Summary
Catching a cold is a minor annoyance; after all it isn't life threatening in anyway. Unless your name is Tony Stark; then you have something to worry about.
Author Note
I am so surprised at the number of reviews and follows this received; I can't thank you all enough! Your reviews have persuaded me to continue this, so watch out for future updates : ) I hope this fic meets your expectations : ) I'm still proof reading so forgive any mistakes, enjoy.
Fragility
Chapter 2
Two days had passed since Tony had first acquired a faint tickle in his throat and an aching in his chest, and by now it was clear that the symptoms he currently experienced certainly were not caused by dust; but of course he kept trying to convince himself that he was just paranoid and that everything was all in his head.
He spent all his time in the lab, trying to work through the fatigue and misery he was feeling. What had started off as a slight irritating prickle had developed to a light rattle in his lungs, but the billionaire carried on as normal. He swallowed a few pills, brushed aside his worry and tried to focus on his work; tried being the key word.
The playboy constantly felt hot and feverish and found that he had no motivation to work at all despite how much he wanted too. Jarvis had altered the room temperature several times and even turned on the air conditioning but Stark felt no better for it. He could feel sweat lingering on his forehead and his shirt clung to him like a second skin, but nevertheless he continued to labour on stubbornly despite the unpleasant feeling.
The mechanic was currently lying on his back, coughing lightly whilst removing parts from an old engine; both hands firmly grasped a pair of strong wire cutters whilst an old screwdriver was gripped between his teeth. As he surveyed the tangle of wires and screws in front of him his vision slowly began to blur. It was only when Stark heard Jarvis address him that he realised he'd been staring into space.
'Sir!'
'What is it J?' the billionaire muttered, dropping his tools he sat up and rubbed his eyes with the back of his hand.
'Sir your temperature has risen to 103 °F, I must insist that you seek medical attention.'
'Not now Jarvis, kinda busy..'
'Sir I really must insi-'
'Mute.'
Stark cut off his AI's concern and sighed at in exasperation. He pushed himself upright from the hard, cold floor, steading himself on his desk he wobbled to his feet as he felt his blood rush straight to his head. He groaned at the dizzy sensation he was feeling, and reluctantly stumbled slowly towards the elevator, scuffing his trainers on the floor as his feet dragged lazily across the ground.
Perhaps he needed a quick break, just a few minutes to grab something that would reboot his system, and for that he was in need of a strong cup of coffee. To Tony, coffee was the solution to all of life's problems; second to alcohol of course. The billionaire leaned against the cool metal walls behind him and another long cough set him wincing in pain.
Maybe getting out of bed this morning hasn't been Stark's best idea.
Even after the elevator had stopped and the doors had opened he stood still for a long while, taking advantage of the coolness the metal had to offer on his warm forehead. When he eventually lifted his head away from the cold wall Tony let out a pitiful groan, the unbearable heat returned just as quickly as it had left.
He staggered out of the elevator and slowly plodded along the hallway, he squinted his eyes wearily at the bright lights that illuminated the kitchen a short distance away from him, they only succeeded in making his head ache worse.
'Jarvis dim the lights' he croaked, sighing in relief when the lights faded to little more than a dull glow.
The billionaire reached the kitchen and sighed in relief when he finally collapsed onto the nearest seat available, a stool at the island in the middle of the room. He rested his head in hands before glancing at his expensive wrist watch groggily.
20:05.
It was 8'oclock already?
'Geez, you don't look so hot,' a voice commented, offhandedly.
The genius nearly jumped out of his skin, he turn his head in the direction of the voice, when he looked up he was met with the familiar gaze of Clint Barton, who was currently poking his head out of an open vent in the ceiling.
'Jesus Christ Barton!' Stark breathed heavily, placing a hand over his heart, 'can't you make a fucking noise?!'
The archer jumped down, landing on his feet and shrugged his shoulders. The assassin swiped some drinks from the fridge before taking a seat opposite the billionaire. He placed two cans of soda on the table, sliding one in front of Tony, he frowned as he took in the worn appearance of the man slouched over the table. Tony reached out for the soda and took a small sip, sighing in relief at the pleasant sensation of the cold liquid running down his throat.
'You look like shit,' Clint spoke, eyeing the man with concern.
Stark looked up and blinked resignedly, but did not grace the assassin with an answer. Instead he took another sip of his drink, for once he was too tired to retort.
