#home remedy for cold

[vidaamour]

Since everyone seems to be getting sick I got some erm potions for ya;

Sore throat?

Brew a throat coat tea, add in honey, fresh garlic and ginger. Honey is anti bacterial, garlic and ginger have many health benefits that act as anti inflammatories.

Mucus?

Take the skin and core of a fresh pineapple and steep it in boiling water for an hour, fish out the solids and drink the water that’s left. Pineapple has enzymes that attack the mucus and push it out of the body. Plus pineapple over all is good for you.

Nausea?

Smell a rubbing alcohol pad or rubbing alcohol in general(learned this when I was taking Ems courses). Drink a flat coke or ginger ale. The coke syrup in coke helps settle the stomach and the ginger in gingerale is anti inflammatory.

Headache?

Feet in hot water, something frozen on the back of your neck and head between your knees. The heat is gonna warm your extremities and the cold is gonna help pull the excess blood from your head causing the headache. Almonds work as a natural aspirin, eating about ten to twenty whole almonds has been proven to help with headaches along with black coffee.

Over all just icky?

Boil pastina, add it to warm veggie or chicken broth for a go to feel better classic my Italian mama swears by. Add in parmigiana and LOTS of black pepper.

Chug some orange juice and water.

If all else fails, go to a doctor and wear a mask.

[kfedup]

Huge thanks again to @hthrrloooo for responding to my desperate ask the other day. I wish I’d had the energy to actually make it that day, but I finally did yesterday, totally forgetting that it also needs to be chilled overnight to separate the fat.

I’m just back from the most aggravating dog walk ever, hangry, wiped out, and all snotty again from the cold air, and am sipping a mug of this pure medicine with minced fresh cilantro and I can feel it working on my battered immune system. I was too lazy to slice the chili pepper but gave the mug a dash of Aleppo pepper flakes

Here’s hoping it helps with my shitty attitude, too. I think next weekend I will do a big stockpot full of this and freeze containers to have on hand for whatever next garbage germ invades my worn out system. My ears are still completely fucked with constant tinnitus and feeling like they’re full of water. Methinks a bath and maybe some Mullein-Garlic Oil drops at bedtime. I really want a hot toddy but that’s a slippery slope I know I shouldn’t climb.

[tastesoftamriel]

Yellow Goblin Tonic

We've all been there, snivelling and coughing, as hoarse as a goblin. This is my go-to cure for minor ailments like colds and coughs, which I drink at least twice a day when I'm feeling under the weather. This isn't the most delicious recipe I've written, but it's bound to give your immune system a kick!  Down the hatch!

You will need:

2 cups water

Juice of 4 big lemons

200g ginger root, peeled and chopped into chunks

1/2 cup honey or brown sugar

3 tsp turmeric powder (or 1 small turmeric root, peeled and chopped)

2 tsp cayenne powder

2 tsp ginseng syrup (optional)

Method:

Bring the water to a boil and add all your ingredients except for the honey. Boil on full heat for 3-5 minutes before bringing down to low heat.

Leave to simmer uncovered to reduce for 10-15 minutes, stirring periodically. If the mixture begins to dry out, top up with water.

Continue to simmer after the first top up and reduce until you are left with about one cup of concentrated liquid. It should be bright yellow and very potent!

Remove from the heat and strain the liquid into a bottle or jar. Add the honey and stir through thoroughly. Best served as concentrated shots, but also good when diluted slightly with half a cup of warm water per shot.

[faofinn]

12. Old Wives Tale

Fred had to smile, taking the copy from her. It had been his copy, dog eared and worn, a gift from his brother years ago. She'd not managed to get much further than where they'd left; wanting to wait until they were back together, curled up and reading separately. She figured that her curled up on him and Fred reading to her was just as good (if not better), and she pulled out the puppydog eyes. 

He never could resist her, and opened the book to start to read aloud, his voice soft so she could fall back asleep if she needed. 

Sheila ended up dozing, content in Fred's arms. His voice was soft and home, making her feel better. The paracetamol had helped, too, bringing her fever down a little. When she woke, it was late afternoon, and Fred was nowhere to be found. She stretched out with a sigh, trying to build the energy to get up.

"Fred?" She called, padding through the house, her blanket cocooned around her. "Fred?"

