F for Fire
So thank you to everyone who reviewed the last letter prompt! I know I had promised no more two-parters, but cmon, a guest appearance by Loki? I think it as worth it ;)
ANYWAY, you're all evil, and so I got a lot of requests for Fire to be the next letter. Well here you are.
The last one was very mission-centric, so this one and the next one, letter G, are going to be very domestic Tony.
also, I am sorry for the wait, but i have spent the last week in an engineering faculty orientation, and these people are wild. I climbed a 50 foot grease pole today, guys. I'm exhausted.
ENJOY, AND PLEASE FOR THE SAKE OF ALL THAT IS HOLY, REVIEW. YOU DON'T EVEN NEED TO GIVE ME PROMPTS. TELL ME WHAT YOU ATE FOR LUNCH, I DON'T GIVE A DAMN.
'Cuz I'm
B-a-a-a-ack,
B-a-a-a-ack,
Back in Black!
Yes I'm Back in Black!'
Tony Stark's lips were moving in tune to the words that blasted his ears. His headphones were securely clamped around his skull, and his face was dripping with sweat. His legs pounded up and down, the treadmill absorbing his weight and his impact with ease.
He ran a hand over his damp forehead and glanced at the display section on the machine. He watched his heartbeat hovering steady at 180, and glanced evilly at the calorie count.
Little Bastards. Tony thought wryly.
Pepper had been on him recently about his health. He hadn't been sleeping regularly, of course, that was nothing new. But despite the gourmet smoothie maker in the kitchen, and the constant access to top chefs and dietary planners, Tony had been living off of Doritos and Mountain Dew down in the lab for the past month. He had put on about ten pounds, and Pepper had scolded him for not taking better care of himself. Really, she had just been pissed that his tuxedo needed altering before the gala last weekend. The cummerbund had struggled to fit properly, and that had tipped off Pep to the fact that he'd gained the weight. Tony remembered glaring at the suit. It had betrayed him.
Ah well. There's no time like the present. At least, that's what his horoscope had spat at him this morning. So Tony had committed himself to getting in better shape. For the past six days, he had been eating right, running every morning before breakfast, and getting at least six hours of sleep a night (which was pretty damn good for him.) He hated to admit it, but he felt fantastic – better than he had in years.
The Avengers were in quite a lull recently. The world hadn't needed saving in weeks. Tony wished that he could be happy for the fact that all was well and right with the universe, but the superhero couldn't help but feel bored. Where was the excitement? The danger? The steamy 'you-almost-died-on-that-mission-and-I-am-really-mad-at-you-but-so-glad-you-are-alive' sex with Pepper?!
Something terrible had to happen, and quick.
Tony watched the timer on the treadmill hit the thirty minute mark. He did an internal celebration and slowed the machine to a crawl. He hopped off, snapping his fingers at Dummy. The robot stood just off to the side with a clean rag and a spray bottle of disinfectant. The mechanical companion began to clumsily wipe down the treadmill as Tony wobbled over to the fridge, grabbing a drink. It always took a few minutes to readjust to regular ground after running for so long on the belt.
He greedily inhaled his water, wiping his face with the inside of his shirt. He pulled out his earbuds just as Creedence Clearwater Revival started to play. Pity, it was a good song.
Tony shut off the music and threw his phone onto the couch. His lab was quiet, save for the humming servo motors on Dummy as he whipped around with the cleaning supplies. The workshop was uncharacteristically orderly and neat. Tony had been much more motivated to clean things with all this new found energy. He hated to admit it, but maybe running wasn't so bad….
Nah, fuck that. Running was terrible. Tony Stark believed that there were only two reasons a person should run willingly: in a sport, with a purpose, like catching a ball or getting a touchdown or scoring a try or kicking a goal – or, you are being chased and your life depends on it. But running just for the sake of running? What the hell? Who does that? Well, Pepper…and Widow…and Steve…and – ah, well you know what? They have excuses.
