Chapter Text
“You’re not doing it right!”
“Come on kid, focus.”
“Isn’t that the whole point? I can’t focus.”
“The book said-“
“I don’t care!” Peter complained, clutching his hair with a force that looked painful.
Tony’s chest tightened, throwing the book aside and gathering the teen into his arms. He toppled against his chest, eyes still clenched shut and breathing hard through his teeth.
Gently, he pried Peter’s hands out of his hair and replaced them with his own, carding them through in smooth motions. “It’s okay, I’ve got you. Just listen to my voice, feel me breathing.”
He closed his eyes, resting his forehead on the crown of Peter’s head.
They’d been practising how to deal with overloads a lot lately, trying to figure out the best way to help Peter, but this was the worst it had been since his bond shock over a month ago. Tony thought he was onto something with the book he’d found, the breathing exercises had worked for smaller overloads, but this one was different.
He knew it was bad when Peter turned silent. There were three levels of Peter’s overloads Tony discovered: the lowest where the kid brushed it off as a headache and pretended he was fine, an in-between where he’d complain and actually be honest about the pain he was in and then this. Where he was in so much pain that he couldn’t do anything but suffer through it silently.
“You’re safe. I’ve got you. Breath with me, kid.”
He didn’t breathe with him, his inhales came stuttered and forced, exhales sharp and short. He felt helpless as he held onto the young Sentinel in his arms. His arms were curled against his chest, head buried against him on the plush green sofa in the penthouse.
Peter was crying.
This was what Tony was afraid of. He wasn’t what Peter needed and it was painfully obvious.
The kid continued to suffer until he fell asleep. A guilt-fuelled relief washed over him when he finally sagged in his arms, limbs turning to dead weight and his breathing evened out.
The gripping sense of failure hung from Tony like a shameful cloak, wafting behind him as he carried the kid to bed. He placed him down, smoothing out the creases in his shirt and wiping away the tear tracks that hadn’t already dried down his cheeks.
“I’m sorry, bud,” he murmured, brushing his damp curls from his sweat-covered forehead.
The action was gentle, but on the inside anger was rising. He wanted to throw something at a wall or kick a door because goddammit he was fucking useless. He’d thought they were making progress, he’d started feeling confident being his Guide. What a dumb thing to think.
He sighed, pressing a kiss onto Peter’s forehead and let himself out of the room. When he returned to the living area he found the Guide training book and threw it at the fridge.
He swore after the hospital he’d never let Peter down again, but he did and what was worse was that he knew it would happen again. He didn’t know what else to try. He’d read every book and watched every course.
A dark voice in his head planted a thought. His father was right all along. He was a terrible excuse for a Guide and Peter was paying the price for it.
He sighed, dragging a hand down his face as he thought of his Sentinel sleeping off his sensory overload that he was unable to stop. He had to try harder.
Tony was nose deep in his tablet when Pepper eventually caved and came to drag him out of the lab. He’d spent the best part of a week there reading any article, watching every video he hadn’t already seen that could teach him how to do better. He only stopped when Pepper insisted he had to eat or when Peter came over and he pretended he wasn’t spending his days figuring out how to be the person the kid needed.
“Tony, you know you’re supposed to do some work every now and then,” Pepper started with a sigh.
Tony didn’t lift his head, he knew the concerned look he’d find if he did. “I am working… on myself.”
“Leaving me to run the business as usual then.”
She was dancing around the elephant in the room, but Tony wasn’t going to be the one to approach it. “You’re a great CEO.”
“Tony.”
He cringed. He hated that tone of voice. It was the same his mother used to use on him when he’d done something stupid. Anthony .
He turned the screen off and waved away the holograms. Lifting his head, he mustered a tired smile. “Hi.”
“Hi.”
He watched her move closer until she wrapped her arms around his neck. Her pitiful look made his stomach turn.
“You can’t keep doing this.”
“I know.”
“You’ll figure it out eventually. You know that.”
“But he needs me to figure it out now. What use am I if I can’t help him?” He asked even though he knew the answer.
Nothing.
“You do help him.”
“Only through small stuff.”
“And big stuff rarely happens,” she pointed out, but it brought no relief. “You have time. You can’t hole yourself away reading pointless stuff on the internet all day.”
