#im sick of going to this cold as fuck grocery store scanning peoples groceries even tho they can do it all themselves

[sicklylittlesnowflake]

oh dayum that spiderman fic was heavenly. could i possibly suggest another prompt? so how about peter being sick (obvs) when he's out fighting crime etc and he gets hit and thrown against a wall which quickly knocks him out (being weak from his illness and all) and his suit not only tracking him but also his vitals sends an alert to tony who comes to collect the whumpy peter

(Do u know what..despite me being all for the whump I’ve realised this is like only my second time writing injury wtf?? like the first time I did it was like barely even there lmao.. I’m sorry if this wasn’t very cohesive, I’m just back from a holiday and trying to get back into the swing of things!)

Crime was so much bigger than him.

Peter knew this. He knew it too well. He learned a painful lesson through his loss of Uncle Ben that crime was crime, and it had to be stopped. Because not doing anything causes a huge ripple effect, a devastating butterfly effect that would harm many innocent people like himself. In the past, he had been ignorant and unaware of the true consequences of his own actions or lack of, and now that he knew, it was Peter’s mission to look out for the little guy and try his hardest to make sure this wouldn’t happen to anyone else. It was a type of pain he wouldn’t have wished on his worst enemies.

Justice needed to be served. He had to push through anything and everything, because all of this had a devastating ripple effect and Peter’s job was to nip it in the bud. It was his duty. Even if he was sick.

“God, Peter, you look horrible,” Ned frowned as he walked down the corridor with his best friend as the last bell of the day rang.

“I feel it too,” Peter groaned, struggling to keep his heavy eyes from drooping down and shutting for good. He could feel his raging fever, and his body shook ferociously as he sniffled weakly.

Ned eyed him carefully, taking in his sickly features, “You shouldn’t have come in today–or went to the nurse. I guess this means no crime fighting tonight.”

Peter scoffed, tending up defensively, “Ned, you know I can’t do that! I can’t have someone die because I took a sick day.”

Ned rolled his eyes, “Peter, there is barely any crime here anyways. I bet you any comic you want in my collection that nothing will happen tonight. You can take a sick day.”

Peter sighed, coughing into his fist, “Yeah, I guess so. Well, if anything does happen, my sick day is over and I get the Death of Superman, yeah?”

Ned chuckled, “Sure.”

They walked in silence for a while, to Peter’s relief. He was glad he had someone like Ned who knew him well, he knew that Peter had a headache and needed some much needed silence. The rambunctious High School certainly didn’t do that for him.

The two best friends kept walking until they met a point where two roads diverged into different blocks. The point that separated them from their usual walk home. Ned turned over and moved to the right, and gave Peter a gentle smile, “Get better soon, Peter.”

Peter managed a weak smile back and moved left, and continued the trek up to his apartment block where he collapsed into his bed the moment he stepped into his room.

A few hours later Peter woke up to a splitting headache. He groaned, his hand shooting up to his head as he tried to soothe it.

He craved for some aspirin, and medicine to cool down this raging fever. His body felt as if it was being pinned down by a huge mound of rocks, and there was nothing he could do to lift himself off of his bed. He forced his heavy body out of bed, feeling weak to the bones.

Peter sighed and staggered out of his bedroom, to find a post it on his bedroom door that he didn’t notice when he had gotten home.

It read, “Im working late tonight, there’s money on the coffee table for dinner. I larb you! :)”

Peter smiled fondly, and tried to make it to the bathroom as quick as he could so he could find some medicine. Once he managed to get there, he pulled open the cupboard to find nothing but empty packets and medicine boxes.

Peter frowned, sighing. He figured that he would just tough it out for now, but once another surge of pain shot up his head that his body shuddered violently, he knew he needed medicine. He sighed, he needed to buy dinner anyway.

He threw on a coat and a scarf, and his backpack so he could carry his dinner, and quickly grabbed at the money Aunt May had left on the table and staggered out of his apartment, heading out onto the streets.

The cashier frowned worriedly as she scanned Peter’s medicine, as well as a can of soup and OJ. She bagged the products, eyes still lingering on an obviously sick Peter.

“Uh..you okay kid?” She asked worriedly, a little awkwardly.

Peter sniffled, looking up at her with bleary eyes and tried to register what she was saying. He felt extremely drowsy and sluggish, his brain not computing as fast as it normally did.

“..huh..Oh, yeah, I’m okay.”

She nodded worriedly, and took his money and gave him his change. She cleared her throat, “Alright, well, look after yourself, okay?”

Peter managed a weak smile and took his bag of groceries. He quickly stuffed it into his backpack and left the store. He was silent as he left, pulling his jacket closer against himself to try and insulate his body heat. It was a still night and it wasn’t hot or cold, but Peter felt as if it was the dead of winter.

As he was about to turn back to his block, a faint ringing began in his ears.

