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marvelous-writer · 5 years

Note

Would you do a fic where Happy takes care of a sick Peter?

Absolutely!! I hope you like this!

Warnings for emeto and a lot of reading.

Link to read on Ao3

It was around eleven fifteen in the evening when Peter decided to call it a night from patrolling. He was tired and hungry, so he decided to stop off at a hotdog vendor along the way back to Happy’s apartment.

Yes, that’s right. Happy’s apartment.

With May being away on a girls trip with a few of her friends from work for a week, Happy had volunteered to let Peter stay with him while she was away. Of course, May had to make it weird by saying it would be some good ‘guy time’ for them. She’s been having him spend more time with Happy lately, whether it be leaving them alone for a few minutes whenever he picked her up for a date, or by her having him over for dinner during the week, ordering take-out those nights.

It’s been a little over three months now since May and Happy were officially dating and Peter still doesn’t know how to feel about it. Of course he’s happy for them… but it’s just so weird. Awkward is a good word to describe it.

He never even suspected anything before he found out about them dating, missing those steamy glances the two would share whenever Happy came to pick Peter up for his visit Upstate to visit the Stark’s at their cabin.

But so far, these past three days haven’t actually been that bad. May set up a curfew of twelve fifteen at night, which he’s been following. Happy’s been okay, a little awkward, but cool about him staying at his place in the guest bedroom. He’s been going back and forth between working on his tablet and making sure everything’s alright at work and checking in with Tony, which also included updates on Peter. Even though Tony already checked his suit logs daily, if not hourly, now that he was retired and had all of this free time on his hands.

“You have a text message from Mr. Hogan, Peter.” Karen chirped in his ear just as he landed on a nearby rooftop, balancing his three hotdogs in his hands.

“Can you read it for me?” He asked as he sat down on the building’s ledge, letting his legs hang off to the side.

“He wants to know if you’re on your way back and for you to remember your curfew.”

Peter let out an annoyed sigh as his mask disengaged from his head. He took a bite out of one of his hotdogs. “Tell him I’ll be home in twenty. Jus’ wrapping somethin’ up.” He said around a mouthful.

“Message sent.”

“Sometimes he’s such a worry-wart. He needs to chill.” Peter commented before taking another bite.

“Would you like me to send that as well?”

Peter’s eyes widened at that and he shook his head. “N-No no! Don’t send that!”

“I was only joking, Peter.”

Peter let out a breath and shook his head. “I think Tony’s newest upgrade to your coding was a bad idea. I can’t tell when you’re being sarcastic anymore, Karen.”

“Tony says it’s good to keep you on your toes.”

Peter smiled and shook his head. “Remind me to thank him for that.”

That meant that he’d probably have Morgan help him out with that one the next time he was up to the cabin.

Peter shoved the rest of his hotdog in his mouth and pulled out his phone from a hidden pocket in his suit, scrolling through instagram and twitter as he ate his other two hotdogs, bunching up the wrappers in his hand when he was finished. He sat there for a few more minutes before he stood up, engaging the nanotech in his suit, his mask covering his head once again.

He jumped down to a fire escape and leaned over, dropping the wrappers in an open dumpster, making sure they got in before he leapt from the railing, shooting a web off to the closest building as he swung away.

It was a little over twenty five minutes when he arrived back at Happy’s apartment, landing on the balcony. From here, Peter could see the man sitting in the living room on the couch through the glass windows, reading a book, dressed in a t-shirt and sweatpants.

Peter was still getting used to seeing Happy without his usual suit and tie attire. He looked… a bit less serious and scary. He seemed more… chill.

But Peter would never let him know that.

“Hey, Happy.” He greeted as he walked through the glass door, disengaging his mask when he was inside.

“Hey, kid. Good patrol?” The man asked as he looked up at him from his book, his reading glasses perched on his nose.

“Yup. I stopped four muggings, helped an elderly woman with her cat that was stuck up in a tree, I walked a lady home, oh and I also helped a guy fix his car that wouldn’t start.”

“Sounds like a busy night.” Happy replied, slipping a bookmark in the page he was on before he closed the book and put it on the end table beside him. “You hungry? There’s some leftover spaghetti in the fridge.”

“Yeah, I’m starving.”

With his metabolism and all of the web slinging he did, he had already burned right through those hotdogs.

“I’ll go heat it up while you take a shower.” Happy offered.

“Thanks.” Peter smiled, walking towards the hallway that led to the bedrooms and bathroom.

