Irondad Oneshots

Sick Day - Spideypool

xXMuneLitSwordXx

To say Peter hadn't been feeling well is an understatement. He shouldn't have tried to go on patrol as he has and he definitely shouldn't have attended his University classes for the day, but heroes don't get sick. Obviously, this is a fluke. He can't get sick. It's crazy. 

He covers his mouth with his elbow as he sneezes again, ignoring the glares he gets from other students sitting around him. The last thing a student wants is to be getting sick during important times during a semester. Our midterms are coming up and nobody wants to risk missing classes. 

His head is starting to spin with a pounding headache thanks to whatever cold he must've picked up from taking the bus twice a day. He still lives at the tower for convenience purposes, going to University classes during the day, dinner at the tower, patrol and then he either spend the night at the tower or with his boyfriend, Wade. He's an adult, a whole eighteen years old, but he still has to check in if he's not coming home after patrol. Tony worries a lot more than he should be for someone with a heart condition. 

Shaking his head, he forces himself to focus back on what he's doing. It's hard considering his hands are beginning to shake with the effort of holding onto his pen, and his ears are ringing too much to understand the professor who's speaking in a monotone voice about biochemical engineering. 

His phone lights up on his desk with a text from Wade.

Wade: It's almost your lunch break. You wanna hang? 

Peter: Your place?

Wade: I've still got some of that gross pizza you like and we can continue binging friends?

Peter: sounds like a plan. Pick me up?

Wade: always do.

Peter puts his phone back down, trying to continue to write his note, but he can barely remember what the teacher's been droning on about. Something about human anatomy, but Peter's not sure. He's never been great with biology, always preferred chemistry and physics. 

After a few moments of debating with himself, he pulls off his sweatshirt because of how hot he's suddenly feeling, resting his forehead against the cool surface of the desk. 

"Hey, you don't look so good. Are you going to throw up?" the girl sitting beside him asks, a worried expression painting her features. 

Peter shakes his head once in response. He doesn't remember too well, but he doesn't think he ate breakfast before school. He told his dad he was going to buy something from the caf before he went to class, but he was running late. With his metabolism, there's no way he'd have anything to throw up.

"You're looking really pale," the girl continues, eyes wide as she scribbles something else in her notebook.

Peter decides to tune her out, for the time being, focusing on trying not to let his headache worsen. Normally, headaches lead to sensory overloads and that's the last thing he needs right now. 

His watch beeps twice. A message that his vitals are off. He's not surprised, but he's gotta get it under control unless he wants his dad notified of what's going on. 

The minutes pass slowly and in a blur, unable to retain any information thrown his direction. Finally, the class is dismissed. 

Right before leaving, he asks the girl from earlier if he could have a copy of her notes because let's be real, he's not about to let his grades drop because of some illness.

He finally is able to stumble out to the parking lot to wait for Wade to show up, basking in the fresh air. 

As the minutes pass, he starts to feel worse and worse. The cool breeze is doing nothing to help the burning of his skin, his back muscles are aching, his face hurts, his right eye won't stop watering, and his sneezing is becoming frequent.