Sicktember Alt. #4 - Taking a Sick Day, 3. Painkillers, 18. Nausea/Upset Stomach Alt #1 Soft Pajamas. Painkillers.

It had only been two weeks since May had asked to add Tony to Peter's emergency contact list at the school, but there it was on his phone: Midtown Tech. After a brief mental breakdown, (really, it was brief, compared to many he'd had) about being actually considered responsible enough for such a thing, he'd had FRIDAY program any possible numbers from the school to come through even a "Do Not Disturb." But he was still surprised to see it on a random Thursday morning.

"Hello?"

"Yes, is this an 'Antonio S.?'"

"It is."

"I have you listed as Peter Parker's secondary emergency contact?"

"Yep, that's correct. Is he okay?"

"I've got Peter here in the nurse's office. He's got a migraine, and it's bad enough that he just threw up. He said meds don't really work for him, and he's asked to go home. But then he saw that his aunt was called into work at the last minute today. Are you available to pick Peter up?"

"Uh, yes, of course. I'll be there in… FRI?"

"Twenty minutes, Boss."

"In twenty minutes."

Tony tried to remember if the kid's aunt had mentioned that he got migraines, but he couldn't recall. A migraine bad enough that Peter went to the nurse; that sounded rough. Thankfully Tony was available today. What would have happened to Peter if he wasn't? Would they have been able to get a hold of May at work, and would she have even been able to leave? Suddenly he understood why she had asked to add him. Tony's mom had usually been available if he got sick like that, but if she wasn't, Jarvis or Anna could always pick him up. It would be hard to parent a kid on your own, with no family support, like she's been doing since Peter's uncle had died.

"FRI, please cancel my 10 o'clock."

"Already done, Boss."

"Hap, we're headed to Midtown Tech instead." Happy gave him a weird look, but complied by preparing to make a U-turn. Tony continued working on his laptop for a few minutes, sending a few notes out about the cancellation and about a few other meetings he may not make it to that morning and early afternoon.

—

Eighteen minutes later they pulled into the school parking lot, and Tony entered through the front office. The lady there was a no-nonsense sort, and only widened her eyes and looked up at him sharply when he presented his ID. She compared it to Peter's emergency contact information in her system, and sent him to the nurse's office with concise instructions.

When Tony walked into the nurse's office, he was surprised to find the kid's friend, Ned. "Oh my gosh! Mr. Stark!" the kid squeaked.

"Ted," Tony drawled. He still wasn't sure what to think of this kid after he'd helped Peter hack his suit in D.C., but the more he got to know Peter and how determined he was when he thought he was in the right, the less he blamed Ned . And wanted to hire him, eventually.

The nurse walked in and did a bit of a double take. After a moment she finally cleared her voice to speak. "You're the 'Antonio S.' on Peter's emergency contact list?"

"The very same. Can I take him now?"

"Ned, as you see, someone is here for Peter. He'll be fine. Will you please go back to class now?"

"Uh, yes, Ms. Brewer." Then to Tony: "Tell him I hope he feels better? Uh, lights and… and sounds are way too much for him right now," he said, doing some weird attempted signal with his eyebrows and looking back and forth between the room where Peter must be and Tony. Huh. So maybe he wasn't dealing with a simple migraine.

"Yes, yes, Ned. That happens with a migraine," said the nurse patiently, ushering him out. Tony could see the concern etched into the boy's face.

"I'll take care of him, Ned," he said reassuringly. "Go." Ned's face finally relaxed as he nodded, and he gave into the nurse's shoo-ing.

"In here?" Tony said, hand on the doorknob. He was getting tired of waiting, when it sounded like Peter was probably in pain and needed to get home into a bed.

She nodded, and he entered the room, which was thankfully dim. His eyes adjusted after a moment and he could see a Peter-shaped lump on the narrow couch.

"Hey, kid," Tony said softly.

"Mr. Stark?" Peter said blearily, sounding confused. "Thought I heard your voice, but figured I'd finally fallen asleep," he said, still subdued.

"What's going on? The nurse said you have a migraine?"

"Uh, yeah, kinda. Why… um, how are you here?"

"Aunt May is at work, so they called me."

Peter squinted up at him, obviously still confused.

"Your aunt put me as an emergency contact a few weeks ago."

Peter's eyes widened, then he immediately clenched them closed in what looked like pain.