He ducked into the guest bedroom where he was staying and grabbed a change of clothes before going to the bathroom to take a shower. Peter tapped on the spider symbol on his suit twice before the nanotech peeled off of him, leaving him in his boxers.

Peter grinned to himself as he placed the symbol on the counter by his clothes, still enthralled at how the Iron Spider suit worked. Sometimes he couldn’t believe that Tony let him keep it with how advanced and expensive the suit is.

When he was finished with his shower, he dried himself off with a towel before changing into his t-shirt and pajama bottoms, relishing in being clean, cooled off and comfy.

Peter went back to his room and threw his dirty clothes in the hamper and put his suit back in it’s charging port before heading down the hallway back out into the living room area. Happy was taking a bowl out of the microwave as he took a seat at the center island. Peter thanked him when he put it down in front of him.

“So, May called while you were out.” Happy told him.

“Oh? What’d she say?” Peter asked, twirling the pasta around his fork.

“Well, she and her friends are at the resort in Miami now.”

“So that hotel mixup is all fixed?”

“Yeah, all thanks to Tony for making a call to the Marriott down there so they could have an upgrade.”

Peter smirked. “Of course he did.”

“Well, you know how Tony is.” Happy smiled slightly.

Peter nodded with a smile, taking a bite of pasta. The kitchen settled into a comfortable silence as Peter ate, the sound of his fork scratching against the porcelain bowl filling the silence.

“So, I was thinking…” Happy was the first to break the silence, causing Peter to look up at him. “How about we do something tomorrow?”

It was painfully obvious that he was a bit awkward asking the question as he stood there, brows furrowed slightly.

Peter nodded, chewing around his last bite. “Sure like what?”

“Well… I was thinking you might want to go to the Intrepid Sea, Air and Space museum? Tony was telling me they have a few new projects they’re showing the public this week.”

Peter was slightly taken aback by that. Happy actually wanted to do something with him that didn’t involve Spider-Man or May. Just Peter. May might have a little something to do with this, though. He wondered if Happy’s been talking to Tony about things to do around the city with him.

“That sounds cool.” Peter smiled.

“Yeah? We could head over there around noontime after breakfast?”

“Sure.” Peter nodded as he slid off his barstool with his empty bowl and fork in hand, walking around the center island to the sink.

“Great.” Happy said with a small, relieved smile.

Peter looked down as he rinsed out his dish and fork before placing them in the dishwasher.

“Tony offered for us to come up to the cabin on Friday. Apparently he bought a new boat and thought you’d want to take the first spin on it.”

“You mean he finally parted ways with that old pontoon boat that he swore he’d never get rid of?” Peter sarcastically asks with a knowing grin.

Happy smiled and crossed his arms over his chest, leaning his side against the counter. “Apparently so. I guess that old thing wouldn’t start a few days ago, even after he tried fixing it.”

“I’m sure Morgan wasn’t thrilled about that.”

“Didn’t sound like she was.”

Peter smiled, his gaze dropping down to the floor. He hasn’t been up to the cabin in a while so it would be good to visit, maybe they would even stay for the weekend. He missed Tony, Pepper and Morgan.

“Well, it’s late.” Happy’s voice took him out of his thoughts of the lake house.

That was his subtle way of telling him to go to bed without actually saying it.

“Yeah.” Peter nodded. “Uh, thanks for dinner.”

“Anytime, kid.” Happy offered him a small smile before he turned around and walked over into the living room, switching off the lamp, the center island lights illuminating the sleek apartment.

Peter bit his lip awkwardly as he walked over to the hallway as Happy moved around turning things off and putting things away for the night.

“Uh, I’ll see you in the morning.” Peter said, stopping at the hallway entrance.

Happy looked over at him and nodded. “Goodnight, kid.”

“Night.” Peter smiled before disappearing around the corner, walking down the hallway to the guest bedroom, closing the door behind himself.

The room was illuminated by moonlight as he walked over to the bed and sat down, picking his phone up as he leaned back against the wooden headboard. He sat there for a few minutes on his phone, hearing Happy go to his own bedroom at some point.

It was around twelve thirty when Peter decided to call it a night when his eyes began to ache from the brightness of his phone. He set his alarm for nine twenty in the morning before plugging his phone into his charger, putting it down on the nightstand.

