Peter squinted down through the magnifying glass hovering over his Webshooter, he carefully brought the hand with the tweezers closer towards the tiny wires in the shooter, Tony watching intently from behind. He pinched the tweezers over a broken blue wire, and slowly started to retract it.

"Look out for the red wire," Tony advised, eyeing the wire poking out a little close to the blue.

Peter nodded slowly, barely breathing as he continued to move the wire. "I got it," Peter whispered, almost passing the red wire.

A crash sounded from behind them, and he startled, knocking the blue wire into the red. The reaction was instantaneous, the wires touched, and the shooter exploded, sending web and smoke up into his face.

Tony whirled around to where the crash sounded, coming face to face with his most stupid robot. "DUM-E!" He shouted as Peter coughed harshly in the background. DUM-E drooped in an apologetic manner, and scurried off, knocking stuff over on his way. "I swear, the next time that robot breaks something I'm gonna toss him in the dumpster." Tony crossed his arms irritably, rubbing a hand across his face.

"Uh …, Mr. Stark?"

Tony turned at his name, and instantly jumped into action, grabbing a fire extinguisher and pushing Peter to the side as he put out the growing flames. Once the smoke and fire was dispersed, he turned to Peter, cringing at the mess that he was. The kid had web all over his body, dangling off his shirt, and tangling in his hair. His face was tinted gray from the smoke, and he was still coughing here and there. "You okay, kid?" He asked, stepping forward to try and peel off some of the sticky webbing.

Peter coughed as he pulled some web from his hair, smiling slightly at Tony, the expression sheepish. "Yeah, I think I'm okay." He croaked. "Just burnt my fingers a little."

Tony took ahold of Peter's hand, making him splay his fingers so he could get a better look. The fingers for the most part looked fine, a little red and blistered, but nothing Spider-Man's super healing couldn't fix. He let go of Peter's hand, and combed his fingers through his hair. "Sorry bout that, kiddo," he apologized, clapping the kid on the shoulder.

Peter smiled, and shrugged. "It's fine, don't blame the little guy," he rasped.

The way Peter's voice sounded concerned Tony, but he pushed the worry down, nudging the kid playfully.

"You don't blame anybody, you see the sunshine in everyone," he teased, ruffling Peter's hair, regretting it a moment later when his hand got stuck to multiple strands of web.

Peter laughed, instantly turning into a cough. He pressed his fingers to his throat gently, and swallowed thickly with a wince. Tony narrowed his eyes at him, worry creasing his face. "You okay?" He asked as he pulled his hands free of the web.

Peter nodded slightly, swiping his tongue over his chapped lips. "Yeah, think I just inhaled a little bit of smoke," he admitted hoarsely, coughing a bit after. "Could I have some water, Please?"

Tony nodded instantly, and made his way over to the sink Pepper made him put in, filling a styrofoam cup once there. Peter thanked Tony once he handed him the cup, and all but drained the cup in two seconds, a relieved look coming to his face. "Better?" Tony crossed his arms, leaning up against his work bench.

Peter nodded, and beamed at Tony as he tossed his cup in the trash. "Much better," he said gratefully, his voice sounding a lot better. "Thank you."

Tony smirked, and reached over to squeeze Peter's shoulder. "No problem, kid."

Peter blushed awkwardly, but smiled at Tony anyways. "Cool," he said, glancing at the floor, spotting all the web covering his clothes, and making a displeased face.

Tony laughed at Peter's expression, and gave the kids shoulder one last squeeze before pulling back, and motioning him towards the door. "C'mon, let's go get you cleaned up, and maybe after I'll let you watch Star Wars." He smirked at the kid's wide eyed look.

Peter nodded, and grinned as he followed behind Tony. "Okay, sounds good," he said, trying to prevent webs from falling on the floor.

Tony smiled, and the two of them left the room, leaving DUM-E to clean up the mess.

The evening was spent cuddled up on the couch, binging Star Wars and eating popcorn. But something didn't feel right to Peter, the sandpapery feeling returned to his throat, and water wasn't really helping, nor was the popcorn, just making it feel like someone was taking a razor blade to his throat. He didn't think he had taken in that much smoke, but he was starting to question himself.

