Work Text:
1.
"Mr. Stark?" Peter asks, interrupting the low hum of music playing in the background of the lab. Tony is working on a older model of an Iron Man gauntlet; rewiring it and reprogramming it. Peter sits next to him, working on his algebra homework.
Tony hums a sound of acknowledgement, a pencil tucked behind his ear.
"Can you pass me that eraser?" Peter asks, gesturing to the pink eraser that sits on the billionaire's left.
Tony glances at it. "Yeah." He says, dropping his tools. He tosses the eraser in Peter's direction, knowing that he'll catch it.
"Thanks." Peter mumbles as he starts erasing part of a long answer question.
"Everything alright?" Tony asks, glancing at him.
Peter nods, "Yeah, just messed up some calculations." He mutters. They both continue working.
It isn't until Peter is double checking his answer that he feels it. The familiar feeling of dissociation, his eyes unfocusing and refocusing, pulsing as he stares at the spare parts scattered across the work bench. He knows what follows. After all, he's experienced this feeling ten to twenty times a day for nearly a year.
First his hands fall slack, making him drop his pencil onto the table. His eyelids become heavy, but he tries to keep them open. He wills himself to stay awake, trying his hardest to fight this off. He's really not in the mood to pass out right now. Maybe if he can suppress it, he thinks, it'll just go away. But then, just as he thinks the pulling at the back of his mind is passed, he begins slouching. Then his vision goes black and he slips into unconsciousness.
Tony is quick to realize that Peter has fainted, since now Peter is resting on his shoulder. He stops working on his project in favour of supporting the back of Peter's head.
With the amount of time the two spend together, Tony's practically a professional when it comes to taking care of Peter while he's no longer conscious, and taking care of Peter in general.
In the beginning, he had no idea what he was supposed to do it how he was supposed to help. The first time Peter fainted, Tony didn't know about the condition. The kid just collapsed on the couch one afternoon. Tony was, understandably, horrified. He thought something was dangerously wrong and ended up frantically checking Peter for wounds while asking FRIDAY for any help she could give. When Peter woke up again, he told Tony everything. He explained what to do when the faints happened and how to help the situation.
The first few times Tony was awkward and slightly uncomfortable. It felt strange to have to hold a kid he barely knew in his arms until he awakened, like he it wasn't supposed to be his job. But as they got closer, and Tony got better at helping Peter, it became easy. Tony accepted the role with open arms, just as he had to accept Peter's lethargic body every once in a while.
Tony spins on his stool to face Peter, letting the kid fall into him. The back of Peter's head rests comfortably on Tony's chest, rising and falling with the man's steady breaths. Tony uses one of his hands to gather Peter's dangling arms and rests them on the kid's stomach. He uses his other hand to keep Peter's head from slipping.
He reaches for Peter's left arm, and feels around for a pulse. He always does this, just in case. Sometimes Peter wears a FitBit, so he can just look there. It's also helpful to see his blood pressure, since it can usually drop as low as 50 over 30 when he faints.
Some people may think that having to stop whatever you're doing about fifteen times a day would be irritating. But it never bothers Tony. Nothing is more important than making sure Peter is okay. He would spend the whole day cradling Peter's unconscious body if he had to.
After a moment or two, Peter's eyelashes flutter, his eyes rolling around underneath. He begins taking deep breaths through his nose, trying to break out of sleep. Eventually he does, opening his eyes and staring up at Tony.
He blinks. "Hi." He whispers.
"Hi," Tony says back, smiling down at his kid. "You good?"
"Mhm." Peter hums. Tony helps him sit up and get back to his chair. Peter rubs his eyes. He still feels tired; he always does. His eyes usually feel irritated for a little while longer before he feels normal again.
"What were we doing?" He asks, amnesia burying his most recent memories. That's one of the worst things about Peter's condition; the amnesia. Sometimes he'll wake up and forget everything from the past hour, the past day, sometimes even longer. He's never forgotten more than a week, but he really doesn't want to beat that record. It can take a frustrating amount of time to remind him of his surroundings.
"You were doing homework, kid." Tony says, getting right back to his own work.
"Oh yeah," Peter mumbles, picking up his pencil to finish the rest of his algebra package. "Thanks."
