Here's chapter 3, folks! Thank you so much for taking the time to read my story. I love hearing what you think of the storyline and characters! Happy Reading!

Tony squeezed his eyes shut and then opened them wide, working his mouth to keep the trickle of sweat from trickling its dumb-ass salty self into his eye.

Sticky blood had begun to trail from the wound to Tony's other shoulder. It itched and tickled at the same time, creating an irritant to add to the throbbing pain from the glass.

"J.A.R.V.I.S.," Tony growled, "What's taking Banner so long?"

"He should be here any minute, sir," J.A.R.V.I.S. answered smoothly. "I alerted him to the nature of your injury, and he is collecting the necessary medical supplies. I believe Captain Rogers is with him."

Tony groaned, more out of irritation than pain. He muttered to himself about over-attentive super soldiers and slow-poke doctors. He knew the wound wasn't that bad, he just couldn't reach it himself. Despite that knowledge, he was started to get a little nauseated. He could feel the glass moving with each breath, tearing skin and muscle. Tony was no stranger to pain, but he never seemed to get used to it.

"Tony! God, what happened?" Banner burst into the lab, arms full of medical supplies.

Tony gave a half-hearted laugh, hoping to make light of the whole situation. "We had a little misfire—totally not my fault—and it destroyed your beakers."

Bruce looked around at the upturned table, scorching on the walls, and the general mayhem in the lab. "Little misfire, my ass," he huffed.

Just moments behind Bruce, Steve strode into the lab. He simply raised an eyebrow at the destruction, and picked his way through the broken glass to Tony.

Tony felt Steve's hand gently touch his shoulder, "are you okay?" Tony winced in spite of himself, trying not to make a sound.

Bruce made his way around the mess to Tony's face, crouching down to get on his eye level.

"Tony, did you hit your head?" Bruce asked, examining Tony's pupil reaction with a small light in his hand.

"Maybe just a little bit when I dove for cover—hey stop that—" He squinted at the light in his eyes, "but nothing too bad. I've been concussed before, I think I know the feeling."

Bruce sighed, and Tony could tell he was fighting an eye roll.

You've been practicing your bedside manner, Doc, he thought with amusement.

Tony felt his muscles clench involuntarily as Bruce examined the glass shard in his shoulder. His hands were gentle, but the slightest movement seemed to turn up the volume for the already unpleasant throbbing.

Bruce's face popped back into Tony's somewhat obstructed view. "We're going to move you to one of your work stools," he said. "Do you feel like you can sit up while I stitch you up?"

Tony snorted. "I had surgery performed on me in a cave, I think I can get some stitches while sitting up."

Bruce's eyes narrowed, as if he was analyzing the statement for bravado. He seemed to come to the conclusion that this would have to suffice, and motioned to Steve. "Cap, if you can get him to the stool and make sure he's steady, that would be a great help."

Steve nodded tightly, ever the soldier. He scooped Tony up as though he was a child, trying to be gentle of the injury. Tony screwed his eyes shut, holding his breath as the pain shot through him.

After some extremely uncomfortable bumping and arranging, Tony was settled on a stool. The steel table top in front of him provided a nice place to lean his elbows. Tony sat as still as possible, listening to the pounding of his heart in his own ears. Tremors shot through his back muscles, causing him to pant with pain and discomfort.

Tony felt a prick near the site of the injury, and made a quiet sound of protest, swaying where he sat. He felt Steve's warm presence to his left, and leaned against the super soldier.

"Tony," Bruce said patiently, "that was just a local. I'm going to remove the glass in just a minute and start on stitches."

Tony stared dully at his friend, feeling the throbbing pain begin to slowly decrease.

"You got lucky," Bruce continued, "the subdermal damage isn't too bad and you should have a really cool scar."

Tony gestured at the arc reactor in his chest, "I've already got a pretty cool scar."

He felt Steve huff out a little air, and turned squint up at Cap. "Bruce, come quick, I got it to laugh."

Steve covered a smile and turned their attention back to the matter at hand.

"Do you need me to do anything while you remove the glass?" Steve asked.

Bruce shot a quick glance at the super soldier and went back to prepping his tools. "I would grab that trash can in the corner and bring it over."

Steve followed orders and quickly returned with the trash can. He set it over by the doctor, and went back to Tony's left side to provide support.

"Okay buddy," Bruce said to Tony. "Let's get you all fixed up."