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Peter is Trying His Best

Summary:

“Peter?” She whispered, slightly panicked. His groggy mind registered the warmth coming off of her as she pushed against him, and a rolling sensation in his stomach. “I’m going to throw up.” She mumbled quietly.

Or: While Peter is babysitting, Morgan gets sick. Peter still tries to be a good babysitter, despite feeling sick himself.

Notes:

Did this take me was too long to write? Yes. Is it bad? Probably. Will you still read it? Hopefully.

But seriously, this isn’t amazing but it’s an idea I had and wanted to share. Let me know what you think!

Work Text:

Peter honestly didn’t think he could get sick since the spider bite. His immune system had managed to fight off every bug before he had even known his stomach was hurting for years by now. It wasn’t that he thought he didn’t have to take care of himself, he still made sure to wash his hands and take his vitamins. Though because of this, when Morgan said that her stomach hurt while he was babysitting her the thought of him getting sick didn’t even cross his mind.

It was a short trip, just a couple days for a business conference in Seattle, and the Stark’s had decided to entrust Peter with taking care of six year old Morgan. Peter was happy to spend his long weekend with Morgan at the lake house especially now with midterms over, and had immediately agreed.

As he pulled up, he could see Morgan and Tony waiting on the porch, Tony leaning in a porch chair reading something on his tablet and Morgan laying down coloring, her legs kicking behind her lazily. Peter smiled at the domestic image before him, remembering the days when Tony had insisted he would never have a kid.

He had barely pulled into the driveway before Morgan had noticed and excitedly stood up. Tony seemed to notice too, as a lazy smile spread across his face. He raised his hand in greeting as Peter stepped out of the car, slamming the door, and Morgan bolted towards him. She screamed with delight as he lifted her in the air with ease. She continued to giggle as he held her while he walked over to Tony to greet him.

“Hey Pete.” The smile was still on his face as Peter approached. Tony stood slowly, pulling Peter in a hug which only made Morgan giggle more as she was squished between them.

Just then the door clicked open, and Pepper appeared with two rolling bags and a tense look on her face.

“Tony, we have to go or we’ll miss our flight.” She was saying as she stepped out of the house. She looked up and saw Peter hugging Tony, and she smiled, the tense look disappearing. She stood up straight, holding her arms out and Peter turned to hug her as well.

“Hey Pepper.” Peter spoke into her shoulder.

“How are you sweetie?” She asked, the same concerned yet happy tone only a mother would give their child evidently in her voice.

“I’m okay,” he said as he pulled away from the hug, “kind of tired from midterms but glad they’re over.” Pepper smiled knowingly, threading her hand through his hair in a motherly way that made Peter’s heart ache.

It’s not that he didn’t love Aunt May, he loved and appreciated her more than anything. It’s just that she was never a mother to him. Now with Pepper in his life, especially after Morgan was born, he longs for the soft touch and affection that only a mother could give.

“You’re sure you are okay for this weekend? Because we can reschedule-“ Tony started, as he always does whenever he asks Peter to babysit.

“Mr. Stark, I’m okay. Morgan and I will have a great time. Right Morgs?” Morgan excitedly nodded, before launching into an in depth explanation on her very realistic plans for the weekend. Tony smiled fondly before glancing up at Peter.

“Seriously though,” he started in a low voice as to not interrupt Morgan, “if you need anything at all, please call us. We can come at any moment if you need us to.” Peter nodded, though he made a mental promise to not interrupt their weekend.

With that, the Stark’s soon left (minus the youngest one), reminding Peter again to call them if he needed anything. Peter and Morgan stepped inside, Morgan scrambling off to set up a game she wanted to play and Peter heading to the kitchen to make sure he had food for dinner. Tony seemed to overcompensate for his metabolism by overfilling the fridge and freezer, leaving a note on the fridge letting him know he can eat anything. Peter smiled as he read the note, which was scrawled out in Tony’s messy yet recognizable handwriting.

“Petey!” Morgan called from the living room, letting him know she was ready to play. He smiled, walking into the living room.

———

Everything was going surprisingly well by bedtime. They played for a couple hours until Peter had to make dinner (“Macaroni!” Morgan had screeched), then they ate and Peter sent Morgan off to bed with minimal complaint from her end.

He had only just settled into the couch, turning on the tv when Morgan reappeared.

“Peter?” She said quietly, her voice making Peter immediately panic. She was so quiet and sounded scared. “I don’t feel good.”

“Come here.” He pulled her onto his lap, which she easily climbed onto. “What hurts?” He asked.

“My tummy.” She mumbled, already sounding like she’s going to cry.

“Okay, okay,” he was trying to stay calm for her sake, “do you think you might throw up?” She whimpered lightly and nodded.

“Okay, I’m going to take you to the bathroom so you don’t make a big mess. Is that okay?” Again she nodded and he scooped her up.

Just as he was taking her up the stairs though, she suddenly wriggled and whimpered. Before he could ask what was wrong, he heard a distinct sound and felt something warm on his stomach. He pulled her away from him in surprise, lowering her to the ground as he surveyed the damage.

