"Come on, Pete. We gotta go or you'll be late for school." Tony called to his six year old son as he waited by the door.
"I can't go yet, my room's dirty!" Peter called, fidgeting around his bedroom and moving things around slightly.
What the hell? His room was clean last night, it can't be dirty now. Tony thought as he walked towards his son's room. He tried to go in, but the door was locked. "Pete, open the door."
"No, I'm busy."
"Peter."
"I'm naked."
"Kid."
"I'm in an online chess tournament."
"Pete-"
"I have to catch up on Phineas and Ferb."
Tony didn't say anything.
"I have a cake in the oven, I can't leave until it's done.....I'm trying to learn the ukulele."
"Peter James Stark, open the door." Tony said calmly, knowing that using his son's full name would make him comply. And the door was unlocked a moment later, revealing a disheveled Peter.
"I'm not ready to go to school." He spoke softly, looking down at his dad's shoes.
"What's going on, kiddo? It's two months into the school year, this isn't something new. Why don't you want to go?" Tony asked, kneeling and meeting his son's gaze.
"I don't want to go." Peter repeated his feelings, tears pooling in his eyes.
"Okay, I hear you. I understand what you're telling me. I just want to know why. If you don't want to go, there's a reason and I need to know that reason." The father spoke, placing a supportive hand on his son's shoulder.
"I'm scared, Dad."
"Okay. Scared of what?"
"What if a bad guy gets in the school and kills me and my friends and my teacher? Or what if there's a fire but I'm in the bathroom and can't get out? Or there's a tornado or an earthquake and you aren't there to keep me safe? What about if I'm at recess and someone tries to snatch me? I'm afraid because so many things could happen and I feel unsafe!" Peter said, getting louder as he spoke and by the time he finished, he was shaking, struggling to breath correctly, and crying.
"Hey, you're okay. You're safe, just breathe for me, buddy. In and out, just like I'm doing." Tony said, picking up Peter's hand and putting it against his chest. Eventually, his breathing calmed down and Peter lunged into Tony's arms.
Tony picked him up and carried him to the living room, sitting on the couch with Pete in his lap. "All of the things that you just said are very unlikely to ever happen. But that doesn't mean that you're not allowed to worry about it. Do you worry about it a lot?"
Peter nodded and sniffled. "All the time. Sometimes I can't sleep because I can't make my brain stop making up scary situations."
"Have you been worrying since you started first grade?"
"No, since kindergarten. It just got worse in first grade."
Tony's heart dropped. His little boy had been feeling anxious for this long? "Buddy, why didn't you come to me? I could've helped you, that's my job."
"I was scared."
"Of me?"
"No, just of I don't know what. Like I was afraid of something I couldn't see. And I didn't want you to think I was faking because that doesn't sound real."
Tony kissed the top of Peter's head and hugged him tight. "Baby, there's nothing fake about that. That feeling is called anxiety. And it is very real."
"Oh."
"How about we try homeschooling until you feel safer and more in control? The second you want to go back to school, you can go back. If you don't want to, if this works out better for you, great. We can do it for good."
Peter nodded and smiled, liking the idea of being safe.
"Great. Let's go see Uncle Bruce and ask if he can help us out with this."
"Okay."
Sorry this kinda sucks!