Chapter Text
Peter hummed, skipping towards the lab with a bright grin on his face. His new web-shooter formula was almost ready - hopefully. Honestly, who knew? There were usually last-minute setbacks. But he had a good feeling about this formula.
He pushed into the lab, automatically swinging his backpack to the corner where it would surely be left until the early hours of the morning. Then he froze, heart skipping a beat.
Something was wrong. He paused, frowning. Not dangerous-wrong. Just.. wrong.
Then he caught it - a faint whimper barely audible over the rumbling sound of whatever Mr. Stark was working on.
Peter sprinted. "Mr. Stark!" he shouted, expecting the man to be injured. Possibly bleeding out. What would he do, he wasn-
Peter stopped dead as he came round the corner, his brain taking a moment to catch up with what his eyes were seeing. Mr. Stark was sitting against his workbench, knees up to his chest. His hands pressed tightly against his ears, shaking violently. He was staring forward eyes darting back and forth between rapid, haggard breaths.
"Mr. Stark?" Peter began. "Mr. Stark are you alright?"
He didn't respond. Unsurprisingly, Peter realises after a moment.
Peter felt panic flood through him. What was going on? What should he do? What-
Please don't be dying. Don't die on me.
'No. Stop it.' he told himself firmly. 'Not helping.'
He took a deep breath, and refocused on Mr. Stark. "JARVIS.. What's happening?"
"Mr. Stark is experiencing a severe panic attack, sir."
Peter felt his heart break a little. Tony Stark was supposed to be strong. Brilliant. Invincible, right? How had he missed this?
He crouched down to Mr. Stark's level, and began slowly shuffling around him in a circle, hoping to get into the man's line of sight without startling him.
Mr. Stark's eyes landed on him, and the man flinched back, violently, letting out a heart-wrenching whimper as he tucked his head down into his knees.
"Mr. Stark. Mr. Stark. Uh- Tony. It's me. It's Peter. You're okay, Mr. Stark. You're safe."
Peter wasn't sure if Tony could hear him, though; his hands were so thoroughly pressed into the sides of his head. Peter frowned, then slowly backed away, moving around Tony's desk before standing and grabbing the device he had been working on, looking for a power button. Maybe the rumbling of the device was a problem?
Peter examined it closely. It was a circular metal ring, a bit bigger than a clock, and had a grey misty sort-of-fog around the ring on the inside, which swirled in slow circles around a pitch black center. It made Peter think of storm clouds circling around a void. Frowning when he found no power button, he simply unplugged it, causing sparks to shoot from the socket.
He winced slightly as the machine powered down, the black void disappearing with a slight pop. Hopefully it would still work when plugged back in. It was one of the coolest things he'd seen.
Tony's whimpering was much easier to hear now, as were his hammering heart and short, shallow breaths. Peter bit his lip, and moved back around the workbench, to where Tony still hadn't moved.
"Mr- Tony." He crouched down again, but the man had his eyes closed. He hesitated for a second before shuffling forward and placing a gentle hand on Mr. Stark's knee.
Tony flinched again, his head colliding loudly with the metal bench as he whipped it up, looking for a threat.
Peter looked calmly at him, forcing his expression not to betray the storm of emotion he was feeling. Their eyes connected, and Peter began to breathe in large, slow, exaggerated breaths, miming with the hand that wasn't on Tony's knee what he was doing.
He smiled as Tony began to mimic him - sort of - and nodded encouragingly. Slowly, Tony lowered his hands from his ears. "Breathe, Tony. Well done. You're alright. You're safe. You're in your lab. Good job. Just breathe with me."
Peter carefully reached out, and picked up one of Mr. Stark's trembling hands, smiling as he felt the tremors lessen with every breath, until he didn't shake at all.
Peter saw the moment Mr. Stark realized what had just happened. His eyes widened slightly, and he jerked his hand back from Peter.
He coughed awkwardly, then stood up, spinning to face away from Peter, placing his hands on the workbench as he leaned on it heavily.
"Mr. Stark-"
"Kid."
"Mr. Stark- I- Are you okay?"
"You shouldn’t have to… see that. It’s not—your job. Dealing with me. Like that."
"Mr. Stark it's okay. I don't mind. Really. Do you - do you want me to get you some water or something? Are you sure you're okay?"
Tony's knuckles whitened slightly on the table, and he looked around at Peter. "No! - Uh. Yes. Yes please. And I'm fine. Really. Not- not the first time that's happened."
Peter studied him carefully. "Do you want to go watch a movie or something?"
Mr. Stark hesitated for a second, before pulling himself up straight. "Yeah. Sure thing kiddo. Sounds good."
They headed up the stairs.
"Do you want to talk about it? Mr. Stark?"
Mr. Stark raised an eyebrow at Peter, who ducked his head, embarrassed.
He let out a breathy laugh. "No, kid, I'm good. Princess Bride?"
Peter nodded. "Sure! Sounds good Mr. Stark!"