Peter settled into the queen sized bed, pulling the comforter over himself as he rolled onto his side so he was facing the large glass window, looking out at the half-lit skyscrapers. From here, he could faintly hear the sounds of the streets below but he was too far up to hear everything compared to back at home with all of the traffic in Queens. It was so bad sometimes he had the worst time getting to sleep at night. But here, he could fall asleep pretty easily it seemed.

A few moments passed by before Peter felt his eyelids drooping and he eventually gave in, falling into a deep and peaceful slumber.

Only it didn’t stay so peaceful.

Peter woke up and instantly regretted that he did because he felt horribly nauseated and hot.

He let out a low groan, his brows scrunching together as he kicked the comforter off of himself, the movement triggering a sharp cramp in his stomach, causing him to tightly close his eyes.

Why was this happening?

A horrible wave of nausea overcame him a few seconds later, feeling something hot slowly sliding up his throat. Peter swallowed convulsively to keep it down for a few more seconds as he quickly got out of bed, determined not to throw up on Happy’s freshly polished hardwood floors. Black dots danced in his vision when he stood up, almost sending him back to the bed but he somehow managed to stay vertical on his shaking legs.

His hand fumbled for the doorknob in the darkness until he found it, opening the door and quickly walked out of the guest bedroom, beelining across the hallway to the bathroom, shutting the door behind himself a little too loudly. He found the light switch pretty easily, squinting at the sudden brightness as he made his way over to the toilet, opening the lid.

He knelt down with his arms wrapped around his cramping stomach, tightly closing his eyes as he waited for the inevitable to happen. And he didn’t have to wait long as another wave of nausea hit him at full force, making him gag into the porcelain bowl, his mouth instantly filling with hot saliva.

Peter spat into the bowl, his eyes still tightly closed as he knelt there and waited. Waves of nausea were still rolling over him as his stomach churned and cramped but nothing happened.

It was absolute torture.

Peter let out a small, pained groan as he lowered himself onto his knees, still leaning over the toilet, tears pooling in his eyes. He was breathing in small bursts, not really able to do anything else with the pain he was in. His stomach then convulsed, causing him to dry heave a few times before he retched, puking up his dinner and everything else he ate.

Peter took in a sharp, gasping breath in between heaves and violently coughed, only to vomit again.

He wasn’t sure how long it lasted before it stopped, leaving him gasping for air, slumped over the toilet, weakly holding onto it like a lifeline or else he’d fall to the tiled floor. His ears were ringing and everything was blurry and out of focus. Through the haziness, he was able to make out the rapid footfalls from down the hall before there was a knock at the door.

“Peter? You okay?” A groggy, yet panicked Happy called from the other side.

Peter opened his mouth to reply but before he could answer, he heaved again, vomit spewing out into the bowl.

“I’m coming in, alright?”

When it stopped, Peter was gasping again, tears freely falling down his cheeks. He tightly closed his eyes, coughing harshly into the toilet as he felt a hand settle on his back. Peter tried to let it ground him as he knelt there in front of the toilet, desperately trying to get a grip on himself but all he felt was embarrassment and shame.

Happy shouldn’t have to witness this. A part of Peter wanted the man to go but the childish part of him also wanted him to stay.

However, he wasn’t able to make up his mind before he was heaving into the toilet again, violently sick.

It just didn’t seem to stop. But once it did, Peter groaned, feeling Happy’s hand rubbing slowly up and down his back.

“You’re okay. You’re okay.” Happy was softly saying to him through the fogginess that seemed to take over his brain and ears.

Peter let out a shaky breath through his mouth and closed his eyes, feeling more tears escape from his eyes as he rested his forehead on the rim once again, wrapping his arms weakly around his aching stomach.

He stayed like that for several minutes, trying to focus on Happy’s hand running up and down his back and in small circles in between his shoulder blades.

“You think you’re done for now?” Happy asks after several moments.

Peter licks his chapped, dry lips. “Don’… Don’t know.” He weakly says, finding himself too worn out to speak.

All he wants to do is go back to sleep. Peter pushed himself away from the toilet a little, slowly moving his legs that were tingling with pins and needles, beginning to lower himself to the floor.

“Wait a minute, kid. Let me grab you something.” Happy says, stopping him, holding him up by his shoulder.

The next minute, he feels himself being guided down to the floor, a soft object being placed under his head. Peter let out a breath, relishing in being horizontal, lying on the cold tiled floor.

He blinks open his eyes when he feels a cool hand on his forehead.