He felt a weird sensation, suddenly very awake and alarmed. The ringing increased in volume, and then he could hear it. He could hear some sort of ruckus coming from a few blocks away. His senses were heightening. He felt this magnetic urge, a strong desire boiling in his blood. It was drawing him to the only conclusion he could act upon. He had to do something, despite how awful he was feeling. It was his duty.

“Ned owes me a comic,” Peter muttered under his breath as he sprinted towards the alleyway, his head pounding, as he unzipped his backpack to retrieve his suit.

“Why are you doing this?! Who are you?! Please, just take my money!” A middle-aged man cried out, squirming beneath a much larger mans grasp, kicking desperately in an attempt to escape. Tears streamed down his face, nose bleeding and bruises shadowing his skin.

The larger man, his head oddly disfigured and enlarged, his skull misshapen and wide, snarled at him, spitting on him, his fist balling up the man’s shirt viciously, “It doesn’t matter who I am, It doesn’t matter who you are and why I’m doing this, I have orders and that is it. You are going to die, and that is all that matters.”

“Please don’t, I have a family,” The man begged tearfully, his body trembling violently in fear.

“Family ain’t jack shit,” The large man snarled, a slight twinge of a Russian accent coming through. He pulled the gun out of his pocket and raised it to his victim’s head. His fingers grazed the trigger and suddenly a flash of red knocked the weapon out of his hand. The gun flung across the alleyway, far out of his reach.

“What?!” He exclaimed in confusion, bewildered. When he looked up, he was greeted to see the Spiderman.

“You don’t turn your back on family,” Peter said in a mock Vin Diesel voice.

“Who the fuck is this punk ass kid?!” The man hissed.

“Hey! That isn’t very nice, Hammerhead!” Peter shot back, shooting a web-slinger over to a wall, swinging towards the large man and kicking him in the head.

“Go, go!” Peter yelled at the victim, to which he met his eyes which were flooding with so much gratitude and relief. The man sprinted, running as fast as he could, away from it all.

He watched as the victim ran off, a sense of relief in his system. He felt his body begin to settle down, relaxing, his body feeling a bit weaker and fainter. The adrenaline seemed to be fading, and his fever coming back rapidly and spreading.

Before Peter could think much of this, Hammerhead punched him, and Peter hissed as a sharp pain shot up his face, already feeling his eye begin to bruise up.

Before Peter could retaliate, he was being shoved towards the hard cold gravel. His brain was moving too slow, his senses horribly impaired and he couldn’t fight to the standard he was used to. The sharp little clints of the gravel digging into his spine, scratching at his skin. Peter groaned in pain, trying to pick himself off of the ground but found that his dangerously fevered body was too heavy to pick up.

Hammerhead yanked Peter up by the scruff, causing him to feel extremely woozy and dizzy by the sudden, jerking movement. His head throbbed painfully, stabbing at his brains as sharp pains shot up his head. He whimpered, a strangled sob escaping him in pain as Hammerhead punched him repeatedly, and dropping him onto the floor again.

Peter managed to stand up, his legs wobbly and shaking. The world spun rapidly, seeing double, and a sharp rush of pain flooded his senses and he gasped, collapsing on the floor. His body felt like it was on fire, as he gasped for air and clenched his teeth to try and withstand the  overwhelming amount of pain he felt. He let out a scream of anguish as he felt warm liquid soaking his suit. He could taste the salty, metallic liquid in his mouth.

Just as he tried to stand again, he was thrust upward and Hammerhead head butted him with what felt like a wrecking ball. He was thrown across the alleyway, head hitting against the concrete wall. Peter tried to scream again, and he wasn’t sure if he was loud enough, because he couldn’t hear anything. His limp body slid down the wall, dropping against the concrete with a sickening thud as his vision went dark.

“Mr Stark, would you like a report on Mr Parkers vitals?”

Tony raised an eyebrow, continuing to tweak at a piece of tech, fully immersed in his work and unavailable.

“Yeah, sure,” He said absentmindedly.

“Mr Parker has a fever of 103.6 degrees and has several bruises, is bleeding from numerous cuts and is currently passed out from a concussion.”

Tony’s heart sank. It was like time had ceased to exist as he froze, his body malfunctioning.

“FRIDAY, please tell me the location of Mr Parker,” Tony breathed out shakily, trying to stay composed as his blood ran cold.

“The coordinates have been sent to your suit, sir. He is still in Queens.”

Tony finally regained his senses and ran towards his suit, quickly donning it and was flying out of Stark Tower and towards Queens as fast as his suit could take him.

“Where are you, where are you,” Tony hissed to himself frustratedly, feeling his heart beat loudly and rapidly. He scanned the area and followed the coordinates given to him.

Soon enough, he was brought to a shady looking alleyway where he quickly landed. Tony ran down the alleyway to find Peter sprawled across the floor, unconscious, and bleeding.

“Shit!” Tony cursed, his chest growing heavy with fear as he ran towards his limp body. He scooped him into his arms and cradled him. He quickly ripped off his mask and gasped at the sight of the bleeding, sickly boy. Just a boy, not a fierce, immortal superhero. Tony saw so much of himself in this kid it sent shivers down his spine.

