Chapter Text
“Mr. Stark, do you think I can take a look at that raygun with you and Dr. Banner this coming weekend? I’m curious about the structure of the beam’s wavelengths and was thinking it might make a good report topic for my physics presentation in two weeks.”
“We’ll see, Underoos. I gotta have FRIDAY do a complete analysis before anyone goes near it, and especially certain teenagers with a knack for trouble.”
Over the comm, Tony heard what sounded like a small “harrumph” from Peter, but he chose (wisely, Tony would add) not to answer immediately and just kept swinging along.
Tony was just relieved they’d had a 100 percent successful mission, for once.
SHIELD had notified the Avengers of a shipment of rogue Chitauri tech - a remnant of the Vulture’s operation - that was set to leave Long Island earlier the next morning. As it was only being watched over by a group of six criminals, Peter had been invited along, joining Tony, Nat, Steve, and Sam. And, despite Tony’s worries, it went off without a hitch. Well, besides the one guy who’d shot some raygun beams at them, but Peter had webbed him up before anyone got lasered in half.
After packing away the tech on the quinjet, everyone besides Tony and Peter departed for the compound. Peter was heading back to Queens for the evening and Tony decided to accompany him before heading back to the compound himself.
They were only blocks from May’s apartment when things went to hell.
“Y’know, Mr. Stark, I don’t think it’s fair to say I have a knack for trouble. It tends to find me sometimes, sure, but no more than any other person bitten by a radioact-”
The comm went silent so abruptly that Tony instinctively looked to where Peter was swinging between buildings below him, only to see something straight out of his nightmares. Peter, who not half a second ago had been flying through the air between webs, was now boneless, soundless and falling toward the pavement not 100 feet below.
“Boss, Mr. Parker-” FRIDAY began but Tony was already ahead of the AI, flying at breakneck speed in a desperate attempt to catch the kid before he was splattered all over the concrete.
“Go, go, go,” Tony whispered mindlessly as he flew downward, heart beating just as quickly. If he didn’t get to Peter first, if Peter hit his head on the ground at that speed, if Peter was already somehow dead and Tony was too late - just god, no - no no no -
Ten feet, no time and Tony thrust his repulsors -
“AH! - what the?” Peter cried as his body landed securely into Iron Man’s outstretched arms, momentum now carrying them horizontal to the pavement. Tony finally took a full breath as his repulsors slowly lowered them, setting Peter down frantically but not ungently.
“Holy shit, Pete,” Tony said, his mask retracting as his hands started patting down Peter’s head, shoulders and chest. He knew the immediate danger had passed but damn it, the kid had just been this close to being nothing more than a bag of disconnected bones. The whole episode couldn’t have last more than eight seconds, but to Tony it had felt like a half a lifetime. “What the hell, kid? Are you hurt?”
“I - I don’t know?” Peter replied dazedly, looking down at himself before raising a hand to his head and scratching at his temple. “I was just swinging to the next web and then suddenly I couldn’t move anything. I was really tired? And I knew I was falling but I couldn’t stop it and then you caught me, and now I feel okay” - Tony threw him an incredulous look - “I swear, Mr. Stark. I feel just fine.”
“FRIDAY?” Tony asked, still glancing Peter up and down, as though he knew his eyes were deceiving him and some major injury was about to reveal itself.
“I cannot determine with my remote capabilities what caused Mr. Parker’s sudden onset of temporary paralysis, boss. KAREN is reporting no injuries, despite the direct beam to his chest earlier.”
Tony’s head swung so fast toward Peter that he was certain he’d given himself whiplash, his jaw tightening in a painful frown. Peter had enough humility to shrink inward with shame, a small squeak escaping him.
“Oh, yeah, I meant to tell you - really - but I, uh, may have taken a very, very small - like tiny - hit from the ray-gun right before I webbed the guy up?”
Tony closed his eyes as he let out an exasperated groan, burying his face in his hands. This kid was going to be the death of him.
---
“Boss, it appears Mr. Parker had a cataplexic episode brought on by a lack of production of the chemical hypocretin in the hypothalamus.”
“Plain English please, FRIDAY.”
“Mr. Parker appears to be suffering from a type of narcolepsy, boss.”
Tony and Peter sat in the medbay across from one another, twin looks of shock on their faces. Peter’s eyes widened considerably and his mouth made a small “O” of surprise.
“Whoa. Mr. Stark, can you believe this? This is so -” Peter began just as Tony put a hand up, automatically silencing him.
“Zip it. I don’t want to hear one word from you about how cool this is, or any synonym your late-period millenial brain can think of. It’s not” - Tony threw up air quotes - “freaking lit. It’s goddamn disturbing, and we need to get it fixed pronto.”
“But like, have you ever met someone who-”
“Zip. It.”
---
“Well, I have good news and bad news,” Bruce announced as he entered the main medbay room much later that evening, where a disheveled Tony was sitting near the screenwall. Two rooms away, Peter was sleeping (naturally, thank god) and hooked up to a dozen data-transferring electrodes, all of which Tony had been obsessively monitoring even while he pretended not to be.
Tony lazily motioned the universal signal for 'go on' while continuing to stare at the electrode readings in front of him, absentmindedly fiddling with some spare wires. Bruce’s lips quirked downward as he slapped his hands on his thighs, practically falling into the chair next to Tony.
“The good news is, I can’t find anything else wrong with him. He is a completely healthy and normal, albeit abnormally enhanced, seventeen year-old.”
Tony looked to Bruce finally. “And?”
“And the bad news is that the polysomnogram data is showing exactly what FRIDAY said. Peter’s neurons are producing hardly any hypocretin, and without that, episodes like the one you described tonight will probably keep happening.”
“Shit. Is there any trouble the kid doesn’t attract?” Tony seemed to say to himself before turning hopefully back to Bruce. “Can we fix it?”
“There’s no cure for it that I know of, Tony.” Bruce rubbed a hand across his face, lost in thought as Tony stared him down. “It’s probably worth seeing what T’Challa can do to help, if anything. But being this was a result of Chitauri technology, I’m skeptical the Wakandans will have much knowledge of use. Honestly, the best bet would probably be the Guardians, but who knows where they are or when they will get back to us. The most we can hope for is to treat the symptoms, at least for now.”
“Alright,” Tony said, standing up and crossing his arms. “And how do we do that?”
Bruce glanced up at him with a small, cheeky grin. “I can think of a few things, but we’re going to need an expert. How fast do you think Clint can get back here from Iowa?”