Heat Stroke

Apparently it was the hottest summer that Peter had ever experienced. Tony had no idea if that was actually true…the kid tended towards exaggeration. But he had to admit, it was pretty warm outside, at least according to Friday, and had been for the last week or so. It was something Peter had mentioned the week before on the phone while he'd been patrolling…Tony hadn't left his lab for a while, and he hadn't seen the kid in a month. Having the kid come all the way out to the compound every month wasn't ideal, but he didn't exactly love the idea of moving back to the city either. To be honest, after everything, he was feeling kind of reclusive.

He was trying with the kid though. Peter had his number. Tony tried to call him once a week or so to check in while he was patrolling. May Parker also had his number, which she had used to have a long, icy conversation with him about the fact that he'd taken her child out of the country to fight superheros without telling her, but that was fair so he didn't hold that against her. But things seemed to be going well with Peter. His aunt had more rules for him when it came to patrolling Queens, but crime was down, and the public loved Spider-Man for the most part, so he had no complaints.

Tony had offered the boy the internship partially out of a sense of guilt…the kid had tried so hard and he'd done a good job of taking down the Vulture, and he'd done it without his suit. He owed him. So once a month, Peter came out to the Compound and worked with Tony in the lab. Well…he worked on the internship projects Tony came up for him, and Tony mostly did his own work, helping out sometimes.

He'd come up with the idea in January after a long day of trying not to give into his urge to have a drink while watching news coverage of the whole Avengers situation. Some nutjob thought they'd spotted Steve in Harlem, and Ross was being a prick as usual, so Tony had turned the news off, ignoring the blinking light that told him Ross was still on hold, and headed down to the lab, desperate for a project.

So far, the kid had come by six times, always polite and respectful and hesitant, but Tony didn't know how to reassure him, as much as he wanted to. He wasn't good for the kid, he knew. He wasn't good for kids…wasn't mentor material. But he could fake it for a couple of hours once a month and an internship would help Peter get into MIT, so he figured he owed the kid that much at least.

And it wasn't that he didn't like Peter! He was a good kid! But Tony didn't trust himself to care about the kid…didn't trust himself not to screw the kid up. Peter was going to be great one day, Tony could already tell. A great man and a great superhero. And Tony wasn't going to get in the way of that. So he made small talk with the kid and offered support and backup if he needed it.

His phone buzzed and Tony skimmed the message from Happy.

'Running late. Sorry boss. A/Cs out in the car.'

"Friday, remind me to take a look at the car."

It was warm in the lab too, not that he thought about it, but he was too wrapped up in his work to really care. He usually kept it set to somewhere around 75, unless he was doing something strenuous, in which case Friday knew to turn it down. He didn't venture outside all that often these days, so it wasn't something he gave a lot of thought to.

Time seemed to fly as he lost himself in the plans he was working on for his new suit. Nanotech. Cutting edge. No…bleeding edge. So before he knew it, the door to his lab slid open and Peter Parker appeared, face flushed, hair messed up, and that's when he sort of remembered the A/C in the car.

"Hey, kid. Go ahead and get started. I'll be over in a sec," he muttered, gesturing to Peter's workstation on the other side of the room. The kid must have nodded or something…he was so close to a breakthrough. He imagined a suit forming around him…seamless and fast. Nanites that could form different weapons or a shield or anything else he needed. Getting the repulsers to work would be a bit trickier but he was working through it.

"Mr. Stark?"

The kid's voice broke him out of his thoughts and he jumped, turning to face the kid who was leaning one hand on the desk, face still flushed. How long had he been working? A quick glance at the clock told him the kid had been there for about fifteen minutes, but he didn't seem to have started on anything. "Yeah?" He still looked like he was hot, but he wasn't sweating or anything…his cheeks were just flushed.

"Can I have a glass of water, please?"

Alarm bells went off in Tony's head, clearing it of all thoughts of his new armor and the fact that if he wasn't careful, and if he spent too much time with this kid, he could still turn into his own father. He'd felt it at the ferry…when he'd watched the kid try to hold the pieces together. He'd felt it when he'd seen just how many people could have died. He'd felt that anger rising up in him that his father must have felt every time he'd screwed up.

