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“Hey, Tony,” The kid came through the door of the workshop. Tony sighed and grumbled something incomprehensible. He looked up and saw Peter looking white as a sheet. He frowned, maybe the kid just had a bad day at school.
“Hi, kid. What’s up?” The kid looked up, eyes wide, like he was caught going through the cookie jar. It didn’t take a genius to understand that he was ready to lie.
“Yeah, yeah. I’m good, fine. Sure, definitely…” Yeah, well, if the kid had any chance to get away with it, he just lost it.
“Yeah, sure, kid. What’s up?” Now, Tony was leaning on the chair and looking Peter straight in the eyes, to make sure he wouldn’t lie to him. And maybe intimidate him, a little. Apparently, the last one was working, because he heard him gulping. Now, Tony would’ve enjoyed this immensely on any other day and would tease the kid endlessly, but today was not any other day. If it were, Peter would just roll his eyes, go to his workbench, and get his homework done. What the Hell is wrong with the kid?
“I’m fine, Tony, I swear.” Now he was averting his eyes to the floor and Tony was frowning hard. Something is definitely wrong. He came over to the kid (his kid?) and looked at him again. He was shaking, properly shaking, and practically swaying on his feet. His cheeks were flushed and his pupils almost dilated. Well, now that explains it, even though he hopes he’s wrong.
“Peter Benjamin,” The kid’s eyes snapped up to him, knowing that whenever he calls him by his full name, he isn’t funny, teasing Tony, he is no-nonsense, business-man Tony. And if he didn’t listen, he would be grounded for a long, long time.
“Tell me you are not drunk.” He was calm, his voice tense, but calm. Peter's brain was on autopilot today, so it took a moment for him to realize what his father figure implied. His eyes widened for an instant and then frowned hard, so hard that it caused his already bad headache to get even worse. Now, Tony was no telepath, but, despite what many people think, he didn't pride himself on being a genius just for the fun of it. No, he was observant. Scarily, so. Especially with people he cared about, including Peter. Knowing the kid, if his assumptions were correct, then he would stare even harder at the floor, apologize profusely for disappointing him, and swear that he would never, ever do it again. But now the kid looked surprised like honest-to-god surprised. That made Tony even more frustrated because something was clearly wrong with his kid and he had no idea as to what.
“Okay, you have till the count of three to tell me what the Hell is wrong with you or I’ll slap you until you tell me.” Now, that’s an empty threat and Tony knows it. He would never, in all eternity, do such a thing. He was not Howard. But when he saw Peter's eyes start getting glassy and the lump in his throat going increasingly low, he felt enormously guilty.
“Hey, hey, Petey. No, I was kidding. Shh, I’m not going to hurt you, I swear.” He apologized while hugging his kid and only then did he take notice of how warm he was. Everything made sense, now. The poor kid was sick and Tony had just assumed the worst. He took hold of his chin and made Peter look him in the eyes. They were puff-red, showing that he was either holding back tears or that they had already spilled. Probably both, counting on the way the kid’s lip wobbled and the big damp stain on the left of his shirt, which he would be upset about if Peter wasn't sick.
"It's okay. I’m going to make you better.” He rubbed his back in what he hoped was a soothing gesture and held onto his arm tighter.
He stood there for a while, holding onto his kid tightly, whispering sweet nothings to calm him down. Gently, when the kid had stopped full-on sobbing, he guided him to his bedroom and laid him on the mattress. When he made sure Peter was comfortable he slowly made a move to leave, but from quietly crying he let out a heart-wrenching sob that made Tony full-on wince. He turned at lightning speed and took Peter into his arms once again holding him him while he cried his heart out into his shoulder.
“It’s okay. You are going to be fine. I’m gonna help, sweetheart. Please, let me get something to help you.” He cringed internally at how desperate he sounded, but right now he couldn’t care less. His kid was crying his eyes out because he was in pain and Tony had the means to help him. He just had to leave him alone for a couple of minutes.
“I’ll come back soon, I promise. Please, please.” That didn’t quiet his sobs, but he felt against his shoulder the tiniest of nods. Tony was never one to look a gift horse in the mouth, so he laid Peter on the bed and kissed his forehead, to indicate he was coming back. With that he went out the door, trying not to hear his kid’s pleas for him to stay.
He got to work quickly. Grabbed the thermometer from the counter and some Tylenol from the kitchen. A washcloth from the drawer and a glass of water for the kid to swallow the pills more easily. When he was done he practically sprinted across the house to his bedroom and cursed himself internally for not putting Peter in his own room, but his brain gave him a pat on the shoulder telling him that his bedroom was closer to the living room than Peter’s. He still heard his kid’s sobs from across the hall making him go faster, if that was possible without dropping the stuff.
“Hey, hey, shh, it’s okay, baby. I’m here. I came back.” Now, Tony was sure he took less than two minutes to get all this stuff, but Peter might've thought that was two hours, or God knows how long. This seemed to do the trick because the crying slowed down and Peter stopped thrashing in the bed.
