#gala’s trauma is slowing being ironed out

[cits-kirby-brainrot]

So the waddle dee I drew a few days back?

Yeah, I came up with lore.

(I am ignoring any lore given by the light novels as I know nothing of them, apologies)

+ Bonus:

Gala’s traumatic childhood in the making

[irondadgroupie]

Flying Machine (Up We Go)

Summary: What if the IronSpider suit did not make it in time?

“You gotta let go, Pete. I’m gonna catch you.”

The boy is terrified but amazing at masking it. Tony has spent enough time with the sixteen year old to recognize the signs of Peter being overwhelmed and he can hear all of them over the com.

But the boy had to let go. Tony was about to yell at him when Peter gasped: “I can’t breathe!”

They were getting too high. Peter’s current suit was not meant for places with no oxygen. The iron spider suit was more suited but it was late. Peter did not have it because he wanted the suit to be a surprise.

Tony would never forgive himself is something happened to the boy.

Peter’s breathing got shallower and he could get no intelligent reply from the boy, just moans and slurred one-word-responses. The lack of air was affecting his brain but his hold was strong.

Peter should have let go minutes ago. It would take Tony too long to get the boy to safety.

It hit him: Peter could very well die.

He set more power to the thrusters, FRIDAY was flashing warnings but Tony ignored them all.

Peter lost consciousness and started falling. He was a small dot of red and blue, hurling towards the ground with sickening grace. They were both too slow.

Tony tried to aim and think of the best way to catch the teen. If the drop ended too suddenly, he could risk snapping the boy’s neck and making the rescuing effort pointless. But Peter was already out-cold- maybe his limpness would prevent further injuries.

The man made his mind and caught the boy, turned off the thrusters and let the force of impact spin him in the air. The hoped the that protected the fragile body from breaking bones and other injuries.

Peter’s eyes were closed and his head lolled lifelessly.

“Kid!” Tony shook him and his breath caught at the sight of the boy’s lips- they were dark blue. He could not take of his helmet to check his vitals so he ordered FRIDAY to do it.

“He has asphyxia. His heart is slowing down, currently 15 beats per minute.”

Tony cursed loudly. There was nothing he could do in the border of outer space. Even if he managed to snap Peter back to breathing, there was no air to fill the boy’s lungs. Iron Man suit had air supply but he needed to get the boy’s breathing reflex back first and that required CPR which he could not do with the helmet on.

The Iron Spider suit finally caught up to them.

“Did you stop by a drive-through, what the hell?!” Tony screamed as the suit slammed into Peter’s back and began to form around him. Like by instinct, the mask formed first, leaving his limbs as the last to be covered.

“Karen, air at full flow, try to force it into his lungs. I’m finding us somewhere to land.”

The only place close by was the weird Alien Donut Ship.Tony had wanted to avoid getting Peter into the mess but now, with his protege cradled limply against his chest, there was no way he could send Peter back to Earth alone. The boy needed medical attention and he was the only one who was close enough to help.

He flew through an opening and further into the strange vessel.

“Please let there be air,” Tony muttered and at FRIDAY’s confirmation, retracted the helmet and took in a deep breath, trying to calm his racing heart.

“It’s okay, kid,” He set Peter down onto the ground and ordered Karen to retract the Iron Helmet, not a mask this time. “Let’s get you better now.”

The boy’s face was white and the blue had begun to spread to the area around his mouth. Tony gulped and straightened Peter’s neck and bent down so he could listen for breath sounds.

Iron Spider suit had been too late. There was no breathing.

“Fuck,” Tony swore quietly. “Karen, retract the suit to his hips. I need room for the chest to rise.”

The order was completed in a second and he wasted no time in filling his lungs with air and blowing it to Peter’s mouth. The boy’s cheeks bulged slightly as air traveled down his windpipe and eventually filled his chest.

“Good, that’s good,” He stroked the boy’s windswept hair: it was straight, not curly like usual. “Now exhale.”

The body did so with no conscious thought.

As he worked through the five initial breaths, Tony was thanking the beings above of hindsight of taking a first aid course. Peter had told he had never had the training so as his mentor, the man had arranged for a course and even attended as moral support.

Tony did not want to think how panicked he would be if he had not just had a refresher on CPR technique.

He tried to keep the breaths even and not too deep, the last think he needed was to make sure lifeless Peter started to throw up.

