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txnysheart · 6 years ago

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let’s get on with living (while we can) [5]

chapter 5: you fill up my senses

word count: 8368

warnings: cancer, angst, sad, throwing up, chemo side effects, dissociation, anxiety attacks (good times lmao)

summary: both tony and peter struggle with their mental health. ned and mj come for a visit.

read on ao3: x

playlist: x

chapter 1 - chapter 2 - chapter 3 - chapter 4 - chapter 5 - chapter 6 - chapter 7 - chapter 8 - chapter 9

series masterlist | masterlist

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Forty-eight miserable hours later, the migraine let go when Peter threw up everything in his stomach. Tony hadn’t slept at all, on constant alert if anything should happen to his son. Steve had dozed off once for a couple of hours, leaning against Tony who was relieved to see him resting. As much as they wanted to squeeze Peter between them to comfort him, they mostly left him alone so he could rest. Only going into his room to give him water, try to coax some food in him, make sure he took his pills, or replace the cold compress that the boy said made it a little better.

It was FRIDAY who alerted them that Peter was throwing up. They ran from the living room to discover that he’d made it to the bathroom by himself, and was knelt in front of the toilet. It was obvious he was in discomfort, tears streaming down his face, and he could barely get a breath in. Steve crouched down next to the boy, cooing and stroking his back comfortingly while Tony dampened a washcloth and got a glass of water ready for the boy.

The vomiting stopped, but he dry heaved for a little while before he sat back, out of breath. Steve gathered him up in his arms while Tony washed his face, smiling softly at his son. “You feeling any better?” he asked, brushing sweaty curls away from his pale forehead. Peter nodded. “Mhm, head feels better,” he mumbled with his eyes closed, “I’m tired.”

“You can go back to bed in a minute. Maybe brush your teeth first?” Steve suggested, and the boy nodded again, getting up on his feet with some help. Minding his mouth sores, he brushed away the acidic taste in his mouth before heading back to bed.

“Wanna take a bath when I wake up,” Peter yawned as Steve tucked him in, feeling gross, but too tired to do anything about it. “Sure, Peter Pan,” Tony smiled, stroking his hair soothingly. “Get some sleep,” Steve whispered and gave him a kiss on the forehead. The two men walked away from the bed to give their kid enough peace and quiet to sleep.

“We love you,” Tony spoke from the doorway, leaning into his husband who had an arm around his waist. “Love you too,” Peter responded, sounding fatigued, yet happy. With the door closed, Tony dropped his head to rest on Steve’s shoulder who then moved his hand up to his hair in an attempt to comfort. Tony hummed affirmatively, leaning even more of his weight on him.

If it hadn’t been for Tony sighing, straightening himself up and heading for the living room, Steve honestly would’ve scooped his sleep deprived husband up and carried him to bed. The tugging on his hand prompted him to follow him into the living room where Pepper and Happy were still sitting. Steve let Tony give them an update on how Peter was doing before he announced that they’d be going to bed, which Pepper was very pleased to hear.

They took a shower together; really just holding each other, whispering endearments, assuaging. Maybe they cried a little. Even if they did, there was no evidence of that when they had made their way into bed. There were only lazy smiles and loving eyes. A moment with just them. Thumbs stroking cheeks, lips brushing against each other and entangled limbs. They soothed each other to sleep.

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With the room being light proofed, Tony had no idea what time it was when he slowly opened his eyes, face smushed in his husband’s chest. Shifting so that he could see Steve’s face, he smiled when he saw his eyes were closed, heavy breaths coming out of his slightly open mouth. And he just looked at him. God, he loves him so much that it hurts.

Tony’s stomach growled, and he noticed how hungry he was, which meant that Steve would, without a doubt, be hungry as well. So he gently woke him up by pressing light to his neck and poking his face. “Honey, it’s time to wake up,” he mumbled against his soft skin, and got a tired groan in return. “What time is it?” Steve asked, pulling Tony to him and pressed a kiss to his forehead. Tony smiled, and tilted his head up for a proper kiss before answering. “Don’t know, I haven’t checked yet. FRI?”

“The time is currently 11 am. You’ve slept for approximately 12 hours. You both needed it,” the AI informed them, and Tony scoffed playfully at that last comment.

“Is Peter awake?” Steve asked.

“No, sir, he’s still deeply sleeping. I recommend not waking him.”

“Thanks, FRIDAY.”

Once again, Tony’s stomach growled. “You hungry? Wanna get some food?” Steve chuckled. “Let’s just stay here a little longer,” Tony decided, entertaining the feeling of escaping reality if they just stayed in bed. “Sure, doll,” Steve agreed, despite being quite hungry himself. Anything for Tony. Plus, he didn’t really mind just lying in bed with his husband. In fact, he adored it.

What finally roused them out of their drowsy state was FRIDAY informing them that Peter was beginning to wake up. “Let’s go. He said he wanted a bath, but I wanna get him to eat something first,” Tony said, pushing himself up with his good arm, and pulled a too big sweater over his head. “You like my sweater?” Steve asked, not really minding at all. It was one of his favorite things, seeing Tony in his clothes. “Oh, this is yours, dear? Well, gosh darn, I had no idea,” Tony teased. “I know you love it,” he added when he saw his husband just shaking his head fondly. He pulled some comfortable jeans on, Steve helping him with the zipper, button and belt. It had proved to be pretty tricky with a cast, but Steve was happy to help out in any way that was needed. He lifted Tony’s - his own - sweater up just a bit, pressing a sweet kiss to his hipbone before standing back up.