Well, for Cap, it's not really fair. The man can run faster than a car for fifteen minutes and not even breathe heavy. He has to run, it's the only way he can use his metabolism and avoid combustion or something crazy like that. Widow….well she is a machine, and machine's need to stay well-oiled. And Pepper? Well, shit, it must be easy for her to jog like that when she weighs 80 pounds soaking wet.
My legs could keep going forever, too, if that's all the weight they had to support. Tony scoffed and collapsed on the couch next to his phone. He wiped his forehead once more and started scrolling through his messages.
He had one text from Rhodey asking about Rangers tickets.
"Already bought them. See you Tuesday." JARVIS didn't even have to be told; the message was transcribed live on the screen and sent.
He kept scrolling. A few emails from charities…"JARVIS, send them all twenty thousand. Unless they're for kids, then send them fifty thousand. Christmas is like, what – three months away?"
"4 and a half months away, Sir."
"Ahh, close enough."
"Yes, Sir. The checks are being processed as we speak."
"Thanks buddy."
Tony rose and stretched on the leather sofa. He threw off his running shoes and put them in the corner by the door. He exited the shop, locking the door behind him. Taking the steps two at a time (because why not do more cardio?), the engineer reached the landing for the elevator very quickly. A few buttons later and he was in the Avenger's suite.
Iron Man waved a nonchalant good morning to Hawkeye, who was eating cheerios with chocolate milk, next to the Black Widow who was cleaning plates so that Captain America and the Incredible Hulk could serve up their freshly made omelets to themselves and the Norse God of Thunder.
Just a typical day at home.
Tony entered the master suite just as Pepper was waking up. She gave him a quick kiss good morning, wrinkling up her nose at his sweaty face and laughed. He stripped down in the bathroom and turned on the water, but not before she came in to brush her teeth and gave him a smack on the butt. This led to a rambunctious game of naked tag which ended with Tony Stark finally getting his shower – but not by himself.
So, correction - a great day at home.
It was lunch time when Tony finally got to go outside. He had spent the whole morning in meetings with Pepper. Just because he wasn't the CEO anymore didn't mean that he wasn't present for some of the big business proposals. Pepper knew him well enough to invite him to the things that he would want to be involved in, so when she said "Tony, you need to be at these board meetings," he hardly ever argued.
Hardly.
"Pepperrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr" he texted her at noon. The man speaking at the hearing was about eighty years old and looked like a bargain-brand saltine.
He watched her from across the table, paying attention to Saltine Man, and kept his eyes locked on her face as she checked her phone. He smiled when her mouth gave a barely concealed twitch and her lips pursed. She typed silently back under the table.
"What, Tony."
"PEPERRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR" Tony's smile grew with childish glee as he watched her read the second message. Still, Ms. Potts successfully stifled her giggle.
"Tony, we are not passing notes in class, here. This is a very important meeting. Have you been paying attention at all?"
"I've been paying enough attention to know that this old man is so white and salty, he makes me thirsty just looking at him."
If Pepper could have, she would have put her face down on the desk.
"Tony that is incredibly rude. Stop this instant."
There was a pause.
"Wanna send me some dirty pics?"
"TONY, NO"
"Remember the shower this morning? You certainly weren't saying no, then."
"Tony, oh my god."
"Now THAT sounds a bit more like this morning."
"TONY WE ARE IN A BOARD MEETING"
"I'll show you my board ;) "
"ANTHONY EDWARD STARK"
But Pepper was far from angry. She actually had to cover her mouth with her hand. Even then, she couldn't stop it. She tried so hard to swallow her snort of laughter, but it came out as a very loud and very unattractive sound. Saltine Man stopped talking, looking shocked as he connected the origin of the sound to the usually immaculate and professional Ms. Potts.
"Ms. Potts, are you quite alright?"
"Um, Yes, Mr. Harrison," Pep was scarlet from head to toe, flustered and still trying not to break out into a fit of giggles. Tony was having the time of his life. "I, um – I'm sorry - I sneezed. I think I'm allergic to – uh – um, my new shampoo. If – If you'll just excuse me." The man nodded in concern, his wrinkles flapping crustily, which only made Pepper's attempts not to laugh grow weaker and weaker. The Stark Industries CEO gathered up her purse very quickly from the table and rushed out to the hallway.
