By Your Side

It started while Tony was pouring himself a mug of coffee. Peter was sitting in the kitchen aisle doing his homework for the weekend. He noticed Tony's heart skipped a beat and it sounded stranger than normal. He looked up from his homework, saw that Tony's body was trembling and went to ask what was wrong.

He didn't get the chance. Tony dropped his mug, leaned over the sink and threw up. Peter winced at the sound of the vomit hitting the sink. He shuddered as he listened to Tony cough and gag as he continued losing his lunch.

"Mister Stark, are you okay?" Peter asked when Tony was done.

Tony wheezed and remained leaning over the sink.

"Maybe you should-"

"Help me to the couch, kid," Tony croaked, extending a shaky arm in Peter's direction. "Gotta lay down."

The fact that Tony was asking for help moving worried Peter. He got up and rushed to Tony's side, gently taking his arm and started to lead him to the living room. Tony, much to Peter's endless surprise, put most of his weight on Peter. His feet barely lifted from the ground and now that he was closer, Peter couldn't help but notice how hot Tony's body was.

Before placing Tony on the couch, he grabbed one of the pillows and put it against the arm of the couch. Peter carefully lowered Tony on his back. He stood over him awkwardly, not quite sure what to do next.

"Cold," Tony huffed.

"No, you can't be cold," Peter said with a frown. "Your body is so hot."

Tony shook his head weakly. "Cold," he repeated.

Tony tried to grab the throw blanket but his fingers failed to curl around the fabric enough to pull it down. Peter hesitantly placed it over Tony and tucked him in, similar to how Aunt May tucked him in when he was younger.

"Okay, is that better?"

Tony nodded and closed his eyes.

"Wa-wait, you can't sleep yet," Peter said, quickly. "I don't know what's wrong or how to help. You have to tell me what's wrong."

Tony mumbled something that not even Peter's enhanced hearing could pick up. Peter was no stranger to colds or fevers. He used to get them once upon a time. Seeing Tony with a fever was something different. He wasn't supposed to get sick, it wasn't normal. Then again, this didn't seem like a normal sickness either, not if Tony was acting so odd.

Peter looked to the ceiling. "FRIDAY, help."

"I have already contacted Doctor Banner. He will be here shortly," FRIDAY responded.

"Okay," Peter replied, awkwardly. "I'm going to get you a bowl and washcloth in case you throw up again, okay?"

Tony didn't respond, still didn't open his eyes.

XXX

Doctor Banner arrived in fifteen minutes. He brought in a tray of tools that Peter didn't recognize except for the needle. Peter had to look away when Doctor Banner took some of Tony's blood.

"I'm going to run some blood tests upstairs in the medbay," Doctor Banner said when he was done taking blood. "Until then, look after him the best you can, Peter. He has painkillers in the cupboards. I suggest giving him loose foods, such as soup and also make sure he drinks enough water."

Peter rocked back and forth on his heels. "What do you think the problem is?"

"I don't know," Doctor Banner said, frowning. "Even the colour of his blood looks odd."

Peter bit his lip. "How long until we have results?"

"I'll work as fast as possible," Doctor Banner reassured. "I'll tell FRIDAY to let you know any news right away."

Peter smiled nervously. "Okay, thank you."

Doctor Banner squeezed his shoulder before he left the living room to go back up to the medbay. It was situations like this that Peter was grateful that the Tower had just about everything. No doubt it would take a long time for a 'real' hospital to get things done.

"Hey, did you hear any of that, Mister Stark?"

Tony didn't respond, again.

Peter sighed. He might as well bring his homework in the living room and finish it.

XXX

Peter dropped his pencil when FRIDAY relayed Doctor Banner's urgent message.

"Tony has some sort of poison in his system. The source is unknown but it's been in his body for seventeen hours now. I'm working on an antidote to counter it. Try to take care of him and keep him holding on until then."

Peter choked on his own spit. How in the world did Tony get poison in his system without anyone knowing? When did it happen? Peter and Tony had been together the day prior almost the whole time. Not once did Peter's Spidey Sense go off, warning him of any sort of danger. How did Tony last this long?

Was it the work of someone who hated Tony Stark or did he consume something by mistake? Peter couldn't think of any other possibilities. Maybe they'll never get answers.

Peter kneeled next to Tony and ran his fingers through his hair. It was damp and almost stuck to his skin. Yet, any time Peter tried to pull the blanket away, Tony whined and tried to pull it back.

