The plan had originally been that Tony, Pepper, Morgan, and Peter would all dress up as a family of vampires for the Halloween party the team was throwing at the Compound.
That said plan was going right down the toilet now because somehow, Peter got sick.
“Pete you ready? We have to leave in five minutes!” Tony calls from downstairs.
“Yeah…” Peter groans into his pillow, hair damp from the shower he’d gotten out of minutes before, only to have a dizzy spell when he bent down to grab something, resulting in him lying down until it was over.
Only getting up feels like a lot of work right now.
Why does this always have to happen to him? He’s been looking forward to dressing up and going to the party tonight, especially since Halloween was one of his favorite holidays outside of Thanksgiving and Christmas. One thing’s for sure, he definitely wasn’t telling or letting anyone know that he’s not feeling well because that would mean missing out on the party, and Morgan’s been so excited about going since Tony told them about it. Peter definitely wasn’t letting her down, not over a silly little cold.
No. He wasn’t going to give in to this. It was mind over matter.
At least that’s what he’s been trying to tell himself all day, since waking up horribly achy and groggy.
“Gotta get up…” Peter murmurs to himself, sucking in a grounding breath before he slowly pushes himself up.
Thankfully his vision doesn’t blur like it had earlier, so that was a win. Peter rubs at his face tiredly, hands dropping in his lap as he looks over at his closet, eyes landing on the black tuxedo he was supposed to wear tonight. It was the same one Tony had bought him for that Stark Industries gala a while back.
The last thing Peter wants to do right now with how he’s feeling, is wear that horribly uncomfortable thing for heck knows how many hours tonight. Too bad there wasn’t something else he could wear, something more comfortable and Halloweeny.
An idea suddenly pops into his head.
“You’ve got to be kidding me.” Tony dryly says, an unimpressed look on his face, decked out in his black tuxedo, his hair slicked back with hair gel.
Peter shrugs, dressed head to toe in his Spider-Man suit, wearing the cape over it that he was supposed to wear over his tux. “What? I’m… uh… Vamp-Spidey? Spider-Vamp? Spire?” Peter weakly says in his defense, holding his arms out.
Morgan giggles at Pepper’s side, who are both decked out in their costumes, a form-fitting shiny black dress on Pepper, and Morgan in a cute black dress with a flowy black skirt with orange and silver sparkles.
“Do you have any concept of a secret identity?” Tony asks.
“Well, it doesn’t matter, right? The team already knows who I am and it’s Halloween. I can just keep my mask on all night if it bothers you so much.” Peter lightly says.
Tony closes his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose, shaking his head with a sigh. “You know-fine. You look great, kid. Let’s just get in the car. We’re already ten minutes late.”
“Not late enough for your taste though, right?” Pepper asks with a knowing smile, looking like the perfect bride for a Vampire.
A smile tugs at Tony’s mouth at her teasing. “Ha ha. Come on.” He says as he opens the front door.
By the time they arrive at the Compound, it’s five-forty in the evening and the driveway is a literal parking lot. In the half hour drive over, Peter ended up taking an impromptu nap, which did nothing to help the exhaustion that’s heavily weighing him down and the car ride didn’t do anything to help his stomach.
When they arrive on the Avenges’ floor, the lights are dim, party lights flashing and glowing around the room, the speakers turned up playing The Monster Mash . There are a couple of people dancing in the cleared out living room but people seem to be mostly standing around mingling, snacks and punch in hand.
“Well, well, well, look who decided to show up.” A voice comes over the music.
Peter looks over and does a double take when he sees Clint, who’s dressed as Black Widow in a black skintight bodysuit, red wig and all.
Tony snickers at the sight of the man. “Wow… looking good, Barton. Who’s idea was this?”
“Eh, I lost a bet to Sam. Loser had to dress as Nat.” The archer shrugs. “But hey! You guys look amazing as a family of Vampires and-” His eyes fall on Peter, brows pulling together in confusion. “And Spider-Man?”
“He felt like being creative tonight.” Tony explains, an amused grin on his lips.
Clint hummus, brows raising as he nods. “It’s certainly different, but hey, what the hell, right? It’s Halloween!” He smiles, holding his arms out. “You guys go on and have some fun!”
Pepper smiles, “We’ll do that. You too.”
Peter follows behind them further in the room but Clint claps his hands around his shoulders, stopping him.
“I’d just avoid the blue punch. I think Nat spiked it.” Clint whispers.
Peter raises an eyebrow under his mask. “Why? With what?”
