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Peter worked on his homework in the quiet of the penthouse. His parents had left for some gala somewhere and he had insisted he would be fine on his own. He was Spider-Man and he was practicalty grown at 14 years old. But now his throat wouldn’t stop hurting everytime he swallowed and it was getting hard to focus over the headache he had going on.
He closed his textbook and went to his room to change into pajamas. He put on his dad’s MIT sweater he had stolen out of his closet months ago and never returned and immediately felt safer. He just wished they’d come home so he could talk to them about how he was feeling. Maybe he’d just text and see if they were even close to being done.
~
Stephen Strange smiled standing next to his husband who was talking with someone about something important he was sure. Unfortunately, it had bored him too much and he stopped paying attention. That type of science wasn’t his area. He felt his phone vibrate in his pocket. He squeezed Tony’s hand to excuse himself and moved out of the loud room.
Pete, “Are you guys going to be there long tonight?”
Stephen frowned. Peter normally begged to be trusted to stay in the penthouse alone. He called him.
“Dad?” Peter answered.
“What’s wrong? Stephen asked. He could already hear it in Peter’s raspy voice.
“My throat hurts and I have a headache and probably a fever. Oh and my ears hurt.” Peter was laying in bed now, “But I’ll be fine. You guys don’t need to come home.”
“Hmm.” Stephen glanced back in the room not wanting to pull Tony out if he didn’t need to, “Did you try your cold meds?”
“I took a couple.” Peter shivered even under the blankets, “Waiting for them to start working.”
“I can come home. Dad will be fine without me.” Stephen was trying to get an idea of how bad Peter felt. He knew Peter still wanted his biological dad more often than not but they had come a long way since he had married Tony a couple years ago.
The line was quiet except some sniffles, “I just feel like I’m dying.”
“I’m coming home.” Stephen was already texted Happy and Tony about the situation.
~
Stephen knocked on Peter’s door when he got home. There was no answer so he gently pushed the door open. The teenager was asleep. The medication must have kicked in making him tired. He put his hand against his forehead. He wasn’t too warm.
Peter blinked his eyes open, “Dad? You came home.”
“Told you I would, silly.’ Stephen brushed the sweater curls out of Peter’s eyes, “Feeling better now?”
Peter pulled the blanket up over his shoulders, “I’m freezing.”
“You’re running a fever.”
“How do you know I’m not dying?” Peter looked at his dad and let all of his fear show through. He supposed it was okay if he still needed his parents.
“I’m a medical doctor and this is a cold.” Stephen reassured.
Peter scooched over, “Will you lay be me? Just to make sure I’m okay?”
“Let me get out of this suit. You know how much I hate these things. I’ll come right back.” Stephen promised.
“Okay. Love you.”
He loves me. I’m not second best to Tony. I’m his dad.
~
Tony got home hours later and found both his husband and son snoozing. Peter’s projector he had insisted on buying for his room was still playing Starwars on the wall. He turned it off. He gently shook his husband, “Babe. He’s asleep.”
Stephen snuck out from Peter’s room walking with Tony to their room, “How did the rest of the gala go?”
“Fine. The usual. How’s our kid?” Tony started undoing his tie.
“It’s a cold.”
“Are we sure? It could be step or a sinus infection or the flu.”
“You do realize I’m an actual doctor, right? It’s a cold. Fluids, and rest.” Stephen knew his husband worried but he was completely confident Peter would be back on his feet in a matter of days.
“I always think back to before the bite when it would go from bad to worse quick.” Tony changed into his pajamas, “I never want to hear my kid gasp for air ever again.”
“I can go wake him up to listen to his lungs again if you want but I think we shold let him sleep.” Stephen pulled the comforter down while Tony tossed the extra pillows off the bed.
“No. I trust you.” Tony got into bed, “Being a parent just never gets less overwhelming.”
~
Peter woke up the next morning coughing. He reached for a tissue from the box his dad must have left on his nightstand and blew his nose, “What time is Fri?”
“5:08AM.” Friday supplied.
“Dads are asleep?” Peter threw the tissue across the room to his trash can.
“They are. Would you like me to wake them?”
“No. I don’t need.” Peter felt his eyes water. He drew his knees up to his chest to hug himself, “Right? They can’t fix this.”
“That is correct; however, my sources do tell me that it is normal for a child to seek out a parent for comfort when sick.” Friday offered.
“Will you get Babbo?” Peter asked. He found it easier to call Tony dad in Italian when talking to Friday so she knew which dad he needed.
“Of course.”
It wasn’t long before Tony pushed the door open, “Bambino?”
“Dad?” Peter started to cry, “Everything hurts.”
Tony sat down next to his kid and hugged him, “How about some more cold medicine? I bet it’s worn off by now.”
“We should ask dad because he’s a doctor and he’ll know if I’m really dying and if I’m dying then I need to go to the Medbay.”
“I’m also a doctor.” Tony reminded his son.
“He’s a medical doctor.” Peter rolled his eyes.
“Rude. Fine. Fri, be a dear and get Stephen in here. He can bring his stethoscope this time.” Tony told him.
Stephen came in a couple minutes later with more cold medicine, water and his stethoscope. He sat on the other side of Peter, “Sit forward. I’m going to listen to your lungs.”
Once Stephen was again confident Peter wasn’t dying he had him take the cold medicine, “Lay back down. Your body needs rest. I’m going to leave the water on your nightstand. Try and drink some of it if you can.”
Peter grabbed his hand before he could leave, “Stay. Babbo too.”
Tony settled in on one side and Stephen on the other, “Go to sleep Cucciolo. We’re not going anywhere.”