“You’re burning up.” He hears Happy say, sounding concerned.

“S’rry.” Peter murmurs, letting his eyelids close again.

He was barely aware of his mouth and face being wiped, erasing any sign of sick from his face. He would have been embarrassed if he wasn’t so exhausted and miserable.

Peter only got a few minutes of rest before he found himself jumping up and puking into the toilet once again, Happy’s hand remaining on his back.

It was an endless, torturous cycle.

By the end of the seventh round, Peter was so done. His stomach and throat were killing him from throwing up so much and so violently and all he wanted was for it all to stop. But it wouldn’t.

Once he finished puking, he started crying, tears rapidly falling from his eyes and down his cheeks. He let out a pained, broken sob, echoing into the toilet as he weakly slumped forward, Happy grabbing onto him, saving Peter from dunking his head in his own puke.

“I’ve got you. You’re alright.” Happy’s words floated around him.

He was distantly aware of being lowered back to the floor, shivering and crying. He probably looked like an absolute mess but he couldn’t bring himself to care. Something soft and warm was draped over him and he curled into it, trying to take in it’s warmth.

Peter felt himself begin to drift off, welcoming the darkness that consumed him.

Peter’s heavy eyes slowly blinked open and he found everything to be a bit blurry. He registered that he was lying on the bathroom floor with his head resting on a folded up towel, another one draped over him. He breathed out through his nose and closed his eyes again, his whole body aching horribly but his stomach, head and throat were the worst of all.

He let out a small groan, stretching his legs out from their curled up position, feeling a hand go on his calf.

“Hey, you awake?” Happy’s voice came from behind.

He heard movement behind him before he opened his eyes, finding Happy in front of him, kneeling on the tiled floor with a glass of something in his hand.

“I’m sure you’re not feeling up to eating anything so I got you some ice chips. We can’t let you get any more dehydrated.”

Peter closed his eyes and shoved his face further against the towel beneath his head. “No… I’ll jus’ puke again.”

“No you won’t. Just try a few, okay?”

Peter stubbornly shook his head, gaining an exasperated sigh from Happy in return.

“Peter, you’re dehydrated. You need something in you or else I’m going to have to take you to the hospital.”

A spike of fear flashed through him at that. Peter opened his eyes and looked up, seeing concern written all over Happy’s face.

“Just try some, please.” Happy repeated, sounding exhausted and a little out of patience.

Peter breathed out a sigh through his nose and began to slowly lift himself up on a shaking arm, Happy helping him sit up the rest of the way, guiding him to rest his back against the vanity. Peter reached a hand out and took the offering glass filled with ice chips and brought it shakily to his mouth, taking a few pieces. He lowered the glass down and rested it on his lap, closing his eyes as he let the chips melt in his dry mouth.

“I want half of that gone.” Happy ordered as he reached forward and draped the towel around Peter’s shoulders.

Peter slowly nodded as he swallowed, bringing the glass up to his lips again for more.

This continued for several minutes until the glass was almost emptied and by that point, Peter’s hand was shaking so much that he almost dropped the cup if it hadn’t been for Happy taking it from him.

“You feel like going back to bed?”

Bed. A soft, warm, comfy bed. That sounded so much better than sitting here on the floor for another couple of hours.

“Y-Yeah.” Peter answered, his teeth chattering together.

When did it get so cold in here?

“Alright. Let me help you up.” Happy offered, standing up with a groan when his knees clicked from the movement.

Peter blinked open his eyes as Happy bent down, snaking his arms around his back and left arm. Getting up was an absolute struggle but with the man’s help, he managed to stand up on wobbly legs.

A wave of vertigo suddenly hit him and he had to lean against Happy’s side to prevent himself from falling back to the floor.

“M’ dizzy…” Peter mumbled, closing his eyes as his chin dropped to his chest.

“I know. Let’s just get you back to bed. Just hang in there a few more seconds.” Happy sympathetically told him, draping one of Peter’s arms over his neck.

Walking was quite the challenge but he managed to stay standing with Happy’s help before the man was helping him into bed. The guest bedroom was semi-bright from the sunrise in the distance, the golden rays of sun shining on the surrounding buildings out the window. Peter distantly wondered what time it was as he let Happy help him lie down in bed. It had been dark when he left the room earlier.

“Six fifteen.” Happy said from above.

Peter opened his eyes and frowned, finding Happy to be looking down at him questioningly.

“You asked me what time it was?” He clarified in a questioning tone, pausing from covering Peter up with the comforter.

