Penguins and Panic
It had been a week since the nightmare incident, and Tony hadn't asked Peter about it. Peter was honestly glad, he still wasn't ready to talk about it, but maybe soon.
Peter had no reason to think anything was wrong. He had come to the lab day, and Tony was acting pretty normal, for Tony at least. He was quieter, and when Peter talked his eyes seemed to go dull for a second before snapping back, but that wasn’t anything to worry about, right?
Wrong.
They were about an hour in and Peter was focused. His hands were steady as he grabbed the last sticky bit of web fluid with tweezers out of the minuscule wiring. There had been an accident, which ended with him having to extract web fluid from the surrounding wires, a stressful job. He had been so focused on making sure his hand was steady that he didn’t even notice Tony, nor Tony’s odd behavior.
It wasn’t until his breathing had gotten so loud and so quick that Peter abruptly realized something was wrong.
He placed the tweezers down, turning on his stool to face Tony who was now staring past the holographic code, no longer focused.
“Mr. Stark?” Peter said apprehensively, unsure if Tony was having a panic attack like before or if he was just being paranoid.
It took a moment for Tony to respond, his eyes unfocusing then refocusing on Peter.
“Hey kid, this is going to sound weird,” he breathed frantically, “but could you breathe louder?” Tony visibly flushed at either the request or lack of oxygen.
“Breathe louder?” Peter confirmed, confused at the strange request. He stood, crossing the short distance necessary to closing the gap.
“It helps-“ Tony swallowed thickly, sweat beading on his forehead, “it helps me stay grounded.” He motioned to the ground vaguely as if to visually explain breathing’s grounding effects.
“Uh…yeah, sure.” Peter stopped a few feet from Tony, remembering how Tony had not even wanted him in the room last time. Peter breathed as loud as he could, big slow breaths. Tony followed suit, eyes fluttering closed and head in his hands. His shoulders moved up and down with his breaths, occasional breaks in his steady breaths.
After a minute or so, Tony was able to fully inhale and exhale with ease, which gave Peter an idea.
“Hey Mr. Stark?” Peter said softly. He got no response, just a gentle bob of the head.
“What do you call a penguin in the White House?” Peter paused.
“Lost.” Tony huffed a sound, almost a laugh, which made Peter grin from ear to ear.
“Where does a king keep his armies?” Peter waited for a second, not expecting a response.
“Where?” Tony croaked, attempting to play along.
“His sleevies.” Peter laughed at his own joke, and Tony sat up with a ghost of a smile.
“Pete.” He murmured quietly, rubbing his eyes, “you’re too young-“ he paused to breathe, his lungs still not full enough to speak full sentences in one breath, “for dad jokes.”
His voice was no louder than a whisper, and it was airy but it was there. Peter laughed, walking across the lab to grab a glass of water.
“You’re never too young for dad jokes.” Peter laughed, returning with water for Tony. He placed it in front of Tony, his face growing serious.
“You’re okay?”
“Yeah, I’m okay now.” Tony confirmed. “Thank you.” Peter nodded, turning to return to his work bench.
They had come to a silent mutual understanding of letting each other help, and no need for questions immediately afterwards. They could talk later, but for now they enjoyed each other’s company in the silence of the lab.