spiderman angst/sickfic oneshots

nightmare become reality (irondad)

     Chemo was hard. It was so so difficult. Peter's body didn't take well to it at all. They talked in private about how the Spider bite could have made things this way, maybe even caused the cancer. There was no history of leukemia in the Parker family. He had blood cancer suspiciously close to the time a radioactive spider bit him and drastically changed the composition of his body. Now, cancer was changing it back.

Peter was barely up for even talking, which was concerning considering what a nerdy chatterbox he tended to be, always rambling on about something or other. Now, all that was gone. No more babbling, no more wise excitement in his eyes at a new project or distant calculations for some intuitive idea regarding future suit mods. After and between chemo treatments, all he ever wanted to do was sleep. He was exhausted all the time. Exhausted and nauseous.

Tony would have argued the worst parts of chemo were when Peter was feeling sick or when he would get sick. He was always silent, a blank grimace on his face. He would sit with the nausea, because what other choice did he have? Tony hated that he couldn't do anything to help Peter keep down the little food he wanted to eat.

Once, when May was at home taking a shower, Tony was staying with Peter when he spoke up.

"When is it going to be over?" He asked weakly, holding his stomach. He currently had a sinus infection and was one week post first chemo treatment. He felt sick to his stomach.

Tony brought him a bag to hold and Peter wanted to shove it away in anger. He hated this. He hated feeling nauseous. He hated not wanting to eat ever. He hated that his hair was beginning to thin out. He hated that people were always sad for him. He hated the pity flowers the pity cards the pity tears the pity everything. He wanted this to be done, things to be normal again.

He suddenly vomited into the bag.

"I don't know, bud." Tony said, knowing this was all too normal of a routine for him now, "I hope soon. Hopefully chemo gets easier the more you get used to it."

"I feel like shit." Peter spat, frustration vivid in his drained demeaner. Leaning back, still holding the bag, he started crying. Angry tears racing down his face and dripping onto his thin hospital gown.

Tony climbed up to the hospital bed with him, fully showered and healthy as to keep Peter safe from further infection, took the bag and threw it away, and pulled the kid onto his lap, hugging him over the cold paper scrubs he had to wear.

"I want it to be over." Peter sobbed, "I don't want to be in pain anymore." His head was rested tensely on the man's shoulder, "I feel so sick all the time. I never want to eat- I used to eat all the time Mr. Stark. I feel so weak." He sobbed.

Tony just hugged the boy close, rubbing his back. The way Peter's ribs each protruded out individually did not go unnoticed.

That moment was the first time Mr. Stark had any thoughts about Peter not making it through this alive. About Peter not beating cancer. About Peter dying.

It took the man's breath away in the worst way possible, sucked the air out of his lungs as he realized the pure direness of the situation. Peter wasn't getting better. He wasn't eating or sleeping well. How could he beat this if he could barely hold onto the things he needed to live a normal life?

The idea of Peter dying was Tony's worst nightmare. He vowed to do anything it took to prevent another death on his hands.

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"Peter, you need to eat." May said frustratedly, holding out a bowl of soup. Peter just kept shaking his head, "I'm not hungry"

Tony sat in the corner of the room. He didn't know what to do. His kid wouldn't eat.