Air I Breathe

Chapter 12

When the ball drops and everyone is clinking together champagne glasses, Pepper leans over and gives him a long, powerful kiss, reminds him that the new year is about more than just the new. Tony's never been good at new years, was usually blackout drunk by this time of the evening in his younger years, but being at home with people he considers family is more than enough to keep him steady right now, keep him feeling like he deserves these people in his life, and he's thankful.

For the first time in years, Tony is thankful for a new year, for family, for hope.

Thurs, January 2

Peter stands in the doorway of Tony's lab in pajamas at a little past one in the morning, his hair messy from sleep.

Or rather, the tossing and turning associated with not sleeping. He has a burst of energy, and even though it's nearly two in the morning, he can't get his brain to slow down. He's tried his usual strategies: soft music, his Calm app, making his brain go blank, but his anxiety is compounding because he took his steroids later than usual, all at once rather than in short spurts throughout the day. Combined with the medication from his inhalers and breathing treatments, it's created the perfect storm of anxiety and hyperactivity.

"You should be sleeping, Peter," Tony advises without looking up from his worktable, and Peter's sure he hasn't made any noise coming downstairs. In the quiet, though, he realizes he's wheezing slightly.

Stupid lungs.

"Can't. Steroids have me wired," he replies, taking Tony's acknowledgement as an invitation to enter. He shoves his hands into the pockets of his pajama pants and nears the worktable. "Whatcha working on?"

"None of your business. Where's your oxygen?" He doesn't look up again, just continues working.

"You really think I'm gonna drag that all the way down here? Plus,I'm not sleeping." He lifts his arms up, mimicking Tony's penchant for talking with animation.

"His oxygen level is 95 and steady, boss," FRIDAY chimes.

"Is it a new suit?" Peter asks, ignoring FRIDAY.

"Nope." Tony uses a stationary magnifying device to get a closer look at the intricate metal in the new nano arc he's holding. His hand wobbles and he stretches it to get it to stop, but the moment he goes back to tighten his grip on the arc, it goes back into the tremor.

"A new algorithm for FRIDAY?"

Tony sighs and turns toward Peter, pausing his work. He holds the solder gun in his hand up. "Does this look like coding to you?" He knows there's an edge to his voice, that his fatigue is wearing him thin and making him snappy, but if Peter's aware, he doesn't make it obvious.

"No," he shrugs, putting his hands in the pockets of his pajamas. "But I figured I'd ask because you've been spending so much time on the Boomerang Protocol and it sounded interesting."

Tony's eyebrows knit beneath his safety glasses. "How do you know about the Boomerang Protocol?"

"FRIDAY told me about it," he explains nonchalantly as he takes the stool beside Tony. "Why's it called Boomerang, anyway?"

"FRIDAY, why does Peter know about Boomerang?"

"You didn't fully classify it, sir. Would you like me to classify all files associated with Boomerang according to your security standards? Shall I place it on your private server?"

"No," he says, sighing. "Would you prefer I call it the Leash Kid Protocol?" he asks Peter.

"Wait...the protocol involves me? Please tell me that this isn't another Baby Monitor thing." He groans in annoyance.