Out of control

Peter gasped again. Chest tight and squeezing. It was like he couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t breathe.

Thuds on the bathroom door sent his already skyrocketing anxiety forward, and snickers echoed through the bathroom, making Peter snap his mouth shut.

"There’s a fucking fag in there; I heard him sobbing his eyes out."

Flash.

Fuck, why did Flash have to be here?

Another thud on the door and another gasp left Peter.

And then they left suddenly. Scattering out, slamming the door behind them.

Peter got up quickly, wiping the tears furiously off his face, and he got up, running out of the bathroom outside to where a glaring happy was staring at him from the car window.

Peter groaned, remembering everything that had happened last week, and he wanted to cry all over again.

He made his way over slowly, not really wanting to, but knowing he had to.

He opened the door, and with a big shock, Tony was sitting there. smug look on his face, smiling.

Peter's heart stopped, and he gulped

"He’s here in person because he hates you, and he knows he knows!" "He is going to take the suit and never talk to you again-"

"Are you going to come in or just stand there?"

Peter slammed the door behind him, breathing quickly. Thank fuck he had been having a good day, or he would’ve been ticcing so badly right now.

He looked for a split second, trying not to have a panic attack. Tony was just staring at him.

Peter looked away, his fingers finding his hand as he picked at it, scratching it.

"So you want to tell me what happened last week?" "Or should I?"

Peter frowned, gulping away a nervous tic.

"What do-do you mean?" No-nothing was wrong." Peter's voice went high and wobbly, making Tony look at him with this weird face.

"Peter, can we just cut the bullshit? Excuse my words, but..."Tony groaned, rubbing his face with his hands, only making Peter's heart rate increase even more.

"Look, I talk to May, and I want to know why she thought I knew about all of that stuff." "I'm not mad, but you know that I have to know about that stuff-"

"No, you dont!"

Peter snapped. A loud yelp left his mouth before he could stop it, and he had to bite his check to stop the tears rolling down his face.

"Don’t snap at me. As I was saying, I need to know about that stuff. May was telling me about paralyzed hands and tic attacks and fainting, like, what if you had some attack and I didn’t know about it?"

Peter said nothing. Embarrassment burning through him.

"Kid, look at me!"

Peter turned his head slightly, fear coursing through him as a panic attack set off. His chest grew tighter, and millions of thoughts rushed through his head.

He’s faking it.

It’s not real.

Just anxiety

.

He’s going to take your suit away! He thinks you’re weak!

You are weak!

You killed your fucking uncle, you cunt!

"Peter-peter?"

and everything snapped back.

Black dots spotted Peter's vision, and he let out a gasp, his body curling into the corner of the car, his eyes flickering violently up and down.

"Peter? Kid, hey-uh shit fuck, I’m not- um breathe? That’s-what you’re meant to say, right?,"I'm not mad. Just breathe in and out, yeah?"

Another gasp left Peter, and a bit of oxygen entered his system.

"Yeah, just like that."

"I’m so sorry-I don’t know why I don’t-I’m so sorry." Peter panted out the second his eyes focused and his body relaxed. Now he just looked mortified.

"No need to apologize, kid; it happens to the best of us."

Peter faltered, his eyes scanning over Tony, trying to figure out what he meant by that and what he meant by all of it.

He felt itchy and wrong and itchy.

His ears buzzed, and he wanted to scream and shout, but he couldn’t stop blinking. Subconsciously, his hand scratched his other hand.

"Um, anyway, what was I talking about?" "Oh yeah, that." I mean, it just would’ve been nice to have a heads up, I suppose, and also, May was stunned that you were hiding it; she thought I knew!

Peter bit his cheek, his chest rising up and down again, and so much went through him. He didn’t know what to do or say; he was just itchy and fuzzy, and too much was going on.

"I mean, I’m not mad or anything, just a little stunned, to be honest. I mean, I don’t really care; it’s not like I think any less of you; just hurt that you don’t trust me."

"Wait, you don’t care?"

Tony blinked. Stopping mid sentence.

"No? I mean, I care, but it’s not like I’ll be like OHH, he’s got Tourette's! That’s so weird!" "I’m not a complete dickhead, unlike what some articles say."

