I know this wouldn’t happen since your fic is a no power au, but you saying you love sick fic peter with protective iron dad in your other ask made me wonder, what WOULD Mob boss Tony’s reaction to the bite be? Especially if Peter got REALLY sick like some fics have him be. (Probably many, MANY, unalived oscorp employees, that’s for sure)
You, my friend, got me thinking. So despite me being busy whole day, I still went and wrote something short for this tumblr exclusive (I always wanted to say that) AU of an AU.
Or "what if" of The Ties That Bind Us/Grow As We Go
It's way past one in the morning, so please excuse any mistakes and enjoy these 850 words.
Tony was worried sick. But his “worried sick” had nothing on Peter’s “actually sick”. He shouldn’t have allowed Peter to go on that god-forsaken field trip to Oscorp.
“What do you mean you can’t figure out what’s wrong with him?! Why the hell am I even paying you for then?” he’d yelled at Strange and Cho from the top of his lungs.
His kid was in pain. That much was obvious.
It had all started after the dinner. Peter hadn’t eaten all that much in the first place – which, okay, combined with how pale the boy looked, Tony had assumed Peter got a cold or flu or something – but after he’d excused himself and said he was going to bed, he didn’t make it five steps before he collapsed.
They called in Strange, Cho as well, but even with their combined forces they couldn’t figure out what was wrong with Peter. The only lead they had was a red spot on Peter’s hand and the abnormal bloodwork results.
It wasn’t until the team had looked through Peter’s camera for clues that they discovered another lead. Radioactive spiders display.
A quick hack to Oscorp’s security feed had shown Peter slapping something from his hand before he went to catch up with the group.
That’s when Bruce got called in.
Besides quick trips to end the lives of various scientists – already bloodied scientists that had received treatment from the rest of the team – who had something to do with the project and even the owner himself, Tony faithfully remained at his barely-lucid son’s side.
The too-high fever, the labored breathing, the seizures – it made Tony feel like ripping his own hair out. If given the chance, he would’ve gladly taken Peter’s place if it would take the pain away from the teen. Unfortunately, that wasn’t an option, so all what was left for him to do was to gently wipe the sweat from Peter’s forehead with cool cloth.
Damn it, he just got his son into his life, he couldn’t lose him!
Peter sighed at the coolness, barely peeled his eyelids open before they slid shut once again. His skin was so hot that if given enough time, you could fry an egg on him.
Tony shook his head, dunked the cloth into the water, squeezed most of it out before resuming the now-too-familiar motions.
Tony was reluctantly dragged into shower when Peter somehow stabilized the next day.
Peter woke up… feeling better than expected if he was being honest. He had some vague recollection of intense pain, but there was no trace of it. He also woke up in company of passed out and very tired-looking Pepper in the armchair next to his bed.
So, as quietly as he could, Peter unhooked himself from the IV, got from under the light blanket and headed to the door.
“What the…?” he muttered when his hand remained on the handle as if it was glued there. He tugged and tugged, but the hand didn’t budge. It was only then that he noticed the blanket stuck to his other hand.
The sound of his struggling must’ve woken Pepper up and she had to alert others because the next thing Peter knew, he was surrounded by his family.
“What are you doing out of bed?” Tony – who looked like he just woke up – asked worriedly.
“Dad, someone- someone glued me to the door! I can’t get my hand free- whoa!”
Several people had to jump out of the way of the door that got ripped out of its hinges. Even if Peter tugged hard, there was no possibility that he’d tugged that hard. He opened his hand, but the handle was still stuck to his palm. Everybody looked as surprised as him.
“Isn’t that… heavy?” Clint asked, breaking the silence.
“It’s… not…” Peter replied as he waved the door around. “I know it’s supposed to be, but… wait, is this a dream?”
“Kiddo, if this is a dream, then we’re all somehow interconnected,” Tony said. “And I know for sure that no glue is strong enough to do… that. Okay, uh, maybe try to relax? It might make the door unstick?”
True to his words and several shakes later, the door fell on the ground with a loud bang.
“Don’t!” Peter cried out as he backed away. “Please, don’t come any closer. I don’t know what’s happening, but I don’t want to accidentally hurt you.” They all stared with mouths hanging open. Peter’s jaw fell too once he realized what position he was in. He was pressing himself against the wall.
But a foot off the ground.
He began to hyperventilate.
“Pete,” Tony said gently as he approached, “don’t worry. I know for a fact that you would never hurt us. Whatever this is, we’ll figure it out.” Tony reached his hand. “Together.”
Peter, managing to calm down, tentatively reached his own hand towards his dad. Upon seeing that nothing bad happened, he wrapped himself around Tony’s front like a koala, burying his face in Tony’s neck.