“But what if I don’t have time? Sure he’s been fine for a week, but exams are coming up. I can feel how stressed he is and…”
“It’s making you stressed.”
He shrugged with a small nod. “Some Guide I am.”
“You’re being too hard on yourself. Peter says the same.”
“Peter’s too nice for his own good,” he retorted if anything with admiration.
“Maybe you’re putting too much pressure on yourself. I know I’m the last person to give you advice, but shouldn’t it be a natural process? You were born a Guide, do you really need a book to tell you how to be one?”
Tony looked up at her, finding comfort in her eyes. She’d taken everything that had happened in the past month in her stride and beautifully so. She’d welcomed Peter with open arms when he stayed here after his bond shock and every visit since. She didn’t complain when he had to leave when Peter needed him, even when it happened on date night two weeks ago.
Tony wondered if she had a point. He was born with this, doesn’t that mean it couldn’t be taught?
“You both need to relax. Maybe take him on a weekend to Malibu or something.”
Tony closed his eyes, picturing the heat on his skin and the sand between his feet. A holiday. The words alone dragged the tension from his shoulders. “That does sound good.”
“Suggest it. He can even take his books to study. Plus I’m going to be busy with work next weekend since I’m single-handedly running the world's largest corporation,” Pepper teased.
Tony smiled, taking her hand in his and lifting it to his lips to kiss. “Have I mentioned-“
“I’m doing an amazing job. Yes. Now let’s eat.”
Surprisingly, Peter jumped at the idea of a weekend in Malibu. It was May who had to remind him about exams and as Pepper told him to, he suggested to Peter to study up there.
The Sentinel had physically relaxed at the news and Tony couldn’t help but feel relieved too. This was his job, after all, to help him, and nothing made him happier than seeing the kid with a buzz of excitement.
“We can go next weekend?” He asked, almost vibrating on the spot on the couch.
Tony grinned, squeezing his shoulder. “Yup. That’s the perks of owning a house up there.”
“Awesome! We have to go to the beach and go to that ice cream parlour you always talked about and-“
“Study. We can study too,” he interjected with a smirk.
“Yeah. Oh, you could quiz me! But you can’t do that thing where you can feel that I’m struggling with an answer and give me hints. That’s cheating.”
“So you expect me to watch you suffer in silence?”
“Yes.”
Tony pulled a face, but the kid didn’t budge. “Fine.”
“And you can’t do that thing where you make me feel relaxed when I’m stressed.”
He rolled his eyes, crossing his arms over his chest. “Come on, that isn’t cheating.”
“But you won’t be able to do that during my exams.”
“Maybe I could. We should test distance, I could always sit on the bleachers whilst you do your exams,” he suggested only half teasingly. The kid looked horrified.
“You can’t do that!”
“Why? It would help you.”
“It would be an unfair advantage for other kids who don’t have Guides.”
“That’s their problem.”
“Mister Stark,” he whined.
Tony chuckled, ruffling his hair whilst Peter tried his best to keep his serious pout on. He wondered if he knew he could see his lips creeping up at the sides. “Fine. I’ll pick you up from school on Friday.”
Unfortunately, life didn’t give them that long.
“Boss, you have an incoming call from May Parker.”
Tony already knew what she was going to say. Call it instinct, call it stupidity, but he was already up and out of his seat and running for the penthouse’s balcony when he accepted her call.
“Tony, you need to get here.”
May was crying. He could hardly understand her, but he knew. It didn’t matter what she said. Everything led to Peter.
“I’m coming,” he promised, leaping off the deck before his suit had fully formed, helmet snapping shut halfway into the free fall and he shot towards the Parkers’ apartment.
“How’s he doing?” He asked tightly.
“It’s bad, Tony. I came home and found him sitting on the floor just staring at the wall and crying.”
“Can he move?”
“He won’t respond. God, I don’t know what to do.”
“Hold him if you can,” he instructed. “Try to give him something to ground himself.”
“Okay, okay.”
There was shuffling on the other end, quiet sobs and hiccups, and Tony could picture the scene in his mind. He was helpless once again.
“I’m three minutes out.”
“Is he going to be okay?”