“We can do this,” he said, reassuring smile on his face as he held Tony’s cheeks. “Yeah? ‘Cause I’m not so sure,” Tony lamented, leaning into the touch. “Shh, none of that. We have a son to feed,” Steve whispered, letting his hands linger before dropping them from his face, one of his arms wrapping around the smaller man’s waist. “We sure do.”

Peter was sitting up, and smiled at his dads when they walked into his room. “Good morning,” he beamed, looking almost normal. “Good morning, sweetie. C’mon, let’s get some breakfast,” Steve said, grabbing Peter’s soft bathrobe and a pair of slippers for him.

A rush of dizziness passed through Peter when he stood up, thanks to how little he’d eaten. He held onto Tony’s hand as they walked, slowly, to the kitchen.

“What’re you hungry for, Petey?” Tony asked, opening the fridge.

“Take a wild guess,” the boy chuckled as he adjusted to sit more comfortably in one of the barstools at the kitchen island.

“Whatever could it be?” Steve joked, voice laced with fake confusion.

“I think it rhymes with groggy horn snakes,” Tony smirked, sending a playful wink to his son who giggled. He got the milk out of the fridge and looked over to his husband. “Omelette?” he asked, and Steve nodded with a soft smile on his face. “I’ve got it. Make the boy some groggy horn snakes,” Steve said, grabbing the eggs from Tony who snorted out a laugh.

“FRIDAY, add corn flakes to the shopping list,” Tony spoke up when he noticed they were almost out. “Corn flakes added,” the AI confirmed. “While we’ve got you here, FRI, why don’t you put on Pete’s favorite playlist?” Tony added while pouring milk over the corn flakes, his heart maybe skipping a beat when he saw the genuine smile on Peter’s face. FRIDAY didn’t answer, only streaming the playlist at a comfortable volume in the kitchen.

“Thanks, Dad,” Peter said when his bowl of cereal was placed in front of him, and mumbled the lyrics to You Make My Dreams between small mouthfuls of food. He ate all of it. He even drank some of the milkshake Steve had whipped together to be especially easy on his mouth sores.

“Can Ned and MJ come here this weekend?” Peter asked, both looking and sounding hopeful. He really wanted to see them before his hair started falling out. The thought made his stomach tighten. “Of course. Just text them and have them check it with their parents. I’m sure Dad will have someone drive them up here,” Steve confirmed, and Tony nodded in agreement. “Yeah, I’ll send Happy down.”

“Oh, no, he doesn’t have to go all the way there and then back again. Can’t anyone else do it?” the boy inquired, not keen on inconveniencing Happy.

“Sorry, kid. I don’t want them to be driven by someone they don’t know. Happy’s the most reliable of ‘em all. I only want the best for your friends,” Tony explained. Sure, he could’ve hired another chauffeur for that particular drive, but MJ and Ned were just kids. Kids he’d grown to care about, as a matter of fact, and he knew he could trust Happy to get them from A to B safely. In response, Peter only shrugged, opening the group chat with his two best friends. At least he’d tried, and he could tell there was no changing his mind.

All of them having finished their breakfast, Peter squirmed a little when he brought his hands up to fix his hair. Ugh, gross, he thought when he felt how greasy it was. “I think I’ll have that bath now,” he said, nose scrunched up a little.

“I’ll come with you. Gotta make sure Dad’s cast doesn’t get wet,” Steve decided and put the dishes in the dishwasher. “Yeah, I’ll build us a fort in the meantime,” Tony grinned at his boy. “I’m not five,” he complained, albeit with a smile. “No, but you still love it,” Steve chuckled, and met Tony’s eyes, “and mind your arm, honey.” Tony playfully saluted the two before heading to the living room to get started on his project.

Without it needing to be said, Steve held his hand out for his son who held onto it all the way to the bathroom. But Peter was considerably less faint than the last time he took a bath, and managed to undress and climb into the tub by himself. His face scrunched up again when he realized he hadn’t had a proper bath since the day he got back from chemo. “What’s wrong?” Steve asked from where he was sitting next to the tub. “I just remembered that it’s been like five days since I last had a bath,” he explained.

“Huh, I didn’t realize. Not exactly the first thing on any of our minds right now.”

“That’s true. Maybe we could make, like, a schedule? So I remember to have baths and to eat and take my pills and stuff like that.”

“That’s a really good idea, Pete. Yeah, we can definitely do that.”

Peter hummed in response, feeling so relaxed in the warm water. It made Steve smile, and he squeezed a blob of shampoo into his hand to wash the kid’s hair. Once he had rinsed it out, he washed it again. And, as always, Peter loved the feeling of having his hair played with, but it also made him a little anxious.

“How does it work?”

“How does what work, sweetie?”

“My hair. How… how fast?”

“Oh. I’m not sure. It’s not gonna come out all at once, but I don’t know how long it’ll take.”

“Okay.”

“Are you scared?”

“Yeah.”

“That’s okay. If you want, we can… we can shave your head when it starts falling out. Only if you want to. Your choice.”

