spiderman angst/sickfic oneshots

nightmare become reality (irondad)

TW: cancer + medical whump
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"Mr. Stark? I think something's wrong." Peter spoke softly.

It really came out of nowhere. They were having lab day when Peter began speaking over the music. His voice was barely audible under the loud rock, but once he began talking, Friday lowered the blasting sound.

"Like what?" He asked, not looking up from his work, believing Peter was talking about some wiring issue on his own project or something.

"I've- I haven't been feeling very well lately," Peter said nervously, staring over at the man, "but me and May can't really afford to go to the doctor."

Peter felt beyond ashamed and embarrassed that he needed to ask his mentor for money to see a doctor, not because he was ashamed of their status or income, but because he felt like a burden for being sick so often lately. He just wanted to feel better

It seemed like every couple of weeks, Peter was springing up with a new illness or infection of some kind. He currently was feeling like he had the pneumonia again, it'd only been a month or so since he had last had it. Stuffy nose, cough, and a rough ache in his chest that begged him to go home. Really, he'd felt like he'd had the flu for months now. His joints always hurt, he was always waking up in a cold sweat, shivering uncontrollably. He had lost a significant amount of weight (enough that gossip magazines were popping up about Spiderman's new skinny figure) and was exhausted all the time. He kept getting random nosebleeds and his asthma seemed to be back from before the bite.

Tony set his stuff down to look up, "yeah, Happy sent me a couple of your post patrol texts saying you'd thrown up or passed out or something yesterday saying he was concerned. You've been sick a lot lately."

Peter just nodded silently, feeling the new familiar shiver of a fever as time ticked on, "I think I'm sick again." He said, leaning forward in his chair and coughing.

Tony frowned and rolled his chair over to Peter, placing the back of his hand on his forehead, "yeah, you feel like you have a fever."

"Mr. Stark, we can't afford more trips the doctor, I don't know what to do." He said, tears embarrassingly bubbling over the edges of his eyelids as the fatigue took over and he began to sob. He couldn't stop it anymore.

Tony didn't hesitate to pull Peter into a hug as he cried, "I'll pay, bud. Don't worry, okay? I'll pay. Let's figure out what's going on and how to keep you healthy."

Peter pulled away into a tight coughing fit, holding his chest with a clawed hand, the other hand on his knee supporting him forward. After the coughs lessened, the wheezing intensified. He tried to stay calm, he really did, but he couldn't breathe.

Mr. Stark called an ambulance and carried Peter into the elevator, handing him off to paramedics on a stretcher.

He held the boy's hand the whole time.

      Apparently, it took a genius billionaire playboy philanthropist to get the doctors to finally listen to Peter and May's pleas for help. At last, they did blood work and scans and MRIs to try to understand what was going on. To understand why Peter was sick all the time, to know why he'd been so tired, how to fix it.

Tony was ready to pay the price for whatever medicine it took to get his kid feeling better. Back to being himself.

He didn't expect the medicine to be chemotherapy.

Peter. His Peter had leukemia.

Everyone cried. Yes, even Tony. He didn't think he would but when the doctor continued on saying it was nearly stage 4 and they needed to start treatment as soon as possible, a couple tears escaped over his cheeks. He hugged Peter tight. He was thin. So thin; he let another tear dribble down his chin as he tore himself apart for not catching this sooner. At not noticing that cancer was developing in someone so dear to him without a single clue.