Steve finds a new thing to be allergic to (don't worry; he'll be just fine!), and Tony's feeling the fatherly feelings again.
"So," Steve asked at breakfast one morning. "Where do you guys get your missions from? Do people write you letters or something and say they need help, or just…How do you know where to go?"
"Sometimes people ask us for help," Natasha said. "But we also keep an eye on the news and what's going on in the world, and then we go where people need help."
Steve considered this, taking a sip of his juice. "How, though? I mean, it kind of seems like a lot of work, but I don't see you all the time watching the news or something."
"Well, F.R.I.D.A.Y. keeps an eye on stuff like that," Tony said. "She can keep track of all of that while she's doing something else, and alert us if anything looks important."
"There's other people who keep an eye on things too," Clint said. "They monitor stuff more closely and send smaller teams out where they can, then tell us they need help if it gets bigger."
"Oh," Steve said. "Okay."
A sudden, slightly horrifying thought struck Tony. "Has anyone actually mentioned…um, our latest…development to old Eyepatch?" he asked, catching himself in time to not call Steve a 'problem'. It had been two weeks, and the former Director of S.H.I.E.L.D. was liable to blow a gasket when he heard that one of his top superheroes was stuck shopping in the children's department.
Natasha shot him a glare over her scrambled eggs—she wasn't a fan of Tony's nickname for Fury. "He knows," she said. "Why do you think he hasn't sent us anywhere in two weeks?"
"Oh." Tony hadn't thought of that, but now that she mentioned it, two weeks off between missions was a little unusual.
Sam asked who was covering their usual workload, but before Natasha could answer, Barnes asked, "Stevie, are you okay?" with a slight note of alarm in his voice.
All eyes snapped to Steve's side of the table, where he had put a hand to his throat and was swallowing repeatedly like he was having trouble getting something down. "My throat feels weird," he said.
"Weird like you've got something stuck in it?" Barnes asked. "Or…"
"Weird like that time I didn't realize Mrs. Davis's cookies had coconut in them, just a little slower," Steve said. He looked up at Barnes nervously. "I think maybe I'm allergic to something."
While Barnes tried not to look worried and felt Steve's throat and checked his breathing, Tony's eyes scanned the breakfast table, searching for anything that might have triggered a reaction. They had been so careful with keeping things he couldn't have well clear of the little guy, so there shouldn't be anything here he couldn't eat, unless… "Hey, what kind of juice is that?" Tony asked, pointing at the pitcher in the middle of the table.
"I think it's mango," Clint said.
"Steve, are you allergic to mangos?" Tony asked.
"Dunno," Steve replied, wiping at his nose and starting to sound a little raspy. "Never had one before." He turned to Barnes. "It's getting a little harder to breathe."
"Okay," Natasha said, standing up quickly. "Epipen," she said, turning to Tony. "You've got to have one somewhere in this tower."
"I think so," Tony said. "But it's gonna be somewhere in the medical wing, and I couldn't tell you where." They'd never needed one before, but Tony had some because it was just good sense, but now he was cursing himself for not spreading them out around the Tower.
"There's one in the first aid kit in the Quinjet," Sam said, jumping up from the table.
"You're not gonna get up there fast enough," Tony said. Steve was starting to wheeze. He tapped furiously at his watch, summoning one of his suits. "Screw the window, F.R.I.D.A.Y., get it in here as fast as you can."
"Yes, Boss," the A.I. said.
"What are you doing?" Barnes asked.
Before Tony could explain, one of the Iron Man suits crashed through the window and he stood up to step inside. "I can get him to the closest emergency room in less than two minutes. That's gonna be faster than finding a pen."
Barnes nodded. "Okay, Steve," he said, kneeling down in front of him and putting his hands on his shoulders. "You're gonna be fine, okay? Stark's gonna fly you to a hospital, and they'll get you all fixed up."
Steve nodded nervously.
Tony moved forward to pick him up. "Alright, hang on tight, kid," he said. "You just keep breathing. I gotcha. F.R.I.D.A.Y., nearest hospital, fast as we can go." He didn't actually know which hospital was closest from here, so he let the A.I. take over steering.
Steve gasped as they burst into the air and out the window, and Tony tucked him in closer against his chest. "F.R.I.D.A.Y., how's he doing?" he asked, making sure to keep the conversation inside the suit.
"His ability to breathe is decreasing rapidly, but our current speed will put us at Mercy General in forty-three seconds," she replied. "At the rate his airways are closing up, that should still be sufficient time to get him help."
"Good," Tony said. "But give me some juice and see if we can't trim that down to at least thirty."
The A.I. didn't reply, but the wind picked up as his repulsors picked up speed. "Hang in there, Steve," he said, opening the comm back up. "Almost there."
They touched down outside of the emergency room in twenty-eight seconds, and Tony didn't bother to step out of the suit, just running inside as fast as he could, his metallic boots loud on the tile floor.
