Hello?

You Don't Look Too Good

The past two days had not been very good for Peter.

He can't remember the last time he felt this sick. Actually, scratch that. The last time he felt this sick was after the spider bite that gave him his powers eight months ago, and that was not a fun time.

He felt a little off on his way home from the Tower on Monday night but didn't think anything of it and went to bed after an uneventful patrol. The next thing he knew he was rushing to the bathroom as quickly and quietly as possible to puke up the lasagna from the previous night into the toilet.

Peter was late to school that morning, but his homeroom teacher thankfully decided not to mark it down after seeing how bad he looked when he walked in. The rest of his day was spent with his head down on his desk, trying to keep himself from passing out while reassuring Ned and MJ that it was just a little cold and that he was fine. Unfortunately, that didn't quite work with Mr. Delmar. The man took one look at Peter stumbling into the shop for his shift and pretty much shoved him out of the door. He would need to pick up an extra shift or two to make up for the hours he missed. Peter didn't patrol that night either. He went home and slept, too exhausted to do anything else. Luckily, May works night shifts at the hospital most Tuesdays.

After a day and a half, Peter still doesn't really know what's wrong with him. It's definitely not just a common cold, he knows that. Monday night's patrol mostly consisted of helping old ladies cross the street and helping a man who locked his keys in his car, so it's not from overexertion. He knows the feeling of not getting as much food as he probably should, so he rules that out as well.

It's not until he gets to the Tower and is offered a cup of coffee by Mr. Stark that it clicks, and boy does he feel like an idiot.

"Hey, kid. I just got done brewing another pot of coffee. Want some? I've still got that peppermint creamer you liked," he says as the elevator doors open and Peter stumbles in, still feeling like crap. Mr. Stark is standing over by the coffee maker, pulling out a mug from the cabinet.

Spiders hate peppermint, idiot.

Peter drags himself over to the bench he was working at last time and can't help but smack his head on the table as the realization dawns on him.

Why didn't I think of that before asking for the drink? I mean, I had no idea that peppermint would make me sick just because my DNA has been partially altered to that of a spider, but I should have at least considered the possibility. And now I feel like I've been hit by a bus because of my own stupidity.

Mr. Stark had turned around after hearing the sound of Peter's head hitting the table, but Peter kept his head down. He had the hood of his jacket up over his head and his hands on his head as he silently berated himself for his ignorance, not noticing the slight look of concern on his boss's face.

"You okay, Pete?"

Peter quickly picked his head up, rubbing his eyes tiredly. He had honestly forgotten where he was for a moment, but the sound of his mentor's voice from across the room abruptly brought him back to reality. He turned towards the man, hoping he looked better than he felt.

"Yeah! Yeah, I'm fine. Um, I'll pass on the coffee today, but thank you for the offer, Mr. Stark," he said, giving the man a small smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. Turning back around, he grabbed his backpack and pulled out the notebook with most all of his Karen-related notes. He has a separate notebook for some functions pertaining to Spider-Man, but that's assuming he ever gets the equipment he would need to integrate the AI into a suit, which is more of a pipe dream to him than anything. Although, an internship with Tony Stark was also in that category not even a month ago.