"Of course."
2.
Peter swivels his chair back and forth slightly, bored out of his mind. He glances at Tony, who looks just as disinterested as he does. They are both currently in a meeting with General Ross and the Rogue Avengers-- well, they aren't necessarily Rogue anymore. They've been living at the Tower with Tony for the past six months, which was the agreement.
With the details of the new accords already ironed out long ago, they're pretty much back on track. Everyone signed them. Well, everyone except for Peter, technically. He legally can't sign until he's no longer a minor. But a guardian can. So Tony, already having partial guardianship, signed for him. Peter will have to sign again though once he turns eighteen though.
The Rogues should be able to leave and live on their own now. A few things just have to be run a few things by Ross first, who is being surprisingly cooperative.
Peter should be ecstatic, as he's never been too fond of the Rogues, but he can't help but want to die on the spot. He's extremely bored, listening to all the terms and rules that he really doesn't want to care about.
He looks across the table at Natasha, who is already looking at him. Peter thinks Natasha is okay. She's nice enough to him, but that doesn't really matter. Peter likes her because she's nice to Tony. Not many of the Rogues went out of their way to be kind to Tony. Sure, they were appreciative and offered basic manners. But they never stuck around in Tony's company for more than fifteen minutes. They never invited him to hang out or started up conversations besides the average 'what's the weather like?'. Maybe they were unsure or assumed it wasn't their place to speak to Tony. Either way, Peter will give them the benefit of the doubt. Natasha did those things though, and for that, she's in Peter's good books.
She looks bored as well, but tries her best to mask it with an blank expression. Peter offers her a small smile and she nods gently at him. Peter glances at Ross, then back at her. He rolls his eyes in reference to the old man. This makes Natasha's lips quirk into a small smirk. She winks at Peter before looking away.
Peter is still looking at her when his eyelids start feeling heavy. Blackness caves in and out as his eyes dance around the objects of the room. They pause on a ring on Wanda's finger. They unfocus, then Peter's arms are tingling with pins and needles.
"Mr. Stark--" He mutters before his eyes roll back and his chin drops abruptly to his chest. Tony reacts quickly, placing his arm in front of Peter's chest so he doesn't bang his head against the solid table and give himself a concussion or a broken nose. All speaking ceases. The attention is on him.
After living together for half a year, the Rogue Avengers have become pretty accustomed to Peter fainting all over the place. They've either watched him pass out, sinking into the couch or maybe resting his head on the kitchen table, or they've had to catch him before he plummets to the ground -- Natasha's had to grab him a couple of times -- but it's still always a bit of a shock when it happens. Ross seems to be the most shocked though, as he's never experienced this before.
Tony ignores the staring and manoeuvres Peter into a more comfortable position; head against his shoulder. He wraps one arm around Peter and looks back at Ross.
"Continue." He says. Ross nods, slightly confused, but continues talking nonetheless.
About three minutes later, Peter's eyes open slowly. He rolls his head into Tony's chest. His brain searches for the fabric of a t-shirt or sweater, but finds a suit jacket instead. The familiarity he has to go off of his the scent of expensive cologne. Then he realized why Tony's wearing a suit and not something casual. He shoots his head up, maybe a little too quickly. He moves away, swaying slightly and blinks. Embarrassment floods to his cheeks. Luckily no one seems to be paying him an mind, which eases his nerves.
He looks at Tony. "Sorry." He mumbles tiredly, quiet enough for only the billionaire to hear.
"You're fine, kid." Tony smiles. He tucks a stray curl behind Peter's ear and continues listening to Ross' rambling. Peter glances across the table at Natasha, who smirks at him. He smiles sheepishly and shrugs.
He can't help it.
3.
"Alright, kid," Tony sighs, tossing the blanket that once covered his lap to the side. "Bedtime." Star Wars credits play on the TV in the dark living room.
"But, Mr. Stark--" Peter whines.
"Nope, don't give me that," Tony says. He stands up and stretches with a small groan. "Let's go."
"Can't we watch just one more movie?" Peter asks hopefully.
"It's almost four o'clock in the morning." Tony deadpans.