Five breaths did not seem to be working. Peter’s face did not lose the blue tinge and he still reacted to nothing.

“C’mon, kiddo,” Tony begged as he slapped the boy’s face and rubbed his sternum with his knuckles. “C’mon, c’mon, time to wake up!”

Sternum rub usually worked or at the very least elicited some kind of response, be it a frown or a soft moan, but this time- nothing. It was just as pointless as trying to rouse a CPR dummy.

“Okay,” The man tried to keep his panic in control. “We- we can work with this, Pete. So, chest compressions-”

Tony counted the right place, set his hands on top of the other, linked his fingers and started pressing down rhythmically.

“This works, you know this works,” The man muttered to focus on something else than the sound of Peter’s ribs giving away. “You remembered last summer? We went to the beach and you got caught in the tide? You swallowed so much water I had to give you CPR- or, I pressed and Pepper gave you breaths. It took but a minute and you were coughing up.”

Peter’s rib snapped and Tony had to fight his reactions to keep compressions steady and going. The Iron Spider suit was designed to give support to broken bones, it could be dealt with.

But first he needed to get Peter’s breath back.

Tony pulled Peter’s jaw back, locked his lips against the boy’s and resumed breathing. He set one of his hands behind the neck for support and closed the boy’s nose. He tried not to think how Peter’s skin was cold and his lips gave no resistance to the unsolicited kiss. The boy should have been fighting back.

“Kid, you can’t give up now,” He returned to compressions. Air needed to circulate from Peter’s lungs to his brain and heart. “You’ve been begging me to take you on another mission. Well, this is a mission! We’re on a fucking space ship on route to who knows where and I need my buddy here to keep me safe.”

Peter’s sense of obligation, Tony was using his protege’s idolism to his favor. He was ready to do anything to get the boy’s his life back. Hell, he would sell the SI to Oscorp for a penny if it meant Peter would take a breath.

He fisted his hand and slammed it over Peter’s heart.

A choked sound came from the boy’s mouth.

Tony’s heart sank to his stomach. He had heard that sound before Peter had gotten a canape stuck in his throat a a SI Gala.

Peter had opened and closed his mouth the same way back then.

But this time, it was not bad news.

“Kiddo,” The man grabbed the boy’s shoulders and shook them. “It’s okay, we’re both okay, you can breathe now. There is air here, there is lots of air.”

Peter’s breathing was barely there but his eyes opened to slits. Tony straightened the boy’s neck and gave a rescue breath, hoping the act would help Peter’s lungs to remember how to expand. Peter gave another choking sound as warm air traveled through his throat, Tony understood: rescue breaths were not pleasant to the receiver. The first aid course had required both of them to act as dummies and have mouth-to-mouth done on them. Although, Peter had burst into laughter every time Tony had bent down to practice the procedure on him (and eventually, Tony had followed suit).

Then Peter’s lungs took in a breath- it was not a lungful but progress nevertheless.

“That’s it, buddy,” Tony got the boy into a sitting position with an arm around his chest and thumped his back, coaxing the lungs to work. “You’re doing fantastic, just the final step left.”

Slaps kept air coming in and out, it was a very old-school, not-scientifically proven method but Tony was the master of winging it. Soon Peter was simultaneously trying to cough and breathe, his mentors actions had woken his lungs and primitive reflexes took over.

The man did not know who he was trying to comfort, Peter or himself when he cradled the boy in his arms and rocked the shivering, blueish form back and forth.

“Shh,” Tony brought his lips to Peter’s ear, hoping the shushing would lower the racing pulse and help Peter control his emotions. “You’re safe now, Peter.”

Peter grasped at his armor and whimpered, Tony did not know the exact reason why but took a guess it didn’t matter. His boy had gone through another trauma, another milestone that meant he was becoming just as fucked up as the rest of the Avengers, part and present.

“Karen, get him into suit sans the mask and put on the heater.”

The blue in Peter’s lips wasn’t all because of asphyxia. The boy’s eyes were also red, blood vessels had popped but Tony confirmed it was not life-threatening. As adrenaline left his system, Tony found himself shaking too. He turned on his heater too and Peter grasped him tighter.

“You’re okay, kid,” The man hugged the boy tightly and for the first time took a look around. The place was foreboding, dark, everything he did not want Peter to be exposed to.

He buried Peter’s face into his neck. For a few minutes more, he could make the world alright.

“We’ll be okay.”