(^The art work is by @tinymintywolf and their stuff is so cute, so check them out on tumbler. Anyway, on with the reading web-heads 😉)

Peter flopped onto the couch dramatically as soon as he got to the compound. Wanda glanced up from her curled position on the love seat curiously. The movie hadn't been that interesting, anyway.

"How was school, Peter?" She asked, knowing when teenagers wanted attention.

Peter sniffed and rubbed his nose before turning his head to face her with red-rimmed eyes. "It was fine."

"Oh my God," She got up to sit next to him. "What happened?"

He huffed, cuddling into his sweatshirt more. "I think I'm sick."

"Everyone gets sick, Peter," she reminded him playfully.

"Not me! I haven't been sick since I got my powers."

"Um," Wanda pursed her lips. She didn't know much about medical and scientific stuff. "Well...maybe Dr. Banner can help down in the lab."

Peter sniffed again. His nose was starting to run. Wanda grabbed the tissue box off of the coffee table and handed it to the wall crawler gently. Peter took a handful and blew.

"Ugh," he laid down, taking up the entire couch. "I feel like I'm gonna die!"

Wanda raised an eyebrow and let a smile slip onto her face at his theatrics.

"Oh my God!" Peter's eyes widened in horror. "What if I'm gonna die? This would be such a crappy way of dying! Oh God, oh God..."

Wanda stared at him in confusion. Surely he wasn't being serious? She didn't know how to handle this, it was Nat and Steve's job to be the mothers for Peter. She was about to call for Vision's help when her saving grace walked through the front door, chatting on the phone. Tony's voice trailed off when he saw Peter practically sobbing on the couch with his head under a pillow.

"I'm going to have to call you back," he told whoever was on the other side quickly and hung up the phone.

"What happened?" Tony asked Wanda as he sat next to Peter and rubbed circles on his back. Happy trailed behind, holding the billionaire's suit jacket.

Wanda sighed. "Peter has a cold."

"No, I'm dying!" Peter turned and buried his face in Tony's chest. "I'm gonna die!"

Tony wrapped his arms around the boy and shared a look with Happy and Wanda. "Well, you lived a good life, right?"

"I'm fifteen!" Peter cried.

"He said good, not long," Happy said, voice devoid of all emotion.

Peter groaned.

Scott appeared in the doorway that lead to one of many hallways, curious expression on his face. "What's going on?"

"Peter's dying from a cold," Wanda supplied.

"Uh, jeez," (a/n Is it spelled jeez or geez?) he chuckled. "That sounds serious."

"It is," the teenager complained without bothering to look up.

"Do you want hot chocolate or something?" Scott shrugged. Tony shot him a look. "What? It works for Cassie!"

"Can you make me some?" Peter pleaded to the immature hero.

Scott looked mildly surprised that his offer had been accepted. He shouldn't have been, it was the middle of winter, after all. "Sure kid."

Lang walked off, presumably towards the kitchen to warm up some water. Happy only rolled his eyes and announced that he was leaving. No one really paid him any attention. Tony tried to get Peter to get up, but the web slinger only ignored him. Eventually Tony got tired and instead scooped up the light boy bridal style and carried him down to the teenager's room. Wanda shook her head at the pair and settled down to finish her show.

Tony set Peter down in the bed and ordered him to take a nap or something while he went to find Dr. Banner. Unsurprisingly, the gamma scientist was in his personal lab, working on something or another. Currently he was typing away in his lap top. When he saw Tony approach, the Doctor hurriedly closed the computer screen and stood.

"What's up?" He asked, knowing Tony wanted something.

"Can't I just say hello?" Tony joked.

Bruce wasn't buying it. "No."

Tony sighed dramatically through his nose. "Fine. Peter's sick."

Bruce frowned. "I thought he couldn't get sick because of his mutated immune system."

"Which is why I came to you, science bro!"

Bruce gave him a blank look and headed up to the main floor. "I'm not that kind of doctor, Tony. Maybe we should call Strange."

"That guy's a surgeon," Tony snorted, following. "He's not going to know how to fix Pete's super-cold."

"Well I won't be able to figure it out either! In fact, Peter would probably have a better chance than me seeing as he's a biological whiz-kid."

The two scientists reached the kitchen to find Scott pouring some hot water into a mug. Sam was eating a sandwich at four o'clock and Hope was taking her own hot chocolate from Scott.

"Bruce, Pete thinks he's dying right now," Tony sat at the bar, motioning for the doctor to do the same. "I don't think he's in the condition to figure out how to kill a virus powerful enough to make him sick."

"Why don't we just treat it like a normal cold? That's probably what it is," Hope offered, opening the medicine cabinet and pulling out a few bottles of pills.

"I..." Tony started, but the sentence deflated when he realized she was right.

She tried not to let her smirk show, but sort of failed. "Come on, Scott."

She sashayed out of the room, holding the bottles and her mug of chocolate.

Tony and Sam stared at her boyfriend. "How do you deal with that?"

He shrugged in response to Tony's question. "Magic."

Then he followed the Wasp juggling two mugs of hot chocolate and an amused expression on his face. Sam shook his head in wonder.

"Maybe he really is magic."

Tony and Bruce looked at each other skeptically. Then they shook their heads. "Nah."

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Peter sat curled up uncomfortably on his bed. His sickness had only gotten worse. Maybe it would have been able to be passed off as a cold a few hours ago when he started sneezing at lunch, but not anymore. Peter was shivering in his sweat shirt and scarf, trying to melt into them. He was freezing, but sweating at the same time. His last meal rose up in his throat, but he pushed it down long enough to stagger to the bathroom.

Leaning over the toilet, he lost the days food, leaving his stomach empty. He tried to spit the acidic taste out of his mouth, but it stubbornly stayed put. So he took a cup from the bathroom sink and filled it with water, splashing his face at the same time.

There was a knock on the door and none other than the resident mother was on the other side.

"Hey, Peter," Steve asked softly, pushing the bathroom door open to reveal the teenager kneeling over the toilet.

Steve winced at the way he looked. Peter was noticeably paler and trembling, sweat shirt soaked with sweat. His eyes and nose were a dark shade of pink. Steve dropped down beside him and wrapped an arm around the boy's shoulders. Peter leaned into him tiredly, eyelids drooping.

Steve helped wipe his face off and lifted him out of the bathroom and over to his bed. Peter was dimly embarrassed by how much he had been carried in just an hour, but didn't fight back. He was already half asleep. Steve took his sweat shirt off, leaving the boy with a sweaty T-shirt in an attempt to cool the wall crawler down.

Just a few minutes after he had fallen asleep, the buggie duo, Hope and Scott came through the doorway to see a heavily breathing, unconscious Peter and a worried looking super soldier on the edge of the bed.

Steve noticed their entrance and looked over with a concerned expression.

"I don't think he's okay."

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That's because he's not. MWAHAHAHA! I'll give you guys a hint: the virus he has isn't an accident...
Anyway, comments questions criticism blah blah blah. Tell me anything.
Thank you for still reading this!
Later, web-heads😉

-Wanda