Outnumbered

Chapter 11

Peter places a Dexcom sensor, alcohol prep swab, and new transmitter on the kitchen island as Tony takes a seat. They'd had a long conversation the evening prior after they'd both calmed down, with Tony appearing at Peter's door to apologize and admit that in his effort to keep Peter as safe as possible, he'd forgotten what was most important. He'd invited Peter to come up with some reasonable amendments to his rules, discussed how Peter felt about his devices and being reliant on technology. It hadn't been an easy conversation, nor a quick one, but he'd let Peter do as much of the talking as possible, let him set the tone and pace.

"You don't have to do this, you know," Peter offers, giving Tony the opportunity to back out.

"I promised. I don't back out of promises." He lifts the sleeve on his left arm.

"What made you want to do this, anyway?" Peter asks, curious.

"That day in the kitchen, before your support group, you said that May and I don't know what any of this feels like and therefore we couldn't understand. I thought you had a point and it stuck with me. And then when we fought about Dex, I realized that it wouldn't hurt to put myself in your shoes for a little bit."

Peter smiles. "Thanks."

"Anything for you, Underoos. That's why I came up with so many stupid rules in the first place."

Peter laughs, wipes Tony's skin with the alcohol swab. As it dries, he rips the Dexcom packaging open and peels the protective papers off of the bottom of the sensor applicator. With a steady hand, he presses it securely against Tony's skin. "I'm sorry if this part hurts."

"Bruce said it's supposed to be nearly painless."

Peter gives a small laugh and rolls his eyes. "Bruce has never had to wear one of these. Sometimes it's fine, but most times, it stings for a bit. Let me know if it feels like I hit a nerve or muscle or something."

"I'm sure it'll be fine," Tony comments just as Peter flicks the failsafe off and presses down on the button. The sensor releases from the applicator.

"Jesus Christ!" Tony yelps, nearly jumping off of the chair as the needle inserts the wire. He's holding his elbow in his right hand, shoulders up and body stiff as his face twists in pain. "That fucking hurt!"

"Shoot, it's bleeding a bit," Peter notes, trying to get a good look at it. "Stop moving for a second."

Tony tries to comply, looks up at the ceiling and takes a deep breath. "Okay, I think it's getting better. Like, definitely a 7/10 right now instead of a 9/10."

"No need to be a baby about it," Peter chides.

"I bet you loved every second of that," Tony jokes back.

"Kind of. Except the part where I actually hurt you." Peter inserts the transmitter, waits for the two clicks to be sure that it's secure. "I'm sorry it was painful. And that it bled."

"I'm sorry I kept telling you it's not supposed to hurt, kiddo. That was..." he trails, exhaling. "It still stings."

"It'll probably go away tomorrow," he says, shrugging as he takes Tony's phone in his hand and starts the sensor. "You've got a two-hour warmup and then you'll be up and running. I'm going to follow you on the Follow app. It'll be nice to see someone else's numbers for a change. Don't be alarmed if you get some false lows in the first 24 hours."

"I run on coffee and Dexcom alarms," he jokes. "I'm sure it'll be fine. A few more alarms won't kill me."

Peter collects the garbage from the counter and tosses it, puts the applicator into the sharps bin on the counter. When he turns around, Tony's got his arms crossed and is smiling.