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Tony was panicking.
The search party had been searching for almost an hour and still no sign of Peter.
The last sighting of him was over 4 hours ago when he was fighting an enhanced robber who ended up taking out all of the cameras in the building.
Leaving the Avengers with no trace of Peter since then.
He hadn’t gone home or to the tower, or any of his normal spots.
And Tony checked. All of them. He called Peter's friends, Aunt May, the school, Delmar’s Sandwiches, he even called Deadpool for Christs sake, but nobody knew where Peter or Spider-Man was.
“Tones? You good?” Tony hears distantly.
“Tony, you need to calm down,” Another voice.
“Take a break Tony, the rest of us will keep searching,” This voice was insane. Evil.
Take a break? Take a fucking break? When Peter is out there and nobody knows where he is?
If anything Tony needs to go faster, fly more, look in more places.
His breathing became shallow as his heart started pumping in his chest.
Iron Man kept flying.
Tony blinked a couple of times, trying to focus.
If he couldn’t focus, they would loose Peter.
His breathing intensified.
“Mr. Stark, you are having a panic attack. I recommend landing now to prevent harm to your person,” FRIDAY’s voice spoke evenly.
“No, Fri. If I stop then he dies. I can’t stop– I can’t– they’ll kill him. He’ll die in that cave. He’ll die alone and then I’ll have lost another person and I can’t do that— I can’t Fri,” Tony was full-on panting now. There was a ringing in his ears just barely drowning out the sound of his repulsers firing.
His mind was racing. Visions of Afghanistan but instead of him in the cave it’s Peter. With no Yinsen there to help.
The ringing is replaced with a heavy pounding. It may be soothing but it’s too fast and too irregular. It’s broken. Broken. Broken. Broken.
“Overriding flight controls.”
Broken like Peter will be, because Tony failed. Because Tony is failing him. Because Howard was right and Tony is a fucking failure.
Tony feels solid ground under his feet as the suit collapses around him.
Without the support of the suit, his knees buckle and he collapses.
There’s a loud (loud, loud, loud, everything is so loud) metallic clang behind him. Some clicking noise and then a voice.
“Tones? You good?”
Tony pants a little more, “Y-yeah. Fine. Fine. I’m fine.”
“Tony it’s okay,” Rhodey says, now sitting next to where Tony is sitting on his knees. “I’m gonna put my hand on your back, okay?”
The pounding is still there, but it’s a little slower. Still irregular to an annoying amount.
“I’m here Tones, it’s gonna be okay. Just match my breathing,” Rhodey takes Tony’s hand and puts it over his own chest.
Tony feels the rhythm for a moment, and then shakily starts to match it. Deep breath in, roughly three seconds. Hold for five. Release for three. It’s a painfully easy pattern to follow but it grounded him well.
“Cmon, Tones. Let’s head back to the tower.”
“Okay…”