Hi followers of this story! I hope you like this next chapter. I'm expecting this story to go on for maybe one or two more chapters. Enjoy!

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Tony was confused. Peter had agreed to science with Bruce and Tony at seven. There had not been a major catastrophe anywhere in New York, at least none that he was aware of. Peter never went to the basketball games that took place at his school. Umm... Did Peter forget? That would explain his absence.

Making up his mind, Tony called out, "Jarvis, locate Peter."

Responding promptly, Jarvis replied,"Peter is in his room. Sir, might I suggest a quiet entrance? The young sir appears to be asleep."

"Noted. Thanks , J."

Tony quickly left his toys in his lab to go get Peter. Riding up the express elevator, Tony arrived at Peter's room. Creeping in silently, Tony smirked maliciously at the sight of Peter. His face flushed slightly from the five blankets covering him, his tranquil breathing and light snores, the lightly tinted bags under his eyes, all made him appear as the perfect epitome of a tired-out teen. So innocent, so peaceful, so going to get it.

Inhaling deeply, Tony exclaimed loudly, "PETER! YOU FAILED YOUR HONORS BIOLOGY TEST!" Peter, being the studious student he was, could not bear even the thought of this grievous failure. Jolting upward, Peter slowly became cognizant of his surroundings. Including the cackling billionaire three feet from his bed.

"What. Are. You. Doing. In. My. Room?" Peters voice was as hard as ice, if albeit scratchy from sleep.

"Oh, you know... trying to stop my favorite teenage lab partner from sleeping through science time. It gets kinda boring with just me and Bruce, you know?"

Peter massaged his forehead lightly, "It's Bruce and I. Not me and Bruce."

"Fine. Grammar police." Tony muttered. "So, will you've gracing us with your presence?"

Peter nodded, ignoring Tony's mocking tone. "Yeah, I'll be there." He cleared his throat. "Just gimmie a sec, okay?"

"Yeah, sure thing. See you there." Tony exited the room, barely closing the door before he heard three harsh coughs exit Peter's body. Tony paused, listening for a moment. Two more coughs shortly, along with the sound of Peter grumbling to himself.

"Stupid Nyquil. Knocks me out for too long, and doesn't even get rid of a cough." Tony thought he heard Barton's name mentioned a few times, but he couldn't hear Peter very well anymore. Shrugging to himself, Tony returned to the lab where Bruce remained. With earphones expelling music into his ears, Bruce barely noticed Tony walk in.

"Is Peter coming?" Bruce popped one earbud out of his ear to listen.

"Yeah, he'll be here in a little while. He was taking a nap. Emphasis on the was." Tony chuckled, meanwhile Bruce became concerned for their friendly neighborhood Spider-Man.

"Tony, what did you do?" He knew it had been a mistake to let Tony retrieve Peter by himself.

"Nothing, just crushed his little nerdy dreams." At Bruce's unamused look, Tony gulped. "I yelled that he failed his honors biology test."

"You do know that Peter is in Cheistry now, not Biology, right?" Tony grinned sheepishly at his own oversight.

Bruce rolled his eyes, popping the earphone back into place just as Peter walked in. That's right. Walked.

Right outside the lab, there were some stairs leading up to the rest of the Avenger's penthouse. Usually Peter raced down the stairs, vaulting off the last five and landing with a loud thump, which almost always startled Tony enough to jolt him out of his scientific stupor. But not today.

Today, Peter walked into the lab peacefully...no, lethargically. Bundled up in a grey hoodie and fuzzy socks, Peter almost looked uncomfortably warm in the tower's constant 70°F (21.1° C) atmosphere. Almost too hot, that is, if he wasn't shivering every five seconds. Tony cataloug information in his brain for further inspection once he was done sciencing. Even if it was interesting, it wasn't a priority yet. Probably just warming up after spending all day in that freezer of a school Peter attended.

Today each one of them had a task to complete, whether it was self-assigned or requested by a team member. Banner worked on a lightweight fireproof, bulletproof, knife-resistant fabric that could be utilized for both Peter's and Cap' s suits. Tony had made it his priority to improve SHIELD's standard weaponry and simultaneously make it all Iron Man colored. And lastly, Peter improved his web-shooters with yet another upgrade, this one with longer lasting webs, should the need arise (his normal webs last an hour at most). Now to get to work.