“Of course he is, Petes always okay.” He has to be.
“I should have come home sooner. I shouldn’t have stayed at work.”
“You didn’t know. I should have checked on him.” In his defence, he did check on him. It was mid-afternoon when Tony felt a tightness in his chest, an unsettling feeling that felt almost foreign. He assumed it was because he’d only consumed coffee so far that day, but his mind drifted to Peter. The kid was supposed to be at decathlon practice and he’d never been able to feel him from that far away so he brushed it off. To settle his concern, he texted him asking if he was okay but got no response which he expected since he was still at school. Hindsight was a bitch.
He landed on the fire escape of their apartment block, pulling the outer door open and disengaging the suit. It melted away into the housing unit by the time he reached their apartment door. It swung open before he could knock, revealing a dishevelled, desperate May.
She had her own tears tracking down her face, a silent pleading in her eyes. Help him.
Wordlessly she stepped aside and Tony ran for Peter’s room. He knew what to expect, May had told him, but nothing could have prepared him. The pain the kid was emitting hit him straight in the chest before he was able to reach him. He was sat cross-legged on the floor by his bed, eyes open and unseeing straight at his wall.
“Pete,” he breathed, dropping to his knees in front of him so he was in his line of sight, but he knew he couldn’t see him. He cupped the kid's face with both hands, relieved to find him warm. “Hey Pete, hey. I’m right here. Come back to me.”
He knew it wouldn’t be that simple, but hope still dwindled when it failed to get a reaction. He felt unreachable. So close, yet so far. His hands cupped his cheeks and he could feel his breath against his chin, but he was so far away.
He thought of the book, of the breathing techniques and the best way to talk Sentinels out of overloads, but Peter couldn’t hear him right now. He was so deep into an overload he was verging on a full-blown Zone Out.
Tony swallowed, stamping down his panic. The last thing Peter needed was for Tony’s stress to mingle with his own. “Come on, kid. Listen to my voice. You’re okay, you’re at home. Me and May are here.”
Nothing.
“Fuck it,” he muttered, giving in to what his heart was telling him. He grabbed the kid by his shoulders, pulling him in and pushing his face into the nape of his neck so he wasn’t staring into nothing anymore. Peter had mentioned a handful of times that Tony smelled safe, usually when he was off his face on pain meds but if it helped, he’d try anything.
He closed his eyes, focusing on the Sentinel, trying to find him in the miles of fog and barriers he’d unintentionally built. It was like an endless maze and every time Tony felt close, felt as if he was within reach, he was hit with another dead end. Turn around. Try again. And again.
“I’m here, kid. I’ve got you,” he whispered, clutching him tighter as he searched.
Closer. He could feel him.
Closer.
Closer. He could reach out.
There.
“Come back to me, Pete. I’ve got you, you just have to listen. My shirt probably smells, can you smell it? I don’t think I’ve ever been happy to have worn a shirt two days in a row.” He moved his hands so one rested in the back of his hair and the other on his upper back. “I’ve got you. You feel that? It’s just me. Just me and you.”
Slowly, he began to rock the kid in his lap from side to side, focusing on warmth, safety, anything to displace the Sentinel’s overwhelming emotions.
He kept his eyes closed, forehead resting on the crown of Peter’s head. “Just keep breathing. Keep listening to me. You’re doing so good.”
He continued whispering unintelligible nothings and cooing noises, keeping him as close as he could.
You’re safe. I’m here , he thought on a loop, over and over until it was the only thing on his mind.
He was so deep in his thoughts he missed the signs at first. The small movement against his neck, the rigidity of his limbs easing. It was the sharp intake of breath that snapped him back, looking down at Peter who was now blinking fast, and gulping chunks of air as if he’d just broken out of a body of water.
“You’re okay, stay calm,” he ordered gently, brushing back his damp curls.
He couldn’t stop the huge rush of relief crashing over him as he watched Peter take in his surroundings.
He’d done it. He stopped his overload. He’d brought him back from the cusps of a Zone Out. Holy shit.
“‘Ony?” He asked, peering up at him.
“That’s me, kiddo,” he said, unable to hold back a teary grin.
