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“Germs,” Tony said from behind Peter, startling him. “Look, kid. They’re all over me.”
The teen rolled his eyes with a smile, watching as Tony rounded the couch before slumping back into it. “No, they’re not.”
“They are. I hate germs. Sick children are officially my least favourite kind.”
“Worse than the self-sacrificing vigilante kind?”
“Almost. Oh, God, imagine a sick self-sacrificial vigilante child. Double terrible,” Tony teased, but the joke sat uneasily with him, feeling his chest tighten as he took a sip of water.
His throat had been killing him all afternoon and he had to drink water to refrain from a coughing fit.
Morgan had been sick for almost two days now and Tony and Pepper had been waiting on her hand and foot with anything they could do to help. Every day was something new, a sore throat, coughing, a headache that Tony feared could be a migraine. Her parents were exhausted with worry without him being sick too.
“It’s a good job you don’t get sick, huh bud?”
Peter swallowed, eyes watering whilst he tried not to cough. “Y-yeah. How’s Morgan?”
“Still coughing up a storm and refusing the medicine because it tastes ‘icky’.”
“It does taste pretty gross.”
“Tony?” Pepper called from upstairs, “can you come up?”
“Duty call,” Tony muttered, jumping up and hurrying back upstairs no doubt to read Morgan another story. She loved stories when she was ill.
Peter stared at the TV playing quietly in the background. He had no idea what show was on, the bright lights of the screen were giving hurting his head, but Tony would question him if he was sitting in silence. He felt like shit, he was tired and aching and all he wanted was some chicken soup and cuddles, but Pepper and Tony had their hands full. Even if they didn’t, he could hardly tell them they were sick now. Not after what Tony had said.
He finally retired to bed, hoping it would bring his aching body some comfort, but somehow it made him feel worse. His sinuses were completely blocked lying down and breathing was a task. He wanted May.
He thought back to before the spider bite when Ben would always take care of him when he was ill. They’d cuddle up and watch movies and he'd make the best butternut squash soup and play with his hair until he fell asleep. This was the first time he’d been ill since he’d lost him.
He unlocked his phone and called May without another thought.
“Hey, Peter. Everything okay?”
“May, can you come and get me?” He rasped, his voice even worse than before.
“Honey, what’s wrong? You sound terrible,” she pointed out, sounding concerned.
“I-I think I have Morgan’s bug.”
“I thought you couldn’t get sick anymore?”
“So did I,” he replied despondently, trying to stop his lip from wobbling like a child.
“Where’s Tony?”
“He’s looking after Morgan.”
“Pepper?”
“She’s with Morgan too,” he answered.
There was a pause and he could practically hear his aunt thinking. “Peter, have you told them you’re feeling ill?”
“I can’t, they’ve already got their hands full.”
May sighed, “leave it with me.”
“You’re coming?”
“Sure,” she said, and he was too exhausted to recognize the lie. “I love you, sweetheart.”
“Love you too, May,” he murmured, wishing she was here already so he could hug her.
The line went dead and Peter dropped his head back onto the pillow, limbs splayed out as dead weight on the bed. His phone barely made the side table, but he was too exhausted to place it carefully, suddenly falling into a fit of coughs that left him gasping for air.
He coughed for so long that his head hurt and his chest ached and he yearned for someone to hold him. He wanted May to play with his hair and read to him until he fell asleep. He wanted what Morgan had.
He rolled his head to the side, searching for a glass of water which wasn’t there and he felt like crying. He didn’t have the energy to go to the kitchen, his only hope was that May would be here soon and she could take him home.
He closed his eyes, letting a tear slip out as he focused his hearing on Tony’s voice, reading Morgan the princess and the pea upstairs until he fell into a fitful sleep.
He didn’t know how long had passed before he woke up with a throbbing headache, but it was dark outside now. He sat up, feeling the familiar tickle in his throat, falling into a coughing fit. His lungs burnt, every cough painfully scratched his throat, and the worst part was he couldn’t stop.
He coughed and coughed until his vision started blaring and he started to panic.
