Pandemic, or Careful With What You Wish For
(For the whole fic:)
Author: Captain Narcolepsy
Disclaimer: And again, if I owned The Avengers, you would've noticed, I swear.
Warnings: language, sufferings, you know, the usual stuff. Plus I am afraid there will be OOC-ness, though I will do my best to make the guys stay in-character.
AN: Sooo, being the med student I am, I decided to make the guys face not some outer, but inner danger, and watch how they will cope with it. I think it's going to be curious. Also, I've decided to concentrate all the clever stuff around Bruce, because, duh, he is the doctor there, so the others won't bug you with random medical terms that make close to none sense. 8)
Summary: Four of the Avengers trapped in the Tower on hot summer day with unknown diseases invading the place, what can possibly go wrong?
Tell me exactly, what am I supposed to do?
Now that I have allowed you to beat me.
Do you think that we could play another game?
Maybe I could win this time?
-o- -o- -o-
"A peaceful sunny summer day. Just perfect for a disaster to strike. Come on, something is bound to happen, or I'm going to die of boredom right here and now," Tony lazily draws, rising up from the sofa he was occupying and stretching his arms and spine. A short satisfied huff leaves his lips as his joints crackle slightly. Muuuch better.
Okay, he mentally shakes a fist at the Universe. If nothing is going to happen today to amuse Tony Stark, he will do it himself, be sure. But first, he needs (not exactly needs; but living in the 'Stark Tower Dorm' teaches that most fun comes from company) someone to join his ambitious plans and devise some monstrous prank together. That is going to be awesome.
But first, coffee. This summer heat makes him all groggy.
As the genius fights with the almost-broken-yet-again coffee-machine absent-mindedly (he is so going to tell Thor coffee-machine is not designed to make pancakes. or cookies. or roasted bacon), Tony thinks about his accomplices-to-be. In fact, it feels almost wrong to team up with someone and plan ridiculousness when there are only four of them in the Tower (with Thor having gone to Asgard to sort out some another game of thrones (that's what he told the rest of the team, but of course everybody knows he simply escaped Tony's righteous anger about the coffee-machine), and Natasha ('so not surprised. Totally not surprised') having miraculously disappeared to a personal mission), but he is just so damn bored he is going to explode, implode and turn into a Tony-Stark-mini-Black-Hole, all rights reserved, if he doesn't team up with someone.
Tony finally gets the machine working and goes through his mental list of Earth's mightiest heroes currently inhabiting his territory. He strikes out Capt's name immediately: the old-fashioned man is no fun when it comes to jokes.
'Maybe Hawkeye then?' Stark lazily thinks, pulling his mug from the machine and stepping to one of the windows to gaze out at the noon city. Oh wait, no, no Hawkeye. Tony is still somewhat pissed at the guy for that accident three days ago, when the damn archer came running into one of Stark's labs, flailing his arms and laughing his ass off about some stupid thing Tony can't even remember now. Not that he cares about that thing, for Clint's childish behavior allowed Barton to forget all precautions and flip over one of Tony's most precious tripods (okay, the tripod itself wasn't really that precious, but the contents of tubes which it held actually were), hopelessly spilling the chemicals on the floor. And Stark has been working on those for past week. So yeah, he is still pissed enough not to involve Barton in his amazing plans on brightening the mood in here. And it's no one's but Barton's fault, uh-huh.
Which leaves Bruce. And that is kind of cool, because a) this puts the Hulk on Tony's side (a valuable point, one must say; not having an angry Hulk chase you after your successful prank? Priceless) and b) being the science bros, they will be able to devise a plan of pure awesomeness. Tony almost jumps in joy, as caffeine starts streaming through his veins, throws the now empty mug in the dishwasher and strides out of the room, being sure that he will find Bruce somewhere in his labs, on Banner's floor.
-o- -o- -o-
'Aaaaaiim. Release… Perfect,' a smug grin appears on Clint's face as he opens his eyes and stares at the shooting mark right at the opposite wall from where the archer is standing. Bull's eye, of course. Not that he would ever think he would miss such an easy target, but shooting with your eyes closed… A tiniest bit of a challenge here. Again, not that he would miss, anyway.
Clint is bored. He was even more bored an hour ago, but then he decided to try out all this 'blind method' stuff, so now he's a bit less bored, but still. 'Wish something would happen,' he thinks, pulling another arrow from his quiver and looking down at it. A small mark or 'Stark Industries' catches his eye, and the man's thought drifts to Tony.
'Stark is clearly overreacting,' he allows his calmness to slip for a moment, and the arrow embeds itself two inches below the first one. The archer winces as if from physical pain and reaches back for the next arrow. 'He really is. I mean, okay, I knocked that damn thing over. Was that really such a big deal? Chasing me out of the lab was completely uncalled for. Heck, I even apologized! I guess. Or did I?' Clint lets another arrow fly and doesn't even look at it when he opens his eyes, turning away from the shooting mark and starting to polish the bow out of a habit. When he is finished, Clint slings the bow over his shoulder and decides to go get a glass of ice tea in one of the rooms next to the range.