Peter just stopped. It was like everything went silent. Tony didn’t care? Why was he even hiding it? How could he be so stupid? He was worrying over nothing! He’s so fucking dumb.

And Tony's chatter fades away as Peter gets lost in his thoughts, thinking about too many things.

"So what’s it like with the tics?"

Peter looked up, confused. He first looked around, trying to figure out who Tony was talking to. Then he realized he was the only person in the lab.

The older man had stopped in the middle of fixing one of his suits, head looking up, looking at Peter.

"Oh um. It’s- I mean, I dunno. It’s normal, I guess, for me. It's hard to describe what it’s like when it’s my whole life, I guess.,"It's just like, I dunno."

Peter gets this question all the time. From older people to younger people. Tony looked down, then up again.

"Mm, ok, then how does it feel?"

"Uh, like an itch or like electricity. I guess it needs to get out."

Tony nodded, blinking a few times, then shrugging, "Huh," he said, then went back to work

Then came the dreaded day that Peter can now pinpoint for everything. He had woken up with a scratchy, sore throat. A pounding headache and a shaky feeling he couldn’t get rid of.

He had forced himself to get up. Fainting once in the bathroom for a split second But he got dressed, ignoring the cold feeling spreading through him. He left the house a couple minutes later, his eyes going over the note left for him quickly.

The ride to school had a grinding noise and a clicking tic that seemed to never go away. People's stares broke down the little of resistance he had left, and he stumbled into school, his ears ringing as each locker slammed, seeming to slam painfully right into his ear.

Ned had looked at him with an eyebrow quirked up, but said nothing, knowing Peter would listen.

And with that, Peter stumbled into his first class, his mind foggy and numb. He only made it to the second period when Ned pressed his freezing hands into Peter's forehead.

"What?" He slurred, blinking slowly.

"Dude, are you okay?" "You're literally burning!"

Peter frowned, blinking again, and slowly pulling away.

"Huh? M fine Ned what?" His words left his mouth like it was numb. But as soon as Ned said it, Peter felt like it had hit him.

He shook before he could stop himself. Ned stared at him with that look, making Peter want to roll his eyes.

A sudden jolt in his stomach made his anxiety spike as panic flowed through him. He would not throw up in front of all these people.

"Peter? Peter! "You're looking really pale, man. I don’t like it."

Oh god, Peter didn’t feel good. His head swam. He literally swam; everything blurred, and he felt like he was floating.

"Mm, woah," he muttered out, suddenly closing his eyes for a few seconds.

His head exploded when the bell rang loudly.

When did it get so loud?

He was being dragged somewhere. Where was he going?

"Come on, man, work with me."

"Ned?" He whispered out. The other boy rolled his eyes, tugging on Peter and pulling him through the throng of people pushing and shoving through the halls, wanting to get to their next class.

And suddenly Peter was shoved and expected to fall flat on his ass onto the floor. He let out a yelp, but he fell onto a chair.

Oh.

"You’re welcome, dumbass, my god. Why do you do this?" Ned was staring Peter right in the eye, and Peter looked up, blinking slowly again.

"Oh Peter, what’s wrong?" a second voice, and Peter turned to the side, grimacing as his head pounded again and his stomach made itself known.

"He needs to go home; he literally almost collapsed, making me nearly have a heart attack," Ned shot out as the nurse made her way to the boy, who more so looked weirdly high.

A click, a beep, and a thermometer were shoved into Peter's mouth, followed by more clicking.

"Alright Ned, thank you, hun. "Can you get his bag, please?"

Ned grumbled but walked away, leaving Peter to curl up on the bed. It was weirdly comforting. Time passed quickly. And before he knew it, a hand was shaking him awake.

He flipped around, expecting to see his aunt, but a man was staring back at him.

"May?!" He asked in absolute shock, his fever warm brain making connections in the wrong places, and he had concluded that May had grown a beard.

"No, not May, you silly bugger god. It’s me, Tony?,"Remember your favorite person in the world?"

Peter, who would’ve usually shoved Tony laughing, just stared at Tony, blinking repeatedly.

