Work Text:
Heat sink
It started out small, Tony missing a cue in a meeting, staring at a hologram stuttering in his hands a second too long, blinking slow, Peter had figured it was just stress.. That was until he saw the way that Tony keeps flexing his fingers, almost like he’s testing voltage
“F.R.I.D.A.Y’s lagging” Tony says
“...She’s not”
Tony ignores him, which is normal, it’s just.. He does it twice in the same sentence.
By the middle of that afternoon, he’s still in the lab, the sleeves of his shirt shoved up his arms, the reactor glow too bright against skin that’s not, his jaw is twitching every few minutes, like a heartbeat that's sitting in the wrong place.
“Have you eaten?” Peter asks
“Coffee counts if you believe hard enough”
“Mr. Stark-”
Tony sets the wrench he's holding down too carefully “Kid, I’m fine, don’t start”. Peter doesn’t, he just notices, notices the colour under Tony’s nails being wrong, a faint sheen of grey like graphite dust. He remembers Chemistry with Mr. Cobbwell, palladium, but he doesn’t mention it. When Tony stands the stool goes over, he steadies himself on the bench, his hand leaving sweat on the metal.
“Woah,” Peter says, stepping in before Tony can make it look intentional “Sit down”
“Kid. I said I’m fine.”
“Yeah, you uh..” Peter shifts his weight, pushing his hands into the pocket of his hoodie “You just don’t look super fine?”
Tony doesn’t look up at that, “appreciate the medical insight”
“Yeah I just uh.. You dropped that wrench and then like, forgot what gravity is, so”
He huffs at that, rubbing his eyes with the heel of his hand “guess gravity and I are renegotiating our contract, huh kid”
“Cool” Peter says “But maybe sign that later though?”
Peter bends over, grabbing the wrench before Tony can get to it, setting it back on the bench. Tony takes it but he doesn't do anything, the skin around his mouth looks off colour, way too washed out against the light from the arc reactor. “You should-” Peter stops, restarts “-maybe sit down for a second Mr. Stark?”
“I am sitting”
“Yeah, sure, okay but I mean like.. more sitting less… almost falling over”
Tony smiles at that, flickering and running out halfway through, he shifts on the stool, movement’s small but it drags a sound out of him that isn’t a word.
“Mr. Stark?”
“Hmm?”
“You, uh.. you’re kinda- I don’t know… you’re not um.. great”
“Define ‘great’”
“Not looking like you swallowed a flashlight, for one” Peter says, gesturing at the glow under Tony’s T-Shirt, it's too bright, the pulse is uneven, Tony looks down at it. He laughs, tiny and helpless, “Yeah thats.. new”
Peter waits for the next joke but it doesn’t come, the air between the two of them humming with the machinery, F.R.I.D.A.Y doesn’t say anything, which is almost worse than a warning. “You should call- I mean.. Not me but like, real medical people?” Peter says “Pepper maybe?? Or-”
“Peter.”
“....yeah?”
“It’s handled.”
“...but you just said it’s new”
Tony leans forward, his forearms resting on his knees and his fingers trembling. “New doesn’t mean disaster, sometimes it just means Tuesday.” Peter frowns at that, “that’s not-” Tony looks up at him, whatever argument Peter had going in his head turns into static, his eyes are too bright, rimmed with red, not drunk or tired just… wrong.
“Look” Tony sighs “if it gets worse, i’ll handle it, you don’t need to..” he waves his hand vaguely, “-hover”
“I’m not hovering!” Peter says, he’s definitely hovering
Tony exhales, it’s almost a laugh “Y’know you’re the only kid I know that can make worrying look like a full time job”
“I uh..” Peter rubs his hands against his jeans, “I don’t know, someone's gotta.”
Silence.
It stretches, the arc reactor flickers again and Tony’s head tips, just slightly, but it’s a motion that ends with his hand on the edge of a bench, his knuckles turning white. “Okay!! Okay- thats um, that’s enough tuesday” Peter crosses the gap before Tony manages to argue, panicked as he puts his shoulder under Tony’s arm, steadying him while the stool scrapes back. Tony doesn’t fight it, that’s how Peter knows it’s bad. “Easy” Peter mutters “Just um.. Sit back, breathe, whatever.” Tony does, his eyes are closed now and his jaw set like he’s trying to think his way out of his body.