But all he could think about now was the kid and how he leaned against the desk, face flushed. Peter knew where the water was. He knew about the kitchen off the side of the lab. Tony had told him about it the first day. He never asked for anything…didn't even want to accept the snacks that Tony made sure to have on hand for when he came over.

All of this flew through his mind so far he could hardly process any of it. "Yeah…of course," he told him, jumping up and heading to the kitchen to grab it at a near run. When he returned with a glass of ice water, the kid hadn't moved, and he pressed the glass into his hand as Peter took deep, deliberate breaths. He took slow sips of the water, eyes hazy and struggling to focus.

"Kid? You okay?"

"Yeah…I'm…" Peter nodded, taking another sip. "Is it okay if I sit for a second?" he murmured, swaying a little, and Tony grabbed a chair and pulled it up behind him just in time for the kid's legs to buckle, and he dropped into it, nearly dropping the glass of water.

"Kid? Talk to me! Hey…what's going on?" Tony barked, fear making his voice harsher than he'd meant it to be, and he took a deep breath of his own. "What's wrong?" He gripped the boy's shoulder, then froze. Heat radiated from his skin even under his shirt. "Are you sick?"

"Wasn't…wasn't sick…" Peter murmured, shaking his head and practically panting for air. "It's just…it's hot. My head…" Peter closed his eyes, bringing his free hand up to his forehead and grimacing.

"Okay…okay…Friday? Help me out here?" He took the half-drunk glass of water and put it on the desk, then took the kid's wrist, jaw tightening when he felt his racing pulse.

"I believe his temperature is too high and would recommend cooling him off."

"My head hurts," Peter told him softly, and Tony nodded, his own heart racing along with the kid's. Could super-powered kids get sick? Was that even possible? Did he have the flu or something? He said he hadn't been sick…so what was going on?

"Right. Turn the air on…take it down to 60 in here…do it slow. Kid?"

His eyes fluttered open and he seemed to have difficulty keeping them from closing again.

"Drink some more water, okay?" He held the glass up to the boy's mouth and he took a drink, but shook his head when Tony tried to get him to take another, weakly pushing the glass away.

"Don't…feel good," he murmured, eyes closing.

"What do you mean? Do you feel sick? Like you're going to throw up? Friday, is there anyone in the medbay?"

"I can inform Doctor Tai that you need assistance."

"Yeah…do that. Kid…"

Peter blinked at him a few times, seeming confused, then his eyes rolled back in his head and he dropped sideways while Tony stood frozen in horror, head slamming into the floor as he convulsed.

"Fuck! Peter! Shit…Friday!"

"Doctor Tai is on his way."

Blood pooled under the boy's head and Tony felt like he might throw up. His head was bleeding! He'd hit his head and he was bleeding and seizing and tears filled Tony's eyes as he fought to stay calm. He had to be calm!

"Peter…Pete…" he whispered, gripping the boy's arm and not knowing if that's what he was supposed to do.

"I would recommend placing something soft under his head," Friday advised and he nodded, jumping up and grabbing a cushion from the couch in the corner, carefully slipping it under Peter's head.

"Okay…okay…I don't know if you can hear me kid, but you're okay. You're okay. I've got you. We're going to…we're going to help. It's okay. I'm…" The word 'sorry' caught in his throat because it didn't feel like enough! Why hadn't he noticed that something was wrong? Why hadn't he looked up from his goddamn work for three seconds to pay attention to the kid that looked at him like a hopeful puppy half the time? Why couldn't he give this kid a few hours of his time without feeling like a screwup?

Slowly, the kid's movements stopped, leaving him still, eyes half-open and staring at nothing, mouth open as he panted for air.

"Peter? Hey…Pete?" Tony asked, taking the kid's hot, dry hand. "Buddy, can you hear me?"

The boy shuddered on the floor, blinking but not seeming to take his words in.

"Please…come on, Pete, please," he whispered, blinking hard. "Talk to me."

"Hm?" he asked, and Tony heard the elevator ding, letting him know that a doctor was coming. His eyes slowly moved to Tony's, one of his pupils blown wide, letting him know that he most likely had a concussion. Because Tony hadn't caught him. Because he'd been frozen in place.