The kid cocked his head, still trying to find his bearings. Instead of doing anything, Tony kissed his forehead and pulled him back into his chest because holy shit. He’d seriously done it.
He could be what Peter needed.
“Thank God,” May breathed, suddenly on her knees at his side and combing a hand through her nephew’s hair.
Peter looked up at her, dazed. “Wha’ happened?”
“I don’t know, sweetheart. You were like this when I got home from work. You scared me to death.”
“Sorry.”
“It’s not your fault, honey. I’m just glad you’re okay.”
Peter craned his head up to Tony who reluctantly eased his hold on him so he didn’t have to strain himself. “I had an overload?”
“Overload-come-Zone Out, I’d say.”
Peter’s eyes widened and Tony could feel his fear crawling in.
“But it’s over now. You’re okay.”
“You got me out?”
Tony nodded, breaking into another smile that the kid mirrored.
“You did it. You did it!” Peter cried, diving back into him with a bone-crushing hug that Tony immediately reciprocated. The relief, the joy radiating off of his Sentinel was enough to make him drunk with happiness.
He did this.
When Peter finally pulled away Tony insisted they moved the party to the couch to save his knees and find Peter something to eat. There was nothing to suggest eating helped the fall out of an overload, but Tony knew the kid was happier with a snack.
“What happened, sweetheart?” May asked once they were all settled and comfortably mothering the boy with a packet of biscuits.
Peter shrugged, now having worn off the aftereffects of the overload. “I was at school. I had a practice History test and it was really hard. I could remember how to answer one of the questions.”
Tony sighed, lacing a hand through the kid's curls.
“Ned was tapping his pencil and the clock was so loud and Flash kept kicking my chair.”
“It came on that fast?” Tony asked instead of demanding Eugine Thompson's address so he could kick his ass.
Peter shrugged. “Maybe. It must have.”
“How did you get home?” You should have called me.
“I don’t know. It’s all a bit blurry. I remember the bell going and then… nothing.”
Tony swallowed down his fear hearing that sentence. So many things could have happened. It was dangerous walking around unaided in a minor overload, let alone what Peter had faced.
“Why didn't you tell anyone? Ned could have helped. You could have called us.”
“I didn’t wanna talk. It hurt.”
“I could feel you, you know. From the tower.”
“What?”
“Of course, I was too dumb to believe it at the time, but I think I could feel when it started. It was towards the end of school, I assumed you were going to decathlon.”
“You felt it? From there?”
Tony nodded. “I’m sorry, kid. I should have done more.”
Peter shook his head, shuffling around where he sat cross-legged to face him, “don’t you see how awesome that is? Well,” he grimaced, “not awesome , but… you could feel what was happening from miles away. Maybe that means next time you’ll know sooner.”
“True. Would have been a hell of a lot more useful to you.”
Peter frowned. “Don’t do that. You helped. Just because there’s a chance that maybe you could have done it sooner doesn’t change the fact it worked. We did it.”
“We did.”
“And next time, you’ll be there right at the start.”
“Your history teacher is gonna get one hell of a surprise.”
Peter laughed. “I think Flash would combust if you broke into my history class.”
“That isn’t deterring me,” he replied will a cunning smile.
“Okay, who’s for takeout?” May asked, pushing herself to her feet. “I think we all need it.”
“Oo larb!” Peter said.
Tony frowned, “I’m sorry, larb ?”
“Yeah, it’s like a meaty salady thing,” Peter explained animated.
“A meaty salady thing,” he parroted.
“It’s awesome, you have to try it!”
“Thai green curry and larb for three?” May asked, already dialling the number on the landline.
“Yes!”
Tony smiled, trying to remember the last time he’d seen the kid this happy, let alone felt it. He couldn’t imagine what it must have been like to finally have a Guide after worrying about it for so long only to find he couldn’t help when he needed it. He couldn’t imagine the relief he must feel now he can.
For the first time ever Peter was safe being a Sentinel and he always would be.
“Mister Stark?” Peter asked, making Tony realise he was staring. “What is it?”
“We’re gonna be okay,” he thought out loud.
The teen smiled, curling into his side on the sofa. “I knew we would be.”
Tony hummed, wrapping an arm around him and letting his cheek drop onto his head. “I’ve got you, kid. Always.”