Word Count (this chapter): approx. 3460

A/N: I envision Thor is a modern-day Don Quixote. For those of you who don't know who that is, it is the self-assigned knightly title of the protagonist from the novel Don Quixote. In it, the protagonist is obsessed with literature he has read about chivalrous knights, and from such literature, develops the persona of such a night. Don Quixote rides into the night, intent to be the hero he has convinced himself the world needs.

Of course, Don Quixote gets the ever-loving shit beaten out of him by sane people roughly every chapter as his delusion gets progressively more and more outrageous. Hilarious book I really need to get around to finishing, and you, if you haven't already, need to get starting!

Well, thanks for all the comments and favorites and kudos, everyone! Comments always mean so much to me—in fact, I got the idea for what Bruce's mom does based off of coming up with an answer for a commenter's question.

This fic is about to be drenched in Stanner in about a chapter, so just hold on till then!

Enjoy!

-Chapter 4: Mommy Quit - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

A little paranoia was normal, Tony had thought. Ignore it and it will go away. Tony was being stupid then, and as the anesthetic starts to take effect he can't help but wonder if mom had felt the same way with her condition.

"Oh my god, will he be alright?" Bruce asks.

"Don't know, but I need to be alone right now. I'll tell you if anything happens."

He ushers Bruce a step from the door and slams it shut. Howard doesn't have a way to contact him if 'anything' happens, Bruce knows, but he lets Howard go anyway after waiting a few seconds in vain for the door to reopen.

The days are shorter now, Bruce realizes walking home. As the last glimpses of sunlight sink behind the skyscrapers, it hits him hard.

Tony's probably going to die.

Whoever said hatred was the darkest feeling must have never felt worry before because as Bruce walks home all he can see is black. Black night, black mind, and black blood in his best friend's veins. Anxiety pricks his head like an insect. He has an urge to punch his arm.

When he reaches his apartment, Bruce stumbles up the stairs and falls onto his couch face down in a pillow just like his mom always sleeps.

Bruce really wishes his mom would come home early. The work she does on staff at a nonprofit healthcare organization is all long hours and no pay. Still, whenever Bruce feels upset about his three-room house, he thinks of the emaciated kids that aren't supposed to exist in America smiling for probably the first time in months because his mom just saved their daddy.

Of the three rooms in his and his mom's apartment, the kitchen, the living room, and the bedroom (each floor of his complex has communal bathroom stalls and shower areas), Bruce's mom insisted he take the bedroom after he got too big to share it with her. She was anal about him not messing up his 'growing, young boy spine' by sleeping on a couch. Sighing at the memory, Bruce lugs himself off the couch and trudges into his room to sleep.

He should have asked Howard for more information. Bruce doesn't know if Tony will be okay; he barely knows what's wrong with him. Don't you die if blood flow stops? Maybe Howard meant something else. Bruce thought Tony had a regular pacemaker, maybe, but Howard made it seem like it was something much different. If it was, it could have explained why Tony was so sensitive over the issue, and why his scars were by his femoral artery instead of on his chest as in normal pacemaker implants. (Though Bruce's mom had done implants both through femoral and chest before.)

Yet, as he drifts into an uneasy sleep, all Bruce can wonder is what could have possibly happened to make Tony's device malfunction so severely.

"Okay, guys," Steve starts, looking from Loki to Thor. "I have good news and bad news." They are gathered in Thor's room after school, Loki laying on the bed and Thor in the beanbag. Steve is standing in front of them, shuffling his feet. Loki looks up.

"Bad news first," Loki says. "So it's less dramatic."

"Okay, that works well considering I didn't actually have good news… Alright." Steve takes a breath in. "I may or may not have, accidentally, by no fault of my own and completely not on purpose, put Tony in the hospital. By mistake."

"Really?" Loki peers up from the magazine he is reading. "Nice work."

"Brother!" Thor yells. "Establish fairer sympathies forthright! And Steve, most certainly you did not hospitalize Brother Stark?"

Steve rubs the back of his neck. He feels like the absolute biggest jackass in the world, and probably is. "Not on purpose! I mean, it was afterschool yesterday at Veronica's pool party, and Tony was on his phone texting someone, so I joked that he was being a computer geek, and then he said 'yeah right' and that he could beat me in something sporty, so we decided to race around the block—friendly challenge—and, I mean, I am on the football team, and Stark does, like, nothing physical so I don't expect him to bolt forward like he does, so I start bombing it—"

"Steve. Use periods. When you're. Talking," Loki says slowly. "You're not making any sense, and with me having to translate Don Quixote over here, I don't have time to decipher what you're spewing too."

