Soft kitty warm kitty GIANT ball of fur

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Waking up to a splitting headache is not fun. Waking up to a splitting headache, aching jaw, and leaking fangs is not fun. But that's what Peter woke up to.

"Oh come on." He groaned, carefully standing up and moving towards the bathroom.

He pulled a small plastic cup from under the sink and held it below his fangs as he gently pressed down on the two swollen glands on the roof of his mouth. Venom poured from his fangs and into the cup, filling it about halfway with the clear liquid before coming to a stop. Peter set the cup aside - he'd give it to Bruce later - and splashed some cold water on his face.

"Friday, can you turn the lights down, please."

"Of course, Peter." Immediately the lights dimmed to their lowest setting.

Peter sighed with relief, the pounding in his head dimming along with the lights. But the pain in his jaw remained. He didn't have a clue as to why his jaw was aching so much. He didn't grind his teeth or chew gum, so that was out.

"Boss wanted me to inform you that he will be away until this evening. He and Miss Romanov are meeting with agent Hill. He also gave me a message to play for you. Shall I play it now?"

"Yeah, sure."

"Morning, kiddo, sorry I missed you." Tony's voice flitted around the room from Friday's speakers. "Make sure to eat breakfast and remember that Ned's coming over at 1:00. Love you. See you later."

Peter smiled despite himself, his pain diminishing when he focused on his father's love for him.

"Steve has just finished making breakfast and is requesting you join them on floor eighty-six."

"Oh, okay. Can you tell Steve I'll be down in like, ten minutes." He rubbed the side of his face. The headache was definitely transforming into a migraine.

"Of course."

"Thanks, Fri. You're the best."

You could almost hear the smile in her voice. "It is no problem, Peter."

"Morning, kid!" Clint greeted as he walked in.

Usually, Clint's up-beat attitude and loud personality wasn't a problem for Peter. He loved the man's joking nature and positive attitude. But today, his loud greeting only aggravated him. He gave a curt nod and quickly moved out into the lounge where it was less populated.

"Morning, son." Steve looked over his newspaper to see Peter collapse onto the couch. "Rough night?" A soft groan was all he got in response, which prompted him to set his paper aside and make sure his nephew was okay.

Peter leaned into Steve's hand that was pressed against his temple, causing the older hero to chuckle. "You don't feel warm."

"Migraine." He ground out, turning himself, so he was facing the back of the couch. He didn't want to be rude, but the light was making things worse. A loud growl had the boy clutching his stomach, and his cheeks flushed in embarrassment.

"I'll get you something to eat." Steve got up to grab some food, but a small hand pulled him back. "You need to eat something, Peter. I know what it's like when I don't eat enough. I can't imagine what it's like for you." Peter shook his head and immediately regretted it, his vision swimming. "Come on," Steve goaded, "how 'bout some juice or something?

"M'kay"

"Good, kid." The super soldier rushed off to grab something from the kitchen.

"Morning, spider child." Loki greeted softly before taking a seat on the chair near Peter's head.

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