Now that Peter looked at Tony more closely, the more tired the man looked. He had deeper bags than usual, and it was purple under his eyes as if he'd been punched. His skin was paler and the sweat glistening on his face wasn't doing him any favours.

"Mister Stark? Can you hear me?" Peter said. "Say something, I need to know how you're feeling."

Tony peeled his eyes open. They were so dull. It was hard to squash the worry creeping up on Peter.

"Wha…?" If Peter didn't have enhanced hearing, he wouldn't have heard Tony.

"You've got a big problem, Mister Stark," Peter said, unsure if he should actually say he was poisoned. "I need to keep an eye on you, so you have to tell me how you feel. Are you hungry, thirsty?"

"Not hungry," Tony mumbled. He pointed to his throat. "Thirsty."

Peter stood. "Okay, hold on."

Peter rushed off and searched for a water bottle and straw so he wouldn't have to force Tony to sit up. He made the water as cool as possible and then made his way to the living room again. His heart skipped a beat when he saw Tony with his eyes closed again. Peter dropped to his knees next to him.

"Hey, no, no," Peter scolded. He poked Tony's shoulder. "You have to open your eyes. You have to keep them open and drink."

Peter poked the straw against Tony's closed lips stubbornly. Tony untangled his hand from the blanket and did a poor attempt at swatting Peter's hand away. Peter kept poking Tony's lips.

"You just said you were thirsty. Please, Mister Stark," Peter insisted.

Tony sighed and rolled over onto his side. He opened one eye and parted his lips the slightest bit so Peter could put the straw in his mouth. Peter smiled as Tony sucked in the water almost desperately, as if he'd been in the desert for days.

"There, that's better," Peter pulled the straw back when Tony was done. "Good job, Mister Stark."

Tony tried to nod but his head didn't lift back up. The fact that he didn't try to banter filled Peter with more worry. He missed his Mister Stark. Peter's never seen the man in such a weak state before. Of course Tony looked exhausted and tired after missions sometimes, but this was different.

The poison was messing with every fibre of his being.

"Should go home," Tony prompted.

Peter shook his head. "I already called Aunt May while you were out. She's fine with me staying."

"Dinner."

"It's okay, I'm not Aunt May. I won't burn anything and if things get out of hand, I'll order something. But I'm not leaving you."

Tony failed to nod again.

Peter was afraid to suggest Tony go back to sleep. If he falls back to sleep, he may not wake up again. It was another reason why he was afraid to give him painkillers. Painkillers tended to help with putting people to sleep. Peter wouldn't be able to live with himself if he accidentally killed Tony while trying to help.

"Can I get you anything else?" Peter asked, leaning away.

Tony shrugged. He pulled the blanket up to his chin and, much to Peter's dismay, closed his eyes. Peter tried to reassure himself that just because Tony closed his eyes, didn't mean he was going back to sleep. He might just be trying to rest his eyes. They were probably dry, that had to be it.

Peter checked the clock. It was around dinner time and Tony, on any other day, would scold him for putting off eating. So, for Tony's sake more so than his own, Peter went to the kitchen to try and cook something. As a safety precaution, he decided to make some soup for Tony and heat it up if necessary.

Halfway through making a pizza sub, Peter heard pitiful whimpering. He put his ingredients down and ran into the living room. He quietly walked over to the couch. Tony was twisting and turning. His mentor kept whimpering and groaning and Peter wished he could make it stop.

Tony got himself tangled in the blanket, struggling to get out and wheezing now.

"It's okay, Mister Stark, it's okay."

Peter placed his hands on Tony's shoulders to get his attention and to stop his flailing. Tony didn't open his eyes, but slowly started to even out his breathing. Peter turned Tony onto his back and proceeded to untangle his arms and legs. Peter took the blanket off Tony for a moment before gently putting it on top of him again.

"There, you don't have to struggle anymore."

Tony became oddly still. Peter strained his hearing and focused on the sound of Tony's heartbeat. Although it was still beating differently, it was better than not beating at all.

"I'm going to finish my sub, but I'll be back in a couple minutes," Peter soothed, softly.

Tony, as expected, didn't say anything.

Maybe cooking two things at once wasn't the best idea. Peter's pizza sub turned out fine, but the soup he made for Tony burned because he forgot to set the timer for it. At least Tony had a couple more cans of different soup for later. There was also yogurt if Tony didn't want anything hot.

While Peter ate, he wondered what Rhodey would do to help. The colonel had been taking care of Tony since they were in college. He knew exactly how to take care of him, whereas Peter was still new to it. Peter also wondered about Pepper and the things she'd do if she hadn't left Tony.