“I think I want that. I don’t wanna- I just… It’s- I-” Peter groaned in frustration at not being able to arrange his thoughts into words.

“Hey, you’re alright. Deep breaths. We don’t have to talk about it anymore right now.”

But Peter had already been pushed over the edge, and was struggling to get a breath in. Steve noticed his chest moving up and down too fast, irregularly, and the way he was clenching his fists. He hated how used he was to recognizing and soothing anxiety attacks. Tony was an anxious, PTSD-ridden mess, and their boy had always been anxious as well; long before Steve came into their lives. Always a little hesitant, sensitive to the world and his own mind.

With Tony, he’d just have to be there. To be an anchor to keep him from slipping too far away. It was different with Peter. Still so young, still getting to know himself and didn’t know what to do when it felt like he was having a heart attack and his lungs seemed to shrink with each breath. He needed someone to guide him back.

While many shied away from physical contact when having an anxiety attack, Peter desperately needed it. Steve didn’t even have to think before he got in the bathtub, fully clothed, pushing Peter forward gently so he could hold him from behind. Putting grounding pressure on the boy’s chest with steady hands, he spoke with a calm, yet clear voice into his ear.

“Five things you can see, sweetheart.”

Peter fought to get enough air to speak, trying so hard to follow the rise and fall of Pop’s chest behind him. “M-my hands. Showerhead. Sham...shampoo. Wall. Cabi...net.”

“Good. Four things you can touch.”

“Tub. Water. T-towel. Your hands.” Shaky fingers brushed over Steve’s hands before he dropped them back into the water.

“Three things you can hear. You’re doing so good, baby.”

Peter let out a short sob and immediately heaved for his breath. “Pops, I-I-”

“You can do it. I promise. Three things you can hear.”

He squeezed his eyes shut. “Fan. You… you breathing. I don’t- I don’t know!”

“Yes, you do, you’re doing amazing. So good.”

“Water.” He had kicked his legs, causing some water to spill over the edge, splashing on the floor.

“I’m so proud of you. Two things you can smell now. Really focus, Petey, and you’ll be alright,” Steve encouraged.

He felt a little clearer. “Soap. You.”

“Good, Peter. One thing you can taste.”

“Banana.” The milkshake Steve had made for him.

His breathing was still unsteady, but Steve exaggerated his own ones while keeping hold of the boy. Peter had explained that it helped because he felt as if he were about to just float away and that was scary. He whispered encouragements into his ear, rocking them gently from side to side for several minutes until he felt Peter hands on his own again; this time they weren’t shaking as bad.

“You with me, Peter?”

“Yeah, Pops. Thanks. Sorry.”

“Don’t apologize, nothing’s your fault.” He loosened his grip a little.

“Your clothes are soaked.”

“I have other clothes. And these’ll dry up. No damage at all done.”

Peter’s head slumped to rest on Steve’s shoulder. “As much as I want to let you sleep, you have to get out of there first,” he said, gently pushing him up so he could get out himself first to get a towel for him. Peter climbed out after him, closing his eyes when he was wrapped up in the towel. Anxiety attacks always wore him out. They drained him. He heard Steve talking to FRIDAY, mentioning Tony, as he mindlessly got dressed.

The bathroom door opened, and when Peter saw his Dad, he lazily leaned into him, sighing in relief when he felt him holding him securely. The two husbands had a silent conversation, which ended with Steve kissing the back of Peter’s head and then Tony’s cheek. “I’ll be right out,” Steve promised, ushering them out to the bedroom so Peter could lie down.

FRIDAY had alerted Tony about the situation mid-fort-building, causing him to slump down in the couch. He reminded himself a hundred times that Peter would be okay and that Steve was taking care of him in order not to end up panicking himself. Successfully, he kept himself relatively calm and was ready when FRIDAY told him that Peter was okay, but that they needed him.

The second Tony got under the covers, Peter buried his face in his chest. Tony’s left hand went to the boy’s hair, carding through it gently. By the time Steve joined them, Peter was positively asleep. Lying on the other side of Peter, Steve put an arm over both of them, caressing Tony’s shoulder. “You okay, darling?” Steve whispered, noticing his husband’s blank gaze. It took Tony a second, but he pulled himself down, meeting Steve’s eyes. “Yeah.”

“Are you grounded?”

“Yeah. I’m good. Promise.”

“Good. I love you.”

“I love you too, honey.”

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Three and a half hours later when Steve woke up, it was almost four in the afternoon. Peter had turned around, now clutching at his shirt, but Tony’s hand hadn’t left the boy’s hair. Briefly, he considered getting up, but decided against it when Peter let out a huff and cuddled closer to him. He smiled, running a gentle hand down his arm before reaching over the boy to rest it on Tony’s waist.

A soft-spoken FRIDAY reminded him that it was nearly time for Peter to take some pills. As carefully as he could, he loosened Peter’s grip on his shirt, and pulled his arm out from under the boy’s light body. Peter mumbled something in his sleep, but otherwise stayed still. Rubbing his eyes, Steve tiptoed out of the room to get the pills needed from the kitchen.

Hopeful that Peter might even have an appetite, he dished up another smoothie for him, bringing that, the pills and a glass of water back to the bedroom. None of them had moved even an inch in their sleep, and Steve wished he could just let them be, but took a deep breath before gently shaking the boy’s shoulder.