"Ple-ase." Peter says, dragging out the vowels.
"No. Children need their sleep." Tony pulls Peter's blanket away, making the kid gasp dramatically.
"What the hell, Mr. Stark?" He says, curling up into a ball. "What do you not understand about 'lack of thermoregulation'," He asks. "Lack of. That means I don't have any."
"Don't be a brat." Tony says tiredly, although his words hold no real heat. He balls up the blanket and throws it at Peter's face, making him sputter out a muffled 'hey!'. Tony begins walking away anyway, knowing that Peter will immediately follow.
"I'm coming! I'm coming!" Peter says as he scurries over to Tony's side. Tony extends his arm, mumbling a quiet 'after you' as they walk down the hallway. Peter takes a few steps before he notices the fog in his brain.
"Uh-oh." He mumbles, vision blacking out and knees buckling. He's out in seconds.
"Oh, shit." Tony says when Peter falls to the ground. He hooks his hands underneath Peter's arms and stands him up. He can tell that Peter is going to be out longer than normal by how quickly he fainted, and decides to sit down for both their benefit.
Tony lowers himself against the wall slowly, bringing Peter down with him. Once he's sitting, legs extended, he lets Peter's limp frame rest against his chest. He loosely wraps his arms around Peter's waist and feels his wrist for a pulse.
Satisfied when he feels a rhythmic thrumming, Tony let's Peter's arm fall. He sits on the floor, looking at his kid. Peter's head rolls into his collarbone. His lips are parted, somewhat steady breaths escaping them. His eyelashes cast gentle shadows onto his face.
Tony feels bad for Peter. He hates that no doctors have been able to diagnose Peter with something. They've ruled out pretty much every known disease, condition, and illness. If no one knows what he has, no one knows a cure. He wishes he could just figure out the problem. But unfortunately, the medical field isn't his to prance through.
Tony knows how much Peter dislikes the fainting, despite insisting it doesn't bother him. It's mentally and physically exhausting to faint all the time, and the temporary amnesia is irritating. He knows Peter doesn't like being an inconvenience, and even though Tony has told him millions of times that he's not, he knows Peter feels like one when people have to take care of him more than the average teen.
He wishes he could just cure Peter, or take the condition for himself. Peter doesn't deserve the things that come with it. He'll never be able to drive, swim alone, play most sports, or cook without supervision. He rarely goes on patrol alone anymore, as he risks his life every time he does. Even with all the safety protocols Tony's developed, accidents still happen.
He remembers the argument they had about it. Tony and May both told Peter he couldn't patrol alone. He insisted he could suppress the fainting for a couple hours, but they all knew he couldn't. Especially if he was focusing on fighting.
Tony explained to Peter what might happen if he fainted mid-swing with no one there to catch him. Eventually Peter understood and agreed to their terms. Now he would patrol with Tony, or sometimes another trusted Avenger. He didn't particularly mind now. But in the beginning he didn't like it.
Had Peter been diagnosed, they never would've had to make the rules. But alas, Peter is still in the dark. And Tony hates it.
He sighs and presses a kiss to the top of Peter's head, resting his chin there. He pulls the kid closer to him and closes his eyes. He waits patiently for Peter to wake up. And when he does he immediately groans, tucking further into Tony.
Tony lets it happen, just wrapping his arms tighter around him. It isn't rare for Peter to feel like absolute shit after fainting, he knows that. Sometimes it's just too much for Peter's body to take, especially if he's unconscious for an extended amount of time. He'll wake up with a headache as his senses start up again. Sometimes all the lights and noise are too much for for his brain, which is already working hard to figure out what's going on. The nausea the settles in Peter's stomach is just as horrible.
"Are you okay?" Tony whispers into Peter's hair. Peter curls into a ball and rests his head on Tony's chest.
"No," He mumbles, sniffing. He's struggling to keep his eyes open. "I--" He pauses. "I'm going again." He says.
"It's okay." Tony says, pressing another kiss to Peter's head now that he's awake. Peter passes out again seconds later, head falling back into Tony's collarbone. Tony strokes Peter arm soothingly. Peter wakes up again about forty seconds later. He stares at the wall for twenty seconds, eyes distant and glassy, before fainting again.