Tony started moaning again. The noise was almost panicked.

Peter immediately regretted looking up. Tony roughly rolled onto his side and threw up violently. Peter looked away, snapping his eyes shut.

"Stop, Mister Stark," Peter muttered, unable to bear the sound of Tony retching. The sound of him vomiting got worse and worse, as if Tony was about to cough up a lung. "Stop, Tony, please!"

Peter knew it wasn't fair to yell at Tony like that. It wasn't Tony's fault he was like this. It was whoever or whatever poisoned him. He needed to get it out of his system somehow.

Peter wished Doctor Banner would hurry up with the antidote.

Tony's vomiting stopped abruptly, as if he hadn't been doing it at all. Peter hesitantly looked back at him. Tony remained on his side, staring down at the mess he made on the floor having missed the bowl Peter had for him.

Tony let out a long sigh of relief as he lowered himself back onto the pillow and closed his eyes.

"Sorry," Tony managed to say. "Sorry. Sorry."

Peter shook his head even though Tony couldn't see it. Instead of responding, he went to the closet to get cleaning supplies. Peter couldn't help but cringe at the smell of the mess, but even worse, it looked like most of what Tony threw up was blood.

"Please hurry up, Doctor," Peter mumbled to himself, cleaning up Tony's mess.

Peter kept the cleaning supplies out in case Tony missed the bowl again.

XXX

Trying to feed Tony only four hours after his last throw-up session probably wasn't the smartest idea. But the man needed to eat, no matter how little. Doctor Banner told him so. Peter didn't have the patience to wait for soup to finish, so he gathered a small bowl of yogurt for Tony instead.

Tony had been going in and out of sleep. Peter took advantage of it when he was in his waking up stage. Peter propped Tony's head a little higher on his pillow so he wouldn't choke. Tony could barely speak more than a few words at a time, and opted to try and send physical messages to Peter.

Like he was currently doing, trying to push Peter's hand away.

"You have to eat, Tony," Peter said. "You need to keep your strength up and this'll help."

Tony shook his head stubbornly. "No."

Peter winced at his voice. It sounded like someone took a rake and scraped the inside of Tony's throat.

"Please. You don't have to eat it all, just a couple bites," Peter promised.

"I can't," Tony groaned. "I can't."

"You have to," Peter insisted. "Only a couple bites. It'll make you feel better."

Tony sighed deeply. He opened his mouth and Peter's expression brightened. He gathered some yogurt onto his spoon and gently put it in Tony's mouth. Tony glared at Peter, obviously not happy at the idea of being spoon fed.

"This'll be between us, okay? I promise not to tell anyone." Peter gave Tony a little more this time. "Besides, it's for your own good."

Tony rolled his eyes. He swallowed hard as if he was swallowing a rock and not soft yogurt.

"You'd do the same for me," Peter pointed out, raising a brow.

"Different," Tony argued. "You're a kid."

Peter shrugged. Tony seemed to lose whatever comeback he was trying to make up because his frustrated expression turned weary again. He refused to look at Peter as he took another bite.

"Listen, Tony," Peter started. Part of him was somewhat upset Tony didn't notice he dropped the formalities. He continued, "You and Aunt May are two people I can't live without. So if it's my turn to take care of you, I will. No matter what."

Tony's body tensed. Peter furrowed his brows in confusion.

"What?"

Tony coughed aggressively. He clutched his chest with one hand and more gingerly held his throat with the other. Peter put the yogurt down and reached for the bowl. Tony needed to keep the food in and he seemed to realize that. Tony was doing his damndest to keep his mouth shut, biting his lip to the point it was bleeding.

"Try to keep it in, Tony," Peter encouraged, though he felt awful for asking for such a thing. "Try to keep it in."

Trickles of spit slipped past Tony's lips and dripped off his chin. Peter helped Tony onto his side to stop him from choking on his vomit and whatever else was trying to come up. Tony's struggle to keep everything in only lasted a minute at most before it came to a sudden stop, just like before.

Tony lifted his eyes to meet Peter's. Peter could've cried, noticing the tears pooling in Tony's tired eyes. Peter lowered himself, picked up the washcloth and started cleaning the lower half of Tony's face. He did anything to avoid Tony's tears.

"I'm sorry, Tony," Peter mumbled. "I am so, so sorry."

Tony raised a shaking, weak hand, and plopped it on top of Peter's head. He ruffled his hair before his hand flopped back down onto the couch. The familiar action warmed Peter's heart, despite the situation.