Peter blinked, confused. He didn’t remember saying that out loud. “No… I didn’t.”

Happy frowned and reached over, placing the back of his hand on Peter’s forehead. “You’re burning up.” He draped the comforter over Peter, eyes searching the room before he turned around, disappearing from Peter’s line of sight. “Hang on a sec, I’ll be right back.”

Peter closed his eyes and let his head roll to the side, letting out a relieved sigh from the comfort of being in a bed instead of the cold, hard floor. He felt absolutely terrible but at least he was lying down now.

Happy came back a few minutes later, a washcloth in one hand and his phone in the other. He was talking to whoever was on the other end but Peter was too tired to focus on what he was saying. He blinked heavily up at Happy as the man draped the wet, cold facecloth on his forehead, relief washing over him. He hadn’t noticed that the room’s temperature had changed from cold to hot at some point, leaving him sweating and way to warm.

Peter closed his eyes and breathed out a sigh through his nose as a shiver passed through him.

“Yeah. No… yeah. Yeah, Tony. Yes. I’m going to take it now. Hang on a sec.” He heard Happy saying through the fogginess before he felt a hand gently shaking his shoulder. “Hey, Pete. You with me?”

Peter blinked his eyes open, struggling a bit with the drowsiness that had settled over him. The man’s face came into his line of sight, holding something out to him.

“I just need to take your temperature, okay? Think you can help me with that?”

“Yeah…” Peter slowly mumbled.

“Alright, open up.” Happy instructed before sliding the metal tip of the thermometer in his mouth under his tongue.

A few seconds passed by as Happy stayed at his side, still holding the thermometer, while Peter blinked up at the white ceiling, wanting nothing more than to just be able to sleep.

The thermometer beeped several moments later and Happy took it back, his face unreadable as he read over the number.

“What is it?” Peter mumbled.

Happy glanced down at him before looking back to the device. “It’s a little high but we’ll take care of it. For now, how about you try to get some sleep?” He said before standing up, pressing his phone against his ear again as he headed over to the door, starting to talk once more as he stepped out in the hallway.

Peter closed his eyes and tried to focus on Happy’s voice, hearing the man’s murmuring voice coming from the living room.

“… don’t know what happened. He seemed fine last night… yeah. I don’t think so. I don’t know what…”

At some point Peter just gave up on trying to listen because his head felt too heavy and stuffed up, making it hard to think. He began to drift off to the soft murmuring of Happy’s voice, falling into a deep sleep.

Peter blinked his eyes open, finding himself to be lying in his bed back at home. Something felt… off.

He frowned as he pushed himself up into a sitting position and threw his legs over the side of his bed, pushing himself to his feet as he took in everything in his room. A few discarded t-shirts and socks littered on the floor, his textbooks and notebooks spread out on his desk, along with his web shooters.

Nothing looked out of the ordinary.

“May?” Peter called out as he walked out into the hallway through his opened door.

The apartment was eerily silent as he walked down the hallway, stopping at the end beside the tall mirror. Something caught his attention in the corner of his eye, causing him to turn his head, meeting his reflection in the mirror.

His breath caught in his throat at the sight of himself, meeting his horrified eyes.

His t-shirt was ripped up, practically falling off of him but he could care less about that. It was the cause of the rips.

Peter’s eyes widened in terror as he raised his hands… all six of them up, inspecting them over before his eyes snapped back to his reflection, taking in the four arms that he had come out of nowhere.

Peter was panting now, panic bubbling in his chest, getting ready to burst any second. Peter opened his mouth and let out a gut wrenching, horrified scream.

Peter’s eyes snapped open with a scream that tore out of his throat, gasping as he jumped up into a sitting position in bed, throwing his arms out in front of himself. He had two harms, two hands, with ten fingers. Not six hands with thirty fingers.

He shivered when he felt sweat dripping down his back, as well as a drop sliding down his forehead.

Peter breathed out a groan and closed his eyes, falling back on his elbows as it felt like the air was being pushed down on him, threatening to suffocate him.

“Peter?” A voice panically called before he heard rushed footsteps.

Hands were on him and Peter opened his eyes, meeting Happy’s concerned ones.

“You alright? I was in the kitchen and I heard you scream.”

Peter blinked, his brows coming together as he shook his head. “I… I had a dream. My… My arms…”

Happy frowned as he sat on the edge of the bed, his hand resting on Peter’s shoulder. “Your arms are fine.”

