Welp

5- Sicc Boi

It's Tony and Peter feels a relief like no other wash over him. He's been saved.
~
Peter jolts up in bed and sits upright. Before he has time to even proccess a thought, it's like a reflex, he quickly leans over the edge of the bed and throws up. He probably sits there and heaves, as the muscles in is stomach ache, for a minute or two. Tears welling up in his eyes.

Once he finally collects himself, He runs a shaky hand through his damp hair.

Oh god.

It takes him a few seconds before he's able to form words in his mouth. "F.R.I.D.A.Y, w-where' s Mr. Stark?" He asks in a shaky, kind of choked, voice.

"In the kitchen." The AI responds. "Want me to contact him?" She asks.

Peter shakes his head and utters a quiet "No". "I'll do it myself." He says.

He shakily gets out of bed, holding onto the wall for support. He stumbles out the room to the hallway.

The light flickers on and he looks in the direction of the livingroom and kitchen at the very end of the hall, and suddenly it seems too far away.

He breathes shakily and suddenly he's having a coughing fit. He leans against the wall, both hands over his stomach as he coughs like he's got something stuck in his throat. He's hunched over, tears spilling out of his eyes, praying that it won't make him throw up again.

Suddenly he can breathe again. But he feels even more exausted than before, and his stomach is still cramping.

His legs are shaking just by standing still. He feels weak and nasous and cold and small. So, so small. He feels awfull. He feels like shit, to be honest.

He didn't even think he was capable of becoming sick anymore after the spider bite. Wasn't his imune system stronger or something?

He starts waddling to the end of the hallway on his shaky legs, and he's oh so deatly afraid they're going to give out on him.

Peter's bottom lip quiver. He doesn't want to feel like this. He doesn't want to feel so terrible and weak.

He's been sick before, but it's-- he can't remember it being this awful.

It feels like he's miles away and all He wants is May or Tony to come rescue him from this hell. He just wants it to be over.

His mind feels clogged up and he can't breathe through his stuffed up nose. The world seems to pass by in slow motion. Way to slow for Peters liking.

He's almost there though. judt bare meters away, and Peter thinks he can see Mr. Stark's shadow.

But then, suddenly, Peter can't get his legs to move any further and he slumps to the floor with a loud thud.

And he cries. Because it's so awful. So utterly terrible and it hurts. It hurts so much.

He brings his knees to his chest and burries his face in his arms. Peter sobs.

He wants someone to hug him and tell him it's gonna be okay. He wants someone to help him. Peter wants someone to make him feel better.

He wants to go home. He wants May to hug him and make it go away.

"Peter?" A voice asks him.

It's Tony and Peter feels a relief like no other wash over him. He's been saved.

He crouches in front of Peter. He looks worried. "What are you doing up at 1 am?" He asks. "Are you okay?"

Peter shakes his head and lets out a sob. "I-I don't fe-eel good."

"He threw up eight minutes ago and appears to have a high fever." F.R.I.D.A.Y's voice echoes throughout the room. "His symptons are fattigue, nasua--"

"Yeah, okay. That's enough." Tony cuts her off.

He puts his hand over Peter's forehead as Peter sniffs.

"I'm sorry." Peter mumbles. Tony shakes his head and frowns. "It's nothing to be sorry about. Stuff like this happens." Peter nods slowly.

"Do you need something to drink?" Tony asks. "I heard Coke is good for your stomach when you feel sick." He adds. Peter nods. He could really use something to drink.

"You can lay down on the couch or something." Tony says, motioning towards the livingroom. Peter looks at him with glassy eyes. "I-I don't kno-ow if I can walk..." He says. "I'll help you. Sounds like a plan?" Tony replies and Peter nods.

"Alraight." Tony mumbles, gripping Peter's arms and hoisting him up with a grunt.

Peter's legs give up almost immediatly and Tony has to catch him again before he falls over. He holds him tightly against his side as they start to very slowly make their way towards the couch. Peter grips onto his suit jacket as tightly as his shaky fingers allow him to.

When they get to the couch Tony sets Peter down and wraps him in a blanket. He leaves and comes back with a bucket and a coke can.

It looks like he's about to leave the room as he pulls up his phone and starts tapping on it. "Please don't leave." Peter begs, voice small and cracked and eyes welling up with ubshed tears. Mr. Stark looks at him with sad eyes and sighs.

Peter mutters a quiet 'thanks' as Tony sits down next to him on the expensive couch, that probably costs more than May's car, and wraps an arm around him. Peter rests his head against him and sniffles.

"I-I didn't even thi-ink I could get sick anymore after the spider bite..."

When Peter wakes the next day, he's laying, tucked into a blanket, on Tony's couch. The blanket is warm. And very soft. Holy shit. Peter lives here now, he's decided.

It takes him a few moments to recollect the memories from the night before.

The bucket is still there. Or is it another one? Peter can't remember what colour it was.

Mr. Stark comes in. "Good afternoon, Sleeping Beuty." He greets with a cheerful, but still kinda sarcastic voice. "How are you feeling?" He asks, crouching before Peter and feeling his forehead. "It's a little better." He says.

"If you feel up for it, I can heat up some soup for you later." Tony smiles at him. "You haven't eaten since yester day, and you threw up like 4 times last night." Tony mumbles, furrowing his brows. "Even though one of those times were just dry heaving."

Peter looks at him confused. Brows knitting together as he tries to piece together the information he just got, and remembering it actually happening.

"You look a little dazed, kid. You don't remember?" Tony asks, raising and eyebrow. Peter shakes his head against the pillow his head is resting on.

"You just woke up a few times every so often and puked." Tony says, shifting his position ever so slightly. "You were crying about how horrible and painful everything felt." He says. "I guess I have to believe you because at one point you were shaking so badly I had to hold you until you fell asleep again." Tony frowns slightly, looking down at his hands.

He clears his throat. "Good to see you're feeling better at least. I called your aunt. She was very worried."

Peter frowns. "I'm sorry..." He mutters quietly, playing with the hem of the blanket. "You have nothing to be sorry for, Peter." Tony says, running his hand through Peter's hair. "When will you get it into your thick skull that you don't have to apologise for everything?" Tony sighs, ruffeling his hair standing up.

Peter smiles. "Thank you."

Tony smiles amused. "Rest up, kiddo." He says.

I'm a sucker for sickficks so maybe I'll do another one sometime in the future. :V