“Peter, sweetie. You gotta wake up.” A small groan made him chuckle. “C’mon open your eyes, I can tell you’re awake,” Steve laughed, but Peter just groaned again, burying his face in the pillows. “Don’t make me bring out the tickle machine, kid,” Steve playfully warned, wiggling his fingers when Peter peeked up at him. Peter only yielded when he could feel fingers brushing over his sides.

“Okay, okay, I’m up!” he shrieked, and jerked away from Steve, startling Tony awake as he tried to cling to him for protection. “You good, Petey? Any reason you’re acting like a koala?” Tony laughed sleepily, but wrapped his arms around his son, making sure not to accidentally hurt him with his cast. He may or may not have - not on purpose - punched Steve in the face in his sleep several times. Steve could confirm that it hurt.

“Pops was trying to tickle me awake,” Peter giggled, sending a not at all harsh glare in Steve’s direction. “Oh, no, what a monster,” Tony gasped, clutching Peter to him even tighter. “Why was he waking you in the first place?”

Steve rattling a bottle of pills had Tony realizing the reason. After kissing his son on the forehead, he let him go so they could both sit up. Taking the pills noticeably affected the boy’s mood. He made a small grimace each time he swallowed one.

“Want a smoothie?” Steve offered him when he was done, holding it out for him. “Sure! Thanks, Pops,” Peter smiled. Genuine, but dulled. Eyes glossed over by lethargy. He drank it slowly, finishing the entire thing before sliding down to rest his head on Tony’s lap. The man carded his fingers through his son’s hair, a melancholic smile on his face as he heard soft snores coming from his mouth.

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The atmosphere was a lighter one that it had been a couple of weeks ago. They’d all gotten over the initial shock, and into a new rhythm. This was the way things were, and there was nothing to do but just live.

But Tony and Steve were a little worried about how Ned and MJ, who’d arrive at the compound in less than an hour, would handle it. First of all, they’d not seen him in weeks, and back then, he looked much healthier than now. The two dads weren’t sure how jarring of a change it was as they saw him every day. And, then, on top of that, were all the things that could go wrong. What if Peter got a migraine? Or puked his insides out? Or what if he simply had no energy to do anything but lie in bed? They were his best friends, they’d stay with him through anything, of course, but they were just kids. Or, what if one of them got a cold, and they’d have to send them back home immediately because Peter could not get sick.

“At some point, we’re gonna have to talk to their parents. Ask how much they think is okay for them to… to see,” Steve settled on, taking a sip of his coffee.

“I know. Let’s just let them enjoy this weekend for now, and I’ll set up a conference video call next week,” Tony agreed, sitting down on the other side of the kitchen island, facing his husband.

“How far out are they?” Leaning his chin on his right hand, Steve sported a lazy smile as he looked at Tony who unlocked his phone.

“About half an hour, loverboy.” When he had closed the app that showed Happy’s location, he met Steve’s loving gaze with a smirk of his own. “You’re very handsome, have I told you that?” Steve spoke with a low voice.

“Just every day for the past five years,” Tony laughed, reaching out to hold Steve’s hand. “Can’t believe I’m banging the Star Spangled Man with a Plan,” he teased, barely able to contain his laughter, making Steve snort. “You sure do know how to be romantic.” Steve got up to pour out his lukewarm coffee, stopping by Tony to kiss his temple, and leaned down so his lips were leveled with his ear. “And don’t kid yourself, doll. The Star Spangled Man with a Plan is the one banging you,” he whispered, poking his side, and chuckled smugly when his husband choked on his own spit.

“I’ll go get the kid,” Steve announced in an overly casual fashion. “Jeez, Steve,” the smaller man laughed breathily, trying to wrap his mind around what just happened. Shaking his head with a grin, he stood up, getting the pills for Peter ready. Just as he sat a glass of water down on the counter next to the pills, he heard two pairs of footsteps getting closer.

“Let’s pop some pills!” Peter exclaimed with fake enthusiasm when he spotted the bottles lined up. “Love the eagerness, let’s get to it,” Tony laughed, ruffling the kid’s hair when he’d sat down. Taking those pills were routine now, and part of that schedule he’d created with his dads. Tony had connected it to FRIDAY as well, so the AI notified Peter whenever he forgot something; like eating or if he went a little too long without a shower or a bath. He’d had a go at taking a shower instead of a bath, much to his dads’ apprehension who had stood right outside the bathroom door the entire time. It would be an understatement to say they were relieved when he admitted to it being a bit too taxing for him and that he’d much rather have baths.

“They’re here!” Peter burst out excitedly after having been on his phone for a little while. “MJ texted me saying they just parked.” The boy was beaming, but had to stretch out his limbs to try and make his achy bones feel a little better. Thankfully, it wasn’t nearly bad as it could be. He couldn’t help but let out a giddy laugh when he heard them just outside the door, and he stood up to go greet them.

Happy had made sure both teens were healthy before bringing them, explaining that just a cold could be dangerous for Peter. Ned solemnly swore that he was, and MJ just mumbled “same”. No matter how hard she tried to act indifferent, Ned could tell she was excited - and nervous - to see Peter again.

It showed particularly well when she raised herself slightly up on her toes as Happy unlocked the front door of Peter, Tony and Steve’s apartment. He let them enter first, just as Peter rounded the corner and came face to face with them.