"Look, buddy, you may be Iron Man, but you've got wait your turn," the nurse at the front desk said as Tony elbowed aside the man she was talking to.
Considering that Tony had just elbowed the man in what looked like a broken arm, he felt a little bad, but not bad enough. Steve was really starting to gasp for air now. "Kid's having an allergic reaction and he's having trouble breathing," he said.
The nurse's expression changed in an instant and she nodded at a swinging door to her left. "That way," she said, jamming her finger down on a button. "Greg!" she yelled.
A man that Tony assumed was Greg appeared just as he reached the door. If he was fazed at all by the presence of Iron Man in his E.R., he didn't let on. "Allergic reaction," the nurse yelled. "Oxygen and epi!"
Greg took one look at Steve, yanked open a nearby wall cabinet, and grabbed an Epipen, plunging it into Steve's leg as he barked at Tony, "Hold him still!"
Steve whimpered as the needle jabbed into his leg, but just curled closer against Tony's chest and tried not to move.
"In there," Greg said, nodding to the first exam room. "Put him on the table."
Tony stepped into the room and did so, then stepped back to get out of Greg's way. Greg was already pulling an oxygen mask from a bank of equipment and securing it over Steve's face. This clearly wasn't Steve's first allergy rodeo, but he still looked terrified, and Tony realized belatedly that he was still in the suit, and actually seeing a friendly face might help put the kid at ease. He stepped out of the suit and had it wait in the corner, instructing F.R.I.D.A.Y. to send regular updates back to the Tower.
"What's he reacting to?" Greg asked, clipping a pulse ox and a few other pieces of monitoring equipment to Steve.
"We think it's mango," Tony said.
"Other allergies?"
"F.R.I.D.A.Y.?" Tony asked, looking at his suit. There were a bunch, and he didn't know them all. The A.I. began reciting the list, and Tony slipped around to where he hoped he wouldn't be in the way and sat next to Steve. "You doing okay, Steve?" he asked.
Steve nodded, though his face didn't exactly agree with the gesture.
"Breathing any better?" he asked. He could still hear him wheezing through the mask, but his lips had lost that bluish tinge they'd started getting when they came in.
"A little," Steve whispered.
Tony reached down and patted his leg. "Just keep breathing, kiddo." He had no idea how long this sort of thing took to clear up.
They were quiet for a moment, watching Greg dig through a medicine cabinet, then Steve shifted uncomfortably. "Am I gonna die?" he asked, so softly it took Tony a second to decipher it.
"Are you gonna—no! No," he said. He moved a little closer and looped an arm over Steve's shoulders, his heart breaking at the frightened look in his shining blue eyes. He'd kind of been thinking Steve was used to this sort of thing, being as sickly as he was growing up, and maybe somewhere in the back of his head he was still hanging on to Big Steve and his frankly irritating stoicism when it came to personal medical problems. But Steve was just a kid, and he couldn't breathe and he was scared, and Tony smiled as warmly as he could muster and hugged him closer to his side. "You're not gonna die," he said calmly. "I know it's scary, not being able to breathe, but we're getting you medicine and we're getting you air, and you're gonna be just fine. Isn't he, Greg?" he asked, turning to the doctor.
"Oh, yeah," Greg said, turning back to face them with a vial and syringe, and Tony had to admit, the guy was pretty good at this. He was still moving with urgency, but anything in his voice that might have suggested this was an emergency and something to freak out about was replaced with a warm smile and completely calm confidence. "You are going to be just fine. What's happening is," he explained, filling the syringe from the vial. "Is that your body came across something it didn't like, and it started closing up your throat so no more of it could get in. Trouble is, it got a little too carried away, and closed it up so air can't get in either. But we gave you some medicine to help with that, and this mask is pushing the oxygen into your body until it's ready to start letting it in on its own again." He held up the syringe. "This is an antihistamine that's not going to mess with any of your other allergies or your asthma, and it'll help your body get back to normal a little faster so you can breathe again." As he spoke, he rolled up Steve's sleeve and carefully injected the antihistamine.
"There," he declared. "That's going to take a few minutes to kick in all the way, so we're going to leave the mask on for a little while, but once it does, you'll be breathing on your own again in no time." He smiled. "You're going to be just fine."
"See?" Tony said, rubbing Steve's arm gently. "Nobody's dying today. Doc said so." That got a little smile out of Steve, and Tony smiled back. "While we're waiting, you want to hear an Iron Man story?" he asked, figuring Steve could use some distracting.
Steve nodded, and Tony launched into a somewhat sanitized version of how he'd built the first suit in the cave. Steve stopped wheezing while he talked, and Tony could feel him breathing a little easier as he leaned against him, not having to try quite as hard to pull in air. He started leaning into him more heavily as the story ended, and Tony looked down to see his eyes drifting shut.