"Kitchen!" He called, his voice carrying. 

"You left me." She grumbled good-naturedly; whatever he was cooking smelled too good to argue with him. 

"Oh, I'm sorry." He met her in the doorway, wrapping his arms around her. "How are you feeling at the moment?"

She leaned into him. "Mm, better. Still rubbish."

"That's a bit better, you look better than you did before." He said softly, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "I'm just making some tea for us."

"It smells good."

"It's an old family recipe, it'll make you feel better."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah, it’s chicken soup. It'll fix all your illnesses."

She laughed. "That's just an old wives tale."

"So you don't want it?" He teased. 

"No, no." She said quickly, her stomach rumbling. "I didn't say that."

He laughed. "Pull up a chair? I've gotta finish stirring."

She reluctantly peeled herself away from him, perching on the counter instead of a chair. "You'll have to teach me."

"Of course, when you’re better, though. It wouldn’t stick right now." He chatted away to her as he finished up, tidying away the pots and pans, and decanting a few portions into some tupperware. 

"Want some bread with it?" Fred asked, rubbing her knee.

"Mm?" She blinked at him, rubbing her eyes. "What?"

He laughed. "I thought you'd gone quiet. You'd fallen asleep up there."

"I wasn't asleep." She protested. 

He wrapped his arms around her, picking her up. She nestled into him, holding onto him like a koala. He carried her through to the living room, setting her on the sofa.

"Put something on the TV? I'll bring your soup through."

She grinned at him, tucking her feet up. "Thank you."

Fred returned to the kitchen, pouring her a glass of apple juice before carrying both their teas through. He settled the tray on her lap and curled up next to her. "So, what have we got?"

Sheila looked up at him with a smile, sheepishly taking the tray. “Just whatever I could find on.”

"Good enough for me. Careful, it's hot."

“Thank you.”

He stretched forward to steal a kiss, quickly settling back down to eat. "There's some for the freezer too, and enough for tomorrow."

“You shouldn’t kiss me.” She mumbled. 

"I'm gonna get sick anyway." He shrugged. "Well, I'm not, because this is gonna cure us both."

She made no effort to move away, snuggling against him the best she could with her bowl of soup. The first spoon was heaven, warm and comforting, and she sighed happily. 

"Better?"

“Much. You’ve cured me.”

[eli-being-silly]

no sign that you're really growing up like your dad finally deciding that you're old enough for a full strength hot toddy when you're sick

(btw if you are sick and do not know what a hot toddy is get onto it. get a mug, put in some honey, some lime or lemon cordial/juice, and some whiskey, then fill to the top of the mug with boiling water. i usually do three tbsp honey, two tbsp lime cordial, 1.5 tbsp whiskey, but you can just do it to personal taste. cures a sore throat and heady cough like nothing else.)

[lupismaris]

Long disassociative day is ended by locking my keys in my truck in the parking lot of my fuckin flat. It's almost enough to make me feel something after a day of forcibly making sure I feel nothing. Almost. I hate this.

[thethirtyproject444]

29.12.22

Sooooo I got sick. My dad was sick before Christmas and got back to normal too fast and the last few days he’s been sick again even worse, and now I have it. Luckily I don’t seem as bad though. It was my first day off and I was excited to hang with everyone but I’m gonna stay in bed today so hopefully my sister and my mum don’t catch it.

I wasss bummed but I’m gonna take today as a chance to recharge on my own, drink a lot of honey and lemon, journal and watch some YouTube videos for New Year inspo 🦋

PLUS I loveeee New Year’s resolutions and I haven’t got a little list yet, so that’s my little task for the day 💙

[batgirlspain]

Do any of the bats get sick? What do you do when you get sick?

I just caught a cold from my family and I'm so sad :')

Hey Anon!

First of all, I hope you get better. Please don't be sad, you'll see how in a few days you'll be fine. It's just a cold!

Second, of course we get sick! As I'm sure you know, we spend many nights out on patrol. That means cold, heat, rain, snow, wind, humidity, temperature changes from one place to another... all of this affects your body no matter how hard you try to take care of yourself. The strange thing would be that we didn’t get sick! We’re human beings like you.

Thirdly, I'm not 100% sure what others do but I can tell you some things I do when I get sick and I assure you they work (I’m no doctor and if things get worse you should visit one!):

- I make myself bowls of warm chicken soup with vegetables.