Tony frowns, realizing that Peter is having a 'fainting episode'. Peter has them every once in a while and they're always extremely unpleasant. The episodes cause him to faint multiple times, one after the other. He once fainted an upwards of seven times before finally being able to keep his eyes open.
Tony holds him the whole time, checking his pulse periodically. When Peter's head lifts for the fifth time and doesn't drop again ten seconds later, Tony let's out a small breath of relief. Sometimes he's worried that one day Peter will faint and he won't wake up. That one day Peter's limp body will stay limp and someone will have to pry it out of Tony's arms because god knows he wouldn't let go.
Peter is awake though, and that's all that matters. Peter's awake.
He stares down the hall, unmoving. Tony isn't sure if he's disassociating or just zoned out.
Tony nudges Peter out of his staring. "You okay?" He asks, hoping he'll get a response.
"Yeah," Peter whispers. He leans his head back against the billionaire, sighing. "I hate this."
"I know, bud," Tony mumbles. He notices the tears rolling down Peter's face and gently wipes them away with his sleeve. "But you're gonna be okay." He says.
Peter squeezes his eyes shut and nods against Tony's chest because he trusts him. If Tony says he'll be okay, then he'll be okay. "Okay." He murmurs.
Tony rests his head against the wall behind him. "I love you, kiddo." He reminds.
"I know," Peter whispers. "I love you too."
4.
Peter taps his foot impatiently as he ascends the tower in the elevator. He had long day at school and can't wait to relax with Tony in the lab. Maybe they'd try to make dinner tonight, instead of ordering takeout like they normally do.
The elevator stops at the penthouse level, just as Peter feels the dissociation start, his eyes shaking out of focus. He shakes his head, but the blur doesn't go away. Instead he can feel his fingers start to lose feeling.
"Shit." He curses, trying to stop his vision from blacking out. The elevator doors open and he immediately stumbles through, not wanting to pass out inside. That's happened before and it was not a fun experience.
Tony is just walking into the lounge when he sees Peter's head start to roll forward. He bolts across the room and steadies the kid before he can fall. Peter groans slightly, eyebrows knitting together.
"I gotcha." Tony says, holding Peter to his chest.
"Sorry." Peter mumbles, then he's falling in Tony's arms, knees buckling. Tony sighs and glances at the couch. He picks Peter up and lays him down gently. He props his head up with a pillow and makes sure he's in a comfortable position on his side.
He kneels down beside the couch and runs his hand through Peter's hair a couple times. He gently lifts the kid's arm to check his FitBit, sighing in relief when he sees that his vitals remain normal--or as normal as they can be when Peter's unconscious.
Tony gets up and lets Peter sleep. He walks into the kitchen to do what he came to: make a snack. He always makes a snack for Peter before he gets home from school. The kid must've been early today.
Tony goes through the fridge, searching for the fruits Peter likes. He picks out some grapes and an assortment of different berries. He grabs a bowl from the cabinet and places it on the marble counter. He takes his time washing the fruits, before placing them in the bowl. He chucks a couple washed grapes in his mouth while he's at it. He knows Peter will want to share, so he doesn't eat too many.
Just as he's packing away the containers, he hears a groan from the couch. He walks over and helps Peter sit up through his disorientation. Peter looks around and smiles when he sees Tony. Then he's looking down at his hands.
"I don't remember anything." He whispers sheepishly.
"You just got back from school. You fainted as soon as you stepped out of the elevator, but I caught you," Tony explains, smiling fondly. "It's Tuesday." He adds when he sees that Peter still looks confused.
Everything seems to click in Peter's mind, because he smiles and nods. "Right." He says.
"I made you a snack." Tony mentions, walking back to the kitchen to finish putting the food away.
"My favourites?" Peter asks hopefully, getting off the couch and following Tony.
"Obviously."
5.
"Boss," FRIDAY interrupts the sizzling of Tony's scrambled eggs. "Peter requests your presence in his bedroom." She states.
"What for?" Tony questions.
"He didn't tell me the reason. Should I ask him?"