"I really needed that."

Peter also really needed a hug. Big time.

XXX

He didn't intend to, but Peter ended up passing out around one in the morning. He tried as hard as possible to stay awake. The stress and exhaustion of looking after a poisoned Tony Stark weighed on him. He knew that if Tony was in a normal state, he'd definitely scold Peter for staying up so late.

Nightmares plagued Peter's sleep. Tony deteriorated in almost every dream. It wasn't always violent. Sometimes it was just Tony's heart stopping and Peter having to bury him. Then there were the gross ones where Tony's body withered away into bones and proceeded to turn into dust.

Peter never wanted to see Tony melt like that again.

"Peter…Kid? Pete…Peter…!"

Peter's eyes snapped open at Tony's desperate voice. He crawled to the couch in a hurry. He leaned over Tony and his eyes widened.

The bags under Tony's eyes were considerably darker than before. His skin was ghost white and his brown eyes were almost soulless. The man's heartbeat sounded worse than before too.

Peter took Tony's hand in his. It was cold.

"I love you, Pete."

Peter's breath hitched. He did his best to keep his breathing under control. Hyperventilating wouldn't do Tony or Peter any good. He couldn't stop his heart from racing.

"No," Peter said, shaking his head. "No, don't do that."

Tony smiled, feeble. "Proud to call you my kid."

Peter jerked to his feet, shaking his head more vigorously. Tears welled in his eyes.

"Don't do that, Tony!" Peter cried. "Don't you dare say goodbye!"

Tony seemed unfazed.

"Shit, shit, shit-!"

Peter darted out of the room and headed straight for the elevator. The doors were already opening. God bless FRIDAY. Peter practically jumped inside.

"FRIDAY, take me up to the medbay! Hurry, please hurry up!"

Peter's stomach dropped when the elevator shot upward. It reminded him of a rollercoaster, it was going so fast.

Peter squeezed through the elevator doors just as they were opening. He pushed whatever doctors that were in the way and forced his way to Doctor Banner's room. The man didn't turn to face him. He was hunched over working on what Peter assumed to be Tony's antidote.

"Doctor Banner, Tony is running out of time!"

"I know," Doctor Banner snapped. "Go, I have no time to talk."

Peter knew Doctor Banner didn't mean to be short with him. He and Tony were friends, good friends. Peter was stressed just watching Tony die on the couch. He didn't want to imagine the kind of stress Doctor Banner was going through to make an antidote in time.

Putting a hand on Doctor Banner's shoulder, Peter turned him around. Doctor Banner's face was scrunched up, either in frustration or concentration.

"You don't get it," Peter continued, panicking and losing his breath. "He told me he loved me! He wouldn't do that if he didn't know he was dying!"

"I know!" Doctor Banner yelled. He turned back to his work and took a long, deep breath. "Go back to him, Peter. Give me five more minutes."

"He doesn't have five more minutes, Doctor!"

"Give him five more minutes then! Get him to hold on, now go!"

Doctor Banner was probably going to Hulk out if Peter pressed him any further. That was the last thing anyone in the Tower needed. Peter kept his mouth shut and left the doctor to finish.

Halfway back to Tony was when Peter's tears started to leave his eyes. His gait slowed as he approached the couch. It didn't matter if he could still hear Tony's heartbeat, it could stop any second. Peter didn't know how he was going to get Tony to stay alive for five more minutes.

Peter collapsed on his knees for the umpteenth time that day. He sniffled and held Tony's cold hand again.

"Can you say it?" Tony requested, tiredly.

"Huh?" Peter sniffled again. "Oh…"

Of course he knew what Tony wanted him to say. It scared him. If he said it, Tony might decide that that was it. That was his time to finally let go.

"You know I do," Peter decided to say.

"Wanna hear you say it," Tony pressed. "Please. I'm tired. I wanna hear it."

"Can you wait a couple more minutes?" Peter pleaded. "Please, Doctor Banner is almost done."

Tony moaned and turned his head to the side. He licked his lips, worked his mouth for a moment. Peter patiently waited for whatever Tony was going to say.

"Should've told me," he eventually said. "Would've made this easier."

Peter wiped his hand over his wet eyes. "I just…I didn't want you to be scared, I guess."

More like Peter didn't want to say it out loud and accept there was a possibility that Tony would die. It was selfish, he knew.

Tony sighed, "Can you tell me what I want to hear?"

"Are you going to die right away if I do?"

Tony shrugged. "Been holding on this long."

