He should have known that sometimes ‘Mystery Meat’ should remain a mystery.
Peter picked a bad time to be daring when Ned suggested he try the new ‘Mystery Meat’ option on the lunch menu. To be frank, it looked harmless albeit completely disgusting. Kinda looked like canned spam, except with weird green bits in it that was highly questionable. But it would impress the hell out of his best friend when his insanely fast metabolism processed the alien grub that he wouldn't even have to grimace as it settled in his stomach.
Well, that's what was supposed to happen.
Ned and Peter made their way over to their usual table, which was already occupied by their good friend Michelle, and dropped right into their seats. Ned wasn't as daring as Peter and had gone for the cheese pizza that tastes like cardboard and plastic, which was fine because they knew it was cardboard and plastic. Unlike whatever the hell Peter got.
“Dude,” Michelle gave him a questioning look. “If you die, I’m going to your funeral to tell everyone that I warned you not to eat that ‘Mystery Meat’ and then I’ll sue the school in your honor.”
“You never warned me about eating it,” Peter said, confused.
“It was implied.”
He rolled his eyes at her before starting to cut up bits of the meat with his fork. It made a weird squelching noise and he tried not to gag. Man, what the fuck. It was clear Ned was thinking the same thing as he couldn't even look at it.
C’mon, Peter, you're freaking Spiderman! he thought to himself, willing himself to stab a piece with his fork. You've fought worse things than a bad lunch. Hell, you stole Captain America’s shield! You fought a big purple alien whose chin looks suspiciously like a scrotum! You can do this, man!
He ate the piece of meat, chewing quickly before swallowing.
Oh. It wasn't that bad, actually. It was kinda weird, but it reminded him of spam and he didn't mind spam. He ate some more, giving little thoughtful hums as he chewed. Ned stared at him in both awe and horror.
“So?” his best friend encouraged.
“It's not bad,” Peter answered casually, offering a shrug as he continued to consume the strange food. “Kinda like spam. But in a weird way.”
“Dude,” Ned said. “You're so awesome.”
He managed to finish everything on his tray without complaint and was satisfied to feel that he felt stuffed. There was about five minutes left of lunch and he was perfectly fine with waiting patiently for his friends to finish eating as well. He stood, deciding to throw away his trash first.
That's when he felt something off.
He sat down just as quickly as he stood and he inhaled deeply. His stomach hurt. Peter wasn't too concerned about that. Sometimes it happened when he ate too much at once and his stomach would feel like it was trying to burst his button open. So he decided he would give himself a minute. Usually, if he waited a sec, his metabolism would kick in and the pain would go away. Except it didn't.
He took a shaky breath, feeling light-headed and hot. It was like he was going to puke but he didn't feel like gagging yet. Suddenly the room was too loud and the lights too bright so he shut his eyes and leaned over to rest his forehead against Ned’s shoulder.
“Oh, dude, are you okay?” his friend asked, clearly concerned.
“Yeah, yeah, just give me a minute,” Peter said breathlessly against the fabric of Ned’s shirt. Shit, he didn't feel great at all. What the hell was going on?
At this point, Michelle looked over at them and he must have looked real bad because she didn't even bother to pull out her journal to sketch his distressed expression. Peter kept his eyes screwed shut and he breathed deeply through his nose. It helped a little, it eased the pain a bit but it was still there. He heard something slide across the table that made him jolt and his stomach lurched at the motion.
“It's okay,” Ned said softly, realizing that his senses were going haywire. “Michelle passed you a bottle of water, drink some, man.”
Peter cracked an eye open and spotted the bottle in front of him. He rose a hand and opened it, taking a sip and immediately regretting it. It made his stomach feel like a glass too full. He dropped the water onto the table, causing it to tip and spill.
“I don't feel good, guys,” he admitted in a strained voice, squeezing his eyes shut again and gripping Ned’s shirt until his knuckles turned white.
“Stop being dramatic, Penis!” he heard Flash shout from across the cafeteria and he had to wince.
He hated to admit it, but Flash was right. Peter could handle this, it was just an upset stomach. He didn't want to make a scene. Slowly, he sat up, detaching himself from Ned’s shoulder. His stomach protested but he kept a straight face, breathing slowly.
“You need to see the nurse?” Ned asked, still worried.
