There was something soft, strapped to his face. His chest felt heavy, and his eyes felt puffy, like he'd been crying. He was so tired. So, so tired.
He lifted a trembling hand to his face, covered by what appeared to be an oxygen mask, only to have a small hand gently guide his hand away from it. He opened his eyes slowly, hissing slightly at the bright, near-unbearable light that shone into them.
Fucking hell… he thought. And, apparently, said, when a stern "language!" was heard from someone who could only be Charlotte.
"W-what- where am-" His voice was unbearably raspy. Someone pressed a cup to his lips, and cold water ran down his throat.
"You scared the hell out of me, Tones!" Charlotte admonished. "One minute we're talkin' and the next you're on the floor, hyperventilating-"
"W-what?"
"It would seem you had an anxiety attack, Mr Stark," a kind voice said. He looked up. It was the nurse. The nurse who had found him after Howard had beaten him to a pulp in the waiting room. And then had proceeded to leave him….
"Fuck you," he spat, mind still fuzzy. He turned over on his side. He was on a hospital bed, for the time being, it would seem. Because of an anxiety attack.
Well that's fucking stupid.
"Tony!" Charlotte gasped, shocked. The nurse merely smiled understandingly.
"I'd like to apologise for what I did," the nurse said. "I shouldn't have left you in there on your own without helping you. That was wrong. I'm supposed to be a healthcare professional - I can't go leaving injured boys by themselves." Tony glared at her.
"I could have had a bad concussion," he said. The idea to be angry with the nurse had only occurred to him after seeing her again, after she had left him alone in that waiting room, beaten, bruised, bloody.
"Yes, you could have," the nurse acknowledged. "Which is why I'm sorry for leaving you." Tony nodded. Then stopped. "I'm sorry, anxiety attack? Me? "
"I'm going to assume this is the first time this has happened," the nurse said.
"I- uh, I think so?" He thought back, to when he was younger, hiding in his bed under the covers, sobbing when his breaths got short. After Mary had told him she was pregnant.
Nowhere near as bad as this one. It didn't even come close. But the nurse didn't need to know that.
"No. No, it hasn't ever happened before," Tony said. "This would be a first." The nurse looked skeptical, but nodded.
"Okay," she said. "Well, it might just be a one time thing then. But if it has happened before, it may continue happening. Anxiety attacks are basically a physical reaction to stress, and no offence, but you don't seem like you get a lot of down time." Tony shrugged. "Well! It's nothing to be overly worried about, in any case. I'd recommend practicing breathing exercises, for when this does happen, just in case. Maybe see a doctor, if it continues happening, but there's really nothing more you can do for it, I'm afraid." Apparently she had seen right through his 'this has never happened before' lie.
"Alrighty, then," the nurse said. "You can stay here, if you like - I know you must be tired. But if you want to get up and go back to the ICU, there's nothing stopping you. Just make sure you get a lot of rest some time today, and you should be okay." She clapped her hands together, smiling. "I have to go. I've got to get some blood for lab work and all that-"
"It's okay," Tony said. "Go ahead." The nurse nodded, leaving the hospital room. Tony sighed, relaxing back against the bed, if only for a moment, before he had to get up again. It was surprisingly comfortable, for a hospital bed. Or maybe he was just tired.
Probably the latter.
"I hope you know I'm not letting you get out of bed," Charlotte informed him.
"That's not your decision."
"I'll tell Momma."
"You wouldn't."
"Don't test me, boy."
"Fine," he relented, because he really was tired. "Thirty minutes."
"An hour."
"Forty-five minutes."
" Tony. "
"Fine. An hour."
"Thank you." She crossed her legs, leaning back in her hospital chair.
"Give me Peter."
The baby in questions was in her arms, drooling on her shoulder. She was clearly uncomfortable, but she still shook her head no.
"You're going to be asleep, Tones. You don't need to be holding the baby."
"I've slept holding him before!"
"What if you have another anxiety attack or something?"
"That's not gonna happen. It's a reaction to stress. I'm not stressed. I'm fine. Completely fine."
"Yep. I totally believe that." Tony clenched his jaw.
"Charlotte," he said, trying to hold back an anger he didn't understand. "Give me. My son."
"I don't think that's a good idea, Tony-"
" He's my baby! " Tony shouted. " Mine. Not yours! Mine! I know whether I can hold him or not!"
"Tony..."
"GIVE ME THE BABY!"
Charlotte's face went hard and stony. She sighed as Peter started to wail quietly, obviously startled by the loud noise. His small face went red, and a tear slipped down his face.
"You scared him."
"He wouldn't be scared if you had given him to me!" Tony shouted, feeling like he was going to start crying right along with the baby. He was so tired. So, so tired. And Peter had been dead. Dead.