Peter remained silent, eyeing Tony. He was struggling to keep his eyes open. Peter knew it also took a lot out of Tony just to talk.

"I don't wanna lose you," Peter murmured.

"Don't wanna lose you either," Tony admitted. "Been trying to fight this."

"Doctor Banner is almost done," Peter repeated. "So, please. Please keep fighting."

Tony sighed again, deeper this time. "I'm tryin'."

"I know."

"Can you say it? At least once," Tony implored again. "Just in case, Pete. Just in case. I want that to be the last-"

"Stop it, Dad!"

Tony closed his mouth, staring at Peter intently. Peter fiddled with his fingers, lowering his head.

"Sorry, I shouldn't yell."

However, it seemed like talking was keeping Tony awake. As long as he stayed awake, that's what mattered. Tony had to be awake when Doctor Banner arrived. If he fell asleep before then, that was it.

Peter combed his fingers through Tony's hair. "Thank you for trying so hard."

"Thank you for taking care of me."

Peter scoffed, "Trying. I think I could've done better."

"You did great," Tony countered. "Don't cry."

"That's too much to ask right now," Peter replied with a scowl.

Tony's eyes started to drift shut as the door slammed open. Peter's heartbeat picked up, felt like it was going to explode, as Doctor Banner ran in with medical supplies Peter didn't know.

Peter leaned down and gently kissed Tony's cheek.

"I love you, Dad. I love you so, so much. I love you."

Doctor Banner pried Peter away from Tony, not intending to be rough, Peter knew, and then shooed Peter out of the room.

It was two in the morning. Peter stumbled to his room, trying not to think about how horrible Tony looked when he left. Peter flopped onto his bed and curled up.

He pulled his phone from his pocket and called Aunt May. It wasn't fair to call this late. She no doubt worked a long day and didn't need to be woken up. But Peter needed someone. He needed his Aunt May to help him feel better because Tony couldn't.

Much to his surprise, Aunt May answered after only three rings.

"Peter?"

"Aunt May," Peter said, hoarsely.

"How is Tony?" Aunt May's voice was so soft and caring.

That broke the dam. Tears poured much faster down Peter's cheeks. He sobbed profusely and curled in on himself even more.

"The poison's killing him Aunt May," Peter wailed. "I don't know if he's going to make it. The poison's trying to take him away."

Just because Doctor Banner got the antidote ready to go, didn't necessarily mean it was going to work, no less work right away. Peter only realized this now and it made him sob that much harder.

Peter will wake up in the morning.

Tony might not.

"Tony's-" he cut himself off. "Tony's going to-"

"Shh, Peter," Aunt May interrupted, gently. Peter tried to imagine her hugging him. "This is Tony Stark we're talking about. Do you know how many times he's cheated death? According to Happy, plenty of times."

"But this might be it," Peter said. "And I don't know what to do. I tried so hard to help."

"And that's all you could do," Aunt May said. "You did your best. Tony will always be proud of you. You know that."

Peter nodded and whimpered, "I know."

"Do you want me to stay on the phone with you until you fall asleep?"

"Yes, please. I need to hear your voice."

XXX

The sun nearly blinded Peter when he opened his dry, dusty eyes. He lazily waved to the ceiling, a silent request for FRIDAY to dim the windows. While she did that, Peter sat up slowly to avoid getting a headache. His phone was next to him. Peter turned it on and blinked.

It was almost four in the evening, much later than it looked outside. Peter didn't remember waking up prior to this. He wasn't going in and out of sleep like Tony had done. Peter didn't even remember the dreams- nightmares he had during his sleep. It was all black as he tried to recall.

Peter groaned and ran a hand through his messy hair. He decided it was time to ask the dreaded question.

"Where's Tony, FRIDAY?"

Six feet under? In a box?

"Doctor Banner transferred him to his bedroom at approximately eight in the morning," FRIDAY dutifully answered. "Doctor Banner went back to rest at home at eleven. Instructions on how to take care of Boss are on his nightstand. Doctor Banner also provided the necessary medicine to help Boss recover."

Peter couldn't process what FRIDAY said. Tony looked like death when Peter was forced out of the room. Now FRIDAY was telling him that Tony wasn't in a coffin? Peter and the others who loved Tony didn't have to bury him?

"You mean Tony is fine? Like, alive? Alive, alive?"

"Yes, Peter," FRIDAY replied, her voice surprisingly soft. "His vitals are stable now. He's out of harm's way."

"He's not at Death's door?" Peter asked again.

