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Who: Conan and Peter (and maybe others later)
Where: Medical Car
When: Evening of Apple Day 25
What: The cold of the last few days hadn't done Conan's terrible immune system any favors. He's coming down with a cold and heads to the the medical car in search of medicine.

It was probably inevitable.

Conan had gotten used to the seeming endless number of colds that had accompanied his return to childhood. And so when he feels the familiar feeling of a cold settle in to the back of his throat, he doesn't even bother to tell anyone. He heads straight for the medical car in hopes of finding some medicine to handle the worst of it.

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Conan felt more than a little alarm. Being new to the concept of multiple universes, the problem of varying immunities to the common cold hadn't occurred to him. Now that he was aware of it, he immediately puts an end to his objections.

"I'll stay," he says hoarsely as he tries to hold back another cough. "I don't want anyone else to get sick."

Off in the background, Peter just rolls his eyes and makes a vague 'oh come on' motion when Tony does exactly what he thought he would told Conan exactly how the concussion happened. So, he was a little excited about movies.

"And I've got cards so we can play like... go fish or something simple." Peter offers, as though Tony's going to let him hangout long enough the cold could possibly spread to Peter. Which Peter is pretty sure it can't because of his super metabolism.

Tony nods, appreciating that Conan was understanding their predicament. That didn't mean the older man didn't feel bad for the kid. He looks over at Peter as he rambles about games.

"If you stay in here, I expect you to wear a mask and wash your hands before you leave. Knowing your luck, he has a cold but somehow you'll come down with the plague and wipe us all out."

Turning back to the boy, he thinks for a moment. "How's your stomach? Think you can handle soup or maybe some tea?" He goes over to the medicine cabinet and checks around for what he could give the boy. It was hard given his size. "If you've had colds often, what does your guardians usually give you?"

"It isn't worth getting sick just to keep me entertained," Conan tells Peter.

He frowns." I think so? It's still just a head cold right now. And they usually gave me children's Bufferin. But any kind of cold medicine should work, as long as the dose is correct.

Peter just shrugs, pushing the pack of ice on his head still. He's still got a bit of a headache so he's not really up to being his usual completely energetic self.

"Ah, don't worry about that. I have a super metabolism-I can't even catch a cold anymore." Or at least, he hasn't since the Spider-bite. That probably means he can't catch one, right?

"It's a good thing we have a medical bay now-when we first got here we didn't."

"We don't know that!" Tony cut in when Peter was basically tempting fate to give him the worst cold that anyone ever had.

He looked at his watch and sighed. "What would you estimate your recovery for your head to be? Is it still bad enough that I should go get his tea?" He didn't want to make the kid have to be in here alone, at least not at first. Well, he might for a few minutes either way. He needed some bedding in here and to put Conan's old sheets in the wash.. ugh.

"Never mind. You wait here and I'll go take care of a few things. Peter, get a mask on. Conan, uh here." He takes one of the Bufferin pills and cuts it in half. He hands it over a piece to the kid. He also gets a glass from one of the cabinets and fills it with water. After that, he heads for the door to get some things to make this easier on the sick kiddo.

Conan had doubts whether an enhanced immune system actually made you immune to colds.

"Really? What happened when people got sick or injured?"

Conan takes the pill from Tony and grimaces at the pill a little before taking it.

Peter's sure that he definitely has a super immune system and has nothing to worry about.

"But I have a super metabolism. I mean, Captain America doesn't get sick." Peter points out. "Why would I?"

He leans back in the chair he's seated on and makes a face before pulling the ice pack off off his head a moment.

"I can handle making tea-it was just a mild concussion I'm-Whoa." He stands up and has to sit right back down again.

"I have no idea who Captain America is," Conan informs him. "Or why his health has anything to do with whether you can catch a cold."

Conan eyes him skeptically. "You should probably rest longer before you try that."

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