“N-No… I had… six of them. I…” Peter veered off, closing his eyes again as his vision began to swim around dizzily, letting himself lie back down.

“Pete, it was just a bad dream. Okay?” Happy softly reassured. “You’re alright. You have two arms. See?” He said as he held onto both of his hands, feeling the man’s warm one’s in his.

Peter swallowed around the growing lump in his throat and nodded, opening his eyes again to look at their hands, weakly squeezing Happy’s hands. Tears were building up in Peter’s eyes and before he knew it, the tears were streaming down his cheeks.

“Hey, hey, what’s-”

“I-It was r-really scary.” Peter hiccuped. “I-I was a-alone and I just saw t-them. W-What if it actually h-happens?”

Happy gently squeezed his hands back, shaking his head. “That’s not going to happen, kid. I promise. It was just a bad dream. You’re sick and your fever is messing with you.”

Peter frowned, sniffing wetly. “F-Fever?”

“Yeah. Last time I checked it was up to one hundred and one point seven. I better check it again.” Happy said as he let go of Peter’s hands, reaching over to grab something from the nightstand beside the bed. “Open up.” He instructed, lowering a thermometer to his lips.

Peter let the man insert the thermometer in his mouth, feeling the cold metal under his tongue. He was far too exhausted and out of it to feel an ounce of embarrassment for all of this. He closed his eyes as they waited a few moments before the device beeped and Happy pulled it out of his mouth.

“One hundred and two point eight…” Happy mumbled, more to himself than to Peter. “We gotta get that down.”

Peter watched as Happy stood up and left the room, staring blankly up at the ceiling with half-lidded eyes for an uncertain amount of time before the man was back at his side.

“Here, this should help.” Happy said as he draped a cold, wet facecloth on Peter’s forehead.

Relief instantly washed over him, sending a few chills down his spine from the coldness compared to how warm he felt. Peter hummed and closed his eyes, grateful for some relief.

“We’ll keep that on for a little bit and see if that helps.” He heard Happy tell him.

Peter just hummed again in response. Happy began to talk again but Peter’s hearing faded in and out, not allowing him to comprehend what he was saying to him. Peter was distantly aware of the washcloth on his forehand anymore as he felt himself sinking back down into the black whole of unconsciousness.

He was fast asleep once again a few moments later.

The next time Peter woke up… wasn’t so pleasant.

He was in a deep sleep when awareness came to him all at once. His eyes flew open just as he felt something hot shoot up his throat and he didn’t have any time to react before he threw up, practically projectile vomiting lying down. Peter shot up as quickly as he could with a gasp, his eyes tightly closed as he threw up in his lap. He could feel something warm sliding down his neck and it only made him gag, sending more vomit onto his lap.

“Shit!” Someone exclaimed from nearby.

It felt like the round of puking lasted forever until it finally stopped, for the time being at least, leaving Peter a gasping, shaking, crying mess.

“Hey, hey, hey. You’re okay.” Someone said at his side.

Peter opened his eyes, snapping them shut once again when he saw the pile of sick on his lap, the blanket covering him completely ruined.

“H-Happy?” Peter’s voice wavered as he spoke.

“Yeah, I’m right here, kid.”

“I…” Peter swallowed thickly. “I don’t f-feel so good.”

“Yeah, I know. I know you don’t, kid.”

Peter’s brows pulled together as his lower lip wobbled. He felt absolutely horrible. His throat was burning, his stomach ached horribly… everything hurt and he felt like he was melting.

“I-I want T-Tony…” Peter said as a small sob escaped from his lips.

He felt Happy’s hand go on his back, rubbing a small circle. They sat like that for a few minutes, tears freely flowing down Peter’s cheeks as he shook, occasionally letting out a small, weak sob.

“Tell you what… how about we get you cleaned up and I’ll call Tony? We’ll see if he can get down here? That sound good?” Happy gently offered.

Peter shakily nodded, sniffing with a wince.

“Alright. Let’s get you up.”

Happy helped him untangle himself from the soiled blankets before helping him slowly get to his feet. Peter’s legs almost gave out from underneath him but Happy’s firm hold kept him standing as he was led out of the bedroom and into the bathroom.

“You still feeling sick?”

Peter silently nodded his head, his throat too sore for him to talk.

“Alright.” Happy said as he helped Peter sit on the edge of the bathtub. “I’m going to grab you some clothes. Just stay here, alright?”

