Lyla fluttered about, watching as Miguel typed away, scanning for the next anomaly. He was back to business.

"All good boss?"

"Mmhm," he barely responded.

"Are you sure?"

"You're asking me this, why?" he messaged Gwen to help him with the current anomaly.

The sprite fluttered by, "Well, you've been fanning yourself a lot."

2099 nodded, still actively fanning himself with a folder, "Seems like the heat is up rather high today."

She crossed her arms, "You're actually sitting and leaning. Rare of you to do that."

"Not that rare. I'm just a bit tired, I guess," he covered a cough.

"Or you're a bit sick."

"I don't get sick, Lyla. Don't be ridiculous."

"Not even when in a household full of sickness. Right," she floated over, "Should I get mommy?"

Miguel huffed, setting the folder down, "No. Why would I even get sick now? Daddy and Gunner have been better for weeks. Plus we're going to the aquarium in a couple weeks. I don't have time to be sick."

"I bet everyone wishes they were like you and could schedule when to be sick."

"I am not sick," he dismissed, falling into his chair, "It's just hot in here, and I'm tired. Really tired."

"Uh huh. Right," she checked his stats.

X

Hobie made his way up to Mig's office, "Yo! I know you're not doing anything important here," He wanted to harass Miguel into going to the quiet room to play.

Upon seeing him at his desk he already could register something wasn't quite right with the dear leader.

"Are you ok?" he stepped over, "You don't look too well."

"That's what I told him!"

"[Just tired]," he muttered, half asleep.

"Don't speak the language of the Spaniards," punk placed his hand against Miguel's forehead, "Bruv, you're burning up."

"I think the heat is broken," Mig complained.

"Or you're sick as h3ll. Hey Tatl, is mama here?" he wiped his hand on his pants.

"Yes and no, she's in a fight right now. I sent her a message like, literally a minute ago. But, y'know, fighting."

"Imma go get Peter," he hurried off, leaving Miguel to groan in dismay.

X

"Peter," punk pulled at the dad's robe, "Peter, peter."

The OG covered his phone, "Gimme one minute, Hobie, I'm on the phone ok?"

"But Peter," he shook him by the waist again.

"No, that's my nephew," he continued talking, holding a finger up.

The punk whined, stamping his feet.

"Do you need a change?"

"No, but-"

"Then you need to put on your listening ears and wait, I am on the phone," he whispered sternly.

Punk stamped his feet, earning a glare as the man went back to the phone. Punk hurried around to look Peter in the eyes, causing the older man to turn again.

"Miggy is sick! Miggy is really sick!"

That caught Peter's attention, "What?"

"He's in his office and he's hot and sweating and sick!"

"Hey, can I call you right back please?" he spoke into the phone, "Yea, I know the wait time will be like 2 hours. I have to go," he hung up, "Ok, what's wrong with Miguel?"

"Oh, Miguel has a current temperature of 100 degrees," Lyla pointed.

"You know that's something you should lead with Lyla!" Peter hurried to the office.

Miguel was still mostly asleep in his chair. Peter hurried over, putting his hand against Miguel's red forehead.

"You are super hot," he took his phone out to call Jess.

"Thank you, I know," He shrugged with a weak smile.

"Oh he's making jokes, this is worse than it looks," he used his watch to contact Jess.

X

Jess flinched, seeing a hologram of Peter,"Hey, what's up?"

"Jess, Miguel is sick. Did you get a message about it?"

"...What?" she gripped Viper's neck, "Hold on," she pulled her phone out to check. She had a new message from Lyla stating that Miguel's fever was now 101, "Sh×t! Get him to my house, I'll meet you there."

"On it now," Peter ended the call.

Jess let her go, "Hey, I gotta go."

"Everything ok?" Viper rasped, rubbing her throat.

"My baby is sick, I gotta get home," she shook her head, hurrying to her bike, "Sorry, can we reschedule."

"Girl, get home and take care of him!" she scolded, "We can continue this later."

"Let's aim for a week or two."

"Go two, just in case."

"Thanks hun, tell your husband I said hi," Jess revved her bike and drove off.

"She's so lovely, pity we have to be enemies." the villainess tsked, gathering her things.

X

"Oh jeez," Jess put her hand against Miguel's face, "Baby, you're burning up. Get him to the bathtub."

Pete essentially carried Miguel there, getting soaked in sweat, "He is so moist…." he cringed, ready for a shower himself.

"I'm sleepy, wanna go to bed," Mig complained, attempting to pull away.

"You can sleep after we get your temperature down," Jess set the mop and pail outside the bathroom.

As soon as he was lowered into the water he began shrieking and splashing about, "Cold! It's cold!"

"I know, I know, sorry pumpkin," Jess poured the water over his neck as he kicked, screamed and tried to escape.

"It's ok, pal," Peter struggled, holding him down, "Hey, do you want your bath bear?" he waved the bath toy at him in an attempt to distract him.

Miguel looked at one of his favorite floaty toys, taking it from Peter and throwing it on the floor.

"Now that's not nice," Spider-man held him in place.

"I want to get out! Too cold!" Mig whimpered, turning away as Jess wiped his face with a cold, wet towel, "No!"

"I know it's cold, honey, I know. We have to get your temperature down," she wiped his face, despite being pushed, "Lyla, tell me when we get it down to 98"

"You got it," she monitored closely.

After several long minutes of fighting and scratching they managed to get him to a much more manageable temperature. Pete's favorite robe was tattered, but every war has a casualty.

"He hates me," Parker sobbed, mopping the bathroom, "I'm a terrible uncle. Step dad? Brother?"

"Whatever form of caregiver you want to call yourself," Jess dried herself off, "He doesn't hate you, he's sick and cranky," she had the fun task of drying him off and getting him in fresh clothes. At least he went to bed easily.

"He said he hates me," Pete sobbed.

"He also asked about the unicorn on the ceiling. Did you see one?" she rolled her eyes, "He doesn't hate you, he's sick and upsetty spaghetti."

"I can bet, last time he was sick was like…what? When he got a cold almost two years ago?"

"He probably got Virgil's flu, since he insisted on still being as close to him as humanly possible while he was sick," she shook her head, "I just had him take Gunner to his parents' house for a few days. I can't do another sick toddler."

"Sick babies are the best. They're incredibly clingy, cranky and impossible. Only tolerable when asleep," he dried the mop, running it over the floor again.

"I'll get you something to change into," Jess sighed, going to pull the sick kits out.