TW: cancer + medical whump
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"Mr. Stark? I think something's wrong." Peter spoke softly.
It really came out of nowhere. They were having lab day when Peter began speaking over the music. His voice was barely audible under the loud rock, but once he began talking, Friday lowered the blasting sound.
"Like what?" He asked, not looking up from his work, believing Peter was talking about some wiring issue on his own project or something.
"I've- I haven't been feeling very well lately," Peter said nervously, staring over at the man, "but me and May can't really afford to go to the doctor."
Peter felt beyond ashamed and embarrassed that he needed to ask his mentor for money to see a doctor, not because he was ashamed of their status or income, but because he felt like a burden for being sick so often lately. He just wanted to feel better
It seemed like every couple of weeks, Peter was springing up with a new illness or infection of some kind. He currently was feeling like he had the pneumonia again, it'd only been a month or so since he had last had it. Stuffy nose, cough, and a rough ache in his chest that begged him to go home. Really, he'd felt like he'd had the flu for months now. His joints always hurt, he was always waking up in a cold sweat, shivering uncontrollably. He had lost a significant amount of weight (enough that gossip magazines were popping up about Spiderman's new skinny figure) and was exhausted all the time. He kept getting random nosebleeds and his asthma seemed to be back from before the bite.
Tony set his stuff down to look up, "yeah, Happy sent me a couple of your post patrol texts saying you'd thrown up or passed out or something yesterday saying he was concerned. You've been sick a lot lately."
Peter just nodded silently, feeling the new familiar shiver of a fever as time ticked on, "I think I'm sick again." He said, leaning forward in his chair and coughing.
Tony frowned and rolled his chair over to Peter, placing the back of his hand on his forehead, "yeah, you feel like you have a fever."
"Mr. Stark, we can't afford more trips the doctor, I don't know what to do." He said, tears embarrassingly bubbling over the edges of his eyelids as the fatigue took over and he began to sob. He couldn't stop it anymore.
Tony didn't hesitate to pull Peter into a hug as he cried, "I'll pay, bud. Don't worry, okay? I'll pay. Let's figure out what's going on and how to keep you healthy."
Peter pulled away into a tight coughing fit, holding his chest with a clawed hand, the other hand on his knee supporting him forward. After the coughs lessened, the wheezing intensified. He tried to stay calm, he really did, but he couldn't breathe.
Mr. Stark called an ambulance and carried Peter into the elevator, handing him off to paramedics on a stretcher.
He held the boy's hand the whole time.
Apparently, it took a genius billionaire playboy philanthropist to get the doctors to finally listen to Peter and May's pleas for help. At last, they did blood work and scans and MRIs to try to understand what was going on. To understand why Peter was sick all the time, to know why he'd been so tired, how to fix it.
Tony was ready to pay the price for whatever medicine it took to get his kid feeling better. Back to being himself.
He didn't expect the medicine to be chemotherapy.
Peter. His Peter had leukemia.
Everyone cried. Yes, even Tony. He didn't think he would but when the doctor continued on saying it was nearly stage 4 and they needed to start treatment as soon as possible, a couple tears escaped over his cheeks. He hugged Peter tight. He was thin. So thin; he let another tear dribble down his chin as he tore himself apart for not catching this sooner. At not noticing that cancer was developing in someone so dear to him without a single clue.
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.
It was the second round of chemo now. Most of Peter's hair was gone and he was wearing a beanie. He felt nauseous and weak and he wanted out of this stupid hospital room. He hated it. He hated the white walls and the smell of saline. He hated how clean and sterile it was. He hated the nurses checking in on him every few hours. He hated the IV that chained him to the hospital. He hated it so much. He could barely see his aunt because she dealt with so many sick people everyday. He spent a lot of time with Tony, who brought little engineering projects for him to work on, but most of the time he was too tired to tinker.
Most of the time he just laid there watching a movie or sleeping.
The first time Peter snuck out was after his second round of chemo. It was the middle of the night and he had his suit under his bed. He unhooked his IV and slid it on. He hated the way he looked in it, but knew if he could just go do some good for other people that he might feel a bit better himself.
He stopped a few bike robberies and a couple of carjackings, one attempted ATM robbery, and helped an old lady get home safe. By the end of it, he was so utterly exhausted he thought he might pass out. He swung back to the hospital and rehooked his IV before anyone even noticed he was gone. Mentally, he finally felt a bit better. He could finally sleep peacefully.
The next morning he woke up pretty late (other than the nurses coming in and out to change his IV, take his vitals, etc.) and actually asked to eat breakfast, which he had been managing to skip more and more lately.
He had a whole plate of eggs and some cereal as well as a whole glass of apple juice. He kept it all down too. Tony was there with him, smiling as he laid down to take a nap.
