"Mentor Torment"-Avengers, M, Tony Stark

[VividBubbles!]

A cliffhanger! NNNOOOOOOoooooo!!!!

I mean, cliffhangers are just so mean! I'm so invested in Tony's stupid tablet now! What's going to happen?! Is Tony going to fall trying to grab the tablet? Is Peter going to catch it? Is it going to shatter on the floor and Tony gets angry and kicks Peter out? I NEED TO KNOW!

But in all seriousness, this update was great! I know I keep telling you that you write these characters perfectly, but you do and it's awesome! The part where Peter gets Tony to spit coffee and Tony's response is absolutely flawless! I can't wait to read more!

[Sitruuna]

Nonononono why does it end in a cliffhanger when I decide to catch up with it??? xD

This is awesome and I'm addicted. You write the characters so well and holy hell that cold is beautiful.

[TouchOfGrey]

I was glad to see this was updated. It's so good! More!!!  Lol. 

[SleepingPhlox]

Thank you so, so much, you guys.    I grew so attached to this that I tried to find a way to drag it out a bit more but it didn't feel right so it must end.   I'm really going to miss this!

 

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Part The Last-Tony Caves

 

When Tony opened his eyes, he found he was looking at the ceiling somehow.  That didn't seem like something that should be happening.  He swept his eyes from side to side and finally turned his head, eventually managing to ascertain that he was on his back on a small, rather uncomfortable sofa he'd put in here as an alternative to sitting at the desks and then never used.

He started to push himself up onto his elbows, but was interrupted by Peter's voice:

"Um...you shouldn't be doing that..."

"What the hell happened?  What's going on?"

"You kinda passed out."

"No I did not," Tony snapped hoarsely.  "Nobody has fainted because of a cold since leeches were considered a viable medical treatment.  Don't be ridiculous."

Okay, so apparently he was admitting his illness now.  Whatever.  He'd had enough of this entire day.  He just could not bring himself to care anymore.

"Well, you must have," Peter argued, with an attempt at "forcefully" that fell just short somewhere around the "wavering" mark.  "Otherwise I don't think you would have let me carry you across the room and put you there."

"You carried me?"

"Yep.  With these guns," Peter grinned, flexing his arms as much as his less than generous physique would allow and patting where his awesome biceps would be if he had them.

Tony managed a small chuckle and let his head flop back down wearily.  "Guns?  Kid, those are barely water pistols."

"Yeah.  Okay.  My augmented strength helped a lot.  You know, I'm thinking about calling it 'Spider Strength'.  Has a cool kind of ring to it, don't you think.  Oh...wait...I'm not supposed to let you do that."

He had spotted Tony struggling valiantly to lift his pathetic carcass into a sitting position.  He had been told in no uncertain terms by FRIDAY that he was not to allow this to happen.  According to her (Was FRIDAY a "her"?  Or an "it"?  How was one to properly address a computer program?  He'd go with "her" for now and ask Mr. Stark later.) he had consumed a grand total of approximately 380 calories in the last 48 hours and had sucked down 7 cups of coffee in the last 4 hours.  FRIDAY explained rather resignedly that she could not understand why Mr. Stark seemed perpetually taken by surprise by illnesses when his body gave him a whole day or two warning beforehand that he was coming down with something.  Loss of appetite, for example.   She had noted that his body temperature was slightly over 101, which she found worrisome in conjunction with his other issues, while not immediately dangerous on its own.  She had gone on to explain, in an oddly exasperated tone for a computer, that one of her primary functions was to keep Mr. Stark from completely destroying himself through recklessness or neglect, and he did make fulfilling that function awfully difficult.  But, Peter could provide what she currently lacked-a physical presence to force "that fool" (Did Mr. Stark know she spoke about him like that?  Should he tell Mr. Stark that?) to look after himself "before he really did it this time".

"I...I mean it," Peter said nervously.  "I can't allow you to get up.  FRIDAY said no."

Tony snorted, which he immediately regretted as it loosened up a new bit of mucus that was now making it's own bid for freedom.  "Yeah, well, FRIDAY can't stop me and you don't have the cajones to try and stop me so..."

He broke off suddenly, his face a perfect picture of complete and utter astonishment as a quick burst of Peter's webbing hit him across the chest and shoulders, pinning him back down against the sofa.  Just as the thought entered his mind to reach up and attempt to tear it away, two short and ridiculously accurate bursts immobilised his hands.

"What the hell did you just do?" Tony demanded, struggling futilely against the deceptive strength of the mass of silken strands.  "Let me go, you goddammned...argh!"

Peter fidgeted nervously.  In honesty, in his haste to do the right thing, he had panicked.  This course of action had not been remotely thought out at all, and now he was fairly sure this would be where he would die because Mr. Stark was going to kill him.  Unless he just left him here forever, which would be really bad.  Then he'd be a murder or a...um...an imprisoner?  A capturer?  It didn't even matter!  Either of those options spelled jail and the second one possibly spelled jail and also being killed by Mr. Stark.  Oh, this was bad.  This was so, so, so bad!

"I had a little something up my sleeve," Peter joked lamely, finishing off with a high-pitched nervous laugh.  "No, really.  I keep one of these hidden up my sleeve in case of Spider-Emergencies."

Okay, maybe not everything sounded cool preceded by "Spider-" 

He needed to think.  He needed a way to diffuse this situation, make Mr. Stark stop being upset with him, but also help FRIDAY look after him like he promised.  Oh come on!  This couldn't be that hard!

"Hey," Peter said, struck by what was probably the best idea ever.  He was just going to distract Mr. Stark with conversation until he forgot to be mad at him!  "So...uh...have you ever sneezed inside your helmet?  Is it really gross?"

