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Is Something Burning?

Penny tried to focus on putting one foot in front of the other as sweat ran down her back and the sun beat down on her head. It was hot. Blindingly hot. Painfully hot. Nothing but sand as far as the eye could see except for the wreckage of their plane. If she turned around, she could see it. Could see the twisted metal and the fire that seemed to somehow make it even hotter, which felt impossible. How could it get even hotter? Her suit had been lost in the wreckage, along with her laptop and phone, but she found herself strangely unmoved by that thought.

Maybe she was in shock. Yeah, she though in her daze as she stared at her feet, following in the quickly fading footprints of Steve Rogers, she was probably in shock. Steve had pulled her out of the rubbled, grabbing her arm and practically dragging her away from the plane. And then he'd gone back into the wreckage, grabbing Natasha and carrying her out of the wreckage. Penny had tried to remember who else had been in the plane. Had it just been them? What about the pilot?

They were supposed to meet Mr. Stark and Colonel Rhodes at the site and...and something about Hydra. The pilot had made small talk with her when she'd climbed onto the plane, leaving Natasha and Steve to argue with Mr. Stark in hushed voices. They hadn't wanted her coming on this mission. Mr. Stark had insisted that she could do it. That she was ready.

The pilot had asked about school and had chatted about her wife and little boy at home. And Penny had asked to see pictures so the woman had obligingly pulled her phone out and...and now that little boy didn't have his mother and a woman had lost her wife. Had lost her partner. Just like May.

"Jack," Penny murmured, blinking at the sand. Steve turned back to her, Natasha limp on his shoulder, lips pursed.

"What?" he asked, not unkind, but tense.

"The pilot...her son. His name is Jack. And...and Abby. Her wife...her wife's name is Abby. They just got a cat. They adopted him from a shelter. They picked a black cat because they don't get adopted as often and...and they named him Salem even though it's cliche. Because they thought it was a nice name."

Something flickered over Steve's face and he glanced back at the wreckage. "We'll tell her wife. We'll make sure they're all taken care of."

Penny nodded, licking her dry lips and feeling something drip down the back of her neck. Sweat. Probably. She hadn't thought to investigate. Nor did she know where they were going. All she knew was that Steve was leading and she was to follow.

He hadn't wanted her on this mission anyway. He'd said she was too young. Too inexperienced. Mr. Stark has stuck up for her.

Natasha groaned and Steve hesitated before carrying on. They needed shelter but Penny didn't know where they could find it in the middle of what seemed to be an endless desert. Is this how Mr. Stark had felt in Afghanistan? Hot and miserable and vaguely sick, with sand in his shoes and a killer headache? Where was Mr. Stark? Did he know that their plane had gone down? Was he worried about her? Surely he'd come and find her, right? He'd help Natasha and give Penny a glass of water and a cool washcloth and let her lay down.

All she wanted was to lay down. The world spun around her and the sweat poured down her face and she was so, so hot. Vaguely, she wondered if spiders died in the heat too...if the intense heat would kill them just as quickly as intense cold. She almost missed a step and stumbled for a moment before blinking away the spots in her vision, taking deep breaths of dry, sandy air. She had to stop. She had to. Just for a second, she paused, watching as Steve moved further and further away.

Maybe, she thought, he wouldn't look back. That was okay, she decided as her knees buckled. She couldn't walk anymore. It had been hours. When they'd started, the sun was high in the sky. Now it was almost to the horizon, shadows long and useless. Steve could keep going. She's just wait...wait for Mr. Stark. Surely he'd come soon.

Penny's cheek pressed into the cold sand and she let her hair hide her face from the sun. It did nothing to cool her off but at least she wasn't sweating so much anymore. Her stomach was still sick, but she'd thrown up while Steve had been getting Natasha off the plane so there was nothing in her stomach, her mouth so dry that her tongue felt strange and swollen, and she couldn't even muster the saliva to wet it.

She closed her eyes against the hot sun and flinched when a hand grabbed her shoulder, shaking her hard. She thought she heard Natasha speaking, saying words she couldn't understand, but she tried to tune in.

"Come on, sweetheart," the woman murmured, shaking her again, but Penny couldn't muster the strength to open her eyes. "Penny? Penny!"

"I thought she was behind me!"

Why was Steve yelling? Penny scrunched her eyes and tried to open them. She managed it, just enough to realize that it was almost dark out. How long had she been laying there?

"She's too hot," the woman murmured, brushing her off, and Penny realized that she'd been partially covered in sand. A cool hand pressed to her forehead and she wondered how anything could be cool when she felt like she was boiling alive, her pulse pounding in her ears. Something covered her head, and a hand rested on her side. "Her head's still bleeding."

"I was trying to get to shelter. I didn't have anything to stop the bleeding...she didn't say anything." Steve spoke softly, his voice tense and afraid. "Can you walk?"

"I'll manage. Carry her. Keep that over her head."

Penny groaned when the man eased her into his arms, her head throbbing unbearably until she was gagging. Steve jumped in surprise then turned her, nearly dropping her to the ground as she threw up bile, heaving painfully until her stomach hurt as badly as her head and she dropped as if boneless, Steve catching her at the last second and holding her against him.

"Penny? Hey, wake up! Come on, kid!" He cradled the back of her head in his hand and held her close, voice shaking as he pleaded with her. "You've gotta stay with me, okay? We're going to get you home!"

Natasha put whatever had been on her head back, shading her from the remnants of the sun but she was still so hot! Too hot. Breathing was harder than it had been and she knew that if she just closed her eyes, it wouldn't hurt anymore.