- I cut some raw slices of ginger root and put them in boiling water to drink from time to time.

- I consume vitamin C. You can find it in oranges, lemons, limes, grapefruits, leafy greens... You can even make juices if you prefer.

These are easy home remedies apart from the typical medicines any doctor can prescribe.

Please tell me when you feel better and take care, Anon!

[witchy-batsquatch]

Here's a concoction of mine that helped my sore throat and stuffy nose.9

So I have a cold it sucks but it's run of the mill so I put together this tea because I know these ingredients help me personally.(⚠️disclaimer if you are on medication of any sort consult your pharmacist on possible negative interactions)

You will need

Pine needles I collected mine in spring and dried them and ground them up but fresh will do if you have access to it

Clove I used powdered you can use whole cloves however I think powdered disperses better

Lemon juice I used a whole lemon but bottled stuff works fine

Cayenne pepper

Honey or sugar the honey is naturally antibacterial and anti inflammatory but sugar works to sweeten

I take a tablespoon of pine needles, lemon juice, half a tablespoon of cloves, half a teaspoon of cayenne pepper, and honey to taste. Pour boiling water over it stir and steep for three to five minutes and strain or don’t it’s up to you.

The cayenne will act as a decongestant and the cloves and pine needles will numb the lemon juice is also antibacterial and anti-inflammatory the honey coats the throat to help ease the ache. My word is purely anecdotal I'm not calling this a cure but I can say that it's day two and I'm feeling much better. Hope this helps!

[void-imp]

I HOPE YOU WILL GET RID OF YOUR COLD!! Get better soon bestie 🥹

thank you!! i hope so too 😭

[jacob-blogs]

You have to censor the word death on Tik Tok but have free reign to post whatever batshit insane recipe/workout/beauty regimen/DIY tip/CHALLENGE that could very easily get someone killed. Priorities ☺️

[ratp4ssy]

ive been sick as a mfer this weekend. anyone know any home remedies that make a runny nose less annoying?

[mocacheezy]

Love isn't just hearing people close to you ask if you need help.

Love is when you say "yes, I do." and accept that they care.

[faofinn]

9. Home Remedy

@sicktember

Fao hated being ill. He'd picked this up from God knows where, probably big lectures, long days and cold, exhausting rugby training in the rain. Regardless of where this illness had come from, it was horrid. Pounding headache, cold sweats, a cough that Fao couldn't shift. He sounded awful, his voice on its way out too, and he didn't have the energy for much other than staying curled under his duvet sleeping. He'd even missed lectures, which he never did, but he couldn't summon the energy to walk to campus. He could barely summon the energy to get up to make tea. 

He was woken from his doze by his phone ringing on the table beside him. Groaning, he reached for it to see who was calling him. Sheila. She’d been fussing since she’d found out he was ill. 

“Mum?” He rasped, his voice really suffering now. 

“Oh, Fao. You sound dreadful, sweetheart.” Sheila said softly.

“Mm. Feel it too.” He replied.

“Did you have lectures today?”

“Yeah. Didn’t go in.”

“It’s for the best. Do you want us to come up? Fred can get time off.”

“No, no. ‘m ‘kay.”

“Are you sure, sweetheart?”

“I’ll probably go back to uni tomorrow.” He mumbled. “Don’t want you wasting your time.”

"Don't be silly. It's not a waste of time." She sighed. "I wish you were down here."

“I’m fine.”

"You sound it." She winced as he started coughing again. "Why don't you get some rest? Call me later?"

“Yeah. I will. Love you.” He said roughly. 

Sheila hung up after a few more insistences for him to rest up and look after himself. He really sounded awful, and as soon as Fred got in, told him so. Sheila worried about everything and everyone, it was just who she was, but Fred's phonecall to Fao later in the day made him worry.

He made his mind up quickly enough, putting in leave at the University and sending the homework out instead. The trains were simple enough, and he was on his way to Fao's by teatime.

He hailed a taxi from the station, aware Fao would be asleep, and wanting to let him rest as long as he could. Only outside the door did he knock, and, on second thoughts, rang his mobile.