“Don’t know, some fun juice if you know what I mean. Sam’s a wee bit off his rocker and I’m feeling a bit buzzed.” Clint grins. “You and your sister stick to the red punch bowl, got it?” He says, gently patting his shoulders.
“Got it.” Peter says as he watches him stalk off towards the kitchen.
Peter walks around a little bit, taking in all of the costumes and the shockingly lifelike decorations that were littered around the place. There are a bunch of skeletons and webs hanging on the walls, as well as fake blood spatters.
Peter’s stomach churns at the sight of it all, so he has to tear his eyes away and focus on looking for Morgan. Despite disappointing everyone with his costume choice, he’s immensely grateful that he’s wearing his suit with how loud everything is, his mask already dialing down the brightness and sound levels.
He finds Morgan by the snack table with Pepper, where Happy and May are, laughing a something. They’re both dressed as 70’s hippies, definitely May’s doing, but Happy looks pretty, well… happy. The both of them do.
Peter watches Morgan licking the frosting off of a cupcake that resembles an eyeball, cringing when he sees her frosted covered tongue licking at the top.
“Hey, there he is!” May smiles when she sees him, smiling brightly, her light pink glasses shining in the lighting. “Spider-Vamp.”
Clearly she already bumped into Tony.
“Or-what was it? Spire?” Happy throws in with an amused grin.
“Oh, haha.” Peter rolls his eyes, as May hugs him since she hasn’t seen him in a few days since he’s been staying over at the lake house for the weekend.
They all talk for a few minutes, before Morgan pulls Peter away into the kitchen so she could get a drink. Peter avoids the bowl of blue punch and goes for the red, poring Morgan and himself a cup. He rolls up his mask to his nose and takes a small sip, cringing from the sweetness of it. Morgan doesn’t seem to mind it as she happily drinks it, while Peter cautiously sips at the overly sugary beverage.
They go back out and stand with Pepper, who was now talking with Natasha, who was wearing a Hawkeye costume, her red hair tied up in a tight ponytail. There must’ve been a story behind that costume choice.
“Oooh, Petey look! Games!” Morgan excitedly squeals, tugging on his arm as she points at the other side of the room, where multiple Halloween themed games are spread out, like pin the arm on the skeleton.
He raises an eyebrow at that, wondering who was behind that one. Clint probably, maybe even Sam.
“Well let’s go see them.” Peter tells her, earning an excited squeal from her.
An hour passes by, and at this point, Peter’s regretting not telling Tony and Pepper he wasn’t feeling good so they could have stayed home.
The filtering in his mask isn’t helping Peter out that much with all of the noise and bright lights around him, and he’s developed quite the headache over the past thirty or so minutes. But then again, his senses are always extra sensitive whenever he’s sick. Which he certainly wasn’t.
Mind over matter. Peter tells himself, brows pulling together when his stomach strongly disagrees with the one cup of punch and a few snacks he’s had tonight.
He can feel the sweat building up on his back and on his forehead, regretting wearing his suit. He could have just dressed up as a ghost with a simple white sheet over him and wear whatever he wanted underneath it.
Peter is standing beside Morgan, who’s been playing the skeleton game for the past ten minutes. There are a lot of kid games here but Morgan seems to be the only kid here.
At least she’s having fun at this thing though.
Peter closes his eyes, wishing that there were chairs or something around so he could sit. He’s starting to feel a pinch bit lightheaded all of a sudden, which probably wasn’t a good sign. Maybe he just needed some water.
Peter opens his eyes again and his eyes roam over the costumed partiers until his eyes land on Tony.
“Hey, M? How about we go see what Daddy’s up to?” Peter loudly says to her, bending down to her level so she could hear him over the base of the speakers.
“Okay.” She nods, seeming alright with abandoning the games.
Peter takes her hand and the two of them make their way through the sea of people, taking a few moments until they reach Tony. All of the movement is making Peter dizzy.
“Ah-there you two are!” Tony smiles when he sees them. “Having fun?”
“Yeah… lots.” Peter says, with no real excitement behind it. “Uh, I’m just going to grab something to drink.”
“Okay.” Tony nods as he smiles at Morgan and picks her up. “And how are you my little Vampire Princess?”
Peter can’t hear her answer over the loud music and voices as he turns away and walks over to the kitchen, maneuvering around the crowd.
The kitchen is thankfully empty when he walks in, and he breathes out a shaky, relieved breath as he pulls his mask off. He winces from the onslaught of bright lights and sounds, a dull throbbing behind his eyes as his headache ramps up a few notches.
Peter makes a beeline to the refrigerator but he pauses when something catches his eye. He looks down at the countertop of the center island next to the sink, fear shooting through him at the sight he’s met with.
