Peter woke up with his alarm. He went down the stairs of Avengers Tower and ate several pancakes and sausages. He didn't usually eat anything for breakfast, but he knew that if he didn't eat, he was a lot more likely to overwork himself and get sick. Happy drove him to school, and when he got to Midtown High, he actually checked both ways down the street instead of rushing across like he usually did, relying on his Spidey-senses to warn him if there was a car. He went through the whole day uneventfully, and even that evening, when he went out patrolling, he was careful to not take any unnecessary risks, instead webbing up criminals from far in the air, where he couldn't be reached by guns or anything else. He even went so far as to reenter Stark tower by the front door, instead of just climbing in through the window like normal. He went to bed almost as soon as he got back, only stopping to text Aunt May and see what was happening on her business trip. One day down, only six more to go.

The next three days went mostly the same, with nothing eventful whatsoever. But then Thursday, he almost lost the bet when he was patrolling and someone launched a beer can off a roof. Peter's Spidey-senses warned him just in time, and he was able to launch a web at it so it didn't smack into his skull and give him a concussion. He did get a tiny bit of beer on him, but as long as he didn't get hit, then everything was fine. Friday, Peter stopped by the the apartment to make sure everything was still good while May was gone, and then he stopped by the deli to get his favorite sandwich. He chatted for a bit, and petted the cat—making sure his claws weren't out, of course. Only one more day to go, and then he would finally have his awesome homework robot. It wasn't for him, he was way too smart to need a robot to help him do his homework, but he did know a lot of people who needed help. Since he was too busy to tutor everyone, the robot would be the next best thing for the public library.

Peter settled into bed, feeling completely smug. See, Mr. Stark, he could be careful. He wouldn't admit it him, but it had been pretty nice to not have a single Medbay visit this week. Maybe he should be careful more often? Nah, he thought. He was only a teenager once, that was what these years were for. He would try not to be reckless, but he wasn't going to turn into any kind of freaking Captain America or anything. With this in mind, he settled into sleep.

And... he woke up the next morning with a headache. "Urghhhhh." He moaned angrily into his pillow. Why did God actually hate him? This couldn't have waited one more freaking day? He had been so good this week, eating what he was supposed to, sleeping when he was supposed to, he thought the bet was all but won. But no...

Wait! He didn't think Tony had ever fully reinstated FRIDAY after he had hacked it the last time. His headache wasn't that bad, he would fake his way through it. He put on a cheery smile and grabbed an apple for breakfast. He sent a quick text to his mentor, thankful that Tony spent way too much time in the lab, and also thankful that it wasn't Steve's day to cook. Steve had always been able to see through him way too easily. "Hey Mr. Stark! I slept in a bit, so I'm going to go ahead and swing to school, okay?" He didn't wait for a reply, but instead ran out the door.

Once in downtown New York, he swung from building to building. He loved it up here, and the fresh air was helping to clear his head. It was probably just drowsiness, not actual sickness. He refused to give into it.

But once he was in school, the headache only got worse. Peter kept rubbing his temples, willing it to go away. Ned noticed and whispered to him, "See, I told you you wouldn't win the bet."

"Shut up, Ned. I'm gonna fake it, okay. I want that robot." He hissed back.

Ned gave him a look, but didn't press him further. "Just saying, if it actually is something, make sure you don't ignore it. A bet's not worth hurting yourself even more."

"Whatever." Peter rolled his eyes and went back to trying to focus on the details of the War of 1812 over the pounding behind his eyes.

Before the end of school, his headache had gotten so bad that Peter could barely walk. He didn't want to ride back to the Tower with Happy, knowing that the man would tell Tony he wasn't feeling well, but he also couldn't swing back, for as soon as he put on the suit, Karen would update Tony with all of his vitals, and the ruse would be over. Peter decided to keep faking. He put on the brightest smile he possibly could and opened the back door of Happy's sedan. "Hey, Happy! Do you want to hear about my Spanish test? Or maybe you want to hear about MJ? She liked my Instagram post today. And then Ned's neighbor got these new puppies, and on Saturday, I'm going over to see them, and— Hey! What are you doing?" He asked as Happy rolled up the tinted glass between them. He kept up the ruse, looking mad and tapping on the glass before flopping back down to the seat. That was exactly what he hoped would happen. Now, Happy wouldn't bother him for the entire ride home, and he wouldn't get ratted out.

Once in the tower, he quickly escaped to his room, pleading a lot of homework. And he did have a lot of homework. It normally wouldn't have been too bad, but his headache made him dizzy and unfocused. He even found himself having to redo math problems—they were only simple Polynomial factors, he shouldn't be struggling this much. After finishing the entire math problem set, writing his history draft, he started on Spanish. He had to translate a bunch of stupid articles. The first one was about a gorilla-man who stabbed someone with a needle on Halloween? What the hell? He knew he must really be sick then, for surely no one would ever write something like this. He checked the translation again, but got the same result. Ugh, it was too late for this. He rubbed his eyes and spoke. "Hey FRIDAY, what time is it?"

"It is 12:30 am, Mr. Parker, and past your curfew. I am calling Mr. Stark now."

"Nononono, FRIDAY, don't do that!" He stood up from his chair quickly, which set his head spinning. He grabbed the chair to steady himself, and was still standing like that when Mr. Stark came in.

Peter put on a smile and let go of the chair, clenching his knees tight to try and keep him from falling over. "He-Hey Mr. Stark!" He forced casualness into his tone.

"Peter, whats up? You need to go to bed. I can tell that look of happiness is faked."

"It's past midnight, so that means I win the bet, don't I?" Peter asked, keeping the nonchalance.

"Yeah, yeah, sure kid. As long as you go to sleep right now!"

"Okay, Mr. Stark." Peter said feebly, and then he fainted.