Bruce Banner had gone straight to sleep after the fight with the Chitauri and Shawarma with the rest of the Avengers. He'd been exhausted both physically and mentally, so he hadn't noticed the light pain in his left kneecap. He had slept like a rock and when he woke up and pulled back the covers he groaned in agitation and frustration. His left knee was horribly swollen and tinted red from the pooling of blood inside it.
Great, now he had a leg bleed. Shit.
For most other people that wouldn't be their reaction, instead they would be wondering if their leg was broken because of this level of bleeding around the area. But not Bruce, not since he was two years old and diagnosed with Hemophilia type A.
Bruce bent over, without jostling his leg and stuck his hands under his bed, searching for his box of needles. When he managed to grab it, he pulled it up and sat it on his night stand. Then he sent a longing look towards the bathroom where his factor VIII was in the medicine cabinet above the sink. Finally he sighed and grabbed his needles, tucking them neatly under one arm and hopping on one leg towards the bathroom.
He kept at least one hand on the wall or a desk table at any given time, trying to make sure he didn't fall over and wake any of the other Avengers who were probably sleeping anyway. When he finally managed to reach the bathroom, cursing the fact that he only took factor when he was having a bleed and not all the time, the whole way.
He collapsed on the toilet and was panting heavily as he rolled up the sleeve of his baggy, white, long sleeved sleep shirt. He ran one hand through his unruly, fluffy dark hair. As he ripped the orange cap of one needle off with his teeth and reached the other hand out to dig in his cabinet and grab the factor in the clear bottle next to the Tylenol.
He stuck the needle into the clear clotting factor carefully, making sure that no bubbles were trapped in the liquid. He remembered to tap it with the nail of one finger before stabbing it into the soft skin of the inside of his right elbow.
He slowly injected the factor into his arm, then slowly removed the needle, capped it and dropped it in the trashcan near the toilet.
Bruce leaned his head backwards and against the cold surface of the wall. A small part of his brain wondered if he would have to have the blood drained from his stupid knee, how many times had he hemorrhaged in this leg again? If its more than once he had to get it drained so it wouldn't damage the joint.
Then he thought of an even more pressing issue. How was he going to sneak this past the Avengers? I mean he just met them and he's the weakest link when he isn't The Other Guy. This would just make him look even weaker. I mean they were all living together now and he still had yet to discover any of their own weaknesses.
He heaved himself to his feet, swaying slightly before limping out of the bathroom and collapsing on his bed once again. Shit, this was getting harder. He then pulled himself upright again to limp over to his closet and grab the biggest pair of sweatpants he had and a purple t-shirt. Easily slipping on the shirt and then carefully and painfully shimmed into the pants.
When he'd finished, he pulled himself to his feet again and limped towards the door. He tried to put some weight on his bum leg and instantly all the color drained out of his face and he almost collapsed on his ass. Guess he was limping and hopping then.
He left his room quickly and limped down the hall as quickly as he could manage. Then he reached a flight of stairs and bit his lip hard in anticipation of the pain to come. Bruce slowly lowered himself onto the first step and then the second. Making sure to cling to the railing for dear life.
If only he could make it to the level where the kitchen and living room was, then he could ride the elevator the rest of the way down. By the fifth stair step he was flushed and tired but he kept going until about the ninth step when the foot of his good leg slipped off the step.
He remembered hovering for a moment before toppling forwards and rolling like a rag doll down at least two flights of stairs, he lost count. At least he remembered to cover his head as best as he could.
When he finally reached a stop he was upside down and looking up at the face of none other than Tony Stark. Tony actually looked quite concerned and he bent down to help Bruce up.
"Hey Brucie! You okay?"
Tony asked and Bruce gave a vague nod, hands flying to his face where he felt a warm liquid dripping. He pulled his hands away from cupping his nose and they were covered in blood. Really world?! Really?!
Bruce cupped his nose again and tilted his head backwards, he was a pro at this. But he knew that his stupid factor and needles were upstairs and he still needed to get his leg drained, he would have to go to the hospital.
"Woah Bruce! You're really bleeding!"
Tony exclaimed when he saw the large amount of blood staining Bruce's hands and the front of his shirt already. Bruce himself looked pale and shaky, Tony didn't like the look of him at all.
"Wait here for a minute, Specs!"
Tony whispered and jumped up to go get the rest of the Avengers, he needed back up. Bruce rolled his eyes and tried to heave himself to his feet, but failed miserably. He just decided to lean his head back against the side of a wall while holding onto his nose.
" !"
Bruce looked up when he heard Steve's voice and he smiled, shaking his head.
"How many times have I told you to call me Bruce, Cap?"