"Hey, no, no!" he said, giving him a shake. He was supposed to be getting more air now, not passing out! "Steve! Wake up! Greg!" he snapped, looking up at the doctor who was already moving closer at the alarmed tone in Tony's voice.
"It's okay," Greg said, casting a quick look over Steve and studying the monitoring equipment. "It's fine. Those are all good numbers over there," he said, pointing to the display. "Antihistamines tend to cause drowsiness, and with as little as he is, it's just hitting him harder."
"So it's okay if he goes to sleep?" Tony pressed.
"Totally fine," Greg assured him. "Actually, it's probably good for him."
Tony stared at the doctor a moment longer to make sure, then nodded.
"W'zit?" Steve mumbled, belatedly reacting to Tony's demand that he wake up, and blinking up at him blearily.
"Don't worry about it," Tony said gently. "It's okay." He shifted a little and moved Steve so that he was lying across his lap instead of leaning on his side. "Go on back to sleep," he told him, reaching up a hand to pat his head.
"M'kay," Steve mumbled, eyes already shut.
This was the second time Steve had fallen asleep on him, and, sure, he was drugged up this time, but it still made Tony feel all those disgustingly nice—dare he say fatherly?—sorts of things like it did the first time. Especially that little hand still clenching on tightly to his t-shirt. "I gotcha, kiddo," he whispered, running a gentle hand over his hair. "I gotcha."
Slowly, the knot of fear that had been coiled in Tony's chest and making it hard for him to breathe started to unwind. Steve was breathing, Greg was happy with what he was seeing, and said as soon as Steve woke up, they could go home. He wasn't going to lose him. It was always terrifying when something happened to the people on his team, to this, this family that he'd somehow stumbled into, but this had been…This was all that fear cranked up to eleven, because this wasn't some big bad villain they all chose to fight together, this was Steve, small and more vulnerable than he'd ever been and unable to fight back, and Tony had almost lost him to something so stupidly normal and yet so beyond the scope of all his abilities to fix.
After a while, Steve started coming around, and he was still pretty drowsy, but Greg had him sit up and take the mask off, and after he ran a couple of checks, pronounced him good to go. Steve smiled and thanked him sleepily and stayed sitting on Tony's lap, nuzzling his head against his chest in a way that made Tony feel so warm and fuzzy inside he kind of wanted to cry.
He had Greg give him some more Epipens to keep in more convenient places around the Tower, then he got back into the suit and picked Steve back up and flew home.
The window he'd made his exit through was still broken, so he just flew right back in to the main living area where everyone was waiting. Thankfully, F.R.I.D.A.Y. had been sending updates back, so everyone knew he was fine, but that didn't stop them from crowding around them anyway as soon as they landed.
"Is he okay?"
"Is everything alright?"
"How is he?"
"Whoa, whoa, whoa, easy," Tony said, backing up a couple of steps. "He's fine. See? Breathing on his own and everything."
"Hi, guys," Steve said tiredly, turning his head to look at all of them.
They all stepped forward a little more carefully. "How are you doing, sweetheart?" Natasha asked, brushing his hair back and putting a hand to the side of his face, and though Tony's eyebrows went up just a hair at the endearment, he wisely said nothing.
"M'okay," Steve said.
"You had us all real worried, man," Sam said. "Glad to see you're alright."
Barnes stepped forward and Steve made a plaintive little noise and held his arms out to him, so Tony smiled and handed him over. "Everything's fine," Tony said, answering the myriad of questions he saw in the super-soldier's eyes. "I've got a complete rundown for you from the doc when you're ready."
Barnes nodded, smiling gratefully, then turned his attention to Steve. "How do you feel, Stevie?"
"Sleepy," Steve said, shifting to get his head more comfortable on Barnes's shoulder and closing his eyes again. "And a little sick," he added, and Greg had said a little nausea was no cause for alarm. "But I can breathe now."
"Good," Barnes said, one hand coming up to cradle his head. "Why don't you go back to sleep, huh? See if you don't feel better when you wake up."
"Okay," Steve yawned, and just as Tony had ignored Natasha's use of the word 'sweetheart', so he ignored the soft kiss Barnes planted on top of Steve's head.
"Thank you," Barnes said softly, looking up at Tony and smiling warmly.
Tony nodded and Barnes headed for the living room, settling down onto the couch with Steve on his lap and pulling a blanket up over the sleeping boy. Tony sent the suit back down to the lab and told F.R.I.D.A.Y. to start getting the window taken care of, then pulled out his new stash of Epipens and set to making sure they were spread out and somewhere easy to get to so that he never had to go through something this worrying again.
It was a rough start to the day for the little guy, but Tony's got his Captain's back.
Up next, Thor and Clint talk about Post-Impressionism, and the gang takes a trip to the museum.