Charlotte's shoulders slumped, before he passed the baby over to him. Tony held him tightly, rocking him back and forth, humming a tune he couldn't quite remember under his breath. The baby calmed slightly, eyes slipping closed as he tired himself out. Tony sighed, letting his own eyes slide closed, focusing on the sound of his son's breathing.
Mary began to start to wake up early the next morning, while Tony was still sleeping. It had been a long process, answering all of her confused questions, only for her to pass out and ask the same questions later on. It was a little worrying for Tony, when he was told, but the doctors assured him it was perfectly normal. That she'd be back to her old self in no time.
Tony hoped so. God, he hoped so.
"Hey, Princess," Tony said when Mary woke up again later that day. Peter was asleep in a bassinet in the corner, borrowed from the hospital. Mary had a blank look on her face, blinking at him sleepily.
"Tony?" she said, voice raspy. Tony nodded.
"Yeah. It's me," he said, smiling at her. Mary smiled back, though she made it look like it took a lot of energy. "You gave us quite the scare there, Mary."
Mary looked confused.
"What? Why?"
Tony sighed. He reached out a hand, running it through her hair, and smiled at her sadly.
"I'll explain later," he said. She'll just forget anyway… "How you feeling?"
Mary blinked up at him, as if searching for the right answer. She looked so lost, and it made Tony's heart ache. But at the same time, it was so good to actually see her awake . It had been far too long since he had heard her voice.
"I don't know," she eventually answered. "I feel all floaty. An' achy." She frowned. "Tony, what happened?" Her voice was laced with something akin to panic.
"You…. Took a little tumble. But you're okay. You're gonna be fine."
"W-what..." Her face went pale. "The baby? Is the baby okay? What happened to the baby?"
He wasn't sure how to answer her in a way that wouldn't overwhelm her. How was he supposed to tell her that the baby was already born, that he was almost a month old?
"They're fine," Tony said, deciding it would be best to let her believe she was still pregnant, for the time being. Until she was lucid enough to hear the truth. "Our baby is fine. Just fine." Mary nodded, relaxing. It looked like all the tension had left her body at once, and she started blinking up at him sleepily.
"Go ahead and go back to sleep," Tony said. "I'll be here when you wake up." Mary nodded.
"I love ya, Tones," Mary murmured sleepily. Tony had to choke back a sob.
"I love you too, Princess."
Mary started waking up for long stretches of time and remembering conversations shortly after that. Which left the explaining. Which, of course, fell on Tony. Because why not.
It wasn't like they could just leave her believing she was still pregnant. For one, it was impractical - when she noticed how flat her belly had gotten, and she was bound to notice, she would figure it out. Not to mention it would just be unnecessarily cruel.
And so, Tony explained everything. Which was… a tad bit difficult.
It had been a day and a half since she had woken up. She was still exhausted, immeasurably so, but she wasn't going to pass out on him anymore, which he was grateful for.
"Hey, Princess," Tony said, walking into the hospital room. Peter was being watched by a nurse in another room, for the time being, so Tony could talk to Mary. Tony wasn't sure whether to be grateful for that or not. On the one hand, it would probably be easier to talk to her about this without a baby being in the room. On the other hand, Tony really didn't like being away from Peter for extended periods of time. But he supposed it was necessary, in this situation.
"Hi, Tones," Mary said quietly.
"Look, Mary..." He gulped. He wasn't sure how he was supposed to start this conversation. "We need to talk."
Well, let's drag this out then, shall we?
"What… what is it?" Mary asked, looking alarmed. Tony sighed.
"It's about the baby."
Mary froze. She didn't move. She didn't blink.
"What about the baby?" she finally asked.
"The baby was born. Before they put you into the coma, they performed an emergency c-section, per your request, and delivered the baby. It's a boy."
"O-okay. Is… is he alright?" Mary asked.
"Oh, he's fine, Mary," Tony said. "He's fine right now. But he wasn't a little while ago. He's too small, his lungs weren't funny developed… he'll probably need an inhaler when he's older. He was in the NICU, for a while, and he's fine now but… the doctors were pretty sure he wasn't going to make it. But he did. And he's fine. So don't worry."
Mary stared at him.
"You just told me my kid was on the brink of death and I'm just supposed to not worry? Are you kidding me, Tones?"
"That-that's fair."
"Where's the baby now? Can I see him?" Mary asked.
"Uh, he's in the next room over. With a nurse. I'll go get him." He stood up quickly, leaving the hospital room and heading toward the room his son resided in. He thanked the nurse and grabbed the baby, holding him against his chest with a sigh. The baby gurgled away innocently, entirely oblivious to the conflict going on around him.
That's probably for the best, Tony thought, running his fingers through Peter's unruly mop of hair. He steeled himself, turned out of the room, and headed back to Mary's hospital room.
Peter had to meet his mother.