“Ned! MJ!” he exclaimed happily, scurrying over to pull them in for a group hug. He didn’t even have to persuade MJ this time. She willingly brought her arms around the two shorter boys. “You look like hell,” she smirked, arms crossed over her chest when they’d pulled away. “Thanks,” Peter laughed, pleased that MJ was acting like… well, like MJ.

With smiles on their faces, Tony and Steve watched them reunite. When first greetings were over and done with, MJ picked up her bag and turned to look at the two men. “Sup, guys?” she said casually. “Nice to see you again, MJ,” Steve chuckled, and then ruffled Ned’s hair. “And you, Ned.” Tony shook his head fondly, and made eye contact with Happy who was standing just inside the door. “They behave nicely on the way up?” he asked playfully. “Mostly, except for when they harassed me into getting them sundaes from McDonald's,” Happy faked annoyance.

“What were you expecting? We’re kids,” MJ deadpanned, but Peter was sure he saw the right corner of her lips lift just a tiny bit. The two boys had become quite good at reading MJ to understand her actual sentiment. “Come on, I’ll show you where we’re sleeping,” Peter said, motioning for them to follow him. He only had one bed in his own room, so he’d asked very nicely if the three of them could use the biggest guest room where there were two king sized ones. He’d share with Ned, as they’d done hundreds of times throughout the years.

Apart from seeing the obvious physical change Peter had gone through since they last saw him, MJ noticed very clearly how slowly he was walking. She was used to a ball of energy who took long, quick steps, but now he was shuffling along at a much slower pace. His baggy clothes hid how skinny he’d actually gotten, but his gaunt face and bony wrists were good indicators. Ned frowned when he saw Peter kept squeezing his right forearm as if it was hurting, but didn’t say anything. Because Peter looked so happy. He understood why his mom had warned him that it would be different.

As soon as they’d settled in, the three of them sat on Ned and Peter’s bed, watching a vine compilation, acting them all out. “Oh, I forgot, you guys are probably hungry if you only had an ice cream earlier,” Peter suddenly remembered, adjusting his position to relieve some of the pain. “I could eat,” MJ shrugged. “Yeah, same,” Ned agreed.

“Pizza?” Peter suggested, to which he received two affirmative nods. “FRIDAY? Ask Dad or Pops if we can order pizza.”

“Will do,” the AI confirmed, and in the few seconds it took for her to get back to them, he confirmed that Ned wanted pepperoni and MJ wanted vegetarian. Nothing had changed there.

“Just let me know what you want, and the pizza will be here less than half an hour,” FRIDAY explained, and so Peter did just that. He was pretty sure he wouldn’t be able to eat any of it, but he was happy to get his best friends the food they wanted. He wasn’t about to serve them soggy corn flakes.

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“Okay, that is just miserable,” MJ commented, her mouth full of pizza as she watched Peter eat his cereal. “So I’ve heard,” Peter laughed as he took another bite. “I can pick off everything on a piece for you if you wanna try it?” Ned offered, feeling bad for his best friend.

“Thanks, Ned, but chemo kinda makes things taste weird,” Peter declined, deliberately leaving out the mouth sores. He wasn’t sure how much he wanted them to know. How much they could hear before it made them pity him even more - which he most certainly did not want. What they could see without being told seemed to be enough.

So he didn’t tell them that his bones and muscles were aching. That he could barely keep his eyes open. When he had to take pills before going to bed, he only told them he was going to say good night to his dads. And he didn’t say anything when MJ and Ned put on a movie he was too tired to even register the name of. He only fell asleep against Ned’s shoulder, who in turn carefully manoeuvred him down so he was comfortable, and tucked him in. MJ watched on with a skeptical face. She didn’t know how she was supposed to feel, and she didn’t like that.

Before Ned could notice the look on her face, she scooted down in her bed, turning to face the wall. “Good night,” she said, barely loud enough for Ned to hear, but he whispered back. “Night, MJ.”

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Peter woke up at four thirty in the morning. It took him a few seconds to figure out that what had woke him up was… nothing? Both of his friends were deeply asleep, snoring lightly. Only thing he noticed was that he had to pee a little. So he got out of bed, tiptoeing to the en-suite.

With an empty bladder, he returned to bed. But as he laid there, bones still aching a little, he couldn’t seem to fall asleep.

Forty five minutes later, Steve and Tony were filled in on the situation by FRIDAY, the AI having been updated to notify them when something was out of the ordinary with Peter. You could say that the two dads had grown a little paranoid.

“Right, uhm… What about Ned and MJ?” Tony yawned, not overly concerned. Peter was just awake. There wasn’t anything wrong.

“Both asleep, sir. Would you like me to wake them?”

“No, let them sleep. Thanks, FRI. Let us know if Peter is still awake in half an hour.”

“Got it, boss.”

“He’s been sleeping a lot lately. Maybe he’s just not tired,” Steve attempted as an explanation as to why their son would be awake at the ass crack of dawn.

“Hope so,” Tony sighed, cuddling up to his husband. He always felt so right with Steve’s arms around him. “You better not keep yourself awake just in case Peter’s not falling back asleep,” Steve warned, burying his nose in Tony’s hair.