Then worried as he saw the glove of the costume sloppily sticking out under the mattress.
From that day on, Tony didn't miss Peter sneaking out once, whether he was helping out at the hospital or staying with Peter in his apartment, Tony always cought it. It was about once a week he would go out and do some Spidermanning, yet, Tony didn't have the heart to stop him. He knew it wasn't safe, but he also knew every single modification he'd put in that suit that had his mentee breathing filtered air, not letting his hands touch anything dirty. Plus, Peter was eating and drinking and he looked alive again, like he was actually getting better! How could Tony ever put a wrench in that?
He should have, though.
Peter still got sick.
Really sick.
Tony could have stopped it, but the guilt of not keeping his kid safe, of lying to himself about the real dangers of what Peter was doing might have made his nightmare a reality. The nightmare he promised to prevent, was now writing itself into reality. It was too late to stop it.
Peter "woke up" one morning wheezing. They went straight to the hospital. Almost immediately a nurse had an oxygen mask over his face and another nurse was taking his temp. Peter made guilty eye contact with Tony, who was staring with informed worry at the situation.
"I'm sorry." Peter mouthed, his eyes tearing up. He wrapped his arms in front of his chest shamefully and broke the eye contact.
He erupted into a harsh coughing fit, and even with the oxygen, it just didn't seem to stop. The nurses were running around now, taking note of the boy's suddenly pale complexion, trying to figure out where the illness had come from. However, Peter didn't have an ounce of regret. Without him there, people could have been hurt. Really hurt.
But now, he was hurting. He was dying. He knew that, and he didn't want to fight it anymore. Without really speaking about it, he was giving up. He knew his cancer wasn't responding well to chemo. He wasn't responding well to chemo.
He wanted it to be over.
He was ready.
Unfortunately, he was stuck in a room with a man who knew the look of giving up all too well. He had been there, dying of palladium poisoning, thinking he was ready to die.
Tony Stark was not going to let his nightmare become reality.
When the nurses were finally out of the room and he had several new tests scheduled to figure out what infection he now had, Tony moved next to him.
"I know you've been sneaking out." Tony whispered, "Peter, you are not going to die."
Peter just shook his head, "Mr. Stark I don't want to fight anymore I'm exhausted."
"No, that wasn't meant to be comforting. I will not let you die, not on my watch. I'm not letting you do that to your aunt, I'm not letting you do that to yourself, I'm not letting you do that. Okay? I thought I was ready to die too. You're never ready, understand that, Peter? You aren't ready. You have to keep fighting." Tony said intensely.
Peter just stared at his mentor, "Mr. Stark, I can't keep doing this." He whispered, his voice shaky and unstable.
"Yes, you can. Look at how far you've come. You have so so much farther to go, Peter. Don't let this be it. Don't give up. You've got so much left to fight for." Tony said, reaching out and squeezing the boy's non-IV'd hand.
Then Peter began to cry. Really cry.
"It's so hard, Mr. Stark." He sobbed.
Tony knew he would get yelled at for potentially contaminating the kid with cancer, but he also knew he was germ free. He pulled the boy into a hug. He really needed it, and he added it onto his list of times he had broken the rules.
Later that week, after he'd gone home, Peter still wasn't any better. He had pneumonia again, probably a result of smog from being back out in public and his horridly weak immune system. (Chemo didn't only kill the cancer cells, it killed the helpful ones too.) They didn't know that he'd been out, however.
His hacking and coughing continued long through the night. He didn't seem to sleep. He didn't seem to eat. He wasn't getting better. He could barely breathe without the oxygen mask.
Tony had been up with him every single night, both of them were beyond exhausted. May was here now too, by the side of her nephew every moment he was awake.
But this night in particular, they were both out cold when Peter silently woke up. He still felt like shit. He felt awful.
He was scared that this would be his last day. That's how bad he felt. So, he did the only rational thing he could think of for someone who was dying.
He took off his oxygen mask, unhooked his IV, and slid on his suit. Then he was out the window.
Being SpiderMan made him feel free again. Though he felt physically horrible, he felt mentally alright. He stopped a bike robbery and a car jacking. He was helping an older man home when he everything went wrong.
He passed out right on the sidewalk, wheezing and wheezing.
The older man managed to kneel down and take off the boy's mask, trying to let him get in a better breath. Instead of a strong healthy man, he found a weak, bald, wheezing teenager. He called 911 right away.
And somehow, with the ambulance, the press followed. The press and a crowd. Peter wasn't conscious for any of it. He was put on a ventilator and a feeding tube and put in the ICU. Tony was frustrated and sad and angry and scared all at once and when Peter woke up, he wasn't there. He was sat on the floor of the private bathroom elsewhere on the floor with his head between his knees, sobbing.
