A/N: I apologize for the long time without an update. My right hand was hurting really bad-to the point where I was using my left hand to hold the mouse when I used the computer-and then school happened. This is a research-based chapter for me. I don't have epilepsy, though it is very common in autistics.
Disclaimer: I own nothing except the plot.
There are some annoying things that go hand in hand with being an Aspie. Food intolerances and sensory problems may be the most common, but I've never been very "normal". So it only seems fitting that I have one of the slightly less common symptoms-epilepsy.
Of course, it's noted in my SHIELD file, and I've taken medicine since I was diagnosed at thirteen. The pill is just part of my daily routine, as is the one for my hyperactivity. But I struggle to remember when to get more, and Pepper isn't always around when I need her.
After everyone's move, though, I knew I needed to try harder. Especially after having a dangerous episode in my workshop after two sleepless nights without meds a month after everyone arrived. Even more so since I couldn't notify JARVIS before it happened, having only two seconds recognized warning myself.
Luckily, Bruce heard the crash of my limp body. His arrival was the only thing preventing me from being ten times worse off.
"Tony?" he called. "I thought I heard something... oh no." He notices my eyes, pleading for help as I drop into unconsciousness. "It's fine, Tony. I'm here. JARVIS, is he epileptic?"
I don't hear anything else.
When I finally raise myself out of the dreary fog, the lights are dimmer and someone is next to me, cradling my head. I try to sit up, but I feel a firm hand on my arm.
"Don't move," Bruce says. "Do any sedatives work well?" I shake my head, grimacing at my migraine.
"Dark, JARVIS. I have enough of a headache."
"Of course, sir. Would you like me to notify anyone else?"
"Not now, J. But do you think you could bring up the seizure file for Bruce?" I mutter as the man helps me lean up against the table. "And are there any more pills?"
"No, sir, but the file is being prepared," the AI responds.
"What do you take?" I hear as the holographic file comes up and Bruce stands to look at it. I gesture, exhausted.
I barely feel it as another seizure begins, barely having the chance to groan "Hey" before I'm pulled back into the void.
The next thing I know, I'm lying in my bed. I count six people gathered around me.
"What-" I mutter, too exhausted to think straight.
"Hey," I hear as Pepper sits down next to me and helps me sit up using the headboard. "Here." She hands me a mug and helps me swallow a sip of coffee. "The pill's dissolved in it. Just drink."
"Thank you," I mutter, recognizing the half-caf blend I use in situations like this. Too much caffeine can prompt another seizure, but I need to be alert enough to recognize them.
"I'm now designated as responsible for keeping track of the pills for you," Bruce says from his place in the corner. "Why didn't you get the meds earlier, for crying out loud?"
"... I sort of forgot," I mutter, giving Pepper the all clear signal and pointing to Bruce.
"He needs space. Everyone but Dr. Banner, please back off until he says otherwise." Everybody nods, and I sigh in relief as they back off.
"Sorry," the three of us say simultaneously. The other two burst out laughing, and I smirk silently.
"Next time, Tony, make sure Jarvis is programmed to recognize a fall and notify whoever's around. Also, have him schedule the next time you'll need more with a few days to spare." I nod, adding Pepper's instructions to my mental to-do list.
I write up a booklet a couple of weeks later after having a couple of small seizures from fireworks over the city. Bruce and I spend an afternoon teaching everyone what to do. First: make sure I am safe on my side, without glass or splinters hurting me or my neck bent at an odd angle (causing a possible concussion, and I've dealt with that enough). Next: time it and notify the others. Once it stops: wait for me to wake up, and keep something for me to drink nearby so I can swallow my emergency pill. We go through a couple of practice drills at Bruce's insistence, and everyone understands their job.
The next seizure takes place nearly two months later. Bruce noticed both of my meds empty (JARVIS's notifications went unheeded after a battle) and sent Steve down the street with explicit instructions on what to do. In the meantime, I was lying on the couch watching Pokemon, trying to keep calm and not run around from my hyperactivity.
"Eyes closed, Tony," I hear Clint call. I glance up at his position in the loft, expecting him to fire an explosive arrow or something. When I glance back at the television, strobe lights are flashing. I raise my hand to tell Clint I've been triggered, and I hear him call out to the others as he climbs down. "TV off, JARVIS," he yells as it begins.
When I come to, Clint is sitting near my feet and Bruce is next to me with water and the pill. "About time," he murmurs, handing the items to me. "You were out for twenty minutes after the seizure."
"How long was it?" I ask, swallowing my mouthful of water.
"Two and a half minutes. Nothing horrible." I nod.
"Thank you." I mean it, too. The others have insisting on practicing extra and having weekly drills, and they have clearly paid off.
"What else would we do for a friend?"
A/N: How do you like it? If you have any questions about autism or any ideas or prompts for this story or any of my others, review or PM me!