There's always a first time for everything right? Well, here goes my first attempt at writing for the Marvel fandom. I hope it's okay and I wouldn't mind writing more Gen fics about these two bros.
Anyways the prompt used: Panic Attacks
Peter had been doing fine.
The weeks were flying by with an air of ease and balance. His grades were still soaring without a hitch and, his friends were still amusing and comforting when he felt the need to find a good laugh. Even if his aunt May, was still a little more hesitant when he left their apartment after learning about his current lifestyle of fighting crime. His time with Mr. Stark was just as pleasant that he should have seen it coming. Of the ominous trench of uncertainty lurking when Peter became too lenient from the foreseeable future as a friendly neighborhood vigilante.
It curled silently around his lungs, the chill of fear from all the dangers he already conquered swept into his senses as if they were creeping like the first time.
Leaving him vulnerable, his own voice dropped. There was hardly a place to settle when all he could concentrate was the panic stretching in his lungs. It seemed almost too odd to have all his fears rushing when he was safe. There were no villains wreaking havoc, no alarms blaring off into the distance, Peter Parker was alone in his room. The window was half open giving him a small current of air flowing in and out, the sound of cars and people moving forward were momentarily forgotten.
All his thoughts were jumbled weeds of insecurities plucking his rationality away from the chance for him breaking free from the trance of paranoia and anxiety in his system.
Of all afternoons for his aunt and friends to be gone his weariness was crashing full front to him.
He slumped down, his breathing though hoarse was slowly evening out the more he pressed to calm himself down. The glow from his phone across of him blinked. Hesitation rearranged his body as he considered his options, he could fake his cheeriness or he could deny the call entirely and wait until he had his bearings.
Two things happened instead:
1. Peter looked at who called him.
2. He accidentally brushed his fingers to accept the call.
Which earned him a mortifying conclusion of Peter Parker making his debut as a crybaby hero to one of his role models. He hated that there was this union of bad luck springboarded his confidence and fatalities. Weakness of heart was not something that he wanted Mr. Stark to be aware that he possessed. If anything, Peter just wanted it all to stop. He needed a placement where the world didn't spin so fast that tomorrow was only coming closer than he liked.
What didn't help matters was the second he opened his mouth, his volume and tone betrayed him. It was like that time when he once tried to bail out of something mundane when Uncle Ben had been freshly gone. It was lifeless as it was painful to hear him croak.
"Hey, kid. Are you alright?"
The seconds that separated him from reality was thick. He almost choked out a denial, but when he opened his mouth his words left him too vulnerable.
"Mr. Stark." He started out too weak, "I've been better."
"You aren't in your suit." Mr. Stark voiced a fact.
One that made Peter feel even more useless, because of course, Peter Parker, the loser behind the shadow of Spider-Man was in the middle of breaking.
Not from a villain fighting him, or from another kind of disaster that made it sensible that Peter was having trouble.
He was just Peter Parker, a boy that was trying his best to not cry or give a hint that the panic attack that was still so fresh could take him whole.
"Peter?" there was a rustle in the background of someone moving. "Peter? Are you still with me?"
He looked at the wall in front of him, "Yes."
He was aware of Mr. Stark's concern and the ordeal that wading off him. It made his lungs burn with the thought of the off-screen trouble he was causing because Peter couldn't control his feelings. Because his trials of being a superhero was harder to manage than he originally thought since his success with the Vulture fiasco.
"Mr. Stark, I'm okay."
Even if he said out loud for the both of them to hear, it still felt like a lie. One that Peter desperately wished was true every time he felt this hopeless and lost.
"No, you aren't. Are you alone? Do you want me to come over?"
Peter was alone, and it would be hours before his aunt would come home. Besides his phone call with his mentor, the silence in his apartment was deafening. And strangely enough, he didn't think he could take another call or text from anybody else than Mr. Stark at the moment. He wanted to reject the offer of disrupting someone else's schedule but he wanted to be selfish.
"I don't think—aren't you busy?"
On the other line the shuffling didn't stop. "I'm never too busy for you Spider-Kid."
In the midst of his dark thoughts a small bubble of warmth circulated his body at the thought that he wouldn't be alone for long. It was almost as if...
"Man, Mr. Stark." there was a small chuckle filling in the air, "It's Spider-Man."
"I'll be there in fifteen minutes."
Like there was a stretch of hope surfacing into his view.
"Okay."