“I won’t,” Tony sighed, aware of the fact that Steve had become the master of soothing him to sleep. The larger man hummed in acknowledgment as he ran his fingers slowly up and down Tony’s back, satisfied when he felt his breathing slow down. Steve soon followed him in his light slumber.

Not that it lasted very long. Just as instructed, FRIDAY notified them again, thirty minutes later, that Peter was still awake.

“I’ll just shoot him a text. FRI would’ve told us if anything was wrong,” Tony mumbled, rubbing his eyes, to which Steve agreed.

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dad: You alright? Fri says you’ve been awake for a while

Petey: yeah im fine

Petey: just cant sleep

dad: You sure? I can bring you some food if you’re hungry?

Petey: nahh i dont really have an appetite right now

dad: Alright, bud. Let us know if you need anything, okay?

Petey: okay i love u guys

dad: We love you too

Petey: oh and dad?

dad: Yeah?

Petey: go to sleep

dad: Ditto, kid. If you can

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“What’re you laughing at?” Steve smiled, to which Tony turned his phone, which felt strangely light in his hands, for Steve to see better. Reading over the texts quickly, Steve chuckled. “I agree with him, hun.” He grabbed Tony’s phone, putting it back on the bedside table before pulling him close again.

“It’s a miracle how well you’ve been sleeping these past few weeks,” Steve mumbled, lips brushing over Tony’s temple. They both knew too well that his insomnia thrived whenever he was stressed.

“Guess there’s no room for it.”

He sounded so drained, it made Steve’s breath hitch ever so slightly. “Is it crowded in there?”

“Yeah. Empty too.”

“You wanna talk about it?”

“I don’t know if I can.” Tony’s voice was distant with a hint of fear. Steve furrowed his brows, moving so he could see his husband’s face. More specifically his eyes. They were distant too. He’d only seen that look in his eyes and heard him talk like that once before. That was very early in their relationship, when the nightmares and the panic attacks - which he hid from Steve - about flying through a wormhole became too much and his brain floated away. Everything existed through a lense.

“Tony. Tony, look at me,” he demanded gently when he didn’t meet his eyes like he usually did.

“I’m- I’m going, Stevie,” Tony whispered, the words not even feeling like they came from his own mouth. His fingers curled, and it frustrated him that he couldn’t remember having told them to do that.

“You’ll push through it. You did it last time.”

“Mhm.”

“Go to sleep. I know it doesn’t feel like it, but I’m right here, and you’re right here. I’ve got you.”

“I love you.” The words spoke themselves, leaving Tony with a confused look on his face.

“I love you too. You’ll push through.” Steve sent him a look of concern. Last time it had taken three days. Tony had no memory of it, except for how overwhelming snapping out of it had been. How loud, bright, clear and solid everything was.

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“Peter? Why are you awake? It’s only nine,” MJ whispered as not to disturb Ned when she had opened her eyes, looking over to the bed next to hers. She knew Peter liked to sleep in late when he could. Peter shrugged. “Woke up, and just couldn’t sleep,” he explained.

She studied him with a suspicious look, but deciding to let him off the hook, she didn’t say anything. “Wanna put on a movie?” Peter suggested, knowing Ned was a heavy sleeper. “Sure,” she yawned, relaxing back against her pillow.

“FRI? Just put on… I don’t know, Mulan, I guess?” Peter spoke, at a low volume, and turned over to see if MJ agreed with his choice. She sent him a thumbs up. FRIDAY turned on the TV, and made sure it wasn’t too loud, as she had detected how quietly Peter spoke to her.

By the time Mulan had flawlessly wiped all her makeup off, MJ had fallen back asleep. With a sigh, Peter decided to get up. Steve was a morning person, maybe he was up? Peter shuffled to the living room, but found no other people awake, so he just plopped down on the couch, telling FRIDAY to keep playing Mulan, but on the screen in front of him instead of the one in the bedroom.

Steve joined him not much later, pulling his son to him so his head was resting on his chest, and he could run his fingers through his hair. Tony was still sleeping, and Steve hated that he dreaded him waking up. He didn’t want to see his husband struggling to even just function, and he was desperately hoping that dissociation would let him go as soon as possible.

“Where’s MJ and Ned?” Steve inquired softly.

“Still asleep. Didn’t wanna wake them yet.”

“And you couldn’t sleep?”

“Guess I’m rested,” the boy shrugged.

“You sure? ‘Cause when you came to say good night, it was almost one am, and you woke up before five.” Steve was concerned.

“I know.” Peter didn’t want to talk about it, cuddling closer to his Pops instead.

“Okay, sweetheart,” Steve smiled, and kissed the top of the boy’s head.

“Captain, Sir just woke up,” FRIDAY informed them. It made Peter scrunch his face in confusion and look up at his Pops.

“Why’s she telling you that?”

Steve lied on the spot. “So I can haul him out of bed and make breakfast for all of us. Why don’t you go wake up Ned and MJ, and FRIDAY will let you know when food’s ready,” he grinned, ruffling the boy’s hair carefully.

The man kept the smile on his face until he heard the door to the guest room close, and then dropped his cheery facade. He’d asked the AI to let him know when Tony woke up because he remembered how stuck he was last time when he woke up alone.

It only hurt a little when he was met with Tony lying flat on his back, staring at what looked to be the ceiling. However, upon getting closer, it was clear that he wasn’t really looking at anything.

