Peter Parker... Stark?

Infection

"PARKER!"

Peter jerked awake, blinking the sleep away as best he could as he struggled to focus on Ms. Walters. She was standing over his bed with her hands on her hips.

"Half an hour until school starts, or are you too good for that now too?"

"Wha?" Peter asked drowsily. Ms. Walters' frown deepened as she extended a chubby hand and felt his forehead.

"I guess you're in no shape to go anywhere today," she admitted begrudgingly as she wiped her hand off, "not with a fever like that."

With a loaded glare, she left the room and shut the door behind her. Peter waited to make sure she was gone before removing the covers and lifting his shirt to check on his burns. Parts of the cloth had stuck to the burns overnight, and he barely held back a scream as he peeled it off.

They were infected.

Peter pulled the ointment out from under his bed and began applying it. Before long he couldn't hide his whimpers of pain as he massaged the oil into his burns. Tears were rolling down his cheeks.

Suddenly the doorknob turned. In a moment of panic, Peter shoved the ointment under the bed and pulled the blankets back up, hoping he looked asleep. The door opened to reveal Lincoln.

He came in the room and closed the door behind him before running over to Peter's bed and climbing on top.

"Peter, guess what!" he whispered.

Confused, and trying to hide the pain Lincoln was causing by climbing on top of him, Peter managed to choke out, "What?"

The excited little boy leaned closer. "I know who Spider-Man is!"

Peter's heart skipped a beat. "You do?"

"Yeah! Tanner is Spider-Man, Peter! We live with Spider-Man!"

Peter blinked. "Tanner? You think Tanner is Spider-Man?"

"I saw him swing out this window last night when I woke up to get a drink, and when I checked in here he wasn't in his bed and you were in the bathroom," Lincoln asserted.

"Oh, uh, yeah, I was," Peter stammered.

Suddenly, Ms. Walters' voice carried up the stairs. Both boys' eyes widened in fright.

"Go Lincoln! If she catches you in here with me while I'm sick, we're both going to get in huge trouble!"

With a giggle, Lincoln slid off the edge of the bed and scampered out of the room. "Bye Peter!" he whisper-yelled before shutting the bedroom door.

"Lincoln, there you are! There are some people here to see you again, honey!" Peter blinked back tears as he recalled yesterday's dramatic events.

He hated that Ms. Walters was determined to make his life miserable. He hated that Ironman was after him, especially since he'd spent time with Tony that same day and felt like maybe they were friends. He hated that he couldn't go to the hospital, both because he was poor and because he couldn't risk his secret identity.

Peter angrily smeared more ointment on his burns, trying to pretend he was fine, everything was fine.

But it didn't work very well.

~~~

"We need a better strategy," Rhodey said as he joined Tony in the conference room. "Spider-Man is aware you're after him now, so of course he's going to make it extra hard to find him."

Tony nodded, swallowing the remaining alcohol in his glass. Rhodey rolled his eyes and took the glass away, and it took Tony a moment to realize what had just happened.

"Hey, that's not yours," he cried, trying to take it back.

"Sorry," Rhodey said unsympathetically, holding the glass out of reach, "but I need to talk to sober Tony right now."

Tony stuck his bottom lip out in a pout. "Well you're no fun."

"Tony."

Tony slammed his hand down on the table. "I'm sorry Rhodey," he spat, "but right now Pajamas is the least of my concerns. I'm more worried about the fact that the Rogues are going to be back in a few days, and I don't know what to do. I--" Tony stopped mid-sentence, putting his face in his hands.

Rhodey sighed. "I get, Tones. You're stressed." He moved towards the door, but paused and examined the glass in his hand before leaving. "But I still prefer sober Tony. I'm taking this with me."

~~~

When Peter woke up again, he found a tray of cold food on the floor by his bed. His watch said it was 2:00 pm. Peter eyed the questionable looking soup, wondering if it was even safe to eat. In the end, he picked up the bowl and slurped it down as fast as he could, trying to ignore the slimy texture.

A couple hours later, after another nap, Peter lifted his shirt to inspect his burns again. The soup had helped with his healing--it looked like the infection was finally subsiding. Peter breathed a sigh of relief, spread more ointment on the burns, and fell asleep once more.