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Peter had a cough. Over the past hour, it had steadily become more noticeable. At first, it was nothing. Just a sharp clearing of his throat every now and then. Then it was a light cough tickling the back of Peter's throat. After that, it was two or three, kinda rapid fire. As he had said before, not too serious; however, it was as easy to ignore as an out of tune voice amidst a choir. Impossible to look past.

Thankfully for Peter, Bruce's music had stopped Banner from hearing him cough. Although his coughing fell mostly on deaf ears, Tony could hear him perfectly. In fact, after a particularly annoying coughing bout, Peter had looked around and discovered that Tony had left the lab. He had yet to return.

Suddenly, the sound of footsteps made its way down the stairs and into the lab. In Tony's hand was a glass of water, which he left at Peter's station as he walked past. He also had a conspicuous-looking bulge in his jacket pocket.

Peter shrugged and continued with his tinkering, occasionally sipping from the water Tony got him. After about two minutes, Peter's urge to cough resurfaced. He covered about four or five coughs with his elbow before drinking some water. Getting up from his chair, Tony walked up next to Peter and reached into his pocket, producing a bag of cough drops.

"I'm ok." Peter attempted persuasion, although the effort was futile.

"Take it, Pete. You sound like you're going to cough up a lung."

"Oh, please. You just want me to take one so I'll stop spewing germs all over your lab, germiphobe. I'm not even sick; I just swallowed down the wrong pipe." Hoping to distract Tony, Peter mentioned germs.

"Hey! I've improved a lot. For starters, if you had done this a year ago, I probably would have isolated myself in my room until you weren't contagious. Now I'm actually trying to be concerned for your well being. This is what I get for trying to be helpful?"

Peter felt a little guilty now, but if he accepted the cough drops, Tony would know without a doubt that he was sick. Two other Avengers knew already, he didn't need any more humiliation. So with a stubborn pout, Peter turned towards his project and grumbled, "I'm fine."

At Peter's refusal, Tony threatened, "if you don't, I'll tell Steve."

Peter shuddered at the thought. Familiar with illnesses from personal experience, Steve had been appointed the mother hen of the group. In close second was Bruce.

Peter would much rather take one of the horrible-tasting cough drops than suffer the wrath of Steve Rogers. So with a bit of reluctance, Peter popped a cherry-flavored cough drop into his mouth, grimacing at the taste but relishing how it eased the tickle that had been invading his throat. It also cleared his nose a little.

Although it injured his pride a little, Peter thanked Tony. Tony simply shrugged and responded with a smart remark about his coughing getting annoying. This made Peter grin cheekily and exclaim, "I always knew you had a heart in you!"

Tony rolled his eyes and returned to his workspace. He had some guns to modify.

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After Peter, Tony, and Bruce finished their projects, they joined the rest of the team for some dinner and Friday night football. Of course, only Clint really paid attention to the game, but it provided a nice amount of background noise most nights. Just not tonight.

Tonight, Peter's head throbbed in sinc with the announcer's voice. His nose itched with every touchdown, and was it just him, or was his Spidey sense going off whenever the opposing team was about to intercept the ball?

Speaking of his Spidey sense, it had been on the fritz for their last couple hours. At first, it freaked him out. Then he realized that it was most likely just this cold/flu/superplague (most likely the superplauge) messing with his system. Although it had been annoying, it hadn't gotten in the way of his whole "act like everything is fine" plan.

"Dinner's here!" Clint exclaimed as the elevator chimed. They had ordered pizza, five pizzas, actually. With Steve's metabolism and Peter's appetite, not to mention the Hulk, they tended to go through a lot of food.

The elevator door opened, revealing a wide-eyed delivery man, not much older than Peter himself. Said delivery man was immediately robbed of his pizza by none other than the famous Tony Stark. The awestruck teen didn't even think to ask for the Avenger's autographs until the elevator doors closed. He looked down at his hands in disappointment only to find a $100 Bill as his tip. Folded up inside the bill was a picture of the Avengers, as well as their autographs. The delivery guy's grin nearly split his face in two. Wait 'till his friends heard about this.