“Hey, Steve. I love you,” Tony mumbled, his lips moving by their own accord. His head fell to one side, eyes meeting Steve’s. They were filled with nothing; seemingly a void of the man they belonged to. In an attempt to make him feel real, Steve cupped one of Tony’s cheeks - the one that wasn’t smushed down in his pillow, that is.

“Hey, Tony. I love you too.”

Present him Tony, mid-anxiety attack, and he’d know exactly how to make it better. But, this - Tony dissociated, distant, barely present in his own body - this was foreign. Having only seen it once before, it was all trial and error. It was to Tony, too. It was only the third time it had happened to him. The first time was when he’d escaped the Ten Rings and was wandering aimlessly through the desert. Rhodey had managed to snap him out of it when he put his hand on his shoulder. Not that he knew that back then. In fact, he still didn’t know. Steve didn’t know about that either.

In other words, he had no idea how to get himself out of a dissociative episode. First, it had been Rhodey, and then there was Steve.

“How’s Peter?” Tony asked on autopilot, squeezing his eyes shut for a second to try and make everything a little clearer. Steve sported a painful smile.

“He’s okay. It’s almost time for breakfast. You need to get up.” He’d learned not to give him a choice. Last time, it seemed to only make it worse. He couldn’t find his own mind, so Steve guided him instead.

With an affirmative hum, Tony pushed himself up, feeling light. Steve made it better, so he reached for his hand, closing his eyes when he felt him taking hold of his. “You’re right here,” Steve promised.

“I know.”

“I know you know. But look at me, honey.” Steve cupped his face to get as much attention as Tony could muster. “You’re here,” he briefly removed one hand from face to guide one of Tony’s hands to his chest. “You feel that? That’s your heartbeat. And you breathing.”

“I know. I love you”

“I love you too.”

Tony knew these things. That’s why they were so hard to grasp onto. He knew his heart was beating and that he was breathing. Those were constants. Just like Steve. He couldn’t seem to hold onto him either. He was always there. But he did his best. Even though it felt like he was watching through a window, he tried to cling to his husband’s voice. His promises and reassurances and his voice. It was all so safe. But he still couldn’t seem to get back into his own brain.

Getting up, Steve quickly picked out something comfortable for Tony to wear, which he changed into fairly quickly. “C’mon,” Steve encouraged, grabbing his husband’s right hand. Gently, he pulled him along, but stopped in his tracks when Tony winced and let out a swear. He turned around to see what had happened.

“Went to itch my eye, forgot about the cast,” Tony mumbled, and started walking again. “I love you, Steve.”

“I love you too, Tony.” Steve was curious if that was an attempt to snap out of it, but didn’t ask. Tony had told him that he loved him three times in the last ten minutes, his brows furrowing a little each time.

“What’s for breakfast?” Tony asked, sitting down at the kitchen island. He was trying so hard to pull himself together for Peter’s sake. Didn’t want to let his little boy know anything was wrong.

“Pancakes. I thought I’d ask if Rhodey wanted some as well.”

“Good.”

While having Rhodey over was always a delight, this time it was to see if he could help Tony. Steve told FRIDAY to invite Rhodey over for breakfast, and a few silent seconds later, the AI informed him that he’d be there in ten minutes time.

Even though it was through a filter, the sound of Peter’s laugh never failed to make smile. “Good morning, sweetheart,” he grinned when he saw his son. “Mornin’, Dad,” Peter beamed back, his two friends following right behind him, mumbling out good mornings of their own. The three teens sat down at the kitchen island, Peter next to Tony, and the other two facing them.

MJ got back up again. “I can set the table,” she offered casually.

“No, it’s okay,” Steve assured her.

“You’ve literally set the plates ready on the counter, I think I can manage,” she decided, picking them up, and placing them on the kitchen island. “Where’s the cutlery? And drinking glasses?” she asked, making it clear that Steve was going to let her set the table.

So Steve reached over to open one of the cabinet doors to show her the glasses, and then pointed to the drawers right next to the girl. “And cutlery’s right there. Thank you, MJ.”

“Yeah, yeah, don’t sweat it,” MJ brushed it away, and finished the task in no time, soon back to sitting next to Ned.

Tony hung onto the three kids’ rambling, finding it comforting. He did his best to act normal, mostly just smiling at their antics. Ever the observant one, MJ could tell something was off, her eyes lingering suspiciously one the man’s distant eyes, but she didn’t say anything. Peter hadn’t noticed, and neither had Ned.

The front door opened, and soon after, Rhodey walked into the kitchen, big smile on his face when he saw all of them. “Long time, no see,” he exclaimed, standing behind Ned and MJ, one hand on each teen’s shoulder. He chatted to them about what they’d been doing since he last saw them. Ned did most of the storytelling, MJ shooting in a sarcastic comment here and there, or correcting Ned whenever he got too dramatic.

When about half of the pancakes were done, Steve put a plate with them on in the middle of the kitchen island, telling them to help themselves. Peter even grabbed one, taking a small bite, looking pleased when he’d swallowed it.