So she decided to go with that. "Sorry...sorry Steve," she rasped, and she was sorry. Sorry that she'd held them back and sorry that they had to deal with her. She would just sleep, she thought, head dropping onto his shoulder, the pounding in her ears too loud. She would sleep and it would be okay.

And as far as she knew, it was. Because when she opened her eyes again, she wasn't hot anymore. Instead, she was shaking, lips trembling from the cold, something on her face blowing cool air that she inhaled greedily.

"Pen?" Penny turned her head and locked eyes with Mr. Stark who was sitting beside the tub of water where she lay and he gave her a weak smile. "Hey, kiddo."

"Mr. Stark?" she asked, voice weak under the mask.

"Right here," he murmured, reaching over and gripping her hand. "How are you feeling?"

She thought for a moment. "Cold."

He smiled, giving a mirthless laugh. "Right. Well, that's definitely an improvement."

Right. She'd been hot. So hot. And now she was shivering a little.

"It's room temperature water, so your temperature is still coming down." He moved his hand to her forehead, wincing a little. "You're still pretty hot."

"Oh," she muttered, nodding. "Okay." For a moment, she tried to remember the details. She remembered being hot and the pain and a plane crash. And then she remembered the important part. "Natasha? Is she okay?"

"She's fine. We've got her on oxygen too. Apparently when Helen said that you couldn't thermoregulate, that meant hot and cold. Go figure."

"What about Steve?"

"Steve is fine." Mr. Stark's voice tightened a little and he brushed some hair out of her face. She was still in her clothes, and she was grateful for the oxygen mask. Grateful that she was laying down. She was still so tired...and vaguely sick. "We've got you on fluids, but do you want some water?"

Penny nodded, smiling a little as he gently pulled the mask aside and held the glass to her lips so that she could drink. She wanted to guzzle it, but even that felt like too much effort, and soon the oxygen mask was replaced over her mouth and nose.

"Steve...he told me you collapsed. While you were trying to find shelter."

She vaguely remembered that.

"He also said that he didn't notice."

So that's why he sounded angry. "He was worried about Nat," she murmured around the mask, not wanting him to be angry. Not wanting any more fights.

"They almost lost you."

"Please don't be mad," she slurred a little, eyes starting to close, and he went quiet beside her. Still. So she went on, trying to find the words that might help. "He didn't mean to. He was scared. Don't be mad because of me."

The man sighed, leaning forward and pressing his lips to her temple. He sighed softly, then squeezed her shoulder. "Okay, honey. I won't be mad."

She didn't know if he was telling the truth, but she went back to sleep anyway. And then, as if only seconds had passed, Penny was in bed, dressed in soft pajamas and covered in a thick, comfortable blanket. She shifted and smiled as she opened her eyes, only to stiffen in surprise when she realized she wasn't alone. Steve Rogers was sitting in a chair beside her, his pencil moving over a piece of sketch paper.

Steve hadn't wanted her to go to the mission.

But then he'd held her. He'd tried to keep her awake...had begged her to stay awake.

"Hi," she murmured, and he jumped, nearly dropping the paper and staring at her with wide eyes before his shoulders relaxed.

"Penny. How are you feeling?"

"Better," she assured him.

"Good...good." Steve nodded and gave a half smile. "I'm glad to hear it."

"Is Mr. Stark here?"

"Yeah, he's getting some sleep. He's been sitting with you for the last few hours. I told him to get some rest."

"What about the mission?"

"Don't worry about it. We had someone else take care of it."

Penny dropped her eyes, swallowing hard. "'M sorry."

The man frowned and leaned forward. "Sorry? What are you sorry for?"

"I...I got hurt and I held you back and…"

The man held up a hand, shaking his hand. "Penny, you don't have anything to be sorry about. I'm the one that didn't…" He ran a hand through his hair, shaking his head and sighing. "You collapsed. You had heatstroke. You had a seizure before Tony found us. You were laying in the sand and...and Natahsa woke up and I realized you weren't with us and we...we were searching for you for so long. You were buried in the sand." He swallowed hard. "I thought we were going to lose you," he murmured, eyes dropping to the floor. "I'm sorry, Penny. I...I was supposed to be watching out for you and…"

"You don't have to apologize. You were worried about Natasha."

"I should have been more worried about you too."

Penny shrugged. "It's okay."

"I know you think that," Steve told her ruefully, giving her a wry smile. "And I know that you told Tony not to be mad at me."

"He shouldn't be. You didn't crash the plane."

Steve sighed, then reached out and rested a hand on her shoulder. "How are you feeling?"

"I'm fine."

"It wasn't….I didn't want to keep you from going on the mission because I don't like you. It's not because I think you're not smart or...or a real superhero. It's because you're fifteen, and I was scared that you would get hurt." He drummed his fingers on his leg, tapping the eraser of his pencil on his notepad. "I was afraid to have a child in the field. And I know that you're not like other kids. I know that you're enhanced...hell, you're probably stronger than me. But still...I didn't want you to get hurt."

Penny nodded. It made sense, she supposed. And she was glad to know that it wasn't because he didn't like her. She hadn't really been sure. "I like you too," she offered, and the man snorted, reaching out and ruffling her hair.

"Tony told me to wake him when you woke up, but what do you say I find you something to eat first and we let him sleep for a little while longer?"

"Do we have access to Mr. Stark's credit cards?"

He grinned. "We do."

"How do you feel about steaks?"

The man chuckled. "How about something a little lighter? Soup? A sandwich?"

"Can I get a sandwich from Delmars?"

He lifted an eyebrow. "In Queens?"

"Yeah."

Sighing, he pulled himself to his feet. "You got it, kiddo."