Tony was close on her heels. "Sorry, Mr. uh," he gestured his hand apologetically.
The man looked shocked again. It amazed Tony how one so saggy could manage to lift his eyebrows up so high on his forehead. "Harrison, Sir."
"Yes! Of course!" Tony was collecting his Armani suit jacket from the back of the office chair. "Harrison! Good man, Harrison! Good work here, I'm very proud, very impressed."
"W-Well, Thank you, Mr. Stark. You know, I've al-"
"Yup! Great, I think I should check on Ms. Potts, you see. She has a terrible strawberry allergy, and if that's what was in her shampoo, then she may require some medical assistance. Ta-ta, Boys!" and Tony also flew from the room.
Out in the hallway, Tony came across Pepper sitting on a bench far from the board room, laughing so hard that tears were welling in her eyes. The engineer couldn't help himself, he joined in, sitting beside her and pressing a noisy kiss to her temple.
Tony's grin always made Pepper happy. It was big and toothy. The way he pulled up his cheeks made his smile hit his eyes. It was a full face smile. She loved it. She loved him, as reckless and childish as he was. Between her giggles, Pepper pulled her lover in for a kiss.
Again, check that – it was a fantastic day.
The Power Couple decided unanimously that, perhaps, it was not best to return to the meeting. It was because of this choice that the two got the rare opportunity to have lunch together outside on the charmingly crowded streets of summertime Manhattan. The Cherry Blossoms and Apple trees lining the business sector were blooming quite beautifully, scattering pinks and whites across worn city sidewalks. The hustle and bustle of New York City was a familiar and friendly sound, not intimidating to the two of them as it had once been.
Tony led Pepper to the tastiest and greasiest hot dog stand he knew of. She gave him a nagging look, reminding him of his diet. He, in turn, reminded her of how good he'd been for the past week.
"C'mon, Pep. I've earned it."
She still didn't look too convinced.
He pushed further. "Ok, well then, think about all the calories we burned off this morning, I me-"
Pepper gave a yelp and clamped her hand over Tony's mouth. "Buy the hotdogs, then, Tony!"
She couldn't help but later admit that he was right. The hotdogs, though dripping with grease, were absolutely marvelous. Crispy skin with soft juicy insides, and every topping under the sun.
"Good choice, babe." And she leaned over and dabbed at his goatee with her napkin.
"Now why would you wipe my face, Pep," he teased. "That goatee is my portable food storage. I was saving that hotdog scrap for later in case I get hungry in the lab!"
Pepper snorted and turned up her face. "NOOO don't even say that, it's disgusting," She laughed, trying not to spit chunks of her own hot dog.
They teased each other for a few more minutes, going back and forth. Soon they were done with their midday meal, and they Tony rose to his feet, chivalry demanding that he collect his lady's trash and throw it away for her. She thanked him politely, flirtation in her eye. They laughed again. The day was beautiful, they were beautiful, and everything was just…good.
But things very seldom stay that way.
Tony was twenty feet from Pepper, dumping their paper plates and napkins into the city trash can, when the two cars on the street in front of him collided. Everyone on the sidewalk flinched and screamed. The impact was thunderously loud, and very ugly. The little red Beemer had to have been speeding fifty miles an hour when it struck the painfully new Subaru Forester. The Subaru, the bigger car, had taken the turn too wide on the advance green. The cars were crushed together in a mess of metal and oil.
Within moments, Pepper was behind Tony, her phone to her ear, giving specifics to first responders. Tony always admired that about her. Yes, she was a very nervous person when it came to his safety, but damn, his lady could handle herself with poise in any emergency situation. Sure, she would probably shake and cry about it later, but for now she was a rock.
Soon she was off the phone and tugging on Tony's shirt. "Oh my god, hon, do you think everyone's ok?" Her voice was laced with worry and compassion. Tony tried to peer into the vehicles but a thick smoke was starting to form and cloud everyone's view. The engineer's mind began racing – every iota of information he had stored away about automobiles and combustion engines flashed into his head in bits and pieces.
"Pep, how far away did the first responders say they were?"