"You're okay." Tony made his voice calm as he rubbed his thumb over the back of the kid's knuckles. "You're alright. I've got a doctor coming. A real doctor. My PhD is mostly for show, bud, sorry." His voice broke but he made himself keep going…made himself give the best comforting smile he could manage. "We'll get you cooled off…figure out what's going on. You can stay here tonight. In the medbay. Or…you've still got that room next to Vision's. It'll be okay."

The doctor burst into the room with a gurney that he wheeled right up to them, not sparing Tony a glance as he knelt next to Peter on his other side, pants staining with Peter's blood. "Friday sent me everything. We need to get him on cold fluids. We might have to put him in a cold bath. I've got cold packs ready. We have to cool him off. He has a mutation?"

Tony nodded, verbalizing his answer when the doctor seemed focused only on his fingers pressed to Peter's throat, then his wrist.

"It looks like heat stroke." Still not paying Tony any mind, he lifted the kid onto the gurney and strapped him in with practiced ease, forcing Tony to half jog to keep up as he raced towards the door, then the elevator.

"He just came from school. Happy drove him here." He remembered them. "The car didn't have A/C but…they had to have rolled down the windows!"

"I can't know for sure until I take a blood sample, but I'm thinking spider mutation…difficulty thermoregulating. It's the hottest summer on record in fifty years. Name?"

It took Tony a second to process the question. "Peter Parker. Fifteen."

"Okay." The doors opened onto the medbay and Dr. Tai burst into action once more, wheeling Peter over to a bed, then transferring him into it while Tony stood uselessly off to the side. He wanted to help but also didn't want to be in the way.

"There are cold packs. There. Pulse points."

Tony nodded, pulling the cooler over and struggling to open it with shaking hands as the doctor cut the kid's shirt down the middle. Making a mental note to replace that, he put one of the cold packs on Peter's chest, then rested one on each wrist, then his ankles as the doctor pulled the kid's shoes off. The last one went on his forehead, then one on his stomach for good measure.

The doctor put in an IV in, messing with what must have been cold fluids, and clipped an oximeter to his finger.

"Can I…" Tony started, hesitant, and the doctor glanced at him, hesitating.

"I'm going to see how bad the head wound is. You can sit with him if you'd like."

Tony nodded, keeping an eye on the monitor that had his stats on it as he took a seat on Peter's other side, suddenly self-conscious. The doctor hadn't asked what exactly a teenager had been doing in the lab with Tony…other people knew about his internship but Tony explained, just in case.

"He's my intern. Peter. He…he comes over once a month to work in the lab. And…he…I should have…it should be more. It should. He loves it. But I…"

The doctor did him the kindness of not asking questions. Instead, he concentrated on Peter's head and the white gauze he was pressing to the wound there. "He had accelerated healing?"

"Yeah. I think so."

"Good. The bleeding already stopped. He shouldn't need stitches." He moved over to the table and grabbed a tablet, tapping on it a few times. "His temp is coming down. I'm going to keep pushing the fluids. The cold packs are helping. I'd like to draw some blood."

Tony nodded. Every doctor that worked for him had signed a plethora of NDAs, and every bit of research they did was monitored by Friday. Every one of them underwent rigorous background checks. So he waved a hand to give permission and the doctor took two vials of Peter's blood.

Alone in the room with Peter for the first time, Tony watched the monitor…watched the boy's temperature fall steadily until it was normal once more. He began removing the cold packs when Peter started to shiver, dropping them back into the cooler, careful not to upset the bag of cold fluids. Once that was done, he grabbed the thin blanket folded at the edge of the bed and draped it over him, folding it down so he wouldn't get too hot again.

Back in his chair, he only had to wait for a few minutes for Peter to stir, head turning to the side before his eyes started to move under his lids. He made a soft, questioning 'hm' and Tony hesitated before resting a hand on his arm.

"Pete? You with me?"

"Huh?" he asked, wrinkling his whole face for a second before opening his eyes, then staring at Tony for a long moment as though he had no idea what the man could possibly be doing there. "Mr. Stark?" His eyes went back to the ceiling for a second, then his arm, which had the tube running up to the bag of fluids, and then to his other arm, where Tony's hand rested. And, not seeming to come to any conclusion based on the data available, Peter turned back to him. "Are you okay?"