Fao had finally managed to sleep after tossing and turning for hours, when his phone rang. Again. No doubt it was Sheila fussing, Fred having told her he sounded bad. Of course he sounded bad, he was sick. He’d get better with rest. So long as they stopped fucking calling him.  

Rolling over, he saw it was Fred calling, and groaned. 

“Yeah?” He asked, coughing as he rolled back onto his back. “M tryin’ to sleep.”

"Can you come unlock the front door?"

Fao frowned. “Why?”

"Because it's bloody cold out here."

“What?”

"Just come let me in, will you?"

Confused, Fao forced himself out of bed and to the front door, dragging a hand through his hair. He opened the door, frowning at the figure that greeted him on the other side. 

“Fred?”

"Sorry it's so late. It was the first train I could get."

“But? Why are you…? Is everyone okay?”

"Everyone except you." He said. "You sounded so rough on the phone earlier.'

“I’ve got a cold. I’m fine.”

He hummed. "Still, I'm here now. Are you going back to bed?"

“Mm. It’s the middle of the night.” Fao grumbled. “Are you stayin’?”

"Not quite the middle. I can get a hotel room."

“Feels like it.” He said, shivering. “You can stay ‘ere.”

"Come on, back to bed." He murmured, shepherding him through. "You need your rest."

“I was tryin’ to rest.” He protested. 

"I know, I'm sorry."

Fao paused, and then turned to face his adoptive father. He wrapped his arms around him, sighing. “Thank you.”

Fred squeezed him back. "You're welcome, kiddo."

“You gonna stay here?” He asked, his voice muffled.

"Yeah, someone's gotta look after you."

“Mm. ‘m an adult. Can look after myself.” He grumbled, but it held no heat. He finally let go and slunk off to bed, curling up under the duvet again. 

Fred let him go, heading to the kitchen. He figured he might as well get a start on the cooking, so Fao would have something for the next day.

When Fao woke the next morning, he still felt awful. As soon as he sat up he was wracked by a coughing fit that he couldn’t stop, and with a frustrated grumble he managed to force down some water. He wanted a cigarette, but he’d never manage with the way his chest was, and instead he padded into the kitchen to make himself a cup of tea. 

Determined, Fred had been up a few hours before Fao stirred, finishing off the day's food and packing plenty more for the freezer. He glanced up as Fao walked in, giving him a small smile.

"Morning."

Fao cleared his throat. “Mornin’.” He said, his voice close to a hoarse whisper. 

"Kettle hasn't long boiled."

Fao hummed, reaching for his favourite mug. “Mum send you?” 

"No, she wanted to come up though."

“‘kay.”

"Couldn't get time off with Finn, and you know what he's like."

Fao shrugged, trying to save his voice as he made his tea. 

"I'll make you breakfast, go sit down."

“Not hungry.” He rasped, turning away to cough again, gripping the kitchen counter. 

"You need something."

Fao didn’t have the energy to argue, and he certainly didn’t have the voice to either. Instead he shuffled to the sofa, curling up under a blanket with his tea. 

Fred watched him go, shaking his head. He returned to the stove, and started on Fao's breakfast, some scrambled eggs and orange juice. Once finished, he headed through to the living room, passing Fao's breakfast before sitting next to him - the soup was pretty much finished. 

Fao took it, though he still wasn't really hungry. He picked at it, finishing the orange juice, and then curled into Fred with a sniff and a sigh. 

"Oh, son. You just feel rotten, eh?" He wrapped his arm around Fao. "I've made lunch and tea, and I've frozen a few weeks worth for you, too. Just some soup for today, an old recipe my mum used to make. Meant to fix anything, she said. Hopefully it helps with your cold."

Everyone knew Fred's soup was the best, and Fao hummed happily. “Thank you.” He rasped, his voice cracking. 

"You're welcome, kid. We'll sort you out."

He dozed off against Fred, content and still exhausted. It was easy to feel safe with him around. 

They stayed like that for a while, comfortable and relaxed, until Fao stirred just after lunch time. His voice had completely crapped out on him by then, a scratchy whispery mess, but Fred didn’t seem to mind. Instead, he offered Fao another cup of tea, with honey and lemon, and a steaming bowl of chicken soup.

