Air I Breathe

Chapter 20

Chapter 20

Wednesday, January 22

"You wanna try with or without the oxygen?" Tony asks as he and Peter enter the gym on the 48th floor of the Tower. He sets the oxygen tank and his gym bag down in the corner, gestures toward a small row of treadmills.

"Without," Peter decides, dropping his backpack to the floor.

"You did your treatment after school?"

"I'm not going to die from walking on a treadmill, Tony," Peter jokes, but he feels bad about it almost immediately, is just apprehensive, can't help but worry that their plan to get Peter conditioned is going to explode in their faces. They've both been so busy, Peter overwhelmed with midterms and Tony booked solid with meetings. "Sorry. I'm...I'm nervous and I'm stressed right now? I'm trying not to think about everything, but I'm thinking about everything."

"No catastrophizing. Today is a trial run. We do the best that we can and we stop when we need to stop, okay?"

"I don't know when I should stop and when I should keep going, though."

"We'll figure that out together, I guess, because I don't really know either."

Peter places his feet onto the sides of his treadmill and attaches the safety clip as Tony sets the machine to a speed a step above walking.

"Don't push it, kiddo. Take it slow," Tony warns as Peter walks to match the pace of the machine.

"Not like I have much of a choice," he quips.

"Your oxygen level is 98, so I think we're good. Let me know if you think you need the oxygen, though."

"Not gonna need it."

"You being stubborn or honest?" Tony asks as he hops onto his own treadmill and starts the machine.

"Both?"

"Sounds about right."

Tony has FRIDAY play some classic rock, quizzes Peter a bit like he did in the car to get the kid's mind off of everything. They're about fifteen minutes in, with Tony at a brisk walk that's borderline jogging, when Tony notices that Peter's starting to struggle. He's gripping the sides of the treadmill like his life depends on it, is clumsily placing one foot in front of the other to keep going.

"How you doing, kiddo?"

"Aren't you tired?" Peter asks, slightly wheezy.

"Yes," Tony answers honestly, panting, but he knows he can go another ten minutes, just walking, of course, if he wants to.

"So, then, we don't have to...keep doing this, right?"

"We're doing this because we have to, not because we want to."

"I can't tell if I should...stop," he admits. It's harder to pull air in, but it's not awful, feels just like it does when he climbs the stairs at school because the elevator is slow.

Tony leans over to glance at Peter's watch. "You're 95. Up to you, kiddo. You can try with the oxygen or you can stop."

"Or I can just...keep going."

"Yeah, no, plowing through isn't going to help anyone. Use the data you have to make an informed choice."

"Easier to just keep...going," Peter pants.

"Yeah, and we saw where that got you before." Tony presses the STOP button on his machine and then Peter's, waits for both treadmills to stop before helping Peter off and to sit on a nearby bench. He lets Peter adjust the oxygen beneath his nose, hands him his inhaler and spacer from his backpack, and watches as he takes the medication and tries to calm his breathing down. "You'll get better at this, at knowing your body," Tony reminds him.