Tony had to fight an incredulous laugh, instead squeezing Peter's arm. "I'm fine, kid. You're the one that decided to take a nap on me." Despite his words, his own voice sounded so surprisingly gentle to his own ears, and Peter cocked his head, not seeming to understand.

"Huh?"

"You're in the medbay," Tony told him. "At the Compound. The doctor thinks you had heatstroke. You had a seizure. Hit your head pretty hard." Tony actively tried not to think about the blood on the floor of his lab. "How are you feeling?"

"I don't remember…" he told him instead, trying to sit up. Tony found himself scooting forward, a hand on his arm to support him, and he pushed a button on the bed, sitting it up a little.

"Easy, Pete. Just rest for now, okay?"

Peter stared at him, bewildered.

"How do you feel?"

"I'm…I'm okay. My head hurts…um…you…I'm sorry, Mr. Stark. I didn't know…um…you can go. I know you're busy. I'm sorry."

Tony had to close his eyes, turning his face away and wishing he had his sunglasses. The kid was sorry. For having heatstroke. Breaking the cycle his ass. "You don't have to be sorry, Pete. I'm glad you're okay. One of my doctors drew some blood…they're all vetted by me. And Pep. And Happy. And probably some other people too. Anyway, his theory is that your spider-ness makes it hard for you to thermoregulate. Thus, heatstroke."

Peter nodded slowly, thoughtful. "Yeah…that…that makes sense," he murmured, his genius brain obviously trying to start working again after getting slammed into the floor not an hour ago. "I was really cold all winter, and I started to get sleepy if I didn't use the heater in my suit. I wore it in my apartment sometimes."

Tony didn't bother asking Peter why he hadn't mentioned that. He already knew why. "We'll be more careful from now on. I'm getting the A/C fixed in the car. And I'll look into installing some kind of cooling mechanism in your suit…shouldn't be too hard. How are you feeling now, temperature-wise?"

"I think I'm okay."

"Good." Tony nodded, unable to help from smiling in his relief.

"I can go home…"

"No way, Pete. You're on bedrest, for my sake if not yours."

"But…aren't you busy?"

"Nope," he told him, a blatant lie, but he didn't care. This was his priority for now. "You scared the hell out of me, kid. As punishment, you get to put up with me hovering for the rest of the night." He wiped a hand over his eyes, then caught sight of Peter's bewildered face. "How about we head upstairs when the doctor clears you? I'll show you your room."

"My room?"

"Yep. Remember? By Vision?"

Peter just stared at him and Tony remembered at the last second that he'd let Peter think that had been a test. It seemed like he had plenty of ground to cover when it came to making things up to this kid, but, he decided right then, he was going to do it. He couldn't stand the thought of this happening again and Peter not calling him for help. What if he'd been alone in his apartment? What if he'd started to feel bad but hadn't reached out to anyone? What if he'd hit his head on a table or something? What if he'd…

What if he'd gone on patrols and had a seizure while climbing the Empire State Building or something equally dumb? What if he'd fallen off a building? What if he'd died alone on his bedroom floor?

Tony's whole body rebelled at the thought, his heart leaping into his throat. No. No way in hell. Not this kid. Not this brave, brilliant, good kid. Fuck no. He'd said he was going to break the cycle and he was going to break the goddamn cycle. He wouldn't do a perfect job, and he was still scared to death of screwing the kid up or, even worse, hurting him, but that was a risk he was just going to have to take. Hell, maybe he'd read a parenting book or something.

The doctor chose that moment to enter, smiling at Peter and holding out a hand. "Peter? I'm Dr. Tai. How are you feeling?"

"I'm…I'm okay," Peter told him, glancing uncertainty at Tony.

"Any nausea, dizziness, headache?"

"My head kind of hurts."

"That makes sense. You hit it pretty hard. Do pain relievers typically work on you?"

To Tony's surprise, Peter shook his head. "Not anymore."

"Okay. I took a sample of your blood to try and figure out what side effects your mutation is causing, and I believe I'll be able to modify some medications that should help you with pain. For the moment, go ahead and rest for the remainder of the day. You can use a cold compress to help with headache symptoms, and lay down in a dark, quiet room. Avoid screens as much as possible for the next 24 hours. No reading, no watching movies…"

"No fun," Tony finished with a wry smile, shrugging when the kid turned to him, still seeming confused for some reason. He couldn't help it. Something about not worrying if the kid in his care was going to die had put him in a better mood. "Sorry, kiddo. Think I can take him upstairs, Doc?"