It was perfect. Warm and filling and so so soothing. It eased Fao’s sore throat, stopped his cough just for a while. Fred’s mum clearly had been right - it could fix everything. Alongside a couple of cold meds, Fao was feeling better by late afternoon, though his voice was still gone. At least his head wasn’t pounding so much, he wasn’t constantly coughing and making his chest sore. He might be a medical student, but there was nothing like a home remedy to make you feel better. 

It was more than just the soup, too. The fact that Fred had travelled up to see him, spend time with him, cooked him a family recipe just to make him feel better. Fao knew he was lucky to have such a good adoptive family, but even then he sometimes doubted his place with them. 

There was no denying that he was part of the family today. 

He curled up back on the sofa with Fred’s arm around him, and the TV on playing some daft old movie that Fred decided was the best film ever made. Fao didn’t mind, it was easy enough to fall asleep to. He was just enjoying feeling loved. 

[lemonlillybee]

Sicktember Day 9: Feed a Cold, Starve a Fever

Sicktember Day 9

Read on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/41597673

Title: Feed a Cold, Starve a Fever

Prompt: Home remedy

Fandom: Spider-Man (MCU)

Word Count: 2222 (Yes I added one more word to get that number)

A/N: Another day, another @sicktember fic :)

“It’s just a cold!” Peter crosses his arms, then quickly uncrosses them to cover his mouth to cough, the sound echoing in the room and making Peter blush. Tony sighs and hands him a glass of water. 

“Peter, you’re not going out patrolling when you’re sick. That’s final.”

“Sick?” A thunderous voice echoes throughout the penthouse, and Peter twists around to see Thor. 

“N-no, I…I’m fine,” he insists, face flushing an even deeper shade of red. 

“What you need is a cure!” Thor continues, coming around the couch to stand in front of Peter, hands on his hips and his chest puffed out. “On Asgard, my mother used to make a soup of lizard’s tail and turnip–” 

“I’m gonna stop you right there, Point Break. He doesn’t need some remedy from another planet. Just some good old fashioned rest and fluids.” 

“Of course, I never needed such a cure, but Loki was sickly as a child.”

“That is entirely untrue,” comes a reply from behind them, and Tony whips around, startled, to see Loki lurking in the doorway. 

“Jeez, god of creepiness, a little warning next time?” Tony throws his hands up in the air. 

Peter rubs at his eyes tiredly with a fist, sniffling. “Sorry, he was quiet. I just heard him come in a couple seconds ago.”

Loki smirks. “You forget to mention, brother, that you are supposed to remove the tail from the lizard when it is still alive to be fully effective,” he continues, far too cheerful for Tony’s liking. Tony glares at Loki, then gestures impatiently at Thor when Peter coughs again.  

“Thor, get him the hell out of here!” 

Thor nods before reaching out to clap Peter on the shoulder, shaking the whole couch and sending Peter into a coughing fit.

“Be well, Peter.” 

“Thanks,” Peter croaks out, eyes watering.

After they leave, Tony refills Peter’s water glass and grabs a box of tissues. Peter rolls his eyes, but drinks the water, then lies down and lets Tony tuck a blanket around him. He keeps the box of tissues close, feeling increasingly congested, and is grateful for them as he sniffles and sneezes his way through a TV show while Tony tinkers about the common room, trying and failing to appear as though he’s not hovering.  

Peter is starting to drift off when he hears Clint and Natasha bickering in the elevator before they arrive, and he pushes himself back up into a sitting position, trying to quickly wipe his nose with a tissue before the elevator doors open.

“You’ll pay for that!” Clint cries, pouting at Natasha’s back as he follows her over to the living room.

“In your dreams, Barton.” 

“Whoa! You look like shit, Peter,” Clint says, stopping short when he catches sight of the younger man.

“It’s just a cold,” Peter shrugs, fighting a smile when Natasha punches Clint in the arm.

“Rude,” she scolds him before turning her attention to Peter, expression softening. “You poor thing.” 

Peter drops his eyes to his lap, then glances over at Tony, who’s in the kitchen pouring a glass of juice. Clint rubs his arm, glaring at Natasha before he turns back to Peter. 

“All you need is a little vapor rub and you’ll be fine. I use it on the kids when–”  

“No!” Tony interrupts from the kitchen, and all three of them look over, eyes wide at his outburst. “No…none of that stuff. We’ve tried that before and let’s just say, it worked a little too well,” he smirks, and Peter blushes.