"Ok, you’re way too sick to understand me, okay? Uh, we are leaving, okay?"

Peter understood, and he got up slowly, frowning as Tony slung Peter's bag over his shoulder, looking like a grown man about to go to kindergarten.

Peter couldn’t help but smirk.

"What? What! What are you smirking about?" The man said he noticed the way Peter was staring and becoming self-conscious.

"Nothinggg bag looks like lil kid," Peter muttered out.

Tony rolled his eyes, leading the kid, who was walking like that deer in Bambi for the first time.

And time skipped again, and Peter was in a moving car, feeling jittery and faint at the same time.

His shoulder kept lurching, and his mouth kept making a yelping noise each time. And he couldn’t stop!

"Don’t feel-eep!-good" Peter mumbled out too many feelings stirring in his stomach and head for him to handle, and he rubbed his eyes angrily.

"Yep, I know," was all Tony said, ignoring the way the boy was jerking and yelling.

Tony was worried, to say the least. Their relationship was still so-so, and Tony didn’t know how to look after kids. He really had no experience in this.

"Wait, why not?" Peter asked suddenly, his head leaning against the car.

"She was busy at work; yes, I called her."

"Oh" was all Peter said.

Tony frowned again, not liking the way Peter's hair was stuck to his forehead, and the boy looked like he was going in and out of sleep. Surprising himself, he reached out, pressing a hand to the boy's forehead.

"Mm?" Peter mumbled, his eyes flickering open. Those brown eyes, Tony loved watching him.

"Just making sure you don’t burn away," Tony joked, but really, he was panicking. Peter was burning away, quite literally. Tony looked up, noticing Happy smirking at him, and he rolled his eyes.

When they finally got to the tower, Tony almost sighed a breath of relief, knowing that if the kid went downhill, at least he would have Helen to revive him.

Then they ran into another problem. Tony had gotten out, opening Peter's door and catching the boy as his curled up figure fell out.

"Oh, shit, he fell asleep," he grumbled once he realized, and Happy stood there smirking again.

"Oh, bugger off Happy!" He yelled out, scooping the boy up bridal style and carrying him in. And the amount of heat he was radiating was extremely worrying. The boy normally runs hot, but this wasn’t hot; this was burning.

Once the man had laid down the sleeping boy and wrapped a blanket around him, he unwrapped it. On second thought, he sat down and messaged Pepper, trying not to act like the worried dad everyone in his life already thought he acted like, but he couldn’t help it. Peter was lying next to him, burning alive. Why couldn’t he be worried?

Pepper, of course, sent back a laughing emoji and said, "I’m not a doctor," but then he sent, "He'll be fine just put a wet cold cloth on his head if your that worried most sicknesses go away after 24 hours,"

20 minutes and one wet cloth later, tony had finally relaxed working on replies to the multitude of emails that had stacked up.

Peter occasionally would twitch in his sleep muttering things or grumbling.

Tony couldn’t sit for any longer. He was itching to get to his lab to make something. He got up, get guilt flowed through him. He shoves it down, arguing the kid would be fine without him for a little.

But 20 minutes on Friday chimed in a tone in her voice that made tony feel even worse.

"Peter is in need of assistance.,"

"What what’s wrong?"

"His temperature has spiked, and he seems to be unaware of what’s going on.,"

Tony swore, rushing towards the living area wincing when he heard crashing sounds.

He mentally swore at himself when he saw the kid sweaty and frantic, eyes wide open, gripping the blanket, eyes searching around the room.

Tony’s coffee mug had shattered into pieces. Pieces that Peter was now standing on, blood seeping into the carpet, mixing with the coffee.

"Pete? Peter, hey you’re ok, you’re sick, you've got a fever. " tony said, approaching the boy slowly, not wanting to scare him off.

Peter took a step back tony, wincing as a crunching sound echoed through the room as more white pieces of mug got shoved into his foot.

Peter didn’t seem to notice his eyes now dripping with tears.

"B-be-n dead, you're dead. Stop talking to me," he whimpered out and Tony’s heart broke.

He remembered when he got violently sick after his parents. He had vivid dreams and hallucinations of his dad screaming at his mum, hugging him tightly, saying these things that made little sense.