"Are you doing alright, kid?" Tony finally asked after the twentieth stifled cough. "Your starting to sound like a dying duck."

Peter huffed at the observation, but gave Tony a reassuring smile. "I'm pretty sure ducks don't sound like that, but yeah, I'm fine, just have a kernel stuck in the back of my throat," he lied, taking a drink of water for emphasis.

Tony looked at him for a moment, but he eventually shrugged, and turned back to the movie to Peter's relief.

The next morning it was no better, in fact, it was worse. His throat no longer felt like sandpaper, it now felt like he was swallowing shards of glass. Peter shoved his face into his pillow, and let out a harsh cough, it sounding dry and painful. He squeezed his eyes shut, willing the tears to go away that stung his eyes.

A knock sounded at his door, followed by a voice, and Peter buried himself deeper into his sheets. "Wakey wakey, kid, breakfast's getting cold," Tony called through the door, the smirk clear in his voice. Peter didn't respond, knowing he probably wouldn't be able to.

"Kid?" Tony called again, a hint of worry in his humored voice. "Are you already sick of me?"

Peter cringed, and tried to tell Tony that he could come in, but all that came out was a raspy squeak. His eyes widened, and he sprung out of bed, ignoring the vertigo from the sudden movement as he rushed to fling open his bedroom door, his eyes wild. "'Ny," is all he could manage, the minimal syllables feeling like knives in his throat, and he couldn't help the small wine of pain that sounded in the back of his throat.

"Kid?" Tony asked after his short moment of surprise, his humor long gone. "What's wrong, Why do you sound like that?"

Peter opened his mouth to respond, but all that came out was a jumble of indistinguishable half developed words and squeaks. He eventually gave up trying to tell Tony verbally, so he just shook his head and pressed his fingers against his throat, his eyes still wide with panic.

Tony's anxiety peaked when Peter couldn't get out anything intelligible, and his heart cracked slightly at the fear in the kids eyes. He understood what Peter was saying when he placed his hands against his throat, the kid couldn't speak, but why?

Then it hit Tony like a ton of bricks, and he instantly started dragging Peter towards the med bay. The smoke, the kid had took in too much smoke, and now it was stuck in his lungs, that had to be what it was. Tony could've kicked himself for not seeing it sooner, the signs were all there, coughing, wheezing, constantly drinking water like something was in his throat, it wasn't a damn popcorn kernel, it was smoke.

"FRIDAY," Tony demanded, pulling Peter along by his shoulder. "Send Bruce to the med bay, tell him what's happening.'

Peter's eyes widened further, and he moved to pull away from Tony, but Tony just held on tighter, whispering words of encouragement as FRIDAY responded. "Bruce Banner has been contacted, he is on his way to your chosen location.'

"Thanks, FRIDAY." Tony turned to Peter, a serious look on his face. "Kid, I need you to answer me honestly here, okay? But none of that talking shit, just nod or shake your head."

Peter nodded, and Tony squeezed his shoulder appreciatively. "Your a natural," he praised, receiving a small smile out of the frightened boy. "Okay, first question, are you having a hard time breathing?"

Peter hesitated, and Tony gave him a stern look. The kid ducked his head, but shrugged and gave a small nod, making Tony curse internally. He sighed worriedly, and combed his fingers through his hair, pausing the questions briefly to press one of the buttons in the elevator. "Okay," he breathed, patting Peter gently on the back as the elevator doors slid shut. "Does your throat hurt? If so show me how painful by using your fingers as numbers, one being the least amount of pain, and ten being my throat feels like it's being ripped in half."

Peter let out a noise that sounded like it was supposed to be a laugh, but it instantly got cut off with a harsh cough that brought tears to the kids eyes. Peter nodded at Tony's question, and held up eight fingers. Tony couldn't help bringing the kid into a well deserved hug. "Sorry, kiddo, no more jokes until you can laugh properly without it hurting," he said before ruffling the kid's hair. "At least I'll try, you're just so easy to joke with."

Peter quirked a small, pained smile, and turned his face into the cloth of Tony's shirt, wrapping his arms around his neck. Tony tensed at Peter's action, but instantly relaxed, he knew the kid needed this, and he wasn't going to be the one to take it away, he had made too many mistakes in his life, it was time to do something right for a change.