"What the hell kind of a question is that?" Tony spluttered.  "Of course I haven't!"

Of course he certainly hadn't.  He'd absolutely never agreed to go help with the cleanup efforts of a village he had previously saved from a bombing despite the fact that at the time he was suffering with a streaming cold.  And he certainly hadn't stood there in full armour while being praised and thanked by the entirety of the grateful populace and felt a sneeze coming on.  And he hadn't instinctively brought his hand up to his face to cover his mouth when that sneeze finally exploded out.  And no, from the outside to perplexed villagers, it had not looked like Iron Man had just punched himself in the face out of the blue for no reason.  And he hadn't been so flustered by how disgusting the inside of his helmet had become that he flew off suddenly; and if he had flown off and happened to land somewhere, it wasn't to steal a t-shirt from someone's clothesline to blow his nose into and he hadn't felt so guilty about doing that that he would have returned a week later to give that household enough money to buy a hundred new t-shirts.

Absolutely none of that had ever happened, and he would continue to deny any of it until his dying breath.

But he did need to stop thinking about sneezing now.  It was making his nose tickle and throb even more than it already had been.

Tony struggled more violently now.  "I bead it, kid.  Let be go, right dow.  It...is...vehhh...ehhh...ery important...hehhh..."

Peter saw the unmistakable expression on Mr. Stark's face.  Crap.  He hadn't thought of the inevitability of Mr. Stark needed to sneeze.  He wasn't sure if he had enough time to free even one of Mr. Stark's hands but he could at least try.  Unfortunately, he had barely begun to scratch the surface when the order to "MOVE!" was suddenly bellowed.  He darted out of the way to avoid the volley of five impressively productive sneezes that were launched.

Tony launched those sneezes in the only direction he had access to-all over his own torso.  Naturally-because the day hadn't quite screwed with him enough at this point-quite a bit of the fallout now adorned his own face.  And he couldn't do a damned thing but sit here trapped and covered in his own disgustingness.

That was it.  He was done.  He couldn't do this anymore.  He was admitting defeat and calling an end to this day and going to bed.  Screw it.  Screw everything.  He turned his head to address Peter, only to find that the kid had taken off and was nowhere to be found.  Hell, that brat hadn't just taken off and left him here to rot under a river of his own snot, did he?  That little punk brat son of a-

"Sorry Mr. Stark.  We're out of napkins but there were these blue paper towels."

Huh.  Initiative and thoughtfullness.  Great kid.

"Now I'm going to get your hand free but you have to promise not to kill me.  Deal?"

Tony sighed in resignation.  He didn't even have a snappy retort left in him.  "I've got a better deal for you.  How about you let all of be go...quickly!...and we reschedule for, lets see, Friday afterdood?  Three days frob dow?  This has been a crappy lesson, I haven't taught you addythi'g a'd hodestly, I feel like shit. I'b...ugh...ETA on that getti'g by ha'd free thi'g?  I'b...hehhh..."

Peter managed to free Tony's right hand and press a paper towel into it just in time for Tony to bring it up to his face:

"HehhEEGHHtchh!  Tchhheeeh!...*sniff*...hehhhEEEHtchh!  What was I sayi'g?  Oh yeah.  I'b godda go to bed a'd I probise I'll be fide by the tibe I see you agaid.  If you ha'd be that tablet over there...thagk you, that was quick.  Dever use your webs to bove thi'gs id by workshop agaid.  I'b godda fidish putting books od this and you're godda read theb at hobe."

"And you're gonna rest and make sure you eat stuff and don't drink coffee?"

Tony rolled his eyes.  "Yes, fide."

"Shake on it?"

Tony sniffed deeply.  "Yeah, no.  Bad idea.  I'm probably pretty contagious right now.  Germs use handshakes as their public transportation.  Proven fact."

"I told you, I don't think I can get sick."

"Whatever."  He handed Peter the tablet.  "Take care of that.  It's yours now.  Now, I need you to go downstairs and tell the reception desk that Mr. Stark said to get Happy to drive you home now."  In response to Peter's quizzical look, he added "Trust me, it'll make sense to them.  Go on, get out of here.  I can't start resting until you scram."

"Yes, Mr. Stark.  And thank you.  So much.  It was actually great working with you today.  And next time is gonna be awesome.  I'll read these.  I'll read them twice.  I'll-"

"Kid, just go!"

Tony let his weary head flop down onto the sofa.  He absolutely would go to bed...just as soon as he found the strength to stand up.  And eating didn't sound so bad, as long as he could find some crackers or something stashed away somewhere.

Yes, it seemed that even he knew when it was time to stop and rest every once in a while, after all.

 

THE END

[HakunaMatata]

PHLOX!

 

I don't even know where to start! You know already that I absolutely love your way of portraying Tony but sick Tony dealing with the Spiderkid being all over excited and ARGH this makes me so happy!

 

*melts into happy puddle of goo*

 

You're perfect!

[VividBubbles!]

This was possibly one of the cutest things in the entire world! I wish that I had more time to gush about it because it was so freaking amazing and adorable but I have work in like 15 minutes so unfortunately I do not have the time. But even though I can't leave the comment that I want to, I still want to let you know that this was awesome and perfect in every way and I'm so excited to read more stuff from you!

[SpiritOfTheInternet]

This was so good! I love the idea all together and Tony being all stubborn was great!

[VividBubbles!]

On 8/4/2016 at 4:52 AM, SpookingPhlox said:

  Well, now that you've put the idea in my head, when this one has finished I shall do a sequel in which Peter discovers that no, he does not even remotely have super immunity, and that assuming it was perfectly fine to stick around Tony's germs all day was a foolish mistake...

Bumping this because I've been thinking about this fic idea a lot lately and was wondering if you were still planning on writing something?