"No, no, it's okay," Tony says, taking his skillet off of the element and setting it to the side. "Tell him I'll be there in a second." He mumbles, turning off the stove. The eggs are pretty much done anyways.
He walks through the penthouse, to Peter's bedroom, slightly confused. He doesn't know why Peter wants to see him. Normally he's rushing out the door for school when he stays at the tower. Something about the bed being too comfortable? Tony doesn't remember.
He finds the kid's door closed, so he knocks gently.
"Pete?" He calls.
"Come in." Peter's shaky voice replies. Tony pushes open the door.
"What's up?" He asks, leaning against the door frame. He sees Peter sitting on the bed, crying. He's dressed in his school clothes and his backpack is packed beside him. "What's wrong?" Tony asks, frowning. He walks to Peter and joins him on the bed. Peter immediately falls into his chest, crying. Tony wraps an arm around him and places a kiss to his head.
Neither of the two say anything for a couple minutes. Peter just cries gently, and Tony comforts him. Eventually though, Peter pulls away, rubbing at his eyes.
"What's wrong?"
"Can I stay home today?" Peter asks, eyes pleading.
"You want to stay home?" Tony echoes, brows furrowing. Peter always wants to go to school. He never likes missing it. It always confuses Tony because what kid actually likes school? But Peter usually just insists that he doesn't like missing schoolwork or his friends.
"I think today is going to be a bad day," Peter mumbles quietly. "I've already fainted seven times since I woke up." He frowns.
"Oh, Pete," Tony pulls Peter into a hug. He can feel Peter's breaths on his neck. "I'm sorry." He whispers.
"I know." Peter whispers back, voice shaking. Tony just holds onto him, wishing he get take it all away. He kisses Peter's temple just as he falls completely limp in his arms.
Peter's arms fall from around Tony's neck and his presses into his sternum.
Tony fumbles around Peter's neck, searching for a pulse. When he finds one he physically relaxes. He decides in that moment that Peter can stay home today.
Peter presses his head into Tony's chest harder when he wakes up, dreading the aftereffect of fainting. When he looks up his eyes are hooded and his hair is messy.
"'M sorry." He mutters, slightly incoherently.
"It's okay, kiddo," Tony whispers. "You can stay home." He assures, holding onto Peter tightly.
"Thank you," Peter whispers. The room falls silent. And after a minute or so Peter speaks again. "Are you gonna call my school?"
"Oh, FRIDAY will do it," Tony says. "Let's just stay here." Peter then realizes that Tony's eyes have been closed this whole time. He's been soaking in the moment. Peter smiles gently and hugs the billionaire back.
+1.
"Pete!" Tony calls. "Pizza's here!"
Peter comes bounding down the hallway milliseconds later, a wide grin on his face.
"I love movie night!" He exclaims.
"Yeah, yeah, me too," Tony smiles easily. "But calm down. I don't need you bouncing off the walls." He knows that last bit is an expression for most, but in their case it's a true thing that happens when Peter gets excited.
"Can we watch Frozen 2 first?" Peter asks, standing at the counter and opening the pizza box, the warm scent greeting him.
"Frozen 2?" Tony echoes, Peter nodding. "Alright," He shrugs. "I'm gonna go to the washroom."
"Okay." Peter replies. He's already digging into a slice of pizza. Tony shakes his head fondly and walks to the nearest bathroom.
He is just drying off his hands when he hears Peter shout, then a loud bang. He discards the towel on the floor immediately, rushing out of the bathroom and into the kitchen. He finds Peter on the ground, bleeding from the back of his head.
"Fuck," Tony curses, kneeling on the ground and sitting Peter up gently. He looks at Peter's head, wincing at the blood that streams through his kid's curls. "FRIDAY, you wanna check this out?"
"Sure, boss. Analyzing vitals," FRIDAY's calm voice says. "It appears as though Peter has received a mild concussion from the impact. I don't detect any internal bleeding or severe brain trauma, but I suggest you invite Helen Cho for a check-up," She explains. "I also suggest you check for yourself."
"Thanks, FRI." Tony mumbles. He frowns at the cut on Peter's head. How could he be so careless? He thinks. He would've caught him, had he not left the room. He would've been okay.
"Should I contact Helen Cho?"