(Back to our heroes)

Despite what many might believe, dinner in Avenger's tower was actually quite civil. That is, if you ignore the noise, the surprisingly large amount of bent forks and knives (Tony could barely replace them as often as they broke), and the sheer amount of pizza that they ate. Peter alone could easily consume two whole boxes of it. At least, when his stomach didn't feel unhappy.

He didn't feel like throwing up or anything. He just felt that eating a ton of pizza right now would be uncomfortable. He had one slice of cheese pizza so he didn't make the others suspicious.

Slumped over in his chair, Peter had almost nodded off once during dinner. Only Clint's excited cheer when his team scored a point had kept him from sleep. Although he desperately needed sleep, here was not the place.

"Hey, Pete? You want another slice of pizza?" Clint offered him the last one in the box.

"No thanks, Clint. I'm full."

Clint grinned, excited at the notion of eating the last piece of pizza. Taking it out of the box, Clint lifted it towards his mouth, closed his eyes, and took a large bite of... air?

Natasha snagged the piece at the last second, quickly taking a bite of it. Clint' s eyes widened in surprise as he looked around for his missing piece of pizza. Finally locating it, Clint groaned in frustration.

"Come on, Natasha! That was mine!"

Natasha took another bite of the borrowed pizza and smiled at Clint. "Now it's mine."

Clint reached across the table, trying to grab the pizza which was just out of reach. Smiling innocently, Nat surprised them all by licking the pizza. (Come on, anyone with siblings must have done this at some point in their lives)

"Mine." Nat repeated, and finished off the last piece of pizza, to the charign of most of the guys at the table.

Peter merely grinned. Many people speculated who the toughest Avenger was. Most thought it was Thor, or the Hulk, or even Captain America. They were all wrong. Natasha Romanoff wad by far the scariest and toughest Avenger on the team.

After the pizza disappeared, the group migrated to the living room area. Bruce claimed the recliner, Clint and Natasha the loveseat, and Steve, Tony and Peter were left with the couch.

Peter glanced at his watch, which read 9:48 PM. Maybe he could... Peter's thoughts were suddenly interrupted by his Spidey sense blaring in his skull. Wait, not his skull, his nose. Peter's Spidey sense tickled Peter's nose in an unbearable way. Scrunching up his nose did nothing, so Peter did the unavoidable. Sneezing rapidly three times into his elbow, Peter quickly felt multiple pairs of eyes on him.

Blushing immensely, Peter looked up from his elbow, thankful that this sneeze hadn't been particularly messy. It would have been awkward if he had actually cleared his nose with that sneeze.

A round of "bless you's" had followed Peter's sneeze, and most of the Avengers were quickly distracted by the fumble on the screen.

Steve, however, kept his eye on Peter, who was desperately attempting to look as healthy as possible. Although his effort was valiant indeed, it was hard to pretend to be fine with a 100°F fever, headache and a cough.

"Are you alright?" Steve asked Peter, his eyes concerned.

Peter nodded, "Yeah, I'm good. It was just my Spidey sense. Sometimes it does that. It's kinda counter-productive, but whatever. I don't know everything abou how it works." Gulping nervously, Peter hoped Steve didn't see through his excuse. Sure his Spidey-sense did cause his sneeze, but that was nowhere near normal.

"Are you sure that's all it was, Peter?" Steve's eyes scanned him, noticing his cheeks flush slightly and his how tired his eyes looked.

"Yeah, I'm good. Just a bit tired is all. That's what weekends are for, though. Am I right, Cap?" Steve nodded, convinced for now of Peter's acceptable health. They turned back to the TV just in time to see yet another GEICO commercial.

About an hour later, Peter finally admitted defeat and headed to bed. "Goodnight, guys. See you in the morning."

The Avengers chorused goodnight, a few of them went to bed shortly after Peter did.

Walking up to his room, Peter finally allowed himself to cough. Releasing his deep-sounding coughs into his shoulder, it took Peter a while to regain his breath. Once he had gotten his breath back, Peter reached his room. Stopping quickly to blow his nose in the bathroom, Peter could barely keep his eyes open. Not even bothering with pajamas, Peter turned off his light, and snuggled under his multitude of blankets.

He forgot to have some Nyquil, but he figured sleep was more important. Peter was out like a light.

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