A few moments later the elevator doors opened, and Tony ushered Peter out quickly, heading straight towards their destination. Tony could feel the anxiety circling the kid, and he did the one thing he knew would help, even a little bit. He wrapped an arm around Peter's shoulders, squeezing him into his side gently, and he could see the slight surprise on the kid's face, but also relief.

They arrived at the med bay a minute later, Bruce was waiting for them inside, standing by a machine with two small tubes connected to it, making Peter tense once again. "Hello, Peter," Bruce greeted as Tony sat the kid down on the gurney. "It's nice to see you again, it sucks that it has to be in this situation though."

Peter smiled shyly, and nodded, looking between Bruce and Tony nervously. Bruce shared a worried glance with Tony before turning back to Peter, pulling a chair over in front of him so they were at eye level. "So, I heard you've been having a bit of pain in your throat, is that correct?"

Peter nodded, and Bruce continued, gently pulling the kids hands up in between the both of them. "Can you give me a number of how painful?" He asked as Tony took a seat beside him.

Peter nodded, hesitated, then held up eight fingers like he'd done before. Bruce nodded, and let go of Peter's wrists, letting the boy put them back down on his lap. "I also heard you were having a hard time breathing, is that also correct, And if so, is it still hard?" He questioned as he rolled over to his desk to retrieve a notepad.

Peter nodded twice, and Bruce handed him the pad with a pen. "Can you write down how it feels when you breathe?" He asked, and Peter nodded timidly, starting to jot down words.

A few seconds later he finished writing, and handed the notepad back to Bruce, an uncomfortable expression on his face as the doctor went over it, Tony looking over his shoulder.

Bruce nodded After he finished reading, and set the pad back at his desk, seeing Tony looking at Peter with a worried expression from out of the corner of his eye. Bruce picked up a pin light, and rolled back over to Peter, a soft smile on his face. "Alright, Peter, can I have a look at your throat?" He asked gently, turning on the small flashlight.

The kid hesitated, playing with the hem of his shirt nervously, but he eventually nodded, and opened his mouth, revealing the back of his throat that was raw and discolored. Bruce pursed his lips as he furrowed one eyebrow in thought, moving back away from Peter to write something down on his computer.

"So what's the diagnosis, Doc Mc Stuffins?" Tony asked, his worry covering the humor, despite his attempts of sounding relaxed.

Bruce sighed, and turned back to Tony and Peter, his hands clasped in his lap. "It seems he has something irritating his lungs, making it raw and discolored," he recalled from what he saw. "What's irritating it? I'm not sure, did he eat or inhale anything that you know of, Tony?"

Tony glanced at Peter, but the kid didn't meet his eye, more interested in the gray fabric of his shirt. He sighed, and turned to Bruce with a nod. "Yes, and I'm pretty damn positive that it's the reason." He combed his fingers through his hair, and Bruce raised an eyebrow before turning back to his computer, making a prompting noise in the back of his throat. "We were in the lab last night, working on one of the kids Webshooters, long story short, it blew up in his face, and I'm pretty sure he inhaled a pretty large amount of smoke," Tony continued, glancing at Peter every once and a while.

Bruce nodded as he typed on his keyboard, sighing once finished, and turning his chair back to the pair. "That tells me a lot." He stood up from his chair to sit beside Peter on the bed. "I know what I have to do."

Tony and Peter looked at the doctor expectantly, the hem of Peter's shirt getting twisted in his hands nervously. Bruce sighed, and placed a gentle hand on the kid's shoulder. "I'm going to have to clean out your lungs, and that would be done by using this machine." He gestured to the contraption with the two tubes. "What I would be doing is going in through your nose, and making my way down through the back of your throat, this could be done two ways, one, you could be put down under with anesthesia, or, I could numb you and do it that way, with you being awake.'

Peter bit his lip,and looked down at his lap, spotting Tony's hand squeezing his knee encouragingly. "Mind you, the second choice will be more uncomfortable, and maybe painful depending on your pain tolerance," Bruce continued gently, trying to make the kid's choice easier for him.

I honestly think you should do the anesthesia, kid, that way you won't have to feel anything." Tony moved his hand to Peter's shoulder, squeezing gently.