"Oh. I didn't know. Um, sorry that… sorry that you had to come."

"No, Pete, it's fine. You want to go?"

"Yeah?" He sounded pretty unsure. Hmm. Tony wondered what was going on with the Spiderling.

"Is this really a migraine? What's happening here, bud?" he asked softly. Peter was quiet for a moment.

"Well, you know how my senses are usually at 11?" Tony nodded. "Sometimes they dial up to like a 20, and all the sounds, and the light, and even the smells make me sick. Feels like a migraine, I think. Everything is too much and it just hurts." The last word was laced with pain. Apparently exhausted after getting all that information out, Peter curled in on himself, not seeming to know if he wanted his hands over his eyes or over his ears.

Oh. That… that made a lot of sense. Well, it might be better to get him back to the Tower instead of home then. All of the bedrooms there had room-darkening and soundproofing technology, and he didn't know if the kid should be left alone at home like this if his aunt was going to be gone all day.

"Well, I don't think it's going to get better any time soon. What say we get you out of here before the bell rings and the hall fills up with loud, sweaty teenagers again? Can't imagine that would be pleasant."

Peter groaned. "Yeah. Probably."

"Here," Tony said, handing Peter his own sunglasses. "FRI, set those to as dark as possible."

"Come on, bud, let's go," he said, offering his hand to pull Peter up.

Peter stood gingerly and Tony put his arm around the teen to steer him through the door. He didn't know how well he could see through the dark lenses, or if he even had his eyes open. Halfway down the hall, he realized the kid had his face pushed into Tony's shoulder. He obviously wasn't watching where they were going, just trusting Tony to steer him safely. For some reason, that faith filled his chest with warmth.

Peter cringed when they walked outside, and he pressed his face even harder into Tony.

When they reached the car where Happy was waiting, Tony opened the back door for Peter and put his hand on his head as the kid stumbled into it, trying to keep him from hitting the frame. Peter groaned again, then said softly, "Would you maybe, um… sit back here with me?"

Huh. "Sure, kid," Tony said, sliding in smoothly next to him.

Instead of scooting to the other side, Peter was still in the middle, and he seemed to hesitate before finally speaking. "Do you mind if I possibly, uh, keep leaning on your shoulder?" He was so hesitant, but quickly continued with an explanation. "When I can just concentrate on how you smell, and on your heartbeat, it helps keep the other sounds and smells away, and helps me not feel so sick. I really don't want to throw up in your car," he said with a cringe.

Tony's eyebrows shot up. Oh, well, that was interesting. And he'd definitely like to avoid that too.

"Sorry, I know that's kinda weird." Peter looked miserable in more ways than one.

"No, kid, that's fine. I'm glad something helps."

Tony raised his arm, inviting the kid in, and he slid against him, his face buried in Tony's shoulder again, a soft sigh of relief accompanying the movement.

"To the Tower, please, Hap." Tony said. Happy's face in the rearview mirror as he watched all of this was quite entertaining. Totally worth the whole ordeal of being inside a high school nurse's office.

"The Tower?" asked Peter softly.

"Yeah, kid. You shouldn't be alone until this resolves. Does it happen often? How do you usually get your senses recalibrated, or whatever?"

"It happened more at first. Not so much now. If I notice it's starting and I can lay down somewhere dark and quiet for a bit, it usually stops. I only noticed it as I was leaving for school this morning. Probably should have taken a sick day, but I've missed a lot this year already. Hoped it would just go away."

After such a long speech, Peter sagged into Tony's side, breathing slowly. They were silent the rest of the trip, and when they reached the Tower, Tony helped Peter up to the guest room, asking FRIDAY to turn the lights to a lower setting through the whole area as they walked through.

Tony wondered if Peter's other senses were heightened too. "Hey, Pete, are you good in your school clothes, or do you maybe want something softer? Would that help at all?

Peter had handed the sunglasses back when they reached the room, which FRIDAY had already darkened to low levels. He seemed to consider, then said, "That would actually be really nice. My clothes feel kinda stiff and scratchy right now. I hadn't thought about it, since the other senses were more intense."

"Okay, I'll go find you something. Do you think you can eat anything? Can I get you water?" Pepper would be so proud. He was thinking of all the things, and trying hard to anticipate someone else's needs.