"About two minutes, why?"
Tony watched the smoke turn from grey to black. "Because I don't think we have two minutes."
Pepper didn't have time to ask him what he meant, because suddenly, the driver side Beemer door swung open. An athletic man, about 35, dragged himself and his briefcase out of the car, limping and clutching a bleeding left shoulder. The crowd watching cheered, and two bystanders rushed to help him to a safe distance. The whole street had shut down, and the traffic buildup, especially at the end of lunch hour in Manhattan, was substantial. Still, nobody dared get to close to the smoking vehicle.
The wind picked up for a split second on the island, almost as if fate, and the smoke parted for a moment – but it was long enough for Tony, who had been staring intently, to make out the clear bodies of a woman and a young teenager in the driver and passenger seats of the Subaru, both unconscious – hopefully just unconscious. He didn't hesitate for another moment.
He called over his shoulder as he ran into the street. "Pep, call the police back and let them know that there are two victims in the second car – both unresponsive!"
He didn't look back at Pepper, but he knew that her eyes would be getting very big and very angry. "TONY!?" she screamed after him. "TONY, WHERE ARE YOU GOING?! TONY, NO!"
"JUST DO IT, PEPPER."
Tony heard her give up the fight and get back on the phone. He was about ten feet from the accident now, and he had to have a plan.
Tony knew he couldn't lift the hood at this point and ventilate – it was too late. Providing a swell of oxygen to the engine fire would cause a flashover, an explosion, and imminent death to the two victims in the car – well, and himself, but that was not the priority right now. He mentally scolded himself for not wearing his iron bands – the little tracking bracelets for the Mark VIII.
Just then, a loud pop sounded from under the hood of the car. The hissing that followed it put a knot of dread in Tony's stomach. He was standing still now, his hand reaching for the front door handle. Anthony Stark was not a cowardly man by any measure, but it was taking all he had to stifle his Fight-or-Flight instincts. This car was a ticking time bomb, and it could explode at any moment.
Heat was radiating off of the wreckage in waves, drying Tony's face and making his skin feel stretched tight. He tentatively grabbed for the metal door handle. It was hot to the touch. Simply out of precaution, Tony ripped off his hundred dollar tie and strapped it around his hand. It served like an oven mitt, allowing him to pry open the dimpled metal. With the door out of the way, Tony had to work on seatbelts.
"Ma'am? Ma'am can you hear me?" Ton was speaking directly to the mother in the driver seat, hoping desperately that she would wake up and manage to get herself free so Tony could work on the kid. The teenage son in the passenger seat looked much worse for wear. A large laceration to his forehead boded ill to him regaining consciousness anytime soon, and his right shoulder looked completely separated from his torso – shit, well, maybe it was better that he stayed out a little longer then. Tony did not envy the pain that kid would be in when he woke up.
Tony almost cheered when the woman gave a small twitch. Her head rolled to face him, a small trickle of crusted blood standing out boldly against her pale forehead.
"M…..M' son?" She could hardly keep her eyes open. Tony looked at her, panicked and maternal even in this dazed state, and then looked back to her kid.
"He's…He's fine. He's already safe. I need you to look at me, though, alright? Keep looking at me. What's your name, sweetheart?"
Tony knew he was lying, but the look of peace that washed over the mother's face was worth it.
"M…Maureen. I'm Maureen."
"Alright Maureen, can you do me a favor? Can you keep those beautiful eyes open for me? I'm going to unbuckle your seat belt, and then I'm going to help you out of the car. Does your neck hurt? Can you feel your legs?" She responded positively to everything. This was going smoother than Tony could have hoped for.
But all too soon, the car gave another jolt and the front hood began to shake with the building pressure. Tony licked his lips, the sweat dripping down his face was menacing, and not nearly as encouraging at it had been this morning on the treadmill.
"Ok, Maureen, the car is going to be very not safe in a very short amount of time. I'm going to help you out, and then I need you to keep walking and not turn around. At all. Do not look back here, do you understand me?" Tony shot another look at her son. His face was now covered in his own blood, his breathing was becoming ragged. He needed help immediately. Luckily, Maureen was far too concussed to ask questions, because as soon as she was out of the car, she just started stumbling towards the sidewalk, never looking back. Tony thanked the heavens when Pepper ran forward to grab the woman just before she fell. Miss Potts helped her over to the sidewalk, a safe distance of thirty feet away.