He was scarily white, bruises dotting his face. He was so weak and limp, Tony feared he was too late. Catastrophic thoughts clouded his mind for a while as his breathing picked up as he frantically felt his forehead, which was scorching hot. He felt for a pulse, and was relieved when he found one, but was still incredibly frightened.

“Oh my god, Peter, Peter, oh god, please be okay,” Tony whispered tearfully, running a hand through Peter’s damp locks in fear that if he were to let him go he would lose him forever.

“FRIDAY, please do a scan,” He choked nervously.

“Mr.Parker requires immediate and extensive care. I have contacted Dr.Sanchez over to the Stark Tower to see to the damage. But, if you complete these tasks Mr Parker should make a steady, albeit slow recovery.”

Tony let out a relieved sigh, but still couldn’t help the guilt pitting and gnawing at his stomach.

Peter was just a kid and he did this to him.

Tony brought him into this horrible world. Peter should be a kid, he should be a kid who went to high school and rested on his sick day. He shouldn’t be fighting crime. Peter was here because of him. He had brought him into this world and he couldn’t take him out of it. He trapped him.

Tony stood up, shakily, but had never held anyone so steadily in his life. He cradled Peter in his arms and took off into flight, trying to speed back to Stark Tower as fast as he could. His heart seemed to be racing against time, racing back home so Peter could be safe.

“Mr Stark..?” Peter stirred, eyes still closed.

“Don’t open your eyes. You need rest,” Tony said shakily. Below them seemed to be the entire world, and the world wasn’t always kind. Peter had a taste of that today, and Tony didn’t want him to look down in fear that if Peter looked down, he’d be lost and overwhelmed in the realisation that the world was so big.

That there was so much more bad out there than either of them could ever imagine.

Peter woke up to a dull ache spread across his body, and a headache booming in his temples. He groaned in pain, lifting a hand to rub his eyes when pain shot up his face as he hissed and withdrew his hand quickly. His eye was most certainly bruised.

He cracked his eyes open tiredly, still feeling feverish and was alarmed to see daylight streaming from the window. His eyes widened and he shot up, looking around at his familiar surroundings and gasping as he realised where he was.

Tony opened the door, his face lighting up as he saw the boy awake. He tried to mask the relief and joy he was feeling, but Peter saw through it.

“You’re alive,” Tony observed.

“Mr Stark–my aunt, the–”

“I called her last night. I had to talk her out of trying to come over here last night. She was really worried,” Tony explained.

He sighed, “I was really worried, Pete.”

Peter shook his head, “Mr Stark, that bad guy got away, we need to–”

“Absolutely not!” Tony hissed.

Peter fell silent.

Tony sighed, sitting down at the edge of the bed and pinching the bridge of his nose, “I’m sorry. I thought I lost you last night, Pete. I’m not sure if this is safe for you, you are just a kid.”

Tears pricked Peter’s eyes as he crossed his arms angrily, “Do you not believe in me, Mr Stark?! I try so hard, all the time! I just want to do the right thing! You can’t just take this away from me!”

Tony widened his eyes, “That’s not what I meant by that, Peter. You’re extraordinary, but you don’t deserve this. You deserve to be safe, I thrust you into this situation to your doom! You’re hurt, look at you, Pete! This wouldn’t have happened if I hadn’t given you that damn suit!”

“I had a suit before this one, Mr Stark! I would still be doing the same thing, with or without you! You gave me a cool suit that helped me along, but you didn’t do this to me. This was my choice, I stand by it!”

Tony let out a shaky sigh, “I’m sorry, Pete..I just..thought I had killed you last night. I couldn’t bare the thought..”

Peter softened, “Fighting evil is much bigger than me. It’s bigger than you. You know that, don’t you, Mr Stark? You know sacrifices are going to have to be made for the greater good. You were my hero growing up, still are, you’ve made sacrifices before. In the grand scheme of things, this is nothing. It’s just the small price we have to pay for something much greater.”

Tony stared at him with a mixture of fear, sorrow, guilt, but also acceptance. He managed a weak smile.

“Then I’ll join you. That way, we can help more people, even if that means one of us might get hurt along the way. We’ll be stronger together,” Tony said firmly.

Peter smiled at him brightly, like he hailed from the sun.

Tony sighed and inched closer to him, pulling Peter in for a warm hug, rubbing his back lovingly, holding him close. He felt a feeling of love in his heart for Peter who felt like a son, and it felt so nice and warm.

He let out a shaky breath, letting himself smile, “You’re a great kid, Peter. You’re really going to make the world turn and put stars in people’s lives. You are going to be great, and I am lucky to be in a world with someone like you.”

#peter parker #tony stark #spiderman homecoming #ned leeds #spiderman #tom holland spiderman #marvel #mcu #whump #sickfic #injury #fever #whump fic #tw violence #tw blood #prompts