“You need some garlic,” Natasha suggests. “Garlic cures everything.”

Peter raises an eyebrow skeptically, but again, Tony shakes his head. 

“No, nope, no way. Garlic doesn’t really sit well with his whole…spider-thing,” he explains. Natasha and Clint look at each other, rolling their eyes, then turn to Tony.

“Then what do you suggest, genius?” Clint asks, crossing his arms.

“Rest and fluids,” Tony replies confidently, holding up a glass of green juice. After a beat, he motions toward the door. “That means you two are free to go, by the way. So we can do the part where he rests.” 

“Damn, Peter, your Dad is really protective of you when you’re sick,” Clint chuckles under his breath, winking at Peter before he and Natasha leave, and Peter makes a choked sound that turns into a cough at the comment. 

“Here,” Tony says, handing him the green juice when he recovers, laughing softly when Peter eyes it warily. “Trust me, it tastes better than it looks. Just a little boost for your immune system.” 

“I shouldn’t need a boost for my immune system,” Peter grumbles. He tries to smell the juice, but he’s too congested to smell anything, so he shrugs and takes a deep breath before chugging the contents of the glass. The cool liquid feels good on his throat and Tony is right about the taste.

The rest of the evening passes in a blur of uncomfortable congestion and a sudden, heavy fatigue that washes over him. When he refuses dinner, he feels Tony’s hand on his forehead, his skin cool against his hot face, and when Tony sends him to bed before 8 p.m., he’s far too tired to protest. Even though he feels hot, he shivers when he gets into his bed, sighing in relief when Tony pulls the comforter over him. The last thing he feels before he falls asleep in Tony’s hand on his forehead again.

Peter only sleeps for two hours before he’s awake again. His throat is sore and his mouth is dry, and he gratefully drinks the water that Tony left on his nightstand. For the next several hours, he drifts in and out of fitful sleep. The next time he looks at the clock, it’s five in the morning, and he groans in frustration, the sound hoarse and congested. Down the hall, he can hear someone moving around in the kitchen, and then the rustling of paper. With another groan, he sits up, wincing when the motion makes his head pound. 

He desperately needs more water, so he decides to go out to the kitchen and see who’s up. He pads down the hallway and finds Bruce sitting at the table reading the newspaper. Bruce looks up, a smile spreading across his face at the sight of him.

“Good morning, Peter! You’re up awfully early.” He pauses, narrowing his eyes as he takes in Peter’s disheveled appearance and frowning when he has to suddenly turn to the crook of his elbow to cough. “You’re sick.” 

“It’s just a cold.” Peter clears his throat and sniffles. His shoulders drop. “I can’t sleep.” 

“Sleep is the most important thing you can do when you’re ill,” Bruce says, standing up. “Even when it’s ‘just’ a cold.” 

Peter gives him a small smile. “You sound like Tony”

Bruce laughs, the tone low and gentle. He points to a chair, and Peter sits at the table, letting his head rest on his folded arms while Bruce moves around the kitchen. Soon, something is placed in front of him, and he looks up to see a mug of steaming tea.

“Drink up,” Bruce says, sitting back down across from him and picking up his newspaper. He reads for a few silent minutes before peering over the top of his newspaper, watching Peter sip the drink with a frown. 

Peter’s so tired he doesn’t notice the scientist watching him. He cups both hands around the warm mug, sniffling and clearing his throat intermittently, breathing heavily through his mouth when he’s not taking a drink of the tea. Bruce notices that he’s shivering slightly, his eyelids drooping, and when Peter starts to yawn, Bruce pushes his chair back from the table.

“Okay,” Bruce sighs. “Let’s get you back to bed.” He motions for Peter to stand, and he leads him back to his room, where Peter falls into bed with a grunt. Bruce waits in the doorway while he gets settled back under the covers, then closes the door softly. Peter closes his eyes and listens to Bruce’s footsteps as he retreats down the hall.

“Good morning,” he hears Bruce say as he heads back to the common room, and smiles when he hears Tony’s voice in response. 

“Is Peter okay?”

“He just went back to bed. He couldn’t sleep, so I made him some tea. Hopefully he’ll be able to get some rest now.”