“Pete, open your mouth, I need to put the thermometer in.” Tony was sure to keep his voice low and gentle, so to not upset him any further, but even with his best attempts Peter still cried louder and started to stand up only to fall back down and cry even louder.
“Hey, it’s okay. We are going to see where your fever is at, so we can have it in mind for the future. It won’t hurt, sweetheart. I promise.” Even for a second, the teenager seemed to discard the idea, but soon with a little pushing, he opened his mouth an inch to get the thermometer in. Soon enough, the older genius heard the beep and grabbed the thermometer out of his kid’s mouth. When he saw the number, he had to use every fiber of self-control not to show his panic to the kid. 40. 6 C. He decided that Tylenol and a washcloth wouldn’t cut it; he had to give his lovely kid a cold bath. And, oh, God, would this be a delight. If he was crying only because of the fever, what would happen if he dumped him in cold water? Well, he would have to see for himself, soon enough.
“Hey, buddy,” He took a deep breath to collect himself and to prepare for the next round of crying and screaming and probably kicking.
“You have too high a fever and we have to lower it down significantly. That can’t happen only with Tylenol and a washcloth… We have to give you a cold bath, yeah? ” He closed his eyes, fearing the inevitable screaming match he would have to endure, but it never came. When he looked down, he almost cried out of anguish, because his angel *cough* devil *cough* of a child was sound asleep. That would make the trip to the bathroom all the worse. Damn!
He went to start the bath when his phone started buzzing. Thank God, he had put it on silent. He looked at the ID caller and frowned. It was Pepper, what could she want? He had gone to both of his meetings today! He knew that whatever she wanted him for, he wouldn’t be able to do. He had a very sick kid in the next room who hopefully didn’t pass out from high fever. Wait, could he have passed out from high fever? Hopefully not. He answered while going to the bathroom. Whatever she wanted from him, she could do herself, or pass off to one of her assistants. Even an intern, maybe. He didn’t even care at this point.
“Hello, Pep. What can I do for you this fine afternoon?”
“I need you to come to the office today. And while I know and appreciate that you did your job sufficiently for once, the deal with the Clarksons was canceled, and the board is concerned. They made an urgent meeting appointment in ten. Be there.” Her voice was urgent like she had a feeling that he would have to decline. Maybe she did. Pepper was very intuitive with those kinds of things.
“I can’t, I’m sorry.”
“What do you mean?” She sounded angry, but he couldn’t do anything about it. Or could he? He could pass Peter off to deal on his own and maybe call in an intern to help him, even though he didn't want them to find out about him. But, no, who in their right mind would pass off their kid like that when they need them? No, he would have to decline.
“Just to do it. yourself. You've done it a hundred times before.”
“Tony, you don't seem to understand. The Clarkson's were our best alliance of the year, if we lose them it would cost us a whole lot of money.”
“Oh, so you say the great Pepper Potts can't deal with a crisis?” He knew that he was dodging the subject and Pepper did, too.
"You are missing the point. I need you to come here ASAP. This is a very big deal! Get your ass in here before I make you." He winced at the sharp tone, even though he was expecting it. Still, he had to stand his ground. His boy needed him and he wasn't going to let him down.
"Pepper, you know as well as I do that you are able to do this on your own, so your threats fall on deaf ears. Even though I truly am sorry about this, I can't come in today or for the rest of the week for that matter."
"Tony, what's all this about? I can give you a week off once this deal is closed." She didn't sound very angry now, which was a plus on its own. But she did sound exasperated. Well, that's better than angry.
"I don't want a week off once this deal is closed, I need it now. Peter's sick." He was desperate but he wouldn't beg. Not yet, at least. There was a pregnant pause before he heard his wife huffing in what he could only assume was exasperation.
"Fine! But I am blaming you if this deal goes under." And with that, she hung up the phone right as the tab reached its limit.
"Well, this will do." He got up and went to his bedroom.
"Hey, Petey-pie. Wake up, buddy. We have to get you to the bath. Come on." The billionaire gently shook him, afraid that the kid may not budge, but he was wrong. Peter woke up painfully slow but woke up.
Tony decided that taking the kid's temp again would be the best thing to do. His arguments were weak even to him. When he looked at the thermometer, he felt that uneasy feeling he always feels when Peter is in some sort of trouble, because it had gone up and it was reaching 41 degrees. In his rush, he didn't want to tell his kid about his plan to dump him on icy water, so he just lifted him and got him to the bathroom, hoping that his fevered brain would catch up slower than usual. And it worked, for the most part, because Tony was trying to undress the teen when his eyes got wide and he understood what his father figure was trying to do.
"No, no. Please, Tony, please. Don't!" His pleas fell on deaf ears, as Tony finally managed to take off the kid's jeans. And if he held him a little bit closer than he had to, well, nobody needs to know that.