'Shouldn't you be-'
'My friends! How do you fair this late evening?!' Clint's words were cut short when a familiar, bulky blond figure entered the room, bellowing loudly.
The tone of his voice made Tony's toes curl, he dropped his can to the table and covered his ears with his hands, he swore he could feel his body shaking at the man's loud volume.
'Think you could tone is down a little point break?' He mumbled groggily. 'Before the dogs start howling…' Thor frowned at his dishevelled appearance.
'My friend, you appear most weary,' the blond now spoke in a much quieter tone.
'Relax, he's probably had too many beers,' Romanovs voice came from the doorway; Tony turned to face her and frowned for a moment before rubbing his temples.
'There aren't enough beers in the world to make living with you guys more bearable… ' he joked, his voice was croaky. His breathing hitched for a moment as he unsuccessfully tried to hold in another deep cough. Clint smirked, mistaking the sound for Stark choking on his drink.
'Careful man, wouldn't want you to choke to death or anything…'
Stark kicked the man under the table, his steel toed capped boots successfully collided with the archer's knee, causing his to swear loudly.
'Ow! Son of a-'
'I advise you not to finish that sentence Barton,' Natasha scolded, interrupting him with a glare.
'-mother duck,' he finished, wincing as he rubbed his bruising leg.
'When I die feather face, I'm gonna haunt you till you crap your pants,' Tony muttered as he rose to his feet.
'I'm so scared…' Clint joked, downing the rest of his soda.
'My friend, perhaps you in need of a great feast to replenish your energy?' the demi god took care to speak quitter this time.
'Food is your answer to everything…' Stark mumbled, wincing at the rising tightness in his chest. Maybe the god was right he mused to himself, he might feel a little better on a full stomach. When was the last time he ate anyway? He couldn't remember, probably a sign he should feed himself.
'Fine, pizza it is,' he sighed, 'but you better pick a decent movie, If I have to sit through one more chick flick or cheesy love story I'm kicking you all out.' He spoke slowly, trying to preserve the air in his lungs.
Tony picked up his empty can and steadied himself on the table as he slowly dragged himself towards to doorway, tossing the metal in the trash of his way out.
'Where are you going?' Romanov asked curiously
'To plan my haunting…' he wheezed quietly.
The assassin rolled her eyes.
'… and talk to the only other sane person living in this tower,' he finished, as he entered the elevator across the hall '… and I'm not talking about Capsicle.'
The moment the doors closed he erupted into a fit of hacking and spluttering, finally releasing then tension that had been building up in his lungs.
If he could make it through a whole movie without coughing it would be a miracle.
When Tony's coughing fit had finally subsided he stepped out of the elevator and headed down to one of the many spacious labs the tower had to offer. His footsteps echoed loudly in the deserted hallway, the only other noise that could be heard was his labored breathing.
It was no surprise that the science level of the tower was completely empty, the only two people with access to all labs were Stark himself and of course Bruce. They both had their own private labs but they were rarely ever used, access was completely restricted, allowing him and his science bro to work away to their hearts content without being disturbed.
It was ironic that Tony was about to interrupt Bruce and drag him away from his work. As the billionaire neared the sliding doors he took a deep breath and cleared his throat before punching in his security code and stepping inside. The door clicked shut behind him and Tony strode forward quietly, peering around the corner, that's when he spotted the scientist sat at his desk peering down a microscope. Stark smirked when he saw how engrossed he was in his latest project, it was time to have a little fun.
Carefully, he took tiny footsteps forward, shuffling quietly against the titled floor until he was just inches away from his lab partner. Holding his breath, he stood right behind his team mate, until he was peering over his shoulder.
'Boo,' he whispered.
The genius could barely contain his amusement when the physicist nearly jumped out of his skin. He sprung from his chair in shock and turned around sharply, his face relaxed when he saw the mechanic stood behind him.
'Tony!' he hissed, letting out a big sigh of relief, he collapsed back into his chair, holding a hand over his racing heart; 'Do you know how dangerous that is!'
'Oh man your face was priceless!' Stark grinned, his smile only widened when he saw the un-amused glare Bruce sent his way, he broke down into a fit of laughter.
'Do you have to do that every time you come in here?' Bruce sighed, 'that is not good for my stress levels Tony.'
The scientist only received a hearty laugh in response, despite his annoyance with the other man he couldn't help but crack a smile himself.
