Spider-Man Sick Fic (Request For A Friend)
This was a request by a friend on fanfiction.net who asked for a story where Peter got sick and Tony stayed awake in the med bay taking care of him.
Thanks to @whumpishprompts for letting me use some of their prompts, I appreciate it!
Tony flinched when he heard Peter cough in his sleep. It wasn’t a small, little couch either. It was a loud, wet cough turning into wheezing that probably would’ve woken him up if he had been sleeping.
He stood up, reached over the bed, and rubbed the palm of his hand against Peter’s back, trying to stop the coughing, wincing sympathetically every time he heard Peter wheeze in between hacking bad enough it almost turned to gagging.
It finally subsided a few minutes later, only light wheezes coming from him now, so Tony slipped his hand into Peter’s open palm, and smiled slightly when he squeezed it subconsciously.
“Hey, buddy. You awake?” He whispered, not wanting to wake him up, but when he received no response, he decided to move his chair closer so Peter could still grasp onto his hand if needed.
‘Why did he let it get this bad?’ He wondered to himself as he looked at the feverish teen who was shaking under a thick blanket that had been draped over him and was clearly still sick, if not getting worse. 'How did it get this bad?’
••••••••••••••PREVIOUSLY••••••••••••••••••••
He was in a really good mood that day, which was something more on the rare side for Tony, but it was happening more and more often, and while he didn’t know what had made him happy some days, especially after the fight with Steve, he wasn’t taking it for granted.
These were the days he would figure out how to sneak some money into Peter’s hot aunt’s bank account without her knowing how it got there. The days where he and Pepper would spend a few more hours in bed before she had to gently push him off, saying that Stark Industries wasn’t gonna run itself. These were the days when he would ask Happy to pick up the kid after school for the “internship”.
This was one of those day. Key word being WAS.
Then he got a phone call. Not from Happy, though.
“Hey, Peter. Happy’s coming to pick you up from school.”
“It’s spring break, Mr. Stark. We don’t have school till Monday.”
Tony cursed at himself internally. He should’ve known it was spring break by the weather outside. Mainly because the damn pigeons were mooching on the bird seed Pepper had been buying for years cause she so badly wanted robins.
“Okay. Just head over to the compound then. I’m working on something.”
“Can you give me a hint?” Peter asked, the sound of web shooters being muted by whatever he was listening to inside his suit.
“You’re not getting it if I hear Despacito one more time. Turn that stupid song off.”
“But I’m studying for my Spanish test next week!” He protested as he turned down the music, but the drum beat was still loud enough to hear.
“Trust me, kid. If it’s in Despacito, it’s not on your Spanish test.”
“I’ll be at the tower in a-” and the line went dead. Not cut out, not became static, like that noise when a line goes dead and you don’t know what the hell happened to the person on the other end, but praying they didn’t just die.
Tony immediately abandoned his phone on the desk, and went over to his holographic map, typing in the code of Peter’s tracker, and that’s when he almost threw up.
Peter’s tracker was bang splat in Staten Island.
Tony had returned to the compound as fast as possible, holding a wet and shivering Peter in his arms tightly and securely, and even though he only ended up doing one set of compressions before Peter was breathing and his heart was beating again again, he could still hear the water in his lungs every time he coughed.
As soon as he laid him down in the med bay, the nurses immediately started to pull off the wet spandex and warm him up. And even though Peter was unconscious, Tony could see the yelling getting to him by the fact his eyes were more scrunched up then before, which forced him to hold back tears.
He was led out of the room after that to “calm down and dry off” but as he rubbed the towel through his hair, he only grew more anxious as Pepper joined him as he waited, running her thumb over his knuckles.
Tony was allowed back in as the sun started to set, and with the majority of the nurses and doctors gone or leaving the room, he went in and sat beside Peter in the chair that had been pulled up for him. He squeezed Peter’s hand tightly, as he ran his other hand through his hair and whispered.
“No more talking on the phone and swinging for you.”
•••••••••••••••BACK TO THE PRESENT•••••••••••••••••••
Tony held the cold washcloth on Peter’s head, feeling him shiver underneath and groan quietly, most likely due to the cold on his feverish skin. But, the fever needed to come down without him getting too cold so the pneumonia didn’t get worse.
And that’s when Peter’s eyes snapped open and he started coughing, hard.
Tony grabbed the bucket in case the horrible coughs turned into gagging and vomiting, and held it under his chin, before rubbing his back again with the palm of his hand.
“O-ow…” Tony heard, looking to see tears in Peter’s eyes as he managed to speak.
“Just don’t talk, Pete. It’s okay.”
He felt Peter start to relax on his side, still coughing, but it finally subsiding as he asked.
“FRIDAY, how’s his fever?”
“Shit, your fever is really high. We gotta get this down.” Tony said as he stood up, leaving Peter sitting by himself, as he went to grab the cold washcloth and the bucket with the water in it, setting it on the table close to his chair before gently putting a hand on Peter’s chest, gently laying him back down with his other hand supporting his head.
“C-can I please have another blanket?” Peter begged, tears pricking at his eyes while Tony wrang out the washcloth above the bucket. “I-I’m so cold.”
“Sorry, kid.” Tony apologized, laying the washcloth on his forehead, causing him to shudder. “We have to get your fever down.”
“Okay. I-is my cough keeping you up?”
“No, I’m just not trusting my own technology to keep you safe. That’s why I’ve been up this whole time.” Tony responded, wringing out the washcloth again.
Peter nodded, as his eyes started to close. So, Tony let the washcloth lay on his forehead, and started to run his hands through his hair.
“Go back to sleep, bud. I’m right here.”