He'd been so strong for all this, but now it was all falling apart. His nightmare was coming true. He hated the way he saw himself in the kid. Completely self destructive to the very end.
He didn't want Peter to die. He was so terrified of losing him, so terrified any second he spent in that bathroom would be the boy's last breath. His last living moment. He was scared he'd miss it, but that fear also kept him from going back. Nothing made sense.
Eventually someone came knocking at the single use bathroom and he had to try to pull together his sniffling and sobbing to let the person on the other side in. He opened the door and found May there waiting for him, her face also tear stained, "he's okay, Tony. He's gonna be okay."
"I'm sorry." He choked, "I knew- I knew he was sneaking out but I thought- his suit is so safe I just- he started eating again after he went out and I just-"
"Tony, it's fine." She pleaded, trying to get him to stop apologizing for two seconds so she could finally pull him into a much needed hug. He sobbed into her shoulder. He didn't understand how one woman could be so strong when he could barely hold himself together. Soon enough, they were walking back to Peter's room.
He was barely conscious, on a ventilator. The press was crowding outside the hospital, slowly thinning after being repeatedly denied enterance. Everyone wanted to get another glimpse of SpiderMan: the kid with cancer.
Peter barely knew what had happened when he woke up. All he knew is one minute he had been spiderman and he hadn't been able to breath and now it was so much easier. He didn't even have to do anything, finally breathing wasn't so laborious anymore. Despite the crowded feeling in his chest, he felt a bit better. Even up to eating, not that he could with all the tubes down his throat.
He dazily looked around the room, trying to find someone familiar. A minute later May and Tony came hobbling back in together, both of them red faced and puffy eyed.
Peter's eyes dragged over to them. His body was working through the medicine fast and the pain was beginning to come back again. He could really feel the tubes in his chest now. It hurt. It hurt. His eyes swelled up with tears.
Tony grabbed his hand, "it's ok kid, let the machine breathe for you. Don't fight it."
Peter looked ready to pass out again, and just as he seemed he was about to give up, a doctor came bursting into the room, dragging a very confused man behind him.
"Peter Parker, or SpiderMan. We need to know everything." The doctor said. Tony's view of the man was still hidden behind the multitude of machines hooked to Peter's body.
"Pete?" The other man asked.
Immediately, Tony was up out of his seat. He knew that voice. He knew that radiation expert, an expert because he himself had been affected by it.
"Bruce. Banner." Tony said, his voice almost joyous. They sort of looked at eachother in shock before moving towards eachother and sharing a quick embrace.
"Cancer?"
"Leukemia."
"I have theories on why he's suffering but not getting any better. Can I run a couple of blood tests to take to my personal lab?" Bruce asked.
Peter looked past them blankly. Tony nodded for him and Bruce and the doctor with him began preparing. Tony was still holding his hand. Peter, with shaking fingers, wrote out a word on Tony's palm.
O. W.
"Ow?" Tony asked, his brows furrowing, "does it hurt?"
The machine forced the boy to inhale again as he made an unsteady thumbs up to signal that he was right.
"Doc, now that his identities out, we've gotta talk. This kid has insane metabolism, he got bit by a radioactive spider and it transformed him from a weak little nerd to an epic nerd." Tony started, only pausing when Peter weakly hit him at being called a nerd, Tony smiled and continued, "he's super strong, he can stick to walls, you know the story. He's got shitty temperature regulation abilities and a crazy fast metabolism, which could very much be affecting the impact of pain med dosages right now."
Peter thumbs upped again to notion that he was still in pain and that Tony was probably right.
"Or a lot of other treatments too." The doctor said, immediately administering another dose of medicine, "look, Im restarting your IV drip, okay? Mr. Stark is gonna set a timer, whenever the pain goes away, tap him and he will press start, whenever the pain starts again tap him and he will stop the timer and call me. Got it?"
Peter thumbed up, Tony nodded and 2 minutes later the pain stopped. 30 minutes later it started again. The dose was meant to last three hours and suddenly the doctor understood why Peter may not have been getting better.
With the adjusted pain meds and tube nutrition, he was healing up quick. Bruce came back with the blood tests and posed a potential altered treatment plan. A different take on chemo that would interfere differently with the radiation from the spider that had already affected Peter's body instead of just adding more harmful affects on (as it seemed according to his personal lab tests).
And by God, it started to work.
Peter still felt like shit through every round of radiation, maybe even more than before, but the cancer started to dissapait. The symptoms weren't only external, change was really being made.
Tony's nightmare was reversing.
And just like he prayed, it never saw the light of day.
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Girl don't come at me idk how any of this works I am not editing this if it makes 0 sense womp womp