Tony could hear the sirens getting closer and closer now - had to be less than a minute left to wait. He shot another glance at the kid. Tony was heaving and coughing terribly in the smoke; it filled his lungs and stung his eyes. Another gasket blew under the hood. The smoke was everywhere, now, coming into the car through the vents. Tony was getting dizzy. Time was up.
Tony Stark turned slowly back to face the sidewalk. He found Pepper's face in an instant. His lover had given Maureen to another group of civilians – one of which appeared to be a nurse on lunch break, guessing by her scrubs. That was good, Maureen would be ok.
Pepper's eyes met his. They were full of anxiety and confusion. God she was beautiful. He took a split moment to appreciate her. Her hair, the way the sunlight always seemed to hit it just right…He loved her eyes, that professional set of them that hid so well how absolutely mischievous and giddy she could be. He looked at her long legs, her smooth slender fingers that held his strong calloused ones so perfectly. He looked at her. Just looked.
And he appreciated, because this may be the last time he'd have the chance.
And Pepper stared back, because she realized the exact same thing just a moment too late to stop him.
Tony ran around to the passenger side of the car just as Pepper started screaming. He heard her struggling – somebody was holding her back from the wreck. Good. Pepper would be ok.
Tony discarded the tie wrapped around his hand and pulled with all his strength to open the crushed door. The metal blistered the skin on his hands, but he managed to pull the door to the side.
He didn't have time to stabilize the boy's spine – he doubted he would have time to blink. The seatbelt was off, and Tony was pulling the kid to the pavement by his good shoulder when the flames caught on the hood. The smoke was replaced by a blinding yellow and red flash, and then it happened.
Tony reacted as quickly as he could, pulling the kid, who couldn't have been more than 14, into his arms and rolling away. He cradled the boy against his stomach, lying on his left side on the street, shielding the younger human's body, just as the car exploded.
And it goddamn exploded.
The vehicle shot about seven feet backwards and into the air. Flames rose in pillars on both sides. The Beemer's front fender melted against the heat, sticking the rubber tires to the asphalt. The Subaru went up in a ball of fire, engulfed and spitting viciously in every direction. Bystanders screamed on the street, feeling the heat rush malevolently over their faces even from over thirty feet away. The firetruck that had just arrived screeched to a halt, its uniformed occupants scrambling in every direction trying to contain the worst of the flames. Shrapnel from the engine flew in a 360 degree radius. Folks standing to the north side were covered in antifreeze splatter and brake fluid while those on the east side were brushing flaming ball bearings from their hair. It was a mess.
People were shooting orders and warnings from all corners of the block, but nobody was shouting as loud as Pepper Potts.
"TONY!" Her cries were long and anguished. Tears were sprinting down her porcelain white face. To think, only minutes ago, she had been crying from laughter. Now she was sobbing in desolation. She had tried to run out, to grab him – but two uniformed police officers had held her back. Now she fought against them again, but only briefly. In seconds, she was on her knees, hands running through her hair, panic and pain etched into her features.
The whole intersection was a mass of charred car parts and flaming puddles of gasoline. The smoke was so thick that nobody could make heads or tails of what was alive in its center. The fire department was wetting down the flames on the outside of the wreck, but the heat and the smoke were so intense that they couldn't rush in to find out if anyone had survived. Everyone on the sidewalks had collectively given up hope that the brave man and the young child had lived. They turned their heads away from the accident in respect and in mourning. But not Pepper. Pepper watched the fires swell and lash. She kept her eyes fixed on the smoke and ash. She refused to give up hope. She refused to give up on Tony Stark.
When she first saw the silhouette in the smog, she thought she was hallucinating. She figured that grief had driven her mad. But when she saw it, becoming clearer and clearer, more shape, more outline. Pepper shot to her feet, clutching onto the officers and pointing into the flames.