Peter shook his head slightly so as not to rattle his brain. “No, I’ll be fine, it'll go away if I ignore it.”
Michelle and Ned exchanged looks, clearly skeptical, but didn't say anything else.
The bell rang and lunch was over. Peter held onto Ned’s sleeve as they left to stabilize himself. He only had a couple of periods left, he could do this.
He could not do this.
It was sixth period and they had less than three minutes left but it felt like hours. Instead of getting better his stomach got worse. He could barely pay attention to what was being said, his stomach taking up all of his focus. It hurt like hell. He breathed as slowly as possible, keeping his eyes shut still, blocking out the light and ignoring all sounds except for that of his own breathing. His hands were shaking as he fought against the pain. This couldn't have been a normal effect of food poisoning.
He's has food poisoning before. It was never like this.
The bell rang and he never felt more relieved in his life. The tension that escaped his shoulders helped ease his stomach a little, only enough to get him out the doors and down the steps only to see Happy Hogan waiting for him in front of a black car.
Shit. He forgot that he was visiting the compound today. He didn't know if he could fake it for much longer.
Peter pulled on his best poker face, giving Happy his usual excited grin, hoping it didn't come out too strained. “Happy! It's good to see you, man!”
He received a strange look. “Are you alright, kid? You're looking kinda pale.”
Ah, fuck. “Uh, yeah, I’m fine, just a little exhausted from school, y’know,” it wasn't a total lie. Enduring all that pain really drained his batteries.
“Right,” Happy said, somewhat suspiciously, before opening the door to let him in. “Hop in, Tony says he's got something special for you to see.”
Peter hesitated. He should tell Happy that he should be going home. They should still have some Pepto-Bismol in the fridge or something, even if that stuff tasted like actual alien slime. Not that he's ever tasted alien slime before. That would be unsanitary. But there was a part of him that wanted to go anyway because Tony-freaking-Stark wanted to show him something special? His scientific instincts told him to just go, maybe his nausea will pass on the way there.
“Well?” Happy said impatiently, gesturing into the car for emphasis.
“Right,” Peter muttered hastily before sliding into the seat carefully, holding his breath when the door was shut because it jostled the car a little and his stomach did not like that.
But it was okay. He felt fine. He inhaled deeply through his nose and let out a sigh. This wasn't too bad.
But then the engine turned on, and they actually started driving.
The seat belt felt too tight just then and the sun was blinding him. Happy had turned up some tunes but it was all too much. Peter rolled down his window a little bit, breathing in the air that wasn't entirely fresh but it felt good on his sweating face. He reached into his backpack to grab a pair of sunglasses that he kept just in case and put them over his eyes to block off the sunlight. It helped only a little but he had to close his eyes again, too. He focused on the sound of his breathing, counting in his head as he forced his stomach to calm the fuck down. And it worked. Only for a moment.
White hot pain suddenly stabbed him beneath his stomach and he didn't know what was happening. His mouth opened into a soundless cry, his breathing became uncontrolled, causing more pain to his stomach. There was pain all over and he felt his eyes start to tear up. It hurt so much. It hurt so damn much. Peter thrashed in his seat, only causing more discomfort and Happy’s attention was caught.
“Whoa, kid, what's going on?” he asked in alarm, concerned.
“Hurts,” he gasped, a hand running through his sweaty hair and another clutching at his stomach. “Music. Off.”
Happy did as was requested and shut off the music. “Don't worry, Peter, we’re almost at the compound. Just hang in there, alright?”
Peter could only process a couple of his words as Happy began to speed up a little. The road was bumpy, this didn't settle well with his stomach. He gagged once, his whole body lurching forward as he did. Then he laid back again, but he moved to fast and he gagged again, this time emptying his stomach onto his legs and into the floor of Happy’s car. He was crying, he felt guilty about the mess and the pain was unbearable.
He gasped and sobbed. “Sorry,” he mumbled, feeling spit and vomit rolling down his chin.
“It's alright, it's okay, kid, nothing I can't clean up. I’m just lucky to have leather seats,” Happy assured, rolling down the windows to ventilate the stink.
Before Peter could say anything else, he puked again.
By the time they arrived at the compound, Peter's vomit had pretty much dried on him and his mouth tasted disgusting. Happy got him out of the car but his legs were weak and his body was burning.