“Did you like it?” Steve asked, doing his best to hide how delighted and surprised he was by occupying himself with getting a place set for Rhodey as well. Stuffing another bite into his mouth, Peter nodded with a smile. The texture was soft enough, and the flavor wasn’t overwhelming. Steve was relieved to have discovered another food his son would eat. Passing his husband, Steve whispered discreetly in his ear to remind him to eat. Tony blinked once and picked up his utensils, eating away at the two pancakes on his plate.

────────

The day flew by, the kids spending it inside - eating snacks, watching movies, playing video games, and the occasional board game. You might think MJ would be good at chess, but no. Ned was even worse, and just watched as his two best friends played round after round - Peter was having a lot of fun. He’d won four times in a row, but MJ didn’t seem to mind.

“Checkmate,” Peter smirked, again, MJ rolling her eyes playfully. “Wanna go back to the PlayStation?” he asked, which had the girl’s eyes widen.

“Yes, please!” she agreed immediately. Peter furrowed his brows in confusion at how relieved she sounded. MJ noticed, and explained. “Losing to you was starting to get boring.”

“Why didn’t you say so?” Peter fretted, feeling really guilty.

“You were having fun,” MJ shrugged, as if it was the most natural thing in the world. She made it clear that that conversation was over when she made quick work of putting the chess board away. Then she handed each boy a controller after having grabbed one for herself.

Meanwhile, after hours of trying to act as normal as possible, Steve had brought Tony outside in an attempt to help him. Rhodey was with them too. Steve had explained the situation when they’d finished breakfast. “Do you feel the wind?” Rhodey asked, flinching when a particularly cold gust of wind hit them. Tony didn’t seem to notice.

“Yeah,” he whispered, even so. He could feel himself cooling down and the way it was blowing his hair in all directions. They walked around, Steve steering them from lawn, to gravel, to asphalt and back around again. When he was getting too cold for comfort, he figured Tony and Rhodey would be as well, so he cocked his head towards the building - a silent question to Rhodey who nodded in response.

“Feels nice,” Tony commented when he felt the warm air inside.

“It does,” Steve agreed, proud smile on his lips.

Realizing it was almost eight already, Steve set course for the kitchen. Rhodey gently pushed Tony in the same direction, and they followed the larger man.

Lasagna was on tonight’s menu. Steve had Tony smell every ingredient to stimulate his senses as much as possible. Whenever Tony slipped a bit too far away, Steve grabbed his right hand firmly, cupping his right cheek with the other to reel him in. It made Tony smile each time, and even brighter when he kissed his forehead. If Steve didn’t notice, Rhodey would sling an arm around his best friend and squeeze his bicep, speaking softly to him.

With only a few minutes left until the lasagna was done, Steve cooked some noodles for Peter before getting FRIDAY to tell the kids to come to the kitchen for dinner.

Peter greeted them with a yawn and a wave. “Tired, Pete?” Tony asked, putting a hand on his shoulder when he sat down next to him; the same place they’d sat at breakfast. “Just a little,” the boy admitted, leaning into his father, who wrapped an arm around him. Steve was proud. And it went up for him that Peter was what helped him the most in situations like these, even if the boy had no clue that he was doing anything at all.

This time, Steve had set the table before telling the kids to come to the kitchen, and received a smirk from MJ. He chuckled at her, patting her shoulder when he walked past her to get the oven mitts.

A nervous look on his face, Peter didn’t seem up to eating the lasagna. Before the boy could say anything, Steve put the bowl of noodles in front of him. “Thanks,” he simpered.

Ned hadn’t even swallowed his first bite when he complimented the dish. “I say this every time, but this is even better than my mom’s.”

“Thank you, Ned,” Steve laughed heartily.

“You’re still not allowed to tell her, though,” Ned warned with a smile playing on his lips, making Steve raise his hands in surrender.

“I would never,” the man swore, making the sign of the cross. Peter giggled at their antics, and was, as always, genuinely happy that his friends got along so well with his family.

────────

Come two am, and Peter was still wide awake. Ned and MJ were too, refusing to go to sleep before their best friend.

“Just go to sleep, I’m fine,” Peter argued, repeating himself for the fifth time that night.

“So are we. Let’s put on another movie. FRIDAY, uh… The Philosopher’s Stone,” MJ decided, the movie soon playing on the TV in front of their beds.

“Seriously, guys, I appreciate, but I don’t wanna keep you up and ruin your sleeping, you’ve got school an-”

“Shh, I’m trying to watch,” MJ interrupted him, and he let out a long sigh. He felt really bad for them.

Ned knew his best friend like the back if his hand, and decided to try one of the things that always helped him fall asleep - playing with his hair. “Put your head on my lap,” he quietly told Peter, who happily did as he was told.

“Yer a wizard, Harry,” Peter mumbled, closing his eyes for a second when Ned started massaging his scalp, and running his fingers through his curls.

Ten minutes of that, and he should’ve been asleep, but he was still wide awake, getting a little annoyed that he couldn’t even manage to fall asleep, but had a nice time watching Harry Potter.

He was brought out of his calm state when Ned let out a whimper. “MJ,” he quavered, and it caught her attention immediately, having never once heard Ned speak like that. She looked at them for a good five seconds before hurrying over to their bed.

“What’s wrong?” Peter asked, sitting up, the way they were acting making him really anxious. None of his two friends knew what to say, but then he spotted Ned’s hand, and something dark in the middle of it. Peter touched it, and realized that it was a clump of hair. His hair.

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