Out Came a Stark

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After a couple of minutes, there came a point where nothing more was left in Peter's stomach to bring up. The boy wheezed, heaving emptily, while choked sobs emerged.
He was grateful for the supportive hand on his back; without it, the hero felt like the situation would've been much worse lest he be alone.
The teenager's brain was mush for the time being. He couldn't even register just who his benefactor was at first. At least, not until he was falling in his side...

The Iron Avenger himself.

"Woah, woah, woah, woah woah! Easy there, Tiger." The billionaire caught and cradled the underage student in his arms in a fatherly fashion. "Easy..." At first his voice was sarcastic and firm, but within seconds of looking at Peter, the tone melted to pure concern and gentleness. A side of Tony that barely ever showed.
The older male softly pressed a hand to his apprentice's forehead, keeping it there for a moment to register the radiating heat.

Tony couldn't even be mad with the kid right now for his reckless actions. His condition was far too poor.
"Can you walk?"

Peter blinked, his gaze vacant. He only a few seconds later took the question in his mind, trembling as he forced himself to sit up. The edges of his vision were hazier than ever before, not to mention that the room was spinning as fast as a small child would spin a toy globe. "Ngh....."

"I'll take that as a no."
The businessman lifted Peter up with a mild amount of effort. It probably meant it was about time do him to hit the gym again, since Peter was so skinny and light. But now most certainly was NOT the time to be thinking about such a random thing.

"M-Mister Stark...I..."

"Cool it, kid. Not another word. Jarvis? Vitals please."

There was silence for a moment, before the machine whirled in response.
"I'm afraid Mister Parker will soon be suffering from malnutrition if he cannot keep down some substance. May I suggest a hospital?"

"Not yet. Get Banner on the phone."

Peter looked up at the older hero with a guilty expression on his pale face. Soon enough, he found himself lying down back in the bed he had jumped out of earlier. He had so much more to say, but nothing else would emerge from his chapped lips. His eyes watered, turning red due to his illness, as well as a certain sadness.
"I'm....sorry..."

Tony paused, looking down at the boy. He bit his tongue, resisting going on a rant about how worried he was, and that he was probably going to have another panic attack sometime soon because of this.
Suddenly, the earpiece inside the avenger's ear rung out with a familiar voice.
"Hey Tony. What's up? I'm-"

"No time for pleasantries, Bruce. Parker is with me in the tower and he looks like death, just please get your ass over here or tell me what to do-"
He stopped for air, having spoken so quickly. But somehow, the conflicted man on the other side of the line was able to hear every word of it, and was already telling his comrade to calm down and take deep breaths before explaining the situation.

Peter felt so dumb for doing this. He wasn't thinking about those who cared about him, rather putting his hero duties above everything.
It wasn't easy juggling his lives. But was he not ready? Was he not responsible enough to be in the suit? Was Uncle Ben wrong?
The sheer amount of self-questioning made him fall asleep again. The last thing he heard was Tony's wavering, quivering voice, which made it much worse....

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