Peter stays there, his hand half hovering because touching feels weird but not touching feels worse, the hum of the reactor drops and F.R.I.D.A.Y finally says, “Toxin levels elevated. Recommended rest and chelation protocol”
Peter exhales, “translation: not fine”
Tony doesn’t even open his eyes at that, “yeah” his voice is thin “working on it”
Tony doesn’t move for a while, the monitors breathing with a low electrical heartbeat. Peter stays standing because sitting feels wrong. “F.R.I.D.A.Y” Tony says after a bit, his voice sounding as thin as paper “run it again.. Lower output”
“Already running boss”
Peter looks at the screen, he can’t read half of it but he knows that the lines are dipping where they shouldn’t be. “Is that uh.. bad?” Tony squints at the screens “Depends who ya’ ask.”
“I’m asking you.”
Tony exhales through his nose “then it’s bad but not movie-end-of-the-week bad. Yet.”
“Cool. Okay. Love that.”
Tony smirks faintly, his hands still at his chest, thumb tracing the edge of the metal like it might jump out of him if he stops, the air smells like ozone and metal dust. Peter finds a rag on the counter, passes it to Tony “you’re sweating. Just um- here” Tony takes it without a word, wipes his face. “You should go home before you start writing a lab report about this”
“Right! I’ll just, uh, leave you here to… what? glow louder?”
“Kid-”
“Mr Stark” Peter says, cutting him off without meaning to, “you can’t fix it if you pass out halfway through fixing it”
Tony watches him, a slight flicker of surprise coming up then something that isn’t quite annoyance, he nods once “Fair enough.” He reaches for the console. His hand shakes too much to hit the key sequence; Peter slides it closer without a word. F.R.I.D.A.Y’s light finally moves to a lower pulse, cooling fans spin up and the hum drops down an octave, Tony leans back against the bench.
“You, uh, want me to- like.. stay? just until-” Peter starts, Tony cuts him off, gentle “Yeah. Just… keep an eye on the readings, okay? Top row, left side. If that number jumps again, hit the red toggle.”
Peter nods and moves closer to the screen, the number crawls by, slow and steady. Its probably fine.. probably.
Five minutes stretch into twenty. Tony’s breathing steadies, its still uneven but less sharp. Peter scrolls through diagnostics he doesn’t understand, pretending to.
“F.R.I.D.A.Y” Peter whispers …what happens if it jumps?”
“Internal filtration will initiate emergency purge” she says quietly, “It will not be pleasant.”
“Great, okay” he glances back to Tony, his eyes are closed now and his mouth is set. A smear of grey sits near the edge of the reactor that wasn’t there before. “Is it supposed to-” “Surface oxidation” FRIDAY says. “Minor.”
Peter doesn’t buy that but he keeps watch anyway, checks his phone twice, starts a text to May, deletes it, checks the number again. It blips once, holds. Tony stirs “...still alive?” “Uh yeah” Peter says “You mean me or you?”
“Good question” Tony pushes himself up on his elbows, grimaces at the effort. “What’s the damage kid?”
“Numbers steady”
“See? Perfect, told you, manageable”
Peter doesn't reply to that, just sets the rag back near the sink, turns the stool so Tony doesn’t have to.
“Gonna run a manual purge,” Tony says “you should-”
“No I’m okay here”
“Peter.”
“Seriously!! I’ll just um.. Stand over here, out of zap range”
Tony almost smiles at that. “Zap range? That a technical term now?”
“Yeah uh.. Adding it to the dictionary”
Peter moves over to the far side of the lab, watching Tony wire in the probe with movements that are slower than usual but he’s still precise. The machine answers with a low mechanical hiss. The light in the arc reactor fades from bright white to a calmer blue, and Peter exhales, realising he’s been holding his breath for most of a minute. Tony straightens himself up, wiping his palms on a towel “See? Still functional, little rust never killed nobody”
“I’m pretty sure that’s exactly what rust does”
“Pedantic.” Tony sinks back onto the stool, rubbing his eyes. “Okay. Calling it a night before you start quoting OSHA at me”
“You don’t follow OSHA.”
“Rebranding Underoos”
Peter half laughs at that, it feels like permission to breathe again. Tony waves a hand, “go home, kid. For real this time”
“I will,” Peter says, meaning ‘not yet’
He stays until Tony’s head tips forward, until FRIDAY dims the lab lights on her own. He keeps his eyes on the monitor, the steady number that’s finally stopped moving