“Thank you,” Tony says, but Peter doesn’t catch the rest of his reply, too sleepy to eavesdrop further. He closes his eyes and lets the exhaustion pull him under.

When Peter wakes up again, the sun is up, and he stretches, feeling marginally better, if still incredibly tired. The rest of the Tower is fairly quiet, but he can hear the faint sound of what is unmistakably Tony’s heartbeat, along with the low murmur of a news station on the TV and the coffee pot whirring. He’s thirsty again, and his stomach growls loudly. Nothing actually sounds appetizing, but he’s sure Tony will at least have some more green juice for him, or maybe a piece of toast.  

He makes his way down the hall and sees Tony sitting at the kitchen counter scrolling through emails on his phone. 

“Hey,” Tony greets him. “How are you feeling?”

Peter shrugs, then pulls his sleeves down over his hands and brings them up to his face, sneezing twice in reply. 

“That good, huh?” Tony chuckles, but Peter is looking to his right, toward the elevator. A few moments later the elevator doors open with a ding.

“Hey, Pete! Heard you were sick,” Rhodey says, stepping off the elevator. 

Peter glances at Tony, face growing hot from more than just the fever, and mumbles, “It’s just a cold.”

“Well, that’s why I brought you chicken noodle soup!” He holds up a bag from the deli down the street. “Trust me, this will have you better in no time. There’s no better cure.”

Peter’s stomach growls again, and Tony and Rhodey laugh. They sit at the table, Peter quiet while Tony and Rhodey chat. As he eats, Peter suddenly feels more tired than before, and he’s yawning before he even finishes his bowl of soup. Tony and Rhodey exchange glances, having a full conversation without words, and soon Rhodey is clearing the table, claiming he needs to get going for a meeting. 

“Take care of yourself, Peter,” he says, patting Peter’s shoulder before heading to the elevator. 

“Thanks,” Peter says hoarsely. He coughs, propping his elbow on the table and letting his head rest in his hand. He feels like he could fall asleep sitting up at the table, but Tony suggests they watch TV in the living room, and Peter is happy to claim the spot on the couch he’d been in yesterday afternoon, letting Tony tuck the blankets around him again. 

They’re sitting on the couch watching TV together, Peter dozing off, when Steve enters the room. 

“Tony. Peter.” He nods at each of them, but when Peter tries to clear his throat and return the greeting he ends up in a fit of coughing instead.

“That’s a hell of a cough, Peter. Are you ill?”

“It’s just a cold,” Peter mumbles for what feels like the hundredth time today, sniffling and feeling suddenly very small as Steve approaches him, muscular arms crossed over his chest. 

“Well, you know what they say. Feed a cold, starve a fever.”

Tony snorts. “It’s not the ‘40s, Steve, no one says that anymore. Besides, he has a fever, too.”

Peter sputters in protest, shooting Tony a betrayed scowl and biting back another cough. 

“Oh.” Steve’s face softens, and he clears his throat. “I hope you feel better soon, Peter.”

“Thanks,” Peter whispers, voice nearly giving out with the word. Steve nods, then sits in the chair next to the couch, and Peter feels himself tense up, still unsure of where exactly he stands with the super soldier. Tony puts a hand on his back, pressing between his shoulder blades, and he relaxes slightly.

After a few minutes of silence, Steve looks over. He clears his throat again, waiting until Peter meets his eyes to speak. “You know, I think it would be better advice to tell you to get plenty of rest and–” 

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” Peter huffs, then coughs. “Rest and fluids. You sound just like my da– like Tony.” 

Tony snorts, and Peter ‘s eyes widen, but then Steve is laughing and Tony is laughing and he can’t help but join in, even though it ends up making him cough more. Tony rubs his back until the coughing subsides, and Steve goes to the kitchen to fill a glass of water for him.

“You both know I’m right. I’m keeping Peter well hydrated and you can’t stop me.” Tony takes the water from Steve, nodding his thanks before helping Peter sit up to drink. When he finishes the water, Tony gently nudges him back down and adjusts the blanket around his shoulders. 

“See? Fluids. Now, rest,” he orders, and Peter grunts, but he closes his eyes and lets himself fully relax. It’s not long until he nods off, the sound of the TV lulling him to sleep as Tony rubs gentle, warm circles on his back.