“Ask FRIDAY to lead you to a shower. Get cleaned up. I'll find Tony and let him know what's up,” Happy told him as he lead him into the building.
As soon as Peter was left alone at the doors, he wobbled and leaned against the wall. “FRIDAY,” he said weakly. “Shower.”
He managed to open his eyes a little and he was grateful that the glasses were still on his face because the little green footprints the lit up on the ground would've made him puke again if it weren't for the filter. Peter followed the path as best as he could without making too much of a mess or without hurting his stomach too much. He got to a shower without incident and he quickly shed his vomit covered clothes and hopped into the shower. As soon as he finished, he found a towel and dried himself off, careful not to bend too far over his stomach. After wrapping the towel around his waist, he took a deep breath.
“FRIDAY, what should I do about clothes?” he asked, able to use his regular voice.
“There should be a pair in the cabinet behind you, Mr. Parker. Your dirty laundry will be taken care of later so please feel free to leave them on the floor,” the AI assured.
Peter did find some clothes in the cabinet and he quickly dressed himself before wandering outside the bathroom. Tony was waiting for him there.
Suddenly, he felt embarrassed. He came to the Avenger’s compound with a bad case of food poisoning and barfed all over the inside of Happy's car. He felt like such a loser. Peter looked away, a guilty expression on his face. But then Tony came up to him and put a hand on his shoulder and then Peter could actually see that Tony Stark was concerned. About him.
“Mr. Stark?” he questioned unsurely, nervous under his idol’s gaze.
“Let's get you checked out, kid. Figure out what could've made you sick despite your freaky spider powers,” Tony said and he lead him by the shoulders towards the elevator.
They were in the medical ward. Except they didn't call it that because it sounded old fashioned. Peter was laying down on the table as he was scanned. The lights and the sterile whiteness of the room made him queasy again so he shut his eyes to block it out. He was done scanning but he remained in the same position, not wanting to risk another incident. FRIDAY read them the results.
“It would appear that Mr. Parker has consumed something containing large amounts of radiation. As his mutation came from a radioactive arachnid, the different chemicals are reacting negatively towards each other,” came the voice in the ceiling.
Tony looked to Peter in confusion. “Why would you eat something with radiation in it?”
“In my defense,” Peter said slowly. “No one would expect the ‘Mystery Meat’ to be that dangerous.”
Tony gave him a Look™ before turning around and pulling out his phone. “FRIDAY put together some medicine for the kid,” he said as he typed something into his cell.
“Yes, Mr. Stark,” said the AI.
“Wait, what're you doing?” Peter asked.
“Calling your school,” Tony answered. “I’m ninety-nine percent sure that it is not legal to serve that kind of stuff to kids. There's going to be a lawsuit involved if I get a say in this. We can even call your friend in Hell's Kitchen to help out. I want to make sure shit like this never happens again as long as I-”
Peter stopped listening then. Usually, he'd be embarrassed to see Tony do all those things for him, to be concerned about him. But this time he had to agree. What the fuck were they thinking? How did they not realize that ‘Mystery Meat’ was actually incredibly dangerous?
“-and don't think you're not in trouble, either, kiddo,” Tony turned to him and Peter pretended that he had been paying attention the whole time. “Didn't your Aunt May ever tell you to stay away from anything labeled ‘Mystery Meat?’ That's like rule number five in high school survival.”
“What are the other four?” Peter asked because he couldn't help himself.
“You'll learn those if and when you actually survive high school,” and then Tony returned his attention to his phone and Peter had to feel bad for whoever was on the other line because they were about to get an earful of an angry billionaire named Tony Stark.
The whole fiasco ended with Midtown High receiving multiple lawsuits from Tony Stark and other parents whose children had been hospitalized due to their ‘Mystery Meat.’ The dangerous lunch item was removed from the menu and those who were affected were compensated with a sum of money to help pay off the hospital bills.
Peter was able to recover quickly and he received quite a scolding from Aunt May who had been so worried when Tony had told her about what happened to him. He never thought that being a stupid teenager would lead him to almost being killed by some questionable meat and he vowed never to eat lunch from school again.
At least Nelson and Murdock could cross “suing a school for serving radioactive lunch meat” off their bucket list.