"Shh, shh, baby. It's okay, you are going to be fine. It's not that cold, I promise." But the kid wasn't having it, he kicked and screamed and thrashed and yelled to be let down. Tony was on the verge of doing it just to make him stop, but he decided the best for his kid was for him to suffer, even though it hurt him more hearing his heart-wrenching sobs and knowing that he was the one causing them.
"Peter! If you don't stop this instant, I swear to God, I'm going to smack you across the face!" He hadn't meant to sound so mean and angry, but it did the trick. The sobs quieted down, but the look Peter gave him was ten times worse. He looked deeply hurt, not like he had just said no to buying him a toy. No, he looked like had insulted his late parents. Still, it gave Tony the opening he needed and put Peter down to the tab. The moment his skin touched the water he screamed and cried, like he was put in acid. He tried getting up and nearly managed to, but fell right on his butt. He tried again and again and each time the same result. The older genius actually thought he would hurt himself if he didn't quit it. So, he did something impulsive. He flopped down on the tab, fully dressed. The kid stopped kicking and relaxed on his chest, even though he was still crying. Tony rubbed his back slowly, to make him more comfortable, but he didn't want him to fall asleep, so he made him promise to tell him if he got sleepy. It didn't help at all because the moment he said the words Peter repeated them back to him, without a smirk, suggesting that he was not in fact teasing him.
"Okay, then. . ." He tried to think of a way to keep Peter awake and like a lightbulb, he figured it out.
"Tell me what is Quantum Entanglement." He smirked, knowing that the kid knew the answer, even though it took him quite a time to remember it.
"This principle is a cornerstone of quantum mechanics and describes a situation where particles become interconnected in such a way that the state of one particle instantly influences the state of another, no matter how far apart they are. This phenomenon was famously described by Albert Einstein as 'spooky action at a distance.'" His words were slurred as if he was drunk, which was not good, at all. But Tony made sure not to show it on his face.
"Good job, and what about its applications? "
"It has practical applications in quantum computing and quantum cryptography. It enables the development of quantum computers that can perform complex calculations much faster than classical computers and secure communication methods that are theoretically immune to eavesdropping." Tony smiled full of pride, but his kid's words were getting all the more slurred, he had to act fast.
" And, now what makes this physics law so unique?"
"The instantaneous collection, the non-locality, the quantum superposition, its applications in technology, and the philosophical implications. Not that you would care about the last one." Tony couldn't help but chuckle at the last part, because truly Peter wouldn't say that if he had such a high fever, as he did before. Tony asked his kid similar questions, as he was grabbing the thermometer. Maybe if he kept him distracted enough, he would not notice. He didn't know if he should be relieved or concerned when he managed to do the exact thing. If it were any other day Peter would've seen his trick from miles away, but now he simply answered his questions in perfect detail, never an error to correct.
"Pete, open your mouth. I need to check your fever." Peter paused in the middle of his explanation to glare at his father figure, but he must've not looked that intimidating because the only response he got was a laugh. He opened his mouth with relatively no fuss.
"Huh! 39. 6 C. I can work with that." He smiled down at his kid, who just scowled. Tony reached out his hands to steady him before he could fall over.
"Come on, you graduated from the bath tab, now you only have a washcloth and tons of Tylenol." Peter knew he was only half joking, but he didn't have the time to dwell on it because once he was out of the bath he immediately plopped down into Tony's chest.
"Whoa, there. Up and at 'em, junior" He chuckled, clearly in a better mood than before, but Peter was still sick and tired, so he didn't make any motion to move. Tony sighed, accepting his fate, and lifted Peter bridal style to his bed.
"Alright, drink it up." Tony urged him for what must be the hundredth time, but the kid wasn't relenting. He just groaned and shook his head, which must've been the wrong move, because he uncurled from his blanket and went for the bathroom. But Tony already knowing this would happen sooner or later held a bucket toward him. His kid must've puked everything he ate this week if not more, because when he was finished the bucket was almost half-full. To his credit, it wasn't that big for a bucket, but still. . .
"Now, will you take your pills?" Peter pulled a face but finally nodded.
"Okay, then. Here you go." He gave him the pills and he downed them with a bit of water. Then almost plummeted to the floor from exhaustion. Thank Goodness, Tony caught him.
"Now, now. You are going to sleep as soon as we reach my bedroom, you are not falling asleep in the hall.” Peter absentmidly nodded, not caring where he would sleep, as long as he slept. Tony thought that with how fatigued Peter seemed he would fall asleep as soon as he hit the pillow. But instead, he waited for. . . something. Tony didn't know what. So, he decided the best option was to leave and go to bed. But before he could reach the door he heard a muffled, sleepy voice calling out.
"Please, stay, Dad." Dad? Did he just call him Dad? Well, that's. . . that's weirdly satisfying. He smiled to himself and went up to his bed.
"Of course, buddy. I'm not going anywhere”. he whispered into his kid's hair, while he snuggled closer under the blankets. He kissed his warm forehead and as soon as he made sure Peter was asleep he, too, fell into a deep slumber, thinking the worst had passed. And even if it didn't, Tony was going to take care of Peter, regardless.