The two blue bloods squinted at first, not seeing what she had seen – but then the shadow came closer, looking strangely oblong. They both gripped their shoulder radios and started swiftly giving orders. Within seconds, EMTs were at Pepper's side, advancing into the smoke in the direction the officers pointed them in.
But there was no need for the emergency workers to go into the smoke - the shadow was emerging onto the street.
From the dark swirls and tendrils of unbreathable fumes, Tony Stark wobbled his way into safety. He was staggering dangerously, his face pale and sweaty in pain and heat exhaustion. In his arms, the 14 year old was swaddled securely. He almost refused to let him go when the officers grabbed them both, but his arms just sort of gave out. The two men collected the boy and rushed him into one of the awaiting EMT units. The other medics rushed forward onto the street and grabbed Tony just as he collapsed.
Pepper felt her heart stop at the sight of her love. Tony was face down on the street, his elbows trying to support his body and get back up. The EMT's were holding him down. His face was blanched and covered in soot. His lungs were damaged from all the smoke and gas inhalation, and his breathing could be heard from the next street. It was wet and halting, but it was there. Tony was there. He was safe. Pepper's legs were jelly. She couldn't bring herself to stand. All she could do was sit on the side of the curb and thank whoever was up there that they hadn't taken her Tony away from her.
After twenty or so seconds, the EMT's were radioing in for a backboard. Pep watched, not wanting to get in the way, from the curb. But alarms sounded in her head as she watched them load Tony onto the backboard – but on his stomach. Concern trumped her jelly limbs and Pep finally managed to hustle over to her boyfriend's side. She peered over the corner of the EMT, about to ask why they were laying him on his stomach.
The moment she looked, she found her explanation.
The moment she found her explanation, she wished she had stayed on the sidewalk.
Pepper recalled with a devestating blow how Ton had shielded the boy in passenger seat - he had put the child to his chest and his back to the car; and now, the consequences of that action were plainly visible. Tony's whole back was burned. Melted. The skin was bubbling, cracked, bleeding, scarred, charred – every which way. His suit shirt had melted and burned on top of it all, fusing the fabric into his skin. It was the most disgusting thing Pepper had ever seen. She backed up wildly, throwing her hands out to her sides. She ran back to the bench and vomited into the nearby trashcan, her freshly consumed hotdog coming back up with zero digestion accomplished. It was not a pretty sight.
But, oh god. Tony was much, much worse.
Pepper got into the ambulance with the EMTs and thanked Christ that Tony was unconscious on the board. She couldn't even begin to imagine the pain.
Almost as if he was reading her mind, the very young EMT across from her spoke up.
"Ma'am, I know it looks really bad, but usually with degree burns of this…caliber, the victims can't feel a thing. Not until they start to heal. The fire kills the nerves to the point where there is no pain."
Pepper just stared at him. That didn't make her feel any better.
The ambulance pulled into the docking bay at the hospital with a screeching halt. The emergency workers expertly rushed to and fro, making Pepper dizzy with the rapidity of their movements.
Almost without her comprehension, Tony was rushed from her side and wheeled past a set of sterile doors on her right. The last glimpse Pepper got of her best friend and best lover was of a set of gloved hands pressing gauze onto his blistering shoulders.
Steve was flipping through the Times and eating his lunch when the phone rang in the kitchen. Barton called from the couch to remind him that it was his turn to answer it, and despite the fact that Steve had actually answered it four times in a row that morning, he begrudgingly groaned and jumped up to stifle the ringing. The phone came off the receiver and he held it casually to his ear. He didn't even have a chance to get out a quick "Hello" before a high pitched and strained voice assaulted his auditory range.
Steve listened for several seconds without saying a word.
Barton felt the tension in the air and shut off the TV immediately. He sat upright with an urgency seldom seen in the carefree superhero. One look at his team's leader and he knew that the morning of relaxation was over. Barton was up and by Rogers' side before the blonde could say a word.
Steve nodded and said abrupt words, "yes", "no", "absolutely"- it only made Clint more nervous. Steve hung up and looked into the archer's eyes. What Barton saw there only made the ball of dread in his stomach grow bigger.
