt like too much to wrap his head around, though there really wasn't much to it.
There were a few quick knocks on his door before Tony entered with buttered toast and a glass of ice water.
Peter nodded and accepted the small meal. Tony placed two white tablets on his nightstand.
"You wanna tell me how Reindeer Games found out you're sick?"
If he had the strength, Peter would explain in deep detail about what happened last night. His throat and energy wouldn't let him.
"I woke up in the middle of the night, got up, and found Loki in the kitchen," Peter settled for. He took a small bite of the toast.
"That's all there is to it?" Tony questioned.
Peter shrugged, "Yep."
Tony sighed, "Alright, me or Bruce will come check on you a little later."
"Got it,"
Tony turned the light off and closed the door behind him when he left.
Peter forced himself to finish the toast, though he didn't have an appetite and was disgusted at food. Afterwards, he took the pills Tony gave him. After laying back down, however, he couldn’t find himself able to fall asleep or even relax.
Whatever the medication was supposed to do, it was slacking on its job. Beads of sweat were scattered across Peter’s forehead.
After half an hour of lying feverishly on his bed, Peter felt the uncomfortable but familiar feeling of his throat feeling uncomfortable and mouth filling with saliva. Lethargically but quickly he sat up and stumbled to the connected bathroom, quickly leaning over the toilet and waiting.
Peter hated feeling sick, he hated how he felt small again. He hated how he was a teenager yet wanted to be taken care of like he was four again.
Nothing came up, which resulted in him leaning back and pressing his face against the cold porcelain of the bathtub and accepting defeat with his eyes closing.
Peter could have sworn he was only out for a few minutes before waking up again to a cold, damp cloth to his forehead. He opened his eyes and saw three figures in front of him.
“How could you allow him to become this ill?”
“It’s only been a few hours.”
“104.2.”
The boy groaned and tried to sit up to get more comfortable and identify the persons.
Bruce was next to him, Tony and Loki were in front of him, speaking.
“Hey guys,” Peter’s voice sounded hoarse as he managed a greeting.
“Do better, Stark,” Loki concluded whatever conversation before vanishing. While Peter couldn’t really see it, he knew Tony had rolled his eyes.
“How’re you feeling, kid?” Tony asked, as if it were obvious from him passing out in the bathroom with a fever.
“Like crap,” Peter responded.
“Hey, we say shit around here!” Even in the moment of having a sick teen in front of him, Tony still joked around.
“Not the time, Tony…” Bruce said.
“Oh c’mon, he’s sick, not dying.”
“Well I’m not actually sure how the virus he has affects him as an enhanced kid,” Bruce confusedly said, removing his glasses. Suddenly, Peter was a little more alert.
“I’m dying?!”
“No- that’s not what we’re saying, Peter. Just…” Bruce looked to Tony for help,
“Confused…-” Tony said.
“Worried!” Bruce added.
Though, both words sounded like a sugar coated term for “You’ve got a week left to live,” to the sick boy. Tony helped Peter stand and walk over to his bed. Bruce continued speaking, even if he were unsure how much Peter actually understood.
“Your fever is high, and we didn’t know you could get sick because of the whole spider bite thing. Until I can figure something out, Tony and I would prefer for you to rest for the next few days,” Bruce advised.
Tony continued from Bruce’s advice, “Relax, don’t stress or anything.”
Alright, yeah, don’t stress about having a high fever and a virus you thought was impossible to catch. Easy, cool.
“We’ll work on some form of medicine, hopefully it’ll be ready by tomorrow morning.”
“And by ‘we,’ he means I make the medication, and he talks to me so I don’t get too bored,” Bruce smiled a little in hopes to lift some of the stress on Peter’s shoulder. His attempts did not work.
Tony waved Bruce off dismissively before turning and walking out of the door.
“Call us if anything happens. Y’know, you get better… worse… hopefully better.”
“Got it, thanks Mr. Bruce.”