(IK THIS PIC HAS NOTHING TO DO WITH THE TOPIC, HE LOOKS PALE, AND I THOUGHT IT WORKED)
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Peter Parker never gets sick. He hasn't got sick since the spider bite, unless it's been something serious. Never a general cold. So, when he woke up with a harsh pounding in the back of his head, he knew he was getting a headache... and a nasty one at that. He sat up, before nearly falling back down again with how much his room spun and tilted on one side. His stomach churned at the un-natural feeling, before settling down again. He slowly edged himself up from his elbows, a lot slower this time, before getting dressed and shuffling down the stairs to the kitchen. "Morning Peter. Sleep well?" May said to him, with out turning her back. Peter said nothing, fearing his throat would break if he spoke, it was that sore. "You ok?" May said, now facing him. "Yeah." He near enough whispered. "Just a sore throat." May didn't seem convinced, but let it slide anyway. "Ok. Well, I'm gonna be working a little later today, and here is your lunch. Have a nice day sweetie." She handed Peter a small brown paper bag, and left in a hurry. When Peter was sure she'd left, he let out a loud groan, letting his head fall onto the table.
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Peter's head only increased in pain when he got to school. Flash thought it would funny if he slammed Peter's head into the lockers. Unintentionally, Peter groaned. Flash felt a flash of pride and did it again. Peter's world darkened, but not from the blows, although they probably didn't help. He slid down the lockers in a heap, and clutched his heads with a new ferocity that surprised even him. Flash left and Ned came running to him. He grasped his forearms, and hauled Peter up. Peter got out some tablets that May left out and swallowed 4. 2 did nothing, much less 4. Before they had chance to work, his metabolism burnt through them. They walked into Spanish class, and Peter got a very strong scent of strawberry perfume, making his head 10x worse, and a spike of nausea to invade his body. He wrapped an arm around his stomach, and raised a hand. The teacher came over and crouched beside him. "Senor, I think I'm going to be sick." Peter whispered, the nausea getting worse. Saliva had pooled in his mouth, twice now. Senor Gomez nodded and gave him a pass, "Go on then. I'll send someone down with your stuff." Peter didn't need to be told twice, before he was out the class. He just about made it into the bathroom, before his stomach decided to evacuate. He leant over the toilet and retched. It hurt. Nothing happened. He felt the muscles in his torso move in an upwards motion, and he retched again. This time, as he heaved he felt something climb up the back of his throat. He was nearly crying. The pain in his stomach combined with the pain in his head made everything worse. When he felt better-if only by a 1/1000-he stumbled towards the office. He bumped, literally, into MJ on the way and nearly fell. Black spots filled his vision. He felt a hand on his arm, holding. He shook it away, mumbling that he was fine and didn't need help. MJ left him to it and before he could get to the office, the pain in his head spiked again and he passed out from the sheer amount of agony.
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When he came to, he was in a bed with Tony Stark running his fingers through Peter's hair. His cool fingers making the teen sigh in relief. Tony smiled to himself, despite it all and layed his hand on the head. Peter almost cried with the pain being lifted. "Why didn't you tell anyone, kid?" Peter shrugged... or tried to. "I was fine." Tony rolled his eyes about to run into a lecture, but stopped when he realised Peter had passed out. He placed an ice-cold gel pad on his head and left, leaving some water and ice next to him, if he woke up without Tony.

Peter reminded Tony so much about himself, and he smiled to himself fondly.