[ that other time doesn't count elicits a tiny, unexpected smile as tony scratches sumo's neck scruff obligingly. he never would have figured himself for a dog person (or a bear person??) but this place had brought it out in him, apparently. it's brought a lot of things out of him he hadn't been trying to advertize, like the fact that he's actually really good at managing anxiety. because - hello - he has to do it daily. and it's easier to see the signs in someone else than it ever would be to react to his own panic. ]

I get panic attacks. [ he says suddenly, eyes lifting to catch hank's. it had been hard for him to admit for a long time, but that's who he is. just a guy in a soup can with ptsd from everything he's been through. one of the primary sources? BEING KIDNAPPED. so thank you so much, astoria, for making him relive this every day. ] That's how I knew what to do.

[ it's a 'you're welcome' in its way, but he nods to steve's bed if hank wants to sit down. there are a few chairs but they're all piled up with debris and papers and god knows what else. tony's mostly been hoarding anything he could find until he figures out what's useful. ]

Sometimes, the things you do... the things you see - they stick with you. For a long time. It makes sense. [ that a cop would have the same issues he does, he means. ]