A/N Requested by Barbemeli   :) 

-story begins here- 

Peter sat in his bed, eyebrows scrunched together as he groaned, the loud beeping of his alarm filling his ears. School again. 

Peter didn't want to go today, at all, for he had Mr Wither that day, a teacher who for some reason had a grudge against Peter, taking every chance he got to criticise Peter, or tell him off for doing something wrong. 

Maybe, he thought, he could pretend to be sick. Auntie Tasha and Uncle Bucky were away for the week, so they wouldn't notice... a smug grin slid onto his face. 

So he sat up and got to work, using the steps from the really old movie he had seen- Ferris Buelers day off. 

First, he went to the bathroom and put on some makeup to make his eyes look baggy, then messed up his hair and used a little of Pepper's foundation to make his face look slightly pale. He trudged out to the kitchen where everyone was eating their breakfast, trying to make himself look extra tired and sick, one hand on his stomach.

"Morning Peter." Tony said, handing him a bowl of cereal. 

"Morning dad..." Peter mumbled, sitting on the chair furthest away from everyone and eating slowly, only a couple of mouthfuls, eventually leaving the bowl and resting his head in his hands. 

Steve, who was eating Vegemite on toast (an australian spread he had grown rather fond of) stood up, eyebrows furrowed in concern. 

"You okay Peter?" He asked, resting the back of his hand on Peter's forehead. 

"Yeah, I just have a stomach ache." Peter closed his eyes for more effect, one hand going to his stomach. 

"Why don't you go back to bed, I'll call up the school." Tony said gently. 

"But what about Ned? I can't leave him-"

"Ned'll Be okay one day without you. Go to bed." Vision interupted. 

Peter nodded tiredly and stood up, trudging back to his bedroom, where he laid back down in bed and pretended to go to sleep. He made sure to keep his hand on his stomach, and bit back a smile. 

That was surprisingly easy, he thought, already starting to drift off. 

The door opened, and in came Steve, sitting on the bed beside him. 

"Auntie Tasha and Bucky are coming home early from their mission, so you'll get to have Bucky hugs again." He whispered. 

Peter froze. Oh no. He was so screwed. 

Instead of freaking out like he currently wanted to, Peter just went 'mmhmm,' in order to keep up the act. Internally, he was panicking. They would take one look at him and know he was faking. 

"You get some sleep Peter, I'll start making some chicken soup." 

Chicken soup was always Steve's go-to when people were sick, thinking it made everyone better. It did taste good though, Peter would give it that. 

Once the door was closed after him, Peter pulled out his phone, pulling the blankets over his head just in case. 

Da Group Chat

PeterParkour!:

<help

<please

<im fake sicking and they all believe it but Auntie Tasha and Grandma Bucky r on their way home and theyre not going to buy it 

GuYInTHECHaIR: 

<sorry, I have no advice 

<im also in class rn, and i think the teacher saw me

<yep teacher saw me goodbye forever peter, remember my funeral plans

MJ:

<lol Ned's phone just gotten taken away

PeterParkour!:

<how r u texting and not betting caught

MJ:

<i am much more discrete when it comes to texting in class

<also Ned literally pulled his chair back and started staring at his crotch 😂

PeterParkour!:

<lol, do u have any advice for my dilemma?

MJ:

<do sicknesses that they can't prove that ur lying, like headaches n stuff

PeterParkour!:

<thanx, wish me luck

MJ:

<nah i don't wanna

<lol look at this 

MJ has attached a video:

PeterParkour!: 

<lol poor Ned, i feel bad now

MJ:

<gtg i almost laughed out loud cos Shuri sent me a hilarious meme and now the teachers suspicious

PeterParkour!:

<wait r u texting 2 ppl at once???

MJ:

<yep, ttyl, Shuri says hi btw, wants to know if it's wednesday my dudes

Peter laughed slightly at the message, bidding MJ goodbye, then pulled up a game, starting to play a game while he waited for his death to arrive in the form of Bucky and Natasha. 

"Where is he?" Bucky asked when he walked into the room, where Steve was in the kitchen making the chicken soup, and Pepper was doing a phone call, the others doing training. 

"In his room, sleeping." 

Bucky and Natasha immediately went to Peter's room, knocking slightly beforehand. 

"Peter?" Bucky whispered, sitting on the empty side of the bed beside where Peter lay, face buried in the pillows. 

"Hey Bucky." Peter mumbled, not moving, but instead sticking out one of his hands. Natasha watched from the doorway, leaning against the doorframe, gaze analysing. 

"How are you feeling?"

"Slightly better, mainly just a stomach ache." 

Natasha narrowed her eyes. 

"Peter, sit up." Peter did so, chewing the inside of his lip as Natasha and Bucky looked at him suspiciously. 

"Is that- foundation on your face?" Natasha asked dangerously. 

"Uh, no." Peter replied slightly nervously. 

Bucky's hand slipped underneath Peter's pillow and pulled out his phone, eyes narrowed as he sent a look to Peter. 

"Okay I'm sorry! I'm not sick, I lied, it was wrong, I just wanted to not go to school today because I have Mr Withers and he really doesn't like me and criticises me all the time!"

****

Tony glared down at Peter, arms folded, as Peter sat on the couch, staring at the ground, makeup gone and everyone surrounding him looking very disappointed. 