Peter nodded again as Happy turned around and walked out of the bathroom. He closed his eyes from the bright LED bathroom lights and slowly bent over, resting his arms on his legs, feeling too weak to hold himself up any longer. He just wanted to lie back down and go back to bed. His stomach was still churning away unhappily. Peter let out a low groan as he wrapped his arms around his aching stomach, face twisting in pain.

Why was this happening? His healing factor should be kicking this bug or whatever this was by now.

Happy walked back in the bathroom a moment later, pausing in the doorframe when he saw Peter’s face.

“Pete… you alright?” He asked, tone laced with concern as he put the stack of clothes on the sink countertop before kneeling down beside Peter, resting a hand on the teen’s shivering back. “What’s going on?”

Peter sat up a bit more with a wince. “M-My stomach hurts… and I…” He stopped and closed his eyes. “I just don’t feel good.”

Happy rubbed his back in small circles in a soothing motion. “I know you don’t, kid.”

They sat there for a few minutes until Peter’s eyes flew open and he lunged for the toilet when his stomach decided to rebel once again. His mouth filled with hot saliva immediately before he gagged into the porcelain bowl, a stream of spit dropping into the water. His stomach cramped again, a groan escaping Peter’s mouth.

“Nothing’s coming up…” Peter miserably whined as his eyes began to water up.

Happy’s hand resumed it’s position on his back but it did nothing to help him feel better.

Another cramp hit his stomach, along with a horrible wave of nausea and Peter found himself dry heaving over the toilet again for a few minutes before something finally came up.

He lost concept of time shortly after that, in between throwing up, gasping and crying.

When it was finally over for the time being, Peter was a shivering mess on the bathroom floor, pale under the LED lighting. Happy got up to get him a glass of water from the sink and crouched down to his level, holding it out for him to take. Peter took the glass in shaking hands, taking a few small sips before handing it back to him, resuming his position of slumping over the toilet with his head resting on the rim.

“Think you can move? We need to get you cleaned up and out of those clothes.” Happy said, breaking the silence that had settled over the bathroom.

Peter shrugged his shoulders without moving his head away from the toilet rim, relishing in the coldness on his burning forehead.

“Okay… uh…” He heard Happy mumbling to himself as the man stood up and opened a few drawers in the vanity beside him before he heard water running behind him in the tub. “Alright. You’re probably not going to like it but we need to get you cleaned up. How about you take a shower? Do you think you can do it alone or…” Happy said, clearly uncomfortable.

Peter weakly lifted his head. “N-No… I can do it.”

“Okay.” Happy said, coming to his side. “Let’s get you up, kid.”

Happy helped him up and sat him down on the closed toilet lid after flushing away the contents of Peter’s stomach. Peter blinked a few times to clear the fuzziness from his vision as he sat there, Happy going around in the bathroom getting everything ready for him. The man turned to walk out but stopped in the doorframe, turning around to look at him with concerned eyes.

“I’ll be right outside if you need me, okay?”

Peter nodded. “Yeah. Thanks, Happy.”

Once the bathroom door was closed, Peter let out a small sigh as he slowly stood up from the toilet and began to take off his soiled clothes, nose drinking in disgust as he realized that he had thrown up all over himself, mostly his shirt.

The shower was already running at a warm temperature, so he got in and closed the glass door behind himself, a violent shiver wracking his frame from the water hitting his overheated skin. But it feels so good.

Peter washed himself off before he gets to his hair, rubbing in the shampoo and conditioner mix that smelt like lavender. Thankfully the scent wasn’t too much for his overly sensitive senses because the last thing he wanted was to get any more sick than he already was.

How did he even get so sick to begin with? He hasn’t been sick since a few months ago when he caught a cold during his visit to the Stark’s cabin for a week-long visit. And that was nothing compared to whatever this was. It was just weird how suddenly he got sick this time around.

Peter frowned as he rinsed out the shampoo from his hair, trying to think back to anything that could have been the cause for him getting sick.

That’s when it hit him.

It could be because of the hotdogs he ate last night… so he had food poisoning? He’s gotten food poisoning once before, a year ago, when he had ordered a separate Thai chicken dish when he went out with May for dinner. She never had any of it so she thankfully never got sick. He had puked all night and stayed in bed for a whole day before he felt better.

Only this time it was way worse.