"No, Peter," FRIDAY repeated. "Boss will be okay. According to Doctor Banner, it will take some time for him to make a full recovery and he will be bedridden for a couple days. But he is safe."

"Holy…"

Peter closed his eyes and evened out his breathing. It felt as if a huge weight was lifted off his shoulders. Doctor Banner was a miracle worker. Peter had to find a way to thank him someday. Someday, but for now, Peter desperately wanted to see Tony. He wanted to hear his voice. He wanted to see if he looked any healthier.

"He's in his room?" Peter confirmed. "Is he awake?"

"Despite my recommendations to sleep, Boss is awake." FRIDAY sounded exasperated. Peter almost laughed. "He is very stubborn. Perhaps one of the reasons he's alive."

"Probably," Peter chuckled.

Even with FRIDAY's reassurances that Tony was alive, Peter still tried to prepare himself to see Tony dark-eyed and ghost white. If he was desperate enough, he might call Aunt May and ask her to apply make-up to Tony to get rid of his scary appearance. Of course, that was the delusional side of his mind talking.

Peter gently knocked on Tony's door before opening it a crack. He refused to open it further until Tony spoke.

"Get in here, kid."

Peter smiled at the clarity of Tony's voice. It didn't sound like someone tore his throat apart. He entered the room and quietly closed the door behind him. He stayed where he was.

Tony had plenty of pillows under him to help him sit upright. Peter sucked in a breath as Tony turned his head in his direction. He immediately looked down, afraid to see. Tony sighed.

"Come on, get over here," Tony prompted.

Peter shuffled toward the bed. He sat on the edge and close to Tony's side but he still didn't look at his face. He tried to keep it that way until Tony placed a hand, a warm hand, under his chin and forced his head up.

"I'm okay," Tony reassured, smiling.

Peter smiled slightly. Tony was still pale but not as horribly as before. He looked like an actual human being, not a ghost or vampire. Tony had his telltale bags under his eyes, but they weren't purple any longer. The bruised look was gone.

"Good to see you again," Peter said, voice shaky. "Good to hear your real voice."

Tony lowered his hand and rested it on his chest. "Still kinda tired. Forced to take medicine."

"It's for your own good," Peter said, pouting.

"Yeah, I know, I know." Tony waved him off.

Peter's heart warmed as Tony continued to talk back to him and banter. Peter wasn't sure if he'd ever get that back.

They sat in companionable silence for half an hour before Tony spoke up. His voice was somewhat raspy again, so Peter grabbed the nearby water bottle on his nightstand and waited for Tony to say what he needed to say.

"Listen, Pete," Tony began. "I know I scared you."

Peter scoffed. That was an understatement.

"I'm sorry," Tony apologized, genuinely. "Really."

"I know. It's not your fault."

A person or thing was at fault for Tony getting poisoned. It scared Peter that they still had no answers as to how this happened. Perhaps it was better that they didn't have answers. Tony was alive, that's what Peter cared about.

"You're not allowed to get poisoned again," Peter ordered, an attempt to tease. "You're not allowed to get that close to death again."

Tony laughed, "Sure, kiddo. I'll stay away from death."

Peter crossed his arms. "You better."

Tony said, "So. You're calling me 'Tony' now, huh?"

"Oh, I thought you didn't notice."

"I didn't at first. Then I had all these weird flashes while I was sleeping."

"What, like your life flashing before your eyes?"

"Sure as hell seemed like it," Tony snorted.

"You really feel better now?" Peter asked again.

"I do," Tony confirmed, shrugging. "I mean, I still feel like shit but not to the point of dying."

"Good," Peter sighed, slumping in relief. "FRIDAY told me but I wanted to hear it from you."

Tony smiled softly and ruffled Peter's hair. Peter leaned into the touch longingly. Tony reached over and pulled Peter onto the bed more comfortably. Peter rested his head on Tony's chest and listened to his heartbeat.

"How is it?" Tony whispered.

"Better."

Tony kissed the top of Peter's head.

"Love you, kid."

"Love you, too."

Everything was going to be alright.


Author's Note: Whoo-boy. This was a rough one to write. It's definitely one of my longer one-shots, if not the longest I've written in a while.

Also, I know Banner came off kinda rough but like it's mentioned, he's good friends with Tony and he's under a lot of stress to make an antidote in time. He doesn't want his friend to die. Oh, and I purposefully left how Tony got poisoned unanswered. Ya'll can decide just how he got poisoned.

That's all for now. I'll see ya'll in the next one.

Thanks for reading!

~Kurosaki