"That should be fine. If any of his symptoms return, especially if his temperature starts to rise again, or if he feels nauseous, bring him back."

Tony saluted. "You got it."

As they headed upstairs, unbeknownst to Peter, Tony ordered six pizzas, figuring that ought to cover the two of them and Pepper later, then had Friday ask one of his assistants to pick them up, instructing them to take whichever pizza they wanted and bring the rest to his apartment. The nearest pizza place was about thirty minutes away, so he pointed at the couch once they reached his living room, which he realized was a room Peter had never been in. Telling himself he would give the kid a tour when he was feeling better, he headed for his bedroom and grabbed the first t-shirt he spotted in his closet, then returned to the living room and tossed it to Peter. "Sorry about your shirt. I'll get you a new one."

"That's okay, Mr. Stark. You don't have to."

"You thirsty?" he asked once Peter had pulled the shirt on and Peter started to stand, but Tony put a hand on his shoulder and gave him a gentle push back onto the couch, grinning when Peter gave him a borderline offended look. "Stay," he ordered, voice as gentle as he'd ever heard it.

In the kitchen, he poured the kid some ice water, then grabbed a clean hand towel, wrapping it around an icepack and taking a seat next to a seemingly permanently confused Peter, handing him the glass of water. Seeming torn, Peter drank half of the water, then placed the cup carefully on a coaster on the coffee table.

"Lean back," he instructed, grabbing three couch cushions and placing them behind his back. Peter did, resting his head on the pillows but keeping his eyes on Tony. "Fri, turn on Star Wars. The first one."

"The doctor said I wasn't supposed to look at screens…" Peter murmured, eyes darting to the TV coming to life.

"You aren't going to watch it." Tony carefully laid the towel wrapped around the icepack on his forehead, brushing his hair out of the way, then patted him on the shoulder. "You're going to listen to it. God knows you've seen this movie before."

Peter gave him a hesitant smile, shoulders relaxing a little, and Tony counted it as a victory.

"Then, after you eat, I'll give you the tour, show you your room, and if you're feeling up to it, we can get back to science in the morning. How does that sound?"

"It…it sounds good," Peter murmured, still hesitant. "But…"

"But once a month just isn't working out," Tony finished for him, kicking his feet up on the table, nodding to himself. "I agree." Beside him, the boy stiffened, so Tony hurried to go on, not wanting to freak the kid out. "Are you busy next week?"

"Next week? Um…no?"

"Good. Let's try every Friday. What do you think?"

"Every Friday?"

"Is that too much?"

"No…I…" Peter swallowed. "I just…I know you're busy and…"

"Hey…let, uh…let me talk for a second?"

Peter pressed his lips together and Tony hated that the kid automatically followed orders like he was afraid. That was another thing he'd have to fix.

"Listen…I…" He sighed, wiping a hand over his face. "I haven't been doing a very good job at this whole mentorship thing. My dad was…shitty. And…I've never done anything like this before. Hell, I can't remember the last time I've been responsible for a potted plant, much less a teenager. But…I'm going to try and…and do better, okay? I…I want to make this thing…this internship thing we're doing…I want to do it for real. I know I've let you down, Pete."

He opened his mouth, obviously about to argue, but Tony lifted a hand, then realized that Peter couldn't see him. "Almost done," he told Peter, resting a hand on his shoulder and squeezing gently. ''I've been doing a shitty job, but I'm going to fix it. That's the gist."

Peter still looked kind of confused, but he knew that just saying the words wasn't going to do anything. He was going to have to prove it. And he was planning to do just that.

"You…you didn't…" Peter shook his head, sounding young and worried. "You didn't let me down," he told him softly, and Tony smiled down at the boy who suddenly looked so young. Never meet your heroes, Tony thought with a sad smile.

Tony wanted to argue. He wanted to insist. Instead, he patted Peter on the shoulder. "Good. I'm glad. I'm still going to do better, okay?"

Hesitantly, Peter nodded. "Okay," he all but whispered.

"Alright. Let's watch the movie and eat pizza and then we'll do the tour." And then, Tony thought, I'm going to fix this.