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It was still early but Peter had been eager to get out of bed. He always was when he would be going to the lab that day. There had to be nothing more exciting for the kid than tinkering the day away with the closest thing he had to a dad. It felt like he had a complete life again. A dad, a job, friends, something to be proud of. The thing he had been chasing for years was right there, in the lab of Tony Stark.
The anticipation of spending time with his dad (he would never, ever tell him that he felt this way) always made him jump out of bed and almost run out the door, every other thought practically flying out the window. Tony wasn’t really the same. The thing was not that he didn’t like having the kid over – he actually liked it more than he would ever admit – his worries just didn’t leave that easy.
Unfortunately, Pepper did. She had to go on a business trip (because Tony didn’t feel like it) and didn’t answer her phone. It started as nothing, just him wanting to check up on her. She was supposed to land in London about half an hour ago but he hadn’t heard from her yet. She probably just forgot to call, he thought. So he called her. She didn’t answer.
Okay, this is fine, he told himself, feeling anxiety ripple through the pit of his stomach. The flight was probably just delayed and she was in the air right now. He knew how fast that could happen, with all the stress at airports it wasn’t unusual for a flight to get delayed, even the private ones. But then there it was, the little voice of anxiety in the back of his head. It seemed like the little demon had just been waiting all day to come out and frighten Tony. And hell, was it good at that.
What if the flight wasn’t delayed? What if something happened? The plane crashed. Pepper had a car crash on her way to the airport. Pepper had a car crash on her way to the hotel. Someone kidnapped her at the airport.
Memories of previous events flashed through his mind. Things like that couldn’t happen again. Tony wanted to make sure of that. He promised it. Not to Pepper, but to himself. Never again would she have to suffer like that, because of him or because of anybody else, never again would he have to see her in so much pain, he promised, he promised, he promised.
-
Peter didn’t see the curled up man at first. The room that was usually filled with noises of Tony talking to Friday, DUM-E; him fumbling with some new tech was now silent except for the heartbeat thrumming in Peter’s ears. He would recognize this heartbeat anywhere.
A few seconds later the silence of the room was filled with ragged breathing coming from behind a counter. He wasn’t sure whether he should just leave or walk over to where Tony must be sitting.
“M-Mister Stark?” Hesitantly Peter took a step into the room, looking around for any danger that could be the cause of Tony’s state. “Are you okay?” he asked when he got no response.
Neither the heartbeat nor the breathing slowed down. Cautiously Peter took a few more steps until he could round the counter, seeing his mentor curled up, trying to even out his breathing, not taking any notice of the kid’s presence.
Peter reached out a hand just to withdraw it again. The man didn’t even realize the movement above his head, looking straight forward with unfocused eyes. Peter didn’t want to startle him but it seemed inevitable now that he already stood in front of him.
“Mister Stark,” he all but whispered again, getting on his knees to be on eye level with him. Still, Tony gave no response. Peter laid a soft hand on his arm, squeezing it slightly when not even that got any reaction out of the man in front of him. “Can you breathe with me? Tony –“
His first name finally got him out of his trance-like state, his eyes snapping up at the child, filled to the rim with tears. “Tony,” Peter repeated, even softer than before. “Can you breathe for me? Nice, slow breaths. Okay? Can you do that for me?”
Tony managed to nod a little through his shaking, trying to even his breathing and synch it with Peter’s now slow and deep breaths. They sat like that for a while, Peter breathing slow and even, squeezing Tony’s arm every time he breathed in and let go every time he breathed out, the older man still shaking, his breaths slowly getting deeper and longer. Peter couldn’t figure out what to say, so he just ended up being silent, his breaths the only sound coming from his mouth.
Tony finally let his head loll backwards, letting exhaustion take him over, his eyelids falling shut. Peter just sat there, still holding him ever so softly, like he was scared the hero would break would he hold him too tightly. After a few moments of silence Tony dragged his head forward, opening his eyes a little to look at the kid.
“Thanks, Pete.” His voice was hoarse and raw but sincere. “I-I’m sorry you had to-“
“It’s alright Mister Stark, it really is. No need to apologize.” Peter’s hands were still resting on his arms, his thumbs drawing small, slow circles over the fabric of Tony’s sweater.
“No, no,” Tony insisted, gently pushing his hands off him. “You shouldn’t have to –“
“Mister Stark,” Peter interrupted him once again. “Just because you’re older than me doesn’t mean you can’t have weak moments too.”
Tony just stared at him for a second. “God, kid. Don’t go too soft on me. No need to be like my therapist and-“
His phone dinged where he dropped it, beside him on the floor. Plane was late. Good flight. Horrible weather. On my way to the hotel now.