Don't do Purple Mystery Stuff
He didn’t mean for this to happen.
God, he really screwed up this time.
“M’st’r St’rk?” He popped open the singular window that F.R.I.D.A.Y always left unlocked for him and attempted to stick down the wall. It didn’t exactly work out how he wanted it to, because he more… tumbled… through the window, well that and getting a mouthful of carpet. “Mmm…” he began to call for his mentor again, but his vision clouded for a moment and he gripped the wall for support.
“Hello Peter, would you like me to alert Sir of your arrival?” The A.I’s voice fizzled as his hearing swayed in and out under the ringing in his skull, but thankfully he managed a nod before his hand on the wall slipped and he was facedown against the floor for the second time. Somehow, he couldn’t find the strength to get back up this time.
“Hey kid, F.R.I said you came in through the window agai –” the tapping stopped, and Peter was barely coherent enough to register that they were Tony’s footsteps. “Pete, what happened?” A weight dropped next to him and he could feel something touching his sides and rolling him over, so he faced the ceiling.
Maybe that’s why he couldn’t breathe that easily? Had he been facedown?
“Guy w’th gas… n’ stuck… kinda funny feelin’?” He was slurring almost unintelligibly now, but the hands were still moving, touching his neck, his forehead, reaching underneath him and tugging so the carpet wasn’t there anymore. “Wha’ you doin’?”
“Shh, kid, I’m getting Bruce and we’re just gonna take a trip to the Med Bay.” Peter vaguely recognised the sensation of the elevator moving and then everything fizzled out again until he was fading back to consciousness to the feeling of sheets underneath him and the prick of a needle.
“Oww, not v’ry nice…” He wriggled on the bed and almost immediately felt hands on his shoulders, steadying him.
“Hey Pete, that’s just Bruce getting some blood, so we can see what’s happening. Can you tell me any more about the, uh – the gas?” He groaned as his head pounded and he couldn’t help but shuffle around some more.
“Guy n’ a mask… made some purple gas, n’ m’ head hurt… woke up n’ came here.” He didn’t open his eyes, but it was like he could feel Tony checking him over with his gaze. He heard a vaguely familiar voice and then the weight beside him was shuffling towards the call and away from him. There was a whispered discussion which he was too out of it to even bother listening in. He must have passed out again or fallen asleep because there were hands on his face, they were warm and calloused. “M’st’r St’rk… b – bin please,” he could feel his skin throbbing and burning, and although the warm hands were comforting, the heat that radiated from them soon felt unbearable.
“Bin? What do you mean kid?” He squirmed away from the hands and whined as his body protested the movement and his eyes snapped open as his stomach rolled.
“Bin!” He reached his arms out despite the ache and sat himself up, clenching his mouth shut and trying to breathe heavily through his nose.
“Here,” Bruce shoved a bowl onto his lap while Tony’s brain finally caught up and he realised what Peter had been asking for. The teen retched, and the contents of his stomach emptied as he shivered feverishly. “I need to run some tests, stay with him and call me if anything changes. Anything.” Footsteps exited the room and Peter was left with Tony’s hand rubbing small circles, high on his back while he tried to settle his stomach unsuccessfully.
“M’ not feelin’ that nice…” he coughed weakly and his body tilted forward. A hand on his chest slowed him as the bowl was moved away and his eyes slid back shut.
“I know, Bruce is running some tests kid, you’ll be okay soon.” A damp washcloth dragged against his forehead and he leaned into the coolness, whining tiredly as the pillow was propped up underneath him. “F.R.I, bring up Karen’s suit cam,” there were sounds that Peter recognised as himself web-slinging, but then he was falling asleep to the sound of windows breaking and the eerie hiss of gas leaking into the room he had previously stood in.
----
“I don’t know, okay? I just… I’m not sure right now Tony. The tests came back positive, but I couldn’t identify what the hell that stuff was, he isn’t getting any worse so –”
“Well he isn’t getting any better either Bruce, whatever that gas was, we need to get it out of his system before it gets to his head because… I – I don’t have any idea what’ll happen if it does.” There was a pause, something like fabric rustling, test tubes ratting.
“It’s moving fast Tony… I don’t know how to stop it, everything I can think of won’t work with his DNA makeup.” The was a soft noise, almost like someone trying to conceal a sniffle, then a hand was on his and it squeezed gently.
“We’re going to figure it out, he’s going to be fine.” He wanted to squeeze back, but it hurt to move, and his head was throbbing horribly. “He’ll be okay, he will.” The washcloth was back against his forehead, but it didn’t feel good any more, he shivered involuntarily, and everything was too cold.
“Mm… s’ cold,” he groaned and tried to pull away but before he could, the cloth was moving off him and being replaced by a warm hand.
“Bruce his temp’s gone down heaps, it – he’s really cold.” Peter shuddered and weakly reached up for the hand, but it pressed steadily against his forehead and cheeks. “Hey kiddo, everything’s going to be fine, okay? We’re working on it.” He blew out a breath and furled closer into himself, trying to soak up any heat he could.
“Wha’ happens if it reaches m’ head?” Tony stayed silent, in fact, he didn’t move or respond to the teen’s question in any way, which was worrying. Peter forced his eyes open and rolled his head to the side, taking a moment for his sight to focus in on the mechanic. “Mister St’rk?” The hand over his own moved away and he followed Tony as he stood and turned away from the ben.