Rhodes had been there, confused as ever, but wanting to help his friend. Tony, thinking rhody was his dad coming to hurt him, had lashed out, stabbing Rhodey in the arm with a knife. Rhodey still had a scar. That was the day when he finally came to his senses that he broke down and told his friend everything about his dad his mum and sobbed so hard he vomited.

Today they laughed about it, retelling the story with a few minor tweaks so that Tony wasn’t seeing his parents talking about food.

Tony blinked, snapping out of his daze, stepping again closer to peter.

"No, Pete it’s-its me Tony remember? Mr stark? I brought you to the tower because you’re sick."

Peter blinked once, twice, then his eyes focused, and he looked down as if only just seeing the pieces of a mug that were on his foot.

"M-mr stark?" He whispered out, bottom teeth chattering, tears rolling down his bright red cheeks.

"Yeah-yeah, that’s right, it’s me.,"

Seemingly at the voice of Tony, Peter broke down falling to the ground sobbing and screaming covering his face as tears rolled down quick and fast.

Tony had his arms around the shaking boy before he could think those sounds of pain switching something in his head, forcing him to grip on the boy. He dragged the boy back away from the glass, slinging an arm around the boy's shoulder.

They sat for a while, Peters cries slowly turning into sniffs.

"Peter? You ok, kiddo?" Tony whispered, breaking the awkward tension that had arisen.

"Oh-oh god I-I’m sOS-sorry" he choked out and tony noticed the way peter was still violently shaking.

"It’s ok-no really it is," Tony said nothing the way peter had opened his mouth to argue back. "This happened to me actually, and I stabbed someone, so I say you're doing much better than me.,"

Peter blinked, looking confused.

"Ah, story for another time. Now let’s-" Tony was interrupted by Peter lurching forward vomit, leaving his mouth as he gagged and choked.

"Shit," tony muttered, gripping the trembling boy.

Tony frowned, assessing the situation. The boy was gagging and choking, and Tony could feel the heat radiating from his body. Blood was still dribbling from his foot and tony groaned.

"Friday go uh, alert Pepper, would you?"

The AI chimed and peter let out a groan that was more a whimper starting to cry again.

Tony swore, silently brushing the hair out of Peter's eyes.

Pepper walked into the room, face twisting when she saw tony and peter.

"Gosh tony it's always you getting into these situations isn't it?" Pepper noticing peter visibly softened. "Hey honey, not doing so good, huh?" She whispered, wincing and looking at his still bleeding foot.

"Ugh sorry Pep. Look uh, just help me carry him so I can stich up his foot and not what,"

Pepper winced but nodded, helping the man lift the shaking kid up

They scooped Peter up eyes closed, still shaking violently, and it scared tony. Both him and peter usually just brushed off these things and mostly when the kid got sick they would just joke about it. This was different, way different.

Later on, once tony had decided that his foot only needed a few bandages, Tony had called May telling her what happened. She wasn’t a little shocked but told Tony peter usually got violently sick but to watch out because often when he did get sick his tics would flare up.

Tony had hung up, dropping his phone and sighing. He felt terrible. He wasn’t the person to be looking after a kid. Especially not a sick kid!

His eyes made their way to the sleeping kid on the couch across from him and he smiled, sighing and brushing back his hair. He really, really hoped peter stayed asleep for the rest of the night.

He looked up, seeing pepper staring at him, a soft smile stuck on her face. She was giggling. "What?" He said, beginning to laugh to.

"Oh nothing, Its just-Your so much like a dad with him, it's sometimes hard to believe it's you!" She said. And tony blinked, not knowing what to say back..

Later on, when Peter's fever spiked, and he seized violently body shaking non stop for 10 minutes straight, Tony had first regretted meeting Peter screaming at himself for hiring a 15-year-old. But when Peter stopped shaking, staring into Tony’s eyes and crying, clutching onto Tony, He realised Peter needed him and that to have a thing-a kid clutch onto you like you were their lifeline have Tony feelings he had never really had before. Caring one’s. One's like he wanted to protect Peter and never let him go.

Fatherly feelings.