"What's the mission?"
"It's not a-" Steve's voice broke slightly and he stopped. His eyes were full of sorrow, and his entire body was blanched white and rigid. That's when Clint knew that this wasn't a call to duty, this wasn't the end of the world. This was personal. Steve's next words were a sucker punch to the gut.
"It's Tony."
Everything was loud. Loud and itchy. Why was everything so loud and itchy? Whose idea was this?
Tony scrunched his nose. It was itchy. His whole mouth was cotton, his tongue was a brick and his throat was sandpaper.
The skin on his face felt crinkled and dry, his hands were in desperate need of moisturizer, and something smelled.
What was that smell? Well, whatever it was, it was assaulting his olfactory receptors. It was like someone had left a pot roast in the oven for much too long and it had burned.
Burned.
Fire.
Smoke.
Car.
Kid.
Pepper.
Tony?
Everything rushed back and hit him like a bus – well, maybe that wasn't a great analogy for right now, but regardless, Tony felt his heart pounding in his chest. He wanted to get up, to open his eyes, to run far, far, away - to go see Pepper and make sure she was alright, to avoid open flames for the rest of his life – he just had to do something.
Tony felt his muscles contracting, his back arching in the air as his mind went into panic mode. A wave of pain crashed into him, only sending him into a spiral of nausea and confusion. His adrenal glands pumped over time and his fight or flights were screaming "flight" 110%. Tony needed to move. He thought he heard screaming, but he couldn't be sure if it was coming from him or not.
Tony needed to run.
In his mind, the flames were chasing him.
In his mind, he was burning.
Externally, heart monitors were going haywire.
Nurses were sprinting into the room as Natasha called loudly into the hallway. Steve and Barton were trying to hold Tony down as gently as possible against his manic thrashing.
"STARK, STARK CALM DOWN. STARK WAKE UP. STARK!?" Steve was screaming into Tony's face, but it was all drowned out by Tony's own cries – and they were dreadful. Absolutely the worst sound they had ever heard. His lungs were raw and damaged from smoke inhalation, and his throat had been cracked and bleeding from the heat when the EMTs had brought him in, so now it was nails on a chalkboard every time air escaped his vocal chords.
Tony was reeling, throwing his back up off the bed, sending gauze pads flying and his blistered back was splitting and oozing a bloody pus all over his sterile sheets.
The doctor had suggested that now, after almost three full days of a medically induced sleep, it may be a good time to wake Tony up.
Obviously, they were wrong.
Steve cursed loudly, but in the hectic room nobody cared to take notice. This had not been a good idea at all. Rogers could only think of the mother and child that were safe in the other wing of the hospital – all because Tony had to be a goddamn hero.
Dammit, Steve was trying so hard to be mad at Tony, but the man made it nearly impossible.
The nurses quickly pumped as much morphine into Tony's lines as they safely could. The doctor swooped in and pushed some other concoction through the IV shortly after. Steve didn't know what they were giving him, but soon after Tony was still and breathing steadily, so honestly Captain America could not care less.
The whole team, shaken, regrouped to the vigil they had been holding for over 72 hours now, ever since Pepper had called Steve in absolute tears from the emergency room. Widow and Bruce sat quietly beneath the window and focused on nothing but their thoughts.
Hawkeye had perched himself at the foot of Tony's bed. Nobody touched him – not even the nurses – until Hawkeye gave them a once over. Steve sat next to the doorway, the guard of whoever entered the room as well as all hallway activity. This operation had been in place for many days now, and would likely be in place for many more.
But regardless of how long it took Tony to recover, his team would be here – ever vigilant.
Because that's what a family does.
Again, sorry for the wait, guys, and i hope you liked the chapter. I did the best i could in the time frame i had, and i think it came out fairly well. I certainly enjoyed writing this one. Thank you to the many people who suggested this prompt, G will be gunshot.
I am looking for H and up in alphabet. Thanks guys! I love you all!
Now that school has started for me, I will be trying to post once a week instead of twice a week and im sorry, but its the best i can do. I will be posting on saturdays from now on!