-o- -o- -o-
Bruce slowly raises his head from where it was resting on his crossed arms. The scientist hasn't even realized he had fallen asleep until now. The heat is really heavy. Pressing down at his brain, making him sleepy. Totally not good. 'See, even thoughts longer than ten words elude me,' Banner discontentedly thinks before getting up and striding out of his lab. "I need something to drink," he says aloud, his steps echoing down the empty corridor.
-o- -o- -o-
"JARVIS, turn it off, please," Steve asks as he sits up on his bed, flipping through pages of the book he is currently reading.
"Of course, sir," the voice promptly answers, tuning out Beatles' 'Yesterday' at once.
"Thank you," the man doesn't forget to express his gratitude, though his brow is furrowed as he searches through the pages of Vonnegut's 'Cat's Cradle'. He's been catching up with history since they settled down at Stark's (at sixties now), and that also involves music and literature.
"May I help you, sir?" JARVIS politely questions.
"Um, er, don't mind me, JARVIS, I simply lost the page where Papa appears, kind of missed that point, errm," Steve looks down another page before flipping it over.
"Where John and the others arrive on the island?" the voice inquires.
"Exactly. Yes. Almost found it, just a moment more," the soldier murmurs before JARVIS points out the exact page.
"Oh," Steve can do nothing but blink. "…Right. Thank you, JARVIS."
"You are most welcome, sir. Turn on the music again?"
"Yes, please."
-o- -o- -o-
Tony enters Bruce's lab with a mischievous grin on his face but stops dead in his tracks, realizing the other one is not there. "Banner, you are no fun at all, disappearing from places I expect to find you at," the genius murmurs unappreciatively before sitting down on one of the scientist's chairs. "Now where can you be…" he continues murmuring before a thought pops up in his mind.
"JARVIS! Locate Banner," he commands with a wave of his hand.
"Just a moment, siiioo-" the butler's voice distorts, transforming beyond recognition, and then goes completely silent.
"Err… JARVIS? If that's a way of telling me Bruce is at restroom or whatever, you could use more common terms, you know."
The only response is a weird cracking sound, and then it goes silent again.
Stark raises an eyebrow.
"Hellooo, Avengers!" a new voice sounds in the Tower's dynamics, and Tony stops spinning in the chair, highly disturbed.
-o- -o- -o-
"What a lovely boring day today, isn't it?" Steve does not drop his book, wondering where the 'Yellow Submarine' went. The male voice is unfamiliar, and it sounds as if it is there instead of JARVIS'. Maybe the others hear it, too? Steve props himself up on his elbow, listening intently.
"That's it, a disgustingly boring day! This is why I decided to liven it up a bit. Or right the opposite? Word pun intended. You might be confused right now, dear friends, but it is okay, you will get the drill soon, I promise."
-o- -o- -o-
The voice drives Clint mad. What the hell is he talking about? Who is that? And what does he want? The archer grips his glass of tea so tightly his fingers go numb. This is wrong on so many levels.
"Okay, now to the business stuff. You know, I am quite bored myself, too. This is why I want to play a game. Wait, gimme a second, this is someone's line already, isn't it? Ah, like I care. Anyway.
"Before you do or say anything, I want to warn you that I have overwritten JARVIS' program, so now you can't use phones, automatic window openers, fancy costumes or whatever else: everything like that is under my control. And it is no fun when you just go outside and end the game. Or call for help. Wait, heroes don't call for help… Again, whatever."
-o- -o- -o-
Bruce leans back against a wall. He didn't like the idea at its very beginning, and he doubts he still has a chance to like it.
"Ah, I got sidetracked again. But! We got to the interesting stuff. Soon all four of you will experience… Some unpleasant feeling. I'm not going to tell you what it will be like, but here is a hint: it might or might not be contagious."
Banner feels cold sweat starting to run down his back. He is so not liking it.
-o- -o- -o-
Tony makes an effort to close his mouth. This is not happening. Are you kidding me?
"Of course, each of you will get his own type of disease. Ow! I didn't mean it to slip so soon, how sad," the voice chirps on.
-o- -o- -o-
"But oh well, since you all know already that you will be infected, here's another thing: it might or might not be deadly.
"Aaand one more thing is that I will use a bit modified strains of causative agents. Kind of more thrilling when the disease progresses faster than a normal form should, huh? Or has some extra symptoms. Also, will make it more difficult for you to define the illness."
The archer growls quietly. What a stupid game.
-o- -o- -o-
Steve stands near the large window, staring at the city with unseeing eyes. The voice echoes in his head.
"But, you know what, I like playing fair. So there's a fair chance to all of you to finish the game alive. If the infection is not deadly, that is," the man laughs.
"By 'playing fair' I mean, you can still use whatever you can find on these floors. See how generous I am! If you heal, you win. If you die… well, I win, obviously."
-o- -o- -o-
Bruce slides down the wall slowly, taking off his glasses and pinching his nosebridge. He still can't believe this is happening.
"All rules clear? Perfect! And the game starts… Now!"
…And that was the beginning! Thrilled? I bet not. 8D Any guesses on the illnesses?
The next chapter is half-written already, and I suppose I'll post it in a few days. If you are interested, that is (I'm not whoring for reviews, I just can't see the reason to post a multi-chapter if no one cares. This is the only reason for me to talk about reviews, honestly).
Cheers, everyone!
- Cpt.