“Peter!” He heard from a distance and suddenly hands were grabbing his shoulders.
“Can’ breathe,” he wheezed, fisting Tony’s shirt in one hand as he tried desperately to suck in air.
“You can. Drink this,” he instructed, thrusting a glass into his shaking hands and guiding it to his mouth.
He took a few small sips, trying to dislodge the mucus in his throat. After a few gulps his airways cleared and he sucked in a shuddering breath, feeling tears streaming down his cheeks.
“Think you’re okay now?” Tony asked, still rubbing a hand up and down his back.
Peter nodded, too breathless to speak.
“Good,” he said, looking shaken himself. “That’s good.”
He took a few more moments to let himself calm down before he risked opening his mouth. “Is May here? Sh-She’s supposed to be here.”
Tony’s face softened, squeezing his shoulder. “She’s not coming, bud. She called me a little over an hour ago, but I assured her I was more than capable of looking after both of my kids.”
He shook his head, shrugging off the hand on his back. “You don’t have to. I’m fine, I’ll just go home and sleep it off, get out of your hair and all that.”
Tony gave him an incredulous look, cocking his head as if he had just suggested the dumbest thing ever. “You aren’t fine. You damn near just coughed up a lung, and I know you’ve been feeling ill for a while, aunt hottie called me. Why didn’t you say anything?”
“Because Morgan needed you.”
“And you didn’t?”
Peter bit his lip, staring at his lap. “It’s fine, I can call May and she can come and get me.”
“Is being looked after by me really the worst thing in the world to you?”
“No, but apparently me being sick is the worst thing to you,” Peter retorted in his tired state. The depth of his words didn’t compute to him until he saw the horror sweep over Tony’s face.
“Oh, god. I really said that, didn’t I?”
Peter nodded glumly, ducking his head, but Tony stopped him. He caught his chin gently in his hand, pulling it up so his eyes met his.
“I was- it was just a joke, kiddo. I didn’t mean it. Sure, the worst thing in the world is my kids hurting or being sick, but not because I don’t want to look after them.”
Peter contemplated him for a moment, realising he wasn’t lying. “But Morgan…”
“But nothing. Pepper is well equipped to look after a five-year-old with the flu, just like I can handle a sick Spider-Baby.”
“‘M not a baby,” he muttered, but it was lost in another fit of coughs.
Tony was instantly helping, rubbing a hand up and down his back with the glass of water ready and waiting in the other. “There you go, kid. You’re okay.”
“Hate bein’ ill.”
He flashed him a sympathetic look, waiting as he sipped at the water and handed it back to him. “There was me thinking you couldn’t get sick,” he said, placing the glass on his bedside table.
“This is firs’ time since the spider bite,” Peter said, some letters lost to his blocked nose.
“Wow, bet you’ve forgotten what it’s like to be sick, huh?”
“Not really,” he muttered quietly, staring down at his hands.
“No?”
He shrugged, picking at a loose thread on his bedding. “Uncle Ben always used to look after me. May said I was a sickly kid, every cough or cold going around I’d catch and Ben would always be there.”
Tony’s face fell, brushing the curls back from his forehead and letting his hand linger in his hair. “Oh, kid. I’m sorry.”
“It’s fine. This is just the first time you know? It… it sucks even more without him. Being ill.”
“I’m sorry, kid. Can. I ask what he did to make it better?”
“I don’t know. He was just there all the time. We’d watch movies until I fell asleep and even though I couldn’t taste them, he’d give me all of my favourite snacks,” he said, wishing he could relive the memory playing in his mind.
“I’m glad he was so good to you.”
“I miss him. Every day, but today it’s so much worse.”
Tony’s face crumpled, pulling the kid into his lap and wrapping his arms around the teen's folded form. Peter welcomed the contact, clutching at his T-shirt and burying his face into his chest. “I’ve got you, kid. You’re okay.”
Peter stayed quiet, drinking in the comforting scent of oil and aftershave and the overwhelming sense of safety. It was the contact he’d been yearning for all day.
