Prompt: 5 Times Tony Had An Asthma Attack During A Battle and 1 Time He Didn't.

Or a Tony Natasha brother-sister relationship fic about Tony having the stomach flu.

From Gleevengers98

I went for the second one as I wasn't exactly sure what an asthma attack felt or really looked like.
Sorry it's fairly short.

Training with Clint had gone much the same as always, his desire to beat her after her own victory on the helicarrier, had forced her to try new unexpected moves in an attempt to outwit him, which is difficult when fighting a man capable of hitting a moving target without looking.

Yet now Natasha was bored and on her own as, Clint had wandered off to who knows where with his children (or arrows as they're more commonly known), Pepper still wasn't on particularly good terms with her after the fiasco that was Tony's birthday party, not that it was her fault she had only made some suggestions. Thor was still on Asgard and Steve was busy contemplating the microwave, which is never something you want to get in the middle of unless you're prepared for the questions he might throw at you, and to be quite honest it was Tony's microwave so there was every possibility that yes it could be used to blow something up.

So all that was left were the science Bros or Tony and Bruce and while she still had a slight fear… or a healthy amount of respect for the hulk, and anyone would after seeing what he could do. She wasn't about to let that put her off visiting, and hopefully they might have some new tech for her to try, but that was completely beside the point.

As she approached the main lab there was a rather distinctive smell accompanying the sound of retching.
"Tony!"
The smell had reached a point where she was wondering if they would ever manage to air the lab out and in the corner bent over a bucket and white as a sheet was Tony. Who had looked up when she had exclaimed and was attempting to hide both the bucket and how ill he was by giving her a weak grin and moving to stand in front of the bucket.
"I'm fine Tasha."
His voice was muffled from where his head was laid on her shoulder after she had caught him as he fell.
"I can see that… and don't call me Tasha." But the reproach was only half-hearted as she heaved him into a standing position watched as he wobbled slightly before sitting on the stool.

"Where's Bruce?"
She had only just noticed that the other scientist was missing having been so focused on Tony.
"Out… Hulk" was all Tony managed before leaning over the bucket and retching again without producing anything as Natasha suspected he had already emptied the contents of his stomach into the bucket.

"Right then" she announced after he had finished. She found another bucket and went to haul him to his feet.
"Wait what?" His voice had gone slightly panicked as she moved and he had nearly fell of the stool from leaning backwards.
"Well you're not going to get any better sitting here pretending to do work."
"Not pretending… very important… needs done"

She rolled her eyes at his attempt to argue with her, shoved the bucket at him, telling him to hold it, hauled him to his feet and proceeded to drag him back to his room, while he whined the whole way.

After depositing him in his bed, placing the bucket by his side and removing his socks, shoes and jeans. She sat down on the side of the bed and proceeded to question him about his state of health all the while admonishing him for attempting to work when he clearly wasn't feeling well.
"Do you need anything? Can't believe you would even try to get out of bed. Are you warm enough? What were you thinking?" and so on, if there was one thing she could do it was tell someone off, all the while her comments were interspersed with Tony's attempts to either leave the bed or tell her he was fine. Until eventually he gave up, the fact that he was ill overriding his desire to not be ill, and started answering her questions, Yes he was warm enough, No he didn't want anything.

Satisfied that he had given up she told him to try to sleep and ignoring his statement that he didn't want anything she went to make him soup, people ate that when they were ill didn't they?

When she reached the kitchen Steve had moved from the microwave to the coffee machine, she thanked every deity out there that he didn't seem to have any questions about that as she searched the cupboards. Eventually finding a tin of chicken soup, they really shouldn't be so reliant on takeaways, and dumping it in a bowl before putting it in the microwave, having reached this point she decided to take some water with her as well.

She retrieved a spoon from the drawer and put both the spoon and water on a tray and waited for the microwave. Unfortunately she had forgotten that the microwave made a rather loud beeping noise when it was finished, which roused Steve from his coffee machine musings and before he could start with any questions she grabbed the soup out of the microwave and walking out of the room she threw
"Tony's ill" over her shoulder at his questioning look.

As she re-entered Tony's darkened room and allowed her eyes a moment to adjust she spotted him sprawled across the floor facing the bed.
"What are you doing!?" she put the tray on the table and rushed towards him.
"Toilet" was the muffled reply as he gestured in the direction of the door.
"Idiot" she muttered heaving him up and once more depositing him on the bed propping him against the headboard before fetching the abandoned tray and placing it none too gently on his lap.
"Not hungry" was the childlike response to this action.
"You are going to eat it all and be grateful about it" she gave him a glare to go with this statement which spurred him on to eat half of the bowl before looking sick and pushing it away, she took it off him and placed it back on the table and put the water by his bed within easy reach before dragging the covers up over him.
"Right get some sleep and if you need anything ask Jarvis to get me. I'll come in and check on you in a bit." She said in a stern voice before standing up and taking the tray out of the room and back to the kitchen.

Steve was exactly where she left him with a contemplative look on his face, she didn't look at him while she emptied the bowl and put it in the dishwasher before turning to face him.
"What?"
Steve opened his mouth, paused and then shut it. Before finding his voice.
"You really care about him don't you." It wasn't a question but a statement said in a soft voice. She paused unprepared for the seriousness in Steve's voice.
"He's not as bad as he seems…" She paused again before gathering herself.
"You tell anyone, I'll make your life a misery."

There was a short silence before.
"So what exactly is a mocha?"

Review please :)