The good news was none of the vomit hit the ground, the bad news was that what shielded the ground was his body.

“Now it’s time to panic.”

Peter ignored the thought, instead focusing on Morgan who was now full on crying.

“Hey, sweetie it’s okay, it’s okay.” He tried to comfort her despite the vomit dripping down his shirt. “Please don’t cry, I can fix this.” He could not fix this, he felt like he was going to throw up.

He sent Morgan to the bathroom to brush her teeth while he quickly discarded his shirt and put a different one on. He’ll have to shower later, once she’s asleep again. He headed to her room, making a quick pit stop in the kitchen to grab a large bowl and plastic bag to line it, and then to the med cabinet to grab her some medication with FRIDAY’s assistance. He was trying to stay calm, but his racing heart was making it difficult to do so.

As he entered her room, he saw her sitting quietly on her bed with a book. She still looked a bit pale, beads of sweat on her forehead but she already looked better.

He walked over, sitting on the edge of the bed as he placed the bowl on her nightstand. He opened his arms and she dropped the book, crawling into his lap. He handed her a glass of water and some of the medicine for her to take, which she did with no complaint.

“Do you feel better?” He asked softly.

“Yeah. My tummy doesn’t hurt as much.” Peter smiled gently, though his heart rate hadn’t slowed.

“Do you think you can sleep now? See how you feel in the morning?” She nodded, moving off of his lap to lay down. Just as he was about to stand up though, she held out her arms to him.

“Stay with me, Petey? I don’t want to throw up again.” He weighed his options, knowing he really had to shower, but surely there could be no harm in just staying with her for a little bit.

“Okay, but only until you fall asleep.” He crawled into the bed with her, FRIDAY automatically dimming the lights. She snuggled into him, a slight heat radiating off of her.

———

Peter did not mean to fall asleep. He woke up at one am feeling weirdly warm with Morgan wriggling against him, trying to wake him up.

“Peter?” She whispered, slightly panicked. His groggy mind registered the warmth coming off of her as she pushed against him, and a rolling sensation in his stomach. “I’m going to throw up.” She mumbled quietly.

Those words were enough to launch Peter back into action. He reached across her, sitting her up as he shoved the bowl into her lap. Sure enough, vomit splattered on the side of the bowl as Morgan heaved. Pity pushed at Peter’s heart as he held her hair back with one hand, gently rubbing her back with the other.

“Shh….just let it out.” He mumbled, letting his mind supply him with soothing words to tell her. “It’s okay Baby, you’re okay.” She quickly finished, as she could not have much in her stomach anymore, and lied back down clutching her stomach.

“Are you done?” She nodded and Peter stood, taking the plastic bag and tying it. He took it to the garage where he knew the trash can was, pointedly ignoring how the smell alone made him nauseous.

When he returned with a new plastic bag, Morgan was already asleep again and he figured he wouldn’t try to wake her up again. He made sure FRIDAY would alert him if Morgan needed any help, and went to shower.

The cold water was soothing on his strangely warm skin, another thing he was choosing to ignore. He was glad to get the smell off of him, and felt a lot better when he stepped out.

He decided to sleep on the couch, which was much closer to Morgan’s bedroom than his room.

———

By the morning Peter was exhausted. Morgan had woken up one more time, just before five in the morning, but this time she didn’t throw up. By the time she was asleep again, Peter was no longer tired enough to sleep.

At about six, Peter decided to update Tony, who was concerned not only by the state of his daughter but also by Peter’s exhausted appearance.

“Do you need us to come back? You look pale kiddo.” Tony asked. Peter considered for a moment, but knew he would much rather not have them have to leave. It was only one more day. It took a lot of convincing, but eventually Tony decided he would just hold off until the next day unless anything changes.

Morgan slept until ten in the morning, a luxury Peter wished he had gotten. By the time she was up, she was looking considerably better and Peter considerably worse. The bug seemed to have run its course over the night, as Morgan was happy to eat breakfast and just as energetic as ever with the extra sleep. Peter still gave her some medication with her breakfast, and made sure the trash can was close enough just in case.

He opted out of breakfast, just the smell of her toast made him nauseous and he didn’t want to chance it.

“Do you want some of my toast?” Morgan asked innocently, most likely remembering the many conversations Tony had had with Peter about his metabolism. Peter smiled thinly, shaking his head.

“I’m okay, I ate earlier.” He lied, only feeling a little guilty about it. “What do you think about a movie day?” He suggested, silently begging Morgan to agree. Much to his relief, Morgan excitedly nodded.

“Can we watch Moana?” She asked, tilting her head in an adorable way.

“Yeah, after breakfast we can set up.” He washed the dishes and put them away while Morgan ran to grab blankets. Unfortunately, during breakfast Peter’s stomach had started to hurt. Like REALLY hurt. He knew he was going to throw up eventually, but he also knew he couldn’t do that to Morgan. Just one more day, then he can go back to his dorm and be miserable.