"Yeah, go for it." Tony says. He knows he has to get Peter to the medbay, but he decides it would be easier to do that with a conscious Peter. So he stays on the floor and uses the ends of his sleeves to try and stop some of the blood.
He feels horrible, letting Peter get hurt like this. He can't believe it happened. He absolutely hates the feeling of Peter's blood slick on his hands. But this isn't his first rodeo. He's dealt with Peter's wounds way too many times for comfort.
Peter wakes up slowly about a minute later, blinking up at Tony. His face scrunches up in pain as he tries to sit up, but Tony stops him.
"Stay there, bud," He says. "You hit your head on something--" He looks around the room and notices the sharp corner of the counter. "Probably the island. You might have a concussion."
"Damn." Peter mutters.
"Damn is right," Tony smiles gently, trying to mask his worry. "How do you feel?" He asks.
"I feel dizzy. . ." He mutters. "I don't feel well."
"Okay, we need to get you to the medbay. So we're gonna do this together, alright?"
"Alright." Peter says. Tony helps him sit up, then stand, then walk. They shuffle across the floor, as coordinately as possible, to the elevator. Once they're inside, Peter leans against the corner. He notices the blood on Tony's sweater.
"Your hoodie." He frowns, gesturing to the bloody article of clothing.
"It's okay," Tony assures. "I have tons." He says. Peter nods, but Tony can tell he feels guilty.
The elevator doors open and they walk through. Tony's arm is wrapped around Peter's torso, so he doesn't topple over. They make it to a bed and Peter sits down. He touches the back of his head and frowns at the blood on his hand.
"This sucks." He says.
"Yeah," Tony agrees, sighing. "But I'll fix you up," He assures. He parts Peter's hair lightly, inspecting the small gash. It doesn't look that deep, which is a good sign. He just has to see if some pressure can get the edges together. "This might hurt a little." He states, but Peter already knows. Tony, as gently as possible, presses the skin together, making Peter tense.
"Stitches?" Peter questions, hating the idea already.
"Don't think so," Tony says, much to both of their relief. "The cut isn't too deep and the skin'll heal on it's own." He mumbles. He removes his hands from Peter's scalp and grabs a first aid kit from one of the cabinets. He opens it and grabs some sterile gauze. He places it against Peter's head to try and stop the bleeding.
"You still dizzy?" He asks. Peter mumbles a small 'no'. "Good."
"I'm sorry."
"For what?" Tony asks, furrowing his brows in confusion.
"That you have to take care of me." Peter states.
"What do you mean?"
"You shouldn't have to take care of me all the time." Peter explains. Tony pulls the gauze away, an incredulous look on his face. Peter turns to look at him.
"Pete, I want to take care of you," He says. "I want to help you and make sure you're okay and-- you know that."
"I just feel bad."
"It's not your fault that you hit your head." Tony insists.
"But you still shouldn't have to help me, Mr. Stark," Peter mumbles. "You have your own life-stuff to be concerned about."
"Peter you are my life-stuff," Tony states. "And even if you weren't, would I do something if I didn't want to?"
"No." Peter murmurs.
"Exactly. Remember that," Tony says, returning to the back of Peter's head. He finishes dabbing away the blood, satisfied when the wound stops bleeding. He reaches into the first aid kid and grabs some alcohol pads, opening them and tossing the packaging into the nearby trash. "Tell me if this stings too much."
"Okay." Peter says. Tony wipes away the extra blood gently with the pad, moving Peter's hair out of the way. He tries to be as gentle as possible. Once he's finished he throws the trash away and washes his hands. He walks back to Peter and sits next to him. Peter looks at him. His eyes are glassy. Tony extends his arm and Peter falls into his embrace
"You okay?" Tony asks quietly.
"Mhm." Peter hums. Tony actively reminds himself not to run his hands through Peter's curls, and settles for rubbing up and down his shoulder instead. Peter rests his head on Tony's shoulder, sighing.
"I'm sorry I wasn't there to catch you." Tony says.
Peter lifts his head and rests his chin on Tony's shoulder. "You can't be there all the time." He reminds.
"I know," Tony whispers, smiling fondly. "But I'll try."