"I thought there were clothes in here?" Peter said, gesturing toward the dresser he'd borrowed pajamas out of a few times. "I don't think I can eat yet, but I can try some water. Sorry you have to do all this, Mr. Stark," he finished roughly, his voice cracking a tiny bit.

"Nope, no sorries. I'm glad I'm available to help. Those clothes are all pretty new, and might still have some store smells on them from being in the drawer; I've got some softer stuff down the hall." Peter nodded gratefully.

Tony moved into his own room, and rifled around in his drawers until he found some old flannel pajama pants with a drawstring (the kid was still a little too skinny, though he had definitely put on more weight since he'd started eating enough finally) and one of his t-shirts from his college days. It had been washed so many times there wasn't much left to it, and it was super soft. Tony was momentarily grateful that they used unscented stuff in all the laundry, since Pepper was a little sensitive to chemicals. As a last minute thought he also grabbed one of his old sweatshirts from MIT that had worn well over the years.

He brought the clothes and a bottle of water for Peter, who was curled into a ball on top of the comforter.

"Here, change into these, and I'll set this water on the bedside table here. You definitely don't want to get dehydrated on top of everything else."

He waited as the kid changed, answering a few angry texts from Pepper about his cancellations, explaining what was going on with the kid. Mollified, she reminded him that Dr. Cho had finished the painkillers formulated specifically for Peter's spider-altered physiology, and they were ready for him to try. Now why didn't I think of that? thought Tony irritably.

"Pete? I'll be right back," he said to the closed door.

He ran down to Medbay to grab the pills. Thankfully the tech knew where to find them, and handed Tony the bottle without any questions.

When Tony walked back into the guest room, Peter was just exiting the bathroom. "Hey kid? Dr. Cho has these painkillers ready for you. Do you think today would be a good time to try them?"

"Uh, yeah, maybe." Peter held out his hand, and Tony dropped two into it, handing him the bottle of water, too. Peter swallowed them, and cautiously sipped about half the bottle, looking at Tony for approval or something. Tony smiled at him, and held out his hand to take the bottle back.

Peter climbed under the sheets of the bed, and curled on his side with a sigh. "These are ser'sly the softest sheets, Mr. Stark," he slurred. Tony smiled, thinking of the kid's probably reaction if he knew how much they had cost.

"FRIDAY, please soundproof this room, and cut the remaining lights to 5%."

She did, and he heard Peter sigh again. "That's great, sir, thanks."

"You really gotta stop it with the 'sir' stuff, Spider-kid," Tony said gruffly, ruffling the kid's hair with overly gentle fingers.

"'M trying to get enough in the 'sir jar' for you to buy some better music for the workshop," Peter teased drowsily.

"You little punk. There is nothing wrong with my music," he growled back, happy that the kid was up to any kind of banter. He removed his hand, and the kid made a muffled whining sound. Tony wasn't sure what to do, but he hated seeing Peter in pain, and wanted to help more if he could.

"Um, did that feel good? Do you need me to stay for a few minutes?"

"No, sir, you're fine to go. You've already done so much for me." He could tell the kid felt embarrassed about either all the perceived trouble he'd been, or maybe about the noise he'd just made.

"But would it help? Are you still concentrating on, uh, me to help filter your senses?"

Peter didn't reply for a moment, and Tony briefly wondered if he had fallen asleep. "Yeah. You help a lot, actually," the boy said so quietly he could barely hear him.

Okay, then. Tony toed off his shoes and took off his suit jacket. "Scoot a bit, kiddo."

Peter did, and Tony sat on top of the covers next to him, getting as comfortable as he could against the headboard.

The kid hadn't moved at all, and Tony pushed away the slight awkwardness of this whole thing and said, "Well, come on."

Peter scooted his head to the edge of his pillow, nose pressed into Tony's lower side, and blew out a long, slow breath. Tony carefully lowered his hand into the kid's soft curls, and scratched lightly at his scalp the way Pepper had taught him to do for her.

"That good, or too much?"

"No, 's great, Mr. Stark." The kid sounded almost asleep, and Tony settled back to see if he could get some one-handed work done on his phone while he waited for the kid to hopefully conk out. With any luck the rest and the meds would help him feel better when he woke up.

If you had told Tony Stark four months ago that he'd have an ailing teenage superhero curled into his side while he ran his fingers through said kid's hair to help him fall asleep, he probably would have laughed his head off. Yet, here he was. And he was surprisingly okay with it.