A cutting board is out, with a severed hand right on top next to a butcher knife. There’s blood everywhere , all over the board, the countertop and all over the sink. The hand looks so realistic that there’s a piece of bone and mangled flesh peeking out from it.
Peter’s stomach violently twists, as saliva rapidly fills his mouth. His eyes widen fearfully as his eyes dart around himself for something to throw up into, knowing that there was nothing he could do to prevent the inevitable from happening.
He moves for the sink but pauses, noting how absolutely disgusting that would be for a guest to find him upchucking in a sink, plus he never wants to lay eyes on that hand ever again in his life.
Peter’s eyes land on a trash can by the refrigerator and he practically dives for it, making it just in time before he’s heaving into it, throwing up what little food he’s eaten all day.
He doesn’t even hear the footsteps coming towards the kitchen.
“Peter?” He recognizes Happy’s voice. “What the hell-are you alright?”
Peter tries to answer him but opening his mouth but he gags, finding himself bent over the barrel again, painfully retching.
“I’m… I’m going to get Tony or May. I’ll be right back. You just… stay there.” Happy panically, sounding like he had no idea what to do.
Peter only groans in response.
Not even thirty seconds later, Tony rushes into the kitchen.
“Oh, Pete…” He sympathetically says as he walks over to him, placing a hand on Peter’s back, rubbing small, soothing circles.
“S’ the hand’s falt…” Peter moans into the barrel.
“What hand?” Tony asks, confused, probably looking around the kitchen for it. “Oh… that hand. Yikes. Yeah, that’d do it for me too. I’m going to have a serious talk with whoever did that, and my money’s on Clint.”
Peter remains silent, focusing on keeping his stomach as still as possible. He feels like absolute garbage, no pun intended. His head is pounding now, a dull pulsating behind his eyes and he feels horribly woozy, but thankfully less nauseous now.
Tony’s hand pauses on his back. “Was it just the hand that got you sick? You’ve been acting off all day.”
Peter caves and shakes his head. “No... been feeling sick all day.” He confesses.
Tony breathes out a sigh through his nose. “Kid, this is why you have to tell me these things. I knew something was up with the whole costume switch.”
“M’ sorry.” Peter softly says into the trash barrel.
Tony continues rubbing his back. “It’s alright but please let me know from now on when you’re not feeling good. Okay? Please? You know I have a heart condition.”
Peter silently nods in agreement.
“Think you’re done?” Tony asks after a few minutes of them standing there in the middle of the kitchen.
“Think so…” Peter says as he slowly stands up.
He leans against the counter, avoiding looking towards the sink, watching Tony seal up the garbage bag and take it out from the barrel. He turns around and looks at Peter, concern etched on his features.
“How about we head on home? Get you into bed?” Tony suggests.
Guilt floods through Peter at that. “No, you guys should have fun-”
“Pete, I can’t have any fun when I know you’re feeling this miserable. Besides, we’ll just make up for it at Thanksgiving.” Tony says with a small smile, gently placing a hand on his back, steering him out of the kitchen. “Let’s go find Morgan and Pepper.”
As soon as he says it, Pepper appears right in front of them with Morgan in her arms, looking concerned as her eyes land on Peter. “Oh, Peter, sweetie. Happy said you weren’t feeling well? I was just coming to check on you.”
“Yeah, he’s not feeling so hot so we were going to find you two and see if you wanted to head on home?” Tony says.
She nods. “Yeah that’s probably a good idea.”
Peter leans into Tony tiredly as they head towards the elevator, the bass painfully beating against his ear drums, beating along with his pounding head.
“Wait.” Peter stops suddenly when they’re at the elevator. “I gotta tell May we’re leaving.”
“Uh, yeah… don’t worry about that, kiddo. She’s a wee bit out of it right now.” Tony says, leading him inside the elevator.
“Oh… she must’ve had the blue punch Clint told me about…” Peter mumbles.
“Yeah and a little too much of it, I’m afraid. Happy told me they were leaving anyways when he found you.” Tony says, pressing the bottom floor button.
Along their drive back home, Peter falls asleep in the back of the car, his head pillowed with his and Tony’s cape, the radio playing a soft classic rock in the background.
He wakes up sometime later, when they’re halfway up the stairs, finding himself in Tony’s arms.
“Are we home?” Peter sleepily murmurs, head resting against the man’s shoulder.
“Yeah, bud.” Tony softly says as he walks across the hallway to Peter’s room.
Peter hums, letting his heavy eyes slip closed once again.