Turning off the shower after he was all done, Peter found the fluffy towel Happy had left for him on the hook and dried himself off, shivering as goosebumps spread on his arms and legs from the cold bathroom. He dried himself off as quickly and carefully as he could before he changed into the clean clothes that were left on the counter. Happy’s black t-shirt was far too big on Peter but he was grateful for it, along with the dark grey sweatpants.

He rubbed the towel on his head and managed to somewhat dry his wet curls, only making his hair a bit frizzy and more curly in the process. But he could honestly care less how ridiculous he must look at the moment, wearing baggy clothes with crazy hair and a bit delirious from his fever.

Peter finished up in the bathroom before he turned off the lights and opened the door, walking back towards his bedroom. Happy was throwing a new, white comforter over the mattress when he shuffled in.

“I think it was the hotdogs.” Peter miserably stated.

Happy turned to him with a raised brow. “What hotdogs?”

“I had some last night when I was on patrol. I think I have food poisoning.”

“Well that explains it then. I’m sorry, kid.”

“Me too.” Peter sadly agreed as Happy helped him back into bed, sinking down in the mattress. “I’m sorry I puked everywhere.”

“It’s alright. Don’t worry about it.” Happy told him, pulling the comforter up to Peter’s chin. “I’m going to get you something to drink and give Tony a quick call. You need anything else?”

Peter silently shook his head.

“Alright. I’ll be right back.” Happy said with a slight smile before he left his side, heading out into the hallway.

Peter breathed out a sigh through his nose and rolled over onto his side, brows pulling together in discomfort when his abdominal muscles protested from the movement. He closed his eyes and tried to ignore all of the aches that were coursing through his body.

One thing was for certain… he was never going to eat hotdogs from that vendor guy again, not even if they were free.

Peter was lightly dozing when Happy came back, gently shaking his shoulder. He sluggishly blinked his eyes open, only to see that Happy was holding out his cellphone to him.

“Tony wants to talk to you.”

Peter snaked an arm out from underneath the comforter and took the phone in his hand and brought it to his ear. Happy left the room again to give him some privacy.

“Hi.” He hoarsely answered.

“Hey, kiddo. Happy told me you’re not feeling so hot, huh?” Tony’s voice came on the other end and Peter almost wanted to cry in relief from hearing his voice, wishing that he was here with him now.

“No.”

“Aw, I’m sorry, bud. I wish I could be there with you now to make things better.”

“I wish you were here.” Peter miserably admitted, closing his eyes. Tony always made things better and the only thing Peter wanted was to be wrapped in the man’s warm, comforting arms.

“I know, bud. Tell you what… I can be there in forty-five minutes? I’ll stop off on my way and get you some wonton soup from your favorite Chinease place?”

A small, sad smile spread on the teen’s face. “Yeah, that sounds good.”

“Okay. Well I’ll be there in a little bit and I’ll let Happy know when I’m five minutes away. You just try to get some sleep and rest up, kiddo.”

“I’ll try.”

“Alright. I’ll see you soon, Pete.” Tony told him, voice full of fondness.

“Okay. Drive safe.”

Happy walked back in the room as they hung up. After talking with Tony, Peter did feel a little bit better with knowing that he was on his way. It wasn’t that Happy wasn’t helping him because he was and Peter felt horrible about all of this, but he just wasn’t Tony.

“He’s on his way. He said he’d call you when he’s fine minutes away.” Peter said, handing the phone back over.

“That’s good.” Happy nodded, pocketing his phone, putting a glass of water down on the nightstand for Peter. “Do you need anything? Want to watch anything?” He offered.

Peter shook his head. “No, I think I’m going to take a nap.”

“Alright.” Happy nodded. “I have some paperwork I need to get started on so I’ll be out in the living room if you need me.”

“Okay.” Peter said as Happy turned around and headed back to the door. “Hey, Happy?”

He stopped in his tracks and turned around and looked at him, eyebrows raised in question.

“Thanks for this… and taking care of me. I’m sorry, I know that this isn’t how you wanted to spend your weekend.”

A smile tugged at the corner of the man’s mouth as he shook his head. “It’s alright. I’d do anything for you, Pete.”

A warmth spread through Peter at that, feeling his cheeks heat up from the admission.

“Feel better, kid.” Happy smiled before he turned back around and left the room.

Peter smiled to himself and rolled over on his side, facing the curtain-covered window. He closed his eyes and pulled the blankets over himself more, hearing the faint sound of footsteps in the other room that lulled him into a peaceful slumber.

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