Peter swallowed thickly, wincing at the stab of pain that came along with it. He roamed his eyes around the room in thought, and spotted a tray of supplies in the corner of the room, one of the things on the tray being a needle, and his heart stuttered for a brief second, fear flashing in his eyes. He shook his head quickly, holding up one finger to indicate that he "DID NOT" want to do the first choice.

Tony's brow creased in concern, and stared him straight in the eye, trying to find any fault in that silent statement. He found none. "Are you sure, kid?" He asked dubiously, glancing at Bruce for a brief second.

Peter nodded without a trace of hesitation, and the two adults shared a look. Bruce sighed, and nodded seriously. "If that's what you want.," he said calmly before standing from the bed, heading to the sink to wash his hands and put on latex gloves. "Give me a minute to prep everything."

Peter nodded, and curled his fingers into the edge of the thin mattress, leaving small dents in the foamy material. Tony gave the kid a worried look, but Peter kept his gaze fixated on the tile floor.

A couple minutes later Bruce finished with what he was doing, and walked over to Peter, a small squeeze bottle in his hand. "Can you lay back for me, Peter?" He asked with a slight raise of his eyebrow, pressing a lever with his foot that made the head of the bed rise.

Peter glanced at Tony, then back at Bruce, giving a slight nod as he eased himself against the lifted part of the bed. Bruce smiled at Peter as he stepped next to him, holding out the bottle for the kid to see. "All this is going to do is numb your nose and throat, nothing to worry about except for maybe a gross taste in your mouth," he explained. "I'm just going to squirt it through your nose, so can you lean your head back a bit?"

Peter nodded, and did as he was told, squeezing Tony's hand when he put it in his. Bruce nodded, and did the first squirt, Peter's face instantly expressing disgust. "Ugh," he croaked, unable to keep the noise from escaping.

Tony couldn't help laughing at the kids expression, and he recieved a sharp glare in response. Bruce did the last squirt, and Tony laughed harder at the utterly revolted look on the kids face. Bruce chuckled, and set the bottle aside, pushing the machine with the tubes over a moment later, instantly quieting Tony's laughter. "Alright, are you ready?" The doctor asked, slightly holding up the tube with the tiny camera on it.

Peter stared at the tube for a moment, an indecisive look on his face, but he eventually squeezed his eyes shut and nodded, holding onto Tony's hand tightly. "Okay," Bruce said, starting to move the tube in. "This may make you gag, so if that happens just stay calm,"

Peter took a stuttering breath through his mouth, and not even a moment later he gagged, a slightly pained look on his face as the tube slid down, and Tony's heart broke at the tears shimmering in the kids eyes, he couldn't imagine what it felt like to have something shoved down your throat that already hurt enough. The process of sucking out the gunk from Peter's throat repeated once again by going in through the other nostril, and by the time it was finished, it had been twenty minutes, and Tony's fingers felt broken from how hard the kid was squeezing them.

"Alright, I'm finished," Bruce announced softly as he retracted the tube from Peter's nose, throwing both the tubes in the garbage once done.

"How you feelin', kid?" Tony asked quietly, trying to get the kid to open his eyes.

Peter took in a shaky inhale, and slightly cleared his throat, wincing the slightest bit. "C'can I have s'some water?" He asked in a hoarse whisper, opening his tired eyes, still being slightly wet with tears of pain.

Tony couldn't help giving a relieved smile, Peter would never know how much he loved his bright cheerful voice. Bruce nodded at the kid's request, and went over to the sink to fill up a cup, giving it to the kid a moment later.

Peter rasped out a thank you, and began to sip at the water, instant relief showing in his eyes. The water was drained quickly, and Tony tossed the cup in the trash for the kid.

"Thank you guys," Peter whispered, his eyelids drooping shut a moment later.

Tony and Bruce shared a smile before the doctor left, giving Tony strict instructions to make sure the kid drank plenty of water, and took painkillers.

And Tony carried Peter back up to his room in the penthouse, his back protesting the whole way.

But Tony didn't give a shit.

A/N: Another old Fanfiction I decided to edit and post. During writing this I definitely didn't care about whether the medical information was correct or not, so don't take any of that seriously, lol. Do take seriously that smoke inhalation isn't good, so please be careful, you could put holes in your lungs.

Thank you for reading.