The monster in the walls

Great idea, really bad news

In the penthouse, Tony paced back and forth, folding and unfolding his wings as he went. His husband sat quietly in the corner of their bedroom; lips pulled into a frown, eyebrows pinched together. The only thing going through their minds was their baby boy, Peter.

It'd been over a week since the last "zoning out episode" as Sam had so eloquently dubbed it. Peter's nightmares had been getting worse, so bad in fact, that the poor kid had only gotten three hours of sleep over the past four days. The only thing stopping Bruce from sedating him was that Peter's metabolism burned through drugs in a matter of minutes, leaving any sedative or medication useless. The poor kid was jumpier than he usually was, if that was even possible, and constantly on alert despite being too worn out to stay on his feet for more than twenty minutes. It was painful to witness and even more maddening that they had no leads to follow.

"What the Hell can we do?" Tony stopped abruptly and turned to the tall blond, frustration and worry seeping into his voice, which steadily grew louder with each word. "I thought the extra therapy sessions would help! The extra training made him more tired, but he still couldn't sleep. The relaxing yoga bullshit FRIDAY showed me did nothing! Not even the stupid nature walk you insisted on helped!" He tugged at his hair so hard it started to come out. The dark brown strands fell to the floor while he wrestled with the idea that an unknown force was hurting his kid.

"Hey, hey," Steve took his husband's hands in his own, quickly stopping the self-destructive behavior. "Please don't hurt yourself, honey." He pulled the smaller man against his chest and pressed a light kiss to his forehead. "We'll figure this out. I promise you."

"How? How are we going to fix this when we don't know what's wrong, to begin with?" Tony gripped his husband's shirt in his fists, clinging to the steady rock he'd always been able to rely on. "He's hurting. Our baby is suffering and there's nothing we can do!"

"I know, honey, I know." Steve tried to keep his composure, but his voice wavered, revealing how terrified he truly was. The situation looked grim, yet they couldn't give up hope. "But Peter is strong. So smart and brave." Softly, he said, "He gets that from you."

Tony chuckled humorlessly. "He's also got insomnia and a major hero complex. Neither one is ideal. Both of which he got from me."

"There's pros and cons to most everything."

"I suppose." Tony sighed. "But you know what..." he trailed off, a look of deep concentration on his face before his features positively lit up, "I've got insomnia!"

"I know, Tony, I sleep with you." Steve deadpanned.

"No. I know that. But you were just saying that there's good and bad to everything, right?"

"To most things." Steve nodded. "But I don't see how having insomnia is good."

"No, no, I'm not saying that. At least not completely," Tony led pulled his husband into the elevator as he rambled. "But, it may be helpful."

The elevator doors opened up onto another private floor, which encased the billionaire's private labs. Labs only Peter, Bruce, and himself were permitted to enter. Tony pulled Steve - or more accurately Steve let Tony lead him - inside and began rummaging through a supply closet. He haphazardly shoved several boxes aside and dug through a set of drawers he used to store extra tools. 

He began mumbling to himself while he tossed wires and tools aside. "I know it's in here. No, not those. Maybe I left it by the eco-generator or laser gun."

Steve just stood back, trusting his husband with whatever he was doing but also knowing better than to get in the way. Science and technology weren't his strong suit.