"Lying isn't nice Peter, especially about being sick. Capsicle even started making chicken soup for you." 

Peter lowered his head even more, feeling ashamed as everyone began lecturing him. 

Eventually, the lecturing came to an end, and Peter got the rest of the day off. He still felt guilty though, wandering through the many hallways of the tower, kicking his feet and keeping his hands in his pockets. 

As he was walking, he noticed a weird white thing on the ground, and picked it up wondering exactly what it did. 

As he was inspecting the top closely, it suddenly sprayed some sort of substance on him that smelled suspiciously like bug spray, which, went straight up his nose. 

Peter dropped the white thing, beginning to couch and sneeze, hand over his mouth. 

It stopped after a while, but he wasn't really feeling well, and kept sneezing and coughing every now and then. He hardly even ate his dinner either, but nobody commented on it. 

Every time he did so, someone would roll their eyes, not believing that he was actually sick. 

Peter decided to brush it off, hoping he was feeling better the next day. 

However, when Peter woke up, he felt the worst he had ever felt. 

He started coughing right away, something that had happened several times during the night when he couldn't sleep. 

His throat hurt, badly, and his stomach was cramping up so bad he wanted to curl up into a ball. He felt extremely hot, immediately kicking off his sweaty bedsheets. 

And when he stood up, a wave of dizziness and nausea washed over him. He felt the urge to vomit but stopped for a few seconds, swallowing and taking deep breaths. 

He got dressed slowly, knowing that they wouldn't believe him, and walked out to where everyone was sitting, stuffing his packet lunch into his bag. 

He was about to walk into the elevator when Tony stopped him. 

"Aren't you going to eat breakfast?" He asked, raising an eyebrow. 

Peter shook his head very slightly and immediately regretted it; apparently he had a headache now as well. Fantastic. 

"Not hungry." He croaked, surprising himself when he realised his voice was hoarse. 

"Look, stop with the act kid, no more faking. Come eat your breakfast and get going to school."

Peter rolled his eyes and plopped himself down onto the chair. "That's what I was doing..." he mumbled, then coughed. 

Peter stared down at the milky bowl of cereal, just the thought of eating making him nauseous. He grimaced and looked up at Tony, who was watching him expectantly. 

"I'm really not hungry, I think I'm just going to go to school." 

Tony sighed exhasperatedly. "Fine, go to school, but you'll be starving later." 

Peter nodded, standing up and holding the table to regain his balance as he suddenly felt extremely dizzy. He took a deep breath, then went to go back into the elevator, only to be stopped yet again. 

"Have a good day at school Peter." Steve told him, holding him in a motherly hug. Peter's stomach suddenly lurched. 

Oh no. 

"Did you just- did you just vomit on me?" Steve asked, pulling away from the hug and looking at the large amount of Peter's stomach emptied onto his shirt. 

"I'm so sorry m-mum, I didn't mean to, I-" Peter's legs colapsed beneath him, but Bucky, who was nearby, quickly caught him under the armpits. 

"Let's get you back to bed," he said, gently picking Peter up as Steve took his shirt off. 

"I'm sorry mum..." Peter kept mumbling as Bucky carried him back. 

"Steve's not mad Peter, it's okay." Bucky reassured him as he put him down on the bed. He turned away from Peter for a second. "Wanda! I need a bucket!"

A bucket, surrounded by red flame like air, shot into the room. Bucky turned back to Peter and handed him the bucket. 

"There you go Peter, if you feel nauseous, puke into the bucket. Steve'll probably be here in a moment with a new shirt and a heated up bowl of chicken soup, and Bruce'll probably turn up with medicine. Tony'll probably even call Dr Strange to see what to do." 

Peter nodded slightly, laying on the bed. "You all thought I was faking..." Peter mumbled, eyes starting to close. Bucky felt a pang of guilt go through him. 

As predicted, Steve came in with a bowl of chicken soup, wearing a new puke-free shirt. They had to force Peter to eat it, then dealt with him vomiting it back up into the bucket. Bruce came in next, holding an assortment of medicines that were especially for Peter, with the right concentrations to work since he had a fast metabolism. 

Tony came in last, talking to Dr Strange on the phone, wondering what on earth to do. 

"Stark I'm a surgeon, not that kind of doctor." 

"Yes but to become a surgeon don't you need to study all of this stuff as well?" 

Dr Strange sighed loudly on the other side of the line. "Get him to sleep, give him medicine and chicken soup or whatever. He'll recover over time. If he gets worse, take him to the doctor."

Tony nodded, then remembered Strange couldn't see him. "Okay," he said. "Thanks for the no help."

He could almost sense Dr Strange rolling his eyes. "Whatever, bye." 

They both hung up, and Tony told them what Dr Strange had told him ('wow, so helpful Tony, he's getting better already') and he left, hoping to not get sick. 

PeterParkour!:

<so now im actually sick

<and i want to die

MJ:

<lol

GuYInTHECHaIR:

<get better soon! 

PeterParkour!:

<This is Steve Rogers, Peter's phone is being taken away so that he can rest. Have a nice day, and please stop texting in class. 

MJ:

<sucks to be him 😂

GuYInTHECHaIR:

<aw sh*t Mr Timothy spotted me texting again

<rip