Chapter 58

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Tony P

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Tony P.O.V

I called Clint to apologize, and he basically told me I need to do better, with Callie, with Steve, and I agreed. He also offered to take the kid again for the whole weekend next time, which I accepted gratefully, and then he asked to talk to Steve so I handed off the phone and escaped to my bedroom.

Once alone, I allow myself to totally break down, the panic attack surging, I sit down on the couch and envelop my head in my hands.

Visions of my father wailing on my ass flash through my mind, and I feel sick to my stomach. I'm gasping through my sobs, my chest has become tight and breathing is suddenly incredibly difficult.

Someone grasps my shoulders making me jump, "hey Tony, are you okay?" Bruce is kneeling in front of me.

"Can't breathe," I gasp, clutching my chest.

"You're having a panic attack, do you want me to give you something?" He rubs the centre of my chest and I draw in a deep breath.

"No I think I'm okay," I sigh, closing my eyes. "I didn't hear you come in."

"We could hear you freaking out so I decided to check on you," he tells me quietly, continuing to put pressure on my chest, "I knocked but you never answered. Was it because of what happened at Clint's?"

I nod, running a hand over my face. "Yeah, I, fuck, Bruce, I sucked." I drop my head, "like, the kid was acting out, running around and swearing, she threw this lego plane at Steve's head. Anyway, I just lost my shit, like, I turned into my fucking Dad."

I squeeze my eyes shut and Bruce rubs the back of my head. "Yeah Thor kind of told us. You've got a good shiner," he says gingerly patting my cheek bone.

"Yeah, Steve punched me in the face after I spanked Callie," I wince, "and then I made him cry too, I said some really awful shit. Like... seriously, I probably just passed on my own ptsd."

"And I'm sure he held back or else he would've broken your face," Bruce laughs.

"I know," I groan, "and then I told him he was a stupid, useless, little boy. I told him not to call me dad... it was awful Bruce, I feel horrible."

"Yep, that's bad," he says, sitting on the couch beside me.

Suddenly the door opens and I say, "speak of the devil," as Cap walks into the room.

"Oh, Bruce!" He comes and sits on the armrest beside me, handing me my phone. "Can you explain about, you know, practicing now?"

"Practicing?" I look at him, reaching a hand up to rub his back.

He blushes and Bruce laughs, "I mentioned that you can practice holding off cumming."

"Oh, it's called edging!" I say, grinning up at Steve.

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