He slurred through his bloody nose. Steve raised an eyebrow when he saw the amount of blood around and covering Bruce. When Clint, Natasha and Thor arrived they all froze in their tracks when they saw him. He just gave them a smile as well.
"Well Bruce then, I'm not a doctor but I don't think you should be bleeding this much from a nosebleed."
Steve whispered as he held up a handful of tissues which Bruce gratefully took.
"Look, could one of you drive me to the hospital?"
Bruce asked with a long suffering look, and Tony raised an eyebrow at that statement.
"Why? It's just a nosebleed, it'll stop soon."
Tony shrugged and Bruce shook his head, gesturing vaguely to his left knee that was pretty much throbbing now.
"No, I have to go get my leg drained. I'm a Type A nosebleed can be fixed upstairs but frankly I really don't want to bother."
Bruce stated quietly but everyone heard it, Steve looked confused but Bruce saw awareness dawn in Tony's eyes. Tony nodded and offered an arm for Bruce to cling too. Bruce gratefully took it and Tony pulled him to his feet, Steve hurried over and supported Bruce's other side.
"What's a hemophiliac?"
Steve asked and Bruce opened his mouth to answer but Tony beat him to it.
"It's someone with a condition where your blood can't clot, right?"
Tony asked and Bruce shrugged the best he could with his arms around two other men.
"It's a factor VIII deficiency for Type A's."
He murmured, and chose to ignore the confused looks from Steve, Tony and the rest of the Avengers who were following them to make sure Bruce didn't fall. Yay.
-TimeSkip-
The next time Bruce blinked into consciousness he was in the car with Tony driving recklessly as usual. The weird thing was he didn't remember getting in there, and why was he leaning against Steve? Not that he was entirely complaining, the super soldier was quite comfortable.
"Where are we?"
Bruce slurred then spat the blood out of his mouth that had dripped from his nose. He didn't even want to look at the bloody shape his shirt was in now.
"Almost to the hospital, Bruce."
Clint answered from somewhere to his left and Bruce just nodded. He was trying to keep the feeling of needing to vomit quelled. Just then Tony pulled into the hospital, leaping out of the car to swing open the door on Bruce's side and help Steve get Bruce out of the car. The thin dark haired man was sickeningly pale and glassy eyed.
Clint, Thor and Natasha ran inside to grab a wheelchair or at least a nurse and Tony helped Steve support Bruce. Which seemed to be a good plan until Bruce bent over and vomited on the ground. Tony recoiled slightly but when he saw the hurt look in Bruce's eyes he just kept walking.
Finally Steve got fed up with their slow process and lifted Bruce into his arms. The dark haired man didn't even protest as Tony made sure he didn't fall and Steve carried him in. The moment they were actually in the hospital Tony yelled as loud as he possibly could've.
"Help! We need Help over here!"
He yelled and within moments a wheelchair was being wheeled over to them, pushed by a young woman with curly brown hair and wide hazel eyes. She took one look at Bruce and nodded for Steve to put him on the stretcher.
"Name, Age, medical conditions?"
She rattled off instantly and before either Steve or Tony could answer, Bruce spoke.
"Robert 'Bruce' Banner, I'm 29 and I've got Hemophilia A."
He whispered but she seemed to catch it all. She nodded then spoke again.
"Severity? How long? Why are you here, what happened?"
"Severe, Since I was two years old. I fell down a flight of stairs, and I need to have blood drained from my left leg where I had a joint bleed. I need Factor VIII and I'm blood type AB positive."
He murmured as she wheeled him away but Steve and Tony seemed to be glued to his sides, because they wouldn't leave. The nurse looked at them for a moment before continuing with what she was saying.
"We're going to have to give you a transfusion before we drain your knee. But before that we're going to pack and cauterize your nose."
Bruce nodded as they rolled him into a room and set him in a hospital bed, several other nurses came in and they hooked him up to dozens of machines. Tony and Steve were at a total loss as Bruce leaned back and dozens of ice packs were packed around his nose before they cauterized it. When they did, Tony and Steve had to look away.
Bruce just watched the nurses as they hooked him up to a heart monitor and an IV. Several bags were hanging from his IV, one that was full of rust colored liquid and Bruce assumed it to be the transfusion he needed.
They let him sit for a few minutes, the nurse told him that they would take him to radiology soon, to make sure he hadn't hurt himself any worse when he'd fallen down the stairs. But then he was alone with Steve and Tony.
"You're an idiot Bruce, did you know that? A full blown idiot!"
Tony snapped angrily and Bruce smiled sheepishly, the cowed under the intense glare coming from Steve. Great, now he had two new mother hens.