Chapter Text
No matter what was happening, Peter had to keep reminding himself to breathe. No one was here to catch him this time. He had to deal with this all on his own. Yet no matter how hard he tried to reinforce this narrative into his brain, it didn’t stick. He couldn’t remember his breathing strategies, he couldn’t remember his coping skills, he couldn’t remember how to even reach his shaky hands out for his phone. His mind was blank. And this sudden realization was killing him.
“Breathe,” He whispered to himself. He couldn’t pass out here . Not in the laundry room of all places. How weird would that look when Mr. Stark- Tony, came home to find the half arachnid unconscious? But what choice did he have but to let himself succumb to his brain's state of worry? He wanted to stop thinking about Skip more than anything. His hands, his words, the way he moved like he was unbreakable. It was all becoming too much. And to this day, he still refused to tell anyone.
Suddenly, fingers were placed on his temples. His first reaction was to flinch away, but when a wave of calm washed over him, he stayed put. He could finally breathe. He could finally think clearly. He took a moment before opening his eyes. There stood a girl that looked to be around his age. Her hair was red like a fox, and her eyes were swimming with a black murkiness. He could hear footsteps approaching and looked to the door.
“Hey, Wanda, you can’t just go running off like that. You’re so quiet I didn’t hear you slip away.” Tony was out of breath and chuckled awkwardly. He noticed the closeness of the two teens and flashed a curious look at the both of them.
“Your son was having a panic attack. I fixed it.” Peter almost corrected her when she called him Tony’s son. Peter was just a foster kid that got lucky. When he started swinging around the city as his alter-ego in glorified pajamas, he was lucky that Tony had gotten to him when he did. He took him under his wing and better yet, he took him in . After figuring out that the foster home was less than satisfactory, Tony was quick to get a social worker who could make him a guardian of the boy. Peter didn’t have anybody and Tony just wanted to be that somebody. He grew even more attached to Peter when he finally got close enough for him to start opening up to him. They laughed, they joked, they listened to music, they shared a mutual love for science, they watched shitty movies and had inside jokes. Tony felt like he was making his own little family. Peter felt the same. It still felt surreal that he was even living with the billionaire, but really didn’t want to have it any other way. He still referred to him as “Mr. Stark” (even though Tony absolutely hated it) and he still treated the house like it was more of a hotel. He hadn’t fully adjusted, but he was really trying.
“Panic attack? Pete, are you alright?” He always got like this when Peter had panic attacks. And while it was sweet, Peter was still learning to accept that those small gestures of concern were genuine and that there was no ulterior motive behind them.
“I’m fine, really,” He stood and brushed invisible dust off of his pants. “Um, who’s this?”
“Right!” Tony clapped his hands together and turned to walk to the living room. Peter and Wanda eyed each other before shrugging and following the eccentric man. They both took seats on the couch as Tony continued to stand. “Peter, this is Wanda. Wanda, this is Peter. I met her on the last mission in Sokovia. She’s gonna be living here with us for a couple of months while S.H.I.E.l.D ties up some loose ends. They wanted to get her out of the country for a while so she could take a breather from everything going on over there. She can do cool mind stuff that was not so cool when we first met her, but she’s one of the good guys- girls- whatever.”
To say that Peter was confused would be the understatement of the century. Tony did many things that threw Peter for a loop, but this one had to take the cake. That thought made him chuckle to himself.
She turned to him. “I am Wanda Maximoff. I am sixteen. I am from Sokovia as your father mentioned. My family is dead. I am the only one left. Stay away from me and I will stay away from you,” She turned to Tony while grabbing her backpack. “Where is my room?” He pointed as F.R.I.D.A.Y. lit blue arrows down the hallway. Peter and Tony were frozen for a bit.
“Alrighty. Wow.” Peter said.
“Yeah, I know. Look, I know that she seems cold, but that’s just because she’s from a cold little land,” Peter chuckled as Tony took a seat. “Just give her some time. She’s lost her parents and her twin brother. It’s probably going to take her some time to get used to us. Especially when she didn’t really want to come with me in the first place.”
Peter gasped dramatically while clutching his shirt. “Someone didn’t want to spend their time with you ? The Tony Stark?”
“Hardy har har,” he paused for a moment before continuing. “Do you want to talk about the panic attack?”
“Nope. I’m fine. Everything’s fine. But thanks though. See you for dinner.” He rushed to his bedroom without looking back.
Tony sighed in exasperation. “And then there was one.”