“I know I’m not Ben, I’d never try and replace him, I couldn’t, but let me be there for you, Pete. Let me look after you,” Tony pleaded, pressing a kiss onto the crown of his head.
Peter hummed, looking up from where he had his head tucked under Tony’s chin. The man looked down at him with soft eyes, smiling. “‘M not your least favourite?”
“You couldn’t be my least favourite anything, kid. There are no one else’s germs I’d rather have all over me.”
“Morgan?”
Tony shook his head, “nope, five-year-olds don’t even try to stop themselves from coughing in your face. At least you have some decorum over being ill.”
Peter laughed, causing another series of coughs, but they didn’t seem to hurt as much now Tony was holding him.
“Sorry, I’ll stop being so funny, save your throat a bit,” he joked, soothing his back. “Friday? Scan the Spider-Baby, will you?”
“Of course, boss,” the AI responded and the pair stayed quiet whilst Friday worked her magic. “Elevated temperature, signs of flu similar to the early stages of Morgan’s.”
“Looks like we’ve got ourselves a house of plague.”
Peter groaned, head dropping back onto Tony who chuckled.
“Sorry, kid, you’re in for a shitty few days. Anything I can do to help right now?”
“Think I jus’ wanna sleep,” he mumbled, letting Tony help him lie down and get comfortable.
“Sure you don’t need a snack?” He asked, pulling up the comforter to his chest and brushing out the creases.
He shook his head, watching as he moved the clutter from his table and replaced them with some protein bars, medicine, and water. “Okay, well there’s some snacks here and Pepper told me to not let you go to sleep before you have the cough syrup.”
Peter pouted, “stuffs icky.”
“Nu-uh. Morgan only gets away with that because she’s five. Bottoms up, Underoos,” he said, literally hand feeding him a measurement.
He screwed his face up as the ‘strawberry’ flavour settled on his tongue before swallowing it. “Gross. Wait what’s that?” He asked, seeing Tony pour another measurement out.
“I calculated you’ll have to have three times the normal dose for it to have any effect.”
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” he groaned, eyeing up the medicine like it personally insulted him. “Just kill me now.”
Tony rolled his eyes with a chuckle, holding the spoon out. “Stop being so dramatic. I’m keeping you alive forever purely for selfish reasons.”
Peter deadpanned, too tired to protest being spoon-fed another two mouthfuls.
“See? That wasn’t so hard,” Tony teased, putting the bottle back on the side.
He opened his mouth with a weak argument on his tongue, but it was lost by a knock on his door.
“Mind if I come in?” Pepper asked, poking her head into the room with a warm smile.
Peter nodded and Tony moved over on the bed to let her sit down next to him.
“Hi, honey. How are you feeling?” She asked, brushing her knuckled over his cheek.
“‘M okay.”
She cocked her head, unconvinced, before turning to Tony.
“Sick, the same as Morgan,” he answered.
“Oh, poor baby,” she cooed as if Peter was the five-year-old, but he didn’t care. At this point, any comfort was good comfort and he leaned into her when she brushed the hair back from his forehead with a soft smile. She started scratching his head and Peter couldn’t help his eyelids fluttering closed, practically purring at the soothing action.
Her fingernails felt like heaven as she massaged his scalp just like Ben used to do, but softer. He could already feel himself drifting to sleep before Tony spoke up.
“Hey, hey. How are you doing that? This is my spider-baby, go get your own,” Tony whined, trying to shoo her away.
“But Tony, he likes me more,” Pepper teased, continuing to play with Peter’s curls, much to his delight.
“Show me how you do that.”
“It’s a gift, Tony. Can’t just learn it.”
Peter peeked an eye open to find him scowling at Pepper, but it seemed he was fighting a smile breaking out. “Hands off, you’ve got Morgan.”
She chuckled, stepping back and Peter whined at the loss of contact. “Fine, but if he isn’t asleep in the next five minutes I’m coming back to finish the job.”
“I’ll do it in two,” Tony challenged, replacing her on the bed. “Don’t worry, kid. I give much better head massages.”
Peter smiled, letting his eyes drift closed again and slowly falling to sleep with Tony’s hand carding through his hair.