'Sorry Brucie but you were asking for it,' he wheezed between laughs.
'Tony I could have poked my eye out!' he gestured to the long blunt lense of the microscope only to received another chuckle in response.
'You're playing with fire Tony.'
'Bruce, you are about as dangerous as a marshmallow,' he mused, erupting into a deeper laughing fit as he pictured Bruce as an angry green marshmallow.
Eventually Stark's laughter subsided to a quiet chuckle; the man stepped forward and patted Bruce on the shoulder and he coughed lightly, all the laughter had really dried out his throat.
He took a step forward before pushing the doctor to one side, allowing him to peer down the microscope nosily, he squinted as he glanced down the lens and Bruce's wheelie chair skidded across the floor. The physicist didn't try to prise the billionaire away from his work; instead he let out a groan and began rubbing his forehead.
'You know, I swear I had a full head of brown hair before I met you…'
Stark shifted his attention away from the scope and back to his science partner; he sat up and tussled the man's hair roughly with his fingertips.
'Keep telling yourself that grandpa,' he snorted, he regretting the action almost instantly as he began to choke. The doctor raised a brown in surprise before frowning at the noise coming from his chest.
'That doesn't sound good,' he commented offhandedly, eyeing the billionaire with concern.
'S-nothing,' he wheezed as he continued wheezing lightly, 'dry throat or something' he croaked, shrugging of the man's concern.
'It doesn't sound like nothing,' Bruce watched the man like a hawk; he stood to his feet, 'you're not sick are you?'
'It's nothing I'm fine,' he insisted as he coughed once more, 'probably allergies or something…'
'Why don't I believe you?' Banner muttered, frowning as he pushed his chair beneath his desk.
'Well you might not believe that,' the mechanic gasped quietly as he got his breath back, '- but believe me when I say there's a pizza upstairs with your name on it.'
'Don't change the subject Tony; I know your hiding something.'
'I'm not changing the subject, I'm just saying that I brought you one of those veggie pizza's covered in rabbit food, because I know you like them so mu-,' he rambled, another cough interrupted him at the end of his sentence.
He rolled his eyes when he saw Bruce staring at him again. He could see the physicist's fingers twitching by his sides like he was itching to get out his medical bag.
'Ughh whatever, I'm hungry come on,' Stark grabbed Banner by the wrist and pulled him from the lab, ignoring the man's protests.
'Tony I'm not done yet, what about my work?'
'You've been down here for hours, you can finish it tomorrow' he mimicked, grinning at the disbelief on Bruce's face. The doctor sighed as they stepped into the elevator, he couldn't take his eyes off his team mate, he was sure he looked paler than usual.
'Are you sure you're okay?' he asked, interrupting the silence. Tony turned and offered him a weak smile.
'I'm fine Bruce.'
He didn't believe the man's words for a second but he let the subject go.
'This isn't over you know, I'm watching you Tony,'
Stark grinned like a Cheshire cat as the doors closed.
'Mmm kinky,' he purred, waggling his eyebrows teasingly, successfully steering the scientist away from the previous topic of conversation.
Bruce buried his reddening face in his hands; the man never did miss an opportunity to make a situation awkward. Maybe there was nothing wrong with Tony after all.
Just half an hour later a group of superhero's found themselves gathered comfortably around one of Tony Stark's many ridiculously sized television screens. They were lounged around the room comfortably; Clint, Natasha and Steve shared a sofa whilst Tony and Bruce occupied another. Thor was currently occupying an arm chair in the corner of the room; everyone was surprised his large figure fit comfortably in such a small space.
The screen was so big, it rivaled that of a cinema's and the sound was loud enough to make the room shake, which was good news for Tony in his current state. Luckily for him everyone's attention was focused on the movie they were watching, Steve and Thor in particular were engrossed in the visual effects.
Empty pizza boxes and drinks cans littered the floor around them; Tony had eaten a measly two bites of his pizza before he decided he'd had enough. After the first bite he felt tired and slightly nauseous, he pushed his food to one side and leaned into the back into the smooth leather, trying his best to not to give in to the temptation to cough. Thor has been more than happy to devour the rest of the billionaire's food. Stark pretended not to notice the concerned looks Bruce was sending his way.
He wasn't focused on the movie at all.