“Petey?” Morgan touched his leg gently and Peter jumped, not having heard her come in, his spider sense having no effect now.

“Sorry Morg, I didn’t see you. What’s up?” He tried to be as natural as possible for her.

“My stomach hurts.” She mumbled, and Peter felt like he was going to cry. He blinked back tears, trying to be as calm as possible.

“Okay, do you think you’re going to throw up again?” Morgan shrugged, staring at her feet.

“Okay, let’s go to the bathroom just in case, okay?” Morgan nodded and Peter guided her to the bathroom, this time with no incident.

———

Morgan did not end up throwing up again, but she did pass out on the sofa watching Moana. Peter threaded his hand through her hair, more to soothe himself than her. He felt bad that she felt bad, but he couldn’t help but feel a bit selfish for wanting to just be sick and not have to take care of her.

Once he was sure she was asleep, he shakily stood and went to the bathroom. He wasn’t sure if he could throw up, as he hadn’t eaten or drank anything of substance for just under twenty hours now.

He sat on the cold floor, taking solace in the cool tiles on his warm skin.

“FRIDAY?” His voice was croaky and he was sure he was going to cry. “Am I doing okay?” He had no idea why he asked this, he just needed someone to talk to, to comfort him.

“Peter, you have an elevated temperature and are severely dehydrated, nor have you eaten enough.” Peter dropped his head between his legs to help with the dizziness, vaguely waving his hand at FRIDAY.

“No, no. Am I doing okay with Morgan?” There was a hesitation as the AI calculated the best way to answer Peter in such a pitiable state.

“Considering the circumstances, you are doing great.”

———

When Tony entered the Lake house, he wasn’t sure what he was expecting.

He and Pepper left the conference early after talking to Peter that morning. There was no way he was letting his clearly sick kid take care of his other sick kid, especially not with how self sacrificial Peter could be.

When he entered, it was unexpectedly calm. Morgan was asleep on the couch, the end of Moana playing softly on the tv. Pepper turned to him, nodding towards Morgan, a silent agreement;

“I’ll get Morgan, you get Peter.”

Tony nodded, starting the search.
“Fri?” The question was clear, and FRIDAY quickly responded.

“He has been sleeping in the bottom floor bathroom for the last twenty minutes sir.” Tony nodded, already heading there.

When he opened the door, his heart stopped for a moment. Peter lay on the floor, shaking and too pale. He whimpered under his breath in his sleep, his cheeks rosy and tear stained.

Tony dropped down, gently shaking Peter’s shoulder to wake him up.

“C’mon Pete.” He murmured. The sound of his voice must’ve given Peter initiative to open his eyes, because within a moment his big brown eyes were staring confused and bleary eyed at Tony.

“Mr. St’rk?” He mumbled, sounding slightly delirious. That was enough for Tony though, and his heart steadied. He pulled Peter into a sitting position, checking him over.

“Fri? What’s the damage?”

“Peter has a temperature of 102.2 degrees Fahrenheit, and has not eaten a full meal since dinner last night. He is extremely dehydrated and sleep deprived, but stable enough to be cared for without medical assistance for now.”

“Where’s Morgan?” Peter asked quietly, not looking at Tony but rather past him.

“Pepper is taking care of her.” Tony replied, but that’s didn’t seem to register in Peter’s head. “Have you thrown up?” Peter shook his head. “Morgan threw up twice. She’s sick.” He mumbled, and Tony smiled at the sentiment.

“I’m going to get you food.” Tony stood to go to the kitchen, and Peter soon followed much to his surprise.

When they entered, Tony started on heating up soup while Peter sat at the island. He placed his forehead on the counter, most likely overheated.

“Is there any more I can make?” He mumbled into the counter, barely audible.

“You want more?” Tony asked, surprised considering Peter hasn’t wanted to eat at all. Peter looked up, confused.

“Isn’t that for Morgan? I can make my own.” Tony’s heart broke at the fact that Peter thought Morgan would come before him, even in his state.

“This is for you, Pete.” He clarified, but Peter just stared past him again, seemingly confused.

Tony continued to make the soup in silence. When he was done, he guided Peter to the couch with a bowl in hand. Peter settled into the couch, reaching for the soup eagerly. He must be starving, considering.

“Why didn’t you eat before?” Tony finally asked him.

“Didn’t want to throw up in front of her.” Sure enough, within a couple minutes, Peter was reaching for the bucket and throwing up. Tony’s heart ached, and he gently threaded his hand through his hair when he was finished.

“Sorry.” Peter mumbled, setting the bucket aside.

“No need to apologize. Do you want to eat more?” Peter shook his head, and Tony made a mental note to get him to eat later. Peter settled farther into the couch, eyes drooping closed.

“You know,” Tony started quietly, gently tracing Peter’s facial features with his finger, “I think of you as my kid.” Peter hummed gently, already falling asleep. “You’re just as much my kid as Morgan is.” Peter smiled lightly at that, cuddling further into Tony. Tony smiled, knowing that Peter most likely wouldn’t remember that when he woke up.

He’d have to remind him.