“You’re going to be okay,” he said firmly, almost as if he were telling himself that the boy he had taken under his wing would be alright.
“Wha’s gonna happen?” Peter was surprised when his own voice came out shaky and his eyes blurred with unshed tears. “I – I didn’t mean to breathe in the gas… I didn’t know, I didn’t…” Tony sighed and rubbed his face.
“I know Pete, it isn’t your fault. I’m not going to let anything bad happen to y –” He was interrupted when the teen moaned and wrapped his arms around himself. “You okay kiddo? What’s going on? Talk to me,” Tony turned to face the bed once again.
“Nothing… m’ jus’ cold, really c – cold.” His teeth began to chatter as he held his own arms tighter, his shivering increasing.
“Bruce?” Tony mumbled to himself as he ripped blankets from other Med Bay beds, bringing them over to Peter and tucking them around the quivering form. “Is it progressing? Getting better? Can’t we flush it out of his system, try and slow it down?”
“The throwing up was his body’s way of flushing it out, I don’t know if the chills are good… he could be – I think… Tony, his body could be starting to shut down to slow the progression down. His vitals… might indicate the possibility of a coma.” Peter whimpered and tugged the blankets closer, feeling his eyes drooping but trying to keep them open.
“No. He’s not – we aren’t putting him into a medically induced coma Bruce, he’s going to be fine. He’s okay!” When his hands came to rest on the bench, his movement was rough, and the weight made the table shake. “We can’t… I can’t.”
“Tony that isn’t what I’m saying… I didn’t mean medically induced, it – it’s his own body, it’s like a failsafe. I won’t be able to stop it, but I can monitor him and stop it from getting to his head… okay?” Peter could see Tony shifting closer to his bedside and he felt something wet hitting the blanket beside him, they were tears. “If I put him in a medically induced coma, pulling him out of it will be easier… it’s the only way to slow the poison down enough so I have time to synthesize something to get rid of it completely.”
Tony picked up his hand, resting it against his lips and tapping them against each other in thought. Peter could just make out the reflection of light on the man’s wet cheeks while he fought to keep his eyes open.
“Kid… I know this is the only way but I just – I want you to stay awake… stay with me,” he whispered the next word almost inaudibly, but Peter could hear. “Stay…”
“Tony, if you want the poison out, I need to put him to sleep.” He shook his head but ultimately, he knew if the teen was making it through this, it needed to happen. “I’m doing it now; Peter I promise this isn’t going to hurt and you’ll be okay. Everything will be flushed out when you wake up.” Tony threaded a spare hand through the soft curls, wiping his tears on the elbow of his sleeve.
“Just a little nap, okay Spidey?” He sniffed and smiled at the teen, not wiping the tear that was following the old tracks down his cheek. “You’re gonna be okay, I’m staying here,” he laughed weakly, and the noise broke on something similar to a sob. “Don’t nap too long, kay kiddo? Need some mindless chatter for the lab, maybe some terrible pop culture references and science puns.” He dropped his head to Peter’s lap and squeezed his hand tightly. “I’ll miss ya while you’re off in dreamland squirt. Don’t stay there too long,” the sad smile clung to Tony’s lips while Peter let his lashes flutter shut. “Night buddy,” he heard the words from far away as his thoughts dripped into a stream of unconsciousness.
Bruce looked empathetic, but he was quick to work on something that was capable of matching the boy’s DNA while also flooding the poison from his system without consequence. Tony stayed at the bedside for hours, listening to the beeping of the monitors and watching the rise and fall of the teen’s chest from under the nest of blankets.
----
“Given how severe it was and how much work his body’s been doing to wash everything out, you’ll have to stay and care for him for a few days because he’ll be completely out of it.” He didn’t care, Bruce got the cure done in four days, he had been by Peter’s side for all of them and it wasn’t changing now he was going to be waking up. “He’ll be up in less than an hour, but he won’t have any energy,” Tony nodded, squeezing the small hand he still held in his own.
“I’m taking care of him Bruce.”
----
When Peter woke up, he wasn’t coherent enough to hold a conversation, but Tony hoped he would remember the hand in his hair and fingers rubbing over his palm soothingly.
The next few days were a blur of soup, rest, an unnecessary number of pillows and one sleepy, clingy teenager that wouldn’t stop apologising for scaring everyone. The mechanic was surprisingly okay with being a makeshift caregiver for the bedridden teen, he grew relatively fond of lounging around next to the boy while he worked on finishing a cup of soup and binging any and all movies F.R.I.D.A.Y could dig up for him.
“You know, not that I enjoy the confinements of the Med Bay, but… this is good, it – it’s nice,” he looked to his mentor and fixed a relaxed smile on his lips. “Thank you, Mister Stark, for real, I appreciate it.” Tony returned the smile easily and patted Peter’s knee gently.
“All good kiddo, don’t inhale any more mystery purple stuff anytime soon though, not the most fun of times.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he pulled the blankets under his chin and rolled to his side, fingers looping lightly over the arm of Tony’s chair. He hid his smile in the mountain of pillows when the mechanic picked up his hand and held it until he was asleep again.