He'd hope it would provide a great distraction but it did not. He felt exhausted and miserable; his eyes stared at the screen blankly, blinking every few seconds. Eventually his weariness grew and he could feel himself drifting off. He shook his head, willing himself to stay awake stubbornly but it was no use. He could feel himself slowly falling asleep, he didn't really want to sleep on the sofa but he had no energy to move himself.
His body would probably punish him for his actions in the morning when he woke with a sore back and a stiff neck. But he'd slept in rougher places, he was sure the sofa would be more comfortable then falling asleep at his desk.
He shuddered and crossed his arms tightly around himself as he suppressed another cough and tried to rid himself of the goose bumps covering his arms. The mechanic propped his head against the arm of the couch and rested his eyes, as he slipped into heavy doze he forgot about the other people in the room. The sound from the movie soon faded into a distant background noise.
Even when the movie was long over he didn't wake to the sound of amused hushed laughter and the group eventually leaving, he didn't even stir when Bruce draped a thick blanket over his shoulders.
Everything was dark.
He struggled on the brink of consciousness, squinting in the poor light but he could see nothing. The only thing his mind could comprehend was the sound of frantic voices, shouting in a foreign language and loud screams of pain.
It was only when he felt a sharp burning in his throat that he realised the screaming voice was his own.
A searing pain tore at his chest, he wriggled and squirmed in discomfort but there was something holding him still. He fidgeted, frantically trying to lift his arms and move away but a heavy weight stopped him. There were hands pushing him down and gripping him tightly, there grips bruised him. No matter how much he struggled he couldn't break free.
There was another unbearable twinge of pain before he screamed again and everything turned black.
The next time he opened his eyes there was still pain, but this time he was greeted with nothing but silence and the presence of a stranger in the corner of the room. He felt so heavy and numb, he tried to sit up but he felt woozy and disoriented. He vision was blurred and his head span as he lifted his head in confusion.
He caught sight of a beaker of water on a table next to him, and reached out for the glass, desperately wanting to wet his abused throat but his limbs betrayed him. His arm swung his hand at the glass clumsily in confusion and the beaker fell to the floor.
He slowly rolled over to reach out again but came to a stop when a painful tugging stopped him in his tracks. That was when he saw something strange out of the corner of his eye. There was a wire protruding from his bandage covered chest.
It was attached to a car battery.
Panic began to surge inside of him; he tore off the bloody stained bandages clumsily and tugged at the wire, only to stop when an unidentified man stepped forward.
'I wouldn't do that if I were you,' his unfamiliar accent echoed in the small space.
Everything after that was a blur.
He barely had time to process anything before strong arms seized him and dragged him away to another room. His arms were pulled behind his back tightly and without warning he was thrown forward into a wall of icy coldness that took his breath away.
When he surfaced he caught a quick glimpse of smug looking faces before he was once again submerged into the cold. He could feel the cold temperature hit his lungs, squeezing every last drop of precious oxygen out of him.
He needed to get out, but no matter how much he struggled his head never surfaced from the water. His chest ached, he need to breath but there was no air, the man felt himself growing weaker and his body stilled as he ran out of energy.
Just as he had succumbed to exhaustion, strong hands gripped his hair and roughly pulled him upright. He coughed and spluttered weakly trying to dispel the water sitting on his lungs when he was pushed down again. There was barely any time for him to inhale a lung full of air before he was pushed under again.
Angry muffled shouts above him made his heart beat faster.
His body was shivering uncontrollably from the mixture of cold, fear and adrenaline pumping through his battered body.
There was another shout before finally he was pulled from the water once more and thrown to the floor painfully, he gasped in desperation.
He needed air.
'Sir!'
Tony gasped as he awoke shaking and sweating, his shirt clinging to his back. Clumsily pulling himself upright he coughed heavily but a weight in his chest prevented him from breathing clearly. No matter how much he hacked and coughed he couldn't draw in a deep breath, he felt too tired and heavy.
In his confusion he couldn't help but panic as he awoke disoriented. He continued to choke and scratch at his throat desperately leaving angry red marks all over his neck. He could hear Jarvis speaking but he wasn't listening, he was too busy freaking out. He pressed a hand again his chest and took a short breath of air before erupting into a fit of painful coughs, which emptied his lungs of every last breath of air. It felt like an elephant was sitting on his chest.
When his mind finally caught up with what was going on his pulse quickened dangerously and he was overcome with dread.
He couldn't breathe.