Helping Hand
"I-I think I'm done." Peter said as he reached up to flush the toilet from where he was sitting beside it after vomiting again. He had lost count how many times he had leaned over the toilet and chocked out his guts.
Tony reached over and flushed the toilet with his left hand before helping Peter prop himself up against the bathtub. "Just sit here for a minute. We don't wanna move you before we are absolutely sure you're done."
Peter nodded, and closed his eyes, focusing on his breathing when he felt someone pat his cheek gently. He opened his eyes and saw Tony holding a small paper cup in his hands. "Don't want it."
"I don't want you to get dehydrated, Peter. Just a little bit." The older of the two insisted, gently pressing the rim against Peter's lips, but when the teenager shook his head, he continued to speak. "Open your mouth and tilt your head back, then."
The teen did what he was told, and let his mentor tilt some water into his mouth, swallowing it as it cooled his stinging throat.
"Better?" His mentor asked as he put the paper cup on the edge of the bathtub, and pulled Peter closer, deciding to wait about five minutes before helping the kid walk to his room so he could keep a eye on him.
"Yeah."
"Good." Tony smiled, gently squeezing his shoulder and trying to ignore the ache in his bones as he sat against the tub. He was getting too old for this, but he wouldn't trade anything for the calm and quiet he currently has with his teenager.
•••••••••••
It was two hours later, and luckily, Peter was able to keep down water, even if his hands were so shaky that Tony had to hold the cup. The teen was now sleeping on Pepper's side of the bed while Tony absent mindedly scrolled through some blue prints for future projects.
But he knew that he had to get something other then water into Peter's stomach, so he slowly got out of the bed in order to insure he was still sleeping, and went downstairs to make some soup, Luckily, after Pepper got pregnant with Morgan, his wife insisted on making sure he was able to cook decently for when she wasn't home.
He took his prosthetic right arm off as he grabbed some salt, carrots, celery, and chicken, preparing them while heating up a pot with some chicken base and noodles Pepper made last night for dinner.
In the midst of his cooking, however, Tony heard one of his least favorite sounds. Peter was crying. It was only then that the genius, playboy, billionaire and philanthropist remembered Peter was prone to nightmares when he was sick.
So, he turned off the burner on the stove before sprinting up the stairs to his room, turning on the light and sitting on the edge of the bed before gently shaking Peter's shoulder with his left hand. "Petey, wake up. Just a dream."
"We won, Mr. Stark..." Peter cried, thrashing in his blankets. "Y-you did it...you did it."
"Peter." Tony tried again, trying to block out the fact that he was reliving the battle that nearly cost him his life. "Peter, wake up."
Peter shot straight up, gasping and coughing, looking around the room till his eyes met Tony's. "Y-you're okay?"
"Yeah, I'm alright. Are you?" Tony asked, running his fingers through Peter's curly hair before gently propping up a few pillows and helping Peter lay back down. He heard the kid take a few deep breaths, but when he glanced at Tony's right arm, his breathing sped up again, to which Tony started combing his left through his hair again. "Kiddo, I'm okay. I just took the prosthetic off for a bit while I was making your soup."
"P-promise?"
"I promise." He smiled, kissing the teen's forehead, and grabbing the water on the nightstand, helping him take a few sips before handing him his cell phone. "Call your aunt. Even though she's on her honeymoon, she's gonna want to hear from you. I'll be right back with your soup." Tony insisted, going back downstairs, putting back on his prosthetic arm before spooning the soup into a bowl and popping it into the microwave, making a mental note to put the rest up later.
When the soup was done, Tony grabbed a spoon and a small stack of napkins and went back to his room as Peter was finishing the phone call, setting the things he brought up on the nightstand, making himself comfortable on the bed.
"I'll see you then. Bye, May." Peter finished, clicking the 'end call' button and setting the phone down, relaxing on the pillows.
"How's your aunt?"
"I think I interrupted her and Happy." Peter fake shuddered, even though he was really happy for May and Happy, he didn't want to think about their sex life.
"They have plenty of time to get it on for another five days in Hawaii." Tony joked, leading Peter to fake gag, scaring Tony enough to shove the bucket under his chin.
"I'm messing with you."
"You're a little shit, you know that, right?" The inventor questioned, putting the bucket on the ground before asking. "Are your hands still shaky?" The response he got was Peter lifting his hands off the blanket and watching them twitch, so the older of the two sighed and picked up the spoon, putting it in the bowl. "Hear comes the airplane, or whatever that bullshit is."
Peter opened his mouth and allowed himself to be spoon fed, feeling his hands shake and his eyes close as he swallowed the warm soup. "Thanks..."
"Anytime, kid."
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