"Gah!" Steve exclaims, gesturing his hands. "Fine, fine. Me and Tony were racing each other, and I guess he has asthma or something because, halfway through he just stopped and passed out. Literally, passed out."

"Oh, good. I thought you meant he metaphorically passed out."

"Loki, let me finish! Either way, so Tony just passes out, and I call 911 and then his house to leave a message for Tony's dad. So an eternity later the ambulance comes and oh GOD I messed up!"

"That's a pretty creative way to murder someone, actually. I personally would have gone with death by shark, though. Much more interesting."

"I didn't kill him! Yeesh, Thor, say something to calm me down!"

Thor stares at the floor, pensive then says, "It is most odd you would challenge Brother Stark to a running event, with consideration to his condition."

"Wait, he actually does have asthma? Jesus Christ, that makes it even worse!"

Loki laughs. "Stark doesn't have asthma. He has this insanely rare heart condition."

"No," Steve says.

"Yeah, it usually isn't that bad, but, like, it's still a heart problem, so I guess running so fast—"

"No, no, no—"

"—With you messed him up—"

"Jesus, no—"

"—And his heart gave out," Loki finishes.

"No!" Steve throws his arms up in their air first and then over his own face in anguish. "God, hell, why doesn't anyone tell me these things?!"

"Most people don't know. Apparently, it's a sensitive subject or something." Loki flips another page.

Steve collapses on the bed next to him, face down in a pillow. "What have I done?"

"Well, killed Tony, for one thing." Steve pushes himself and deadpans at Loki. "What? You asked a question; I answered."

"Loki—wait. How do you know that Tony has a heart thingy? He hates you worse than he hates me." Steve pauses. "I think?"

"Don't flatter yourself, and I actually know everything about everyone. For example," Loki points at Thor, "Professor Chivalry sings opera better than he plays a linebacker, and you sometimes where woman's underwear because it's 'comfier.'"

"I do not!" Thor and Steve yell.

"Thor, I'm your brother—um. Was your brother. Past tense." A flash of emotion passes over the Odinsons' faces. Steve suddenly feels intrusive. "Ahem. What I mean is, Steve can deny the truth all he wants, but you, Thor, I have heard you belting out in the shower, when cooking, cleaning, jogging and pretty much every other mundane activity."

"My operatic abilities are of no concern to you, and even if they are, then it's certainly not of your concern to share them!"

"Wow, look. Five seconds and me and you are fighting again." Thor shoots Loki a look. "What? I like fighting. It suits us."

Thor starts to say something when Steve groans. "Aren't we supposed to be dealing with the fact that I may have killed one of the richest kids on the face of the Earth? Your stupid brotherhood rivalries can wait for the next meet-up."

"Two things: one, me and Thor don't have any 'brotherhood rivalries', and, two, if Tony's dead, he's not on the Earth anymore. Problems solved."

"Loki, stop talking." Steve bites his lip. "Okay," he decides, standing up from the bed and nodding to himself. "I have a plan. Tony's friends with that Bruce person, right? From gym? I bet he knows what is going on."

"Try again, Dr. America. Thor's friends with Tony, too, and Tony didn't tell him anything." Steve starts to say something when Loki sighs loudly and takes out his phone. "Bruce Banner, right? What do you want me to text him?"

"How in Earth did you get Bruce's number? He doesn't even know you."

"I know everything, remember?" Steve starts to reply but then gives up and stops himself. Loki continues, "Okay, sending 'u hav any idea wats wron w tony?' I presume that is how one is expected to text, right? I really only do phone calls myself."

"To questionable persons," Thor adds off-handed. Now Steve feels very intrusive.

"Um, haha, yeah. People text different ways. And thanks," Steve says, trying to split the tension. There's a minute of silence with Loki glancing from his phone to Thor, Thor fiddling with his hair, and Steve wishing he was anyone else in the world. Except maybe Tony. Oh god.

u hav any idea wats wron w tony?

You're lab partners with a popular girl once and suddenly everyone knows your number; before I answer, who is this?
- Bruce

Steve jumps up and leans over Loki's shoulder. Thor pops up to join them, probably as happy as Steve is for the distraction. "By certain we are acquaintances of Tony!"

"Yeah, tell him we're Tony's friends."

two of tony's worst enemies and thor

"Brother, that hardly seems helpful—"

"Not your brother anymore," Loki interrupts in almost a snarl. He sends the next message before Thor or Steve can reply, reading it aloud along with Bruce's replies.

Let's play the how well do I know tony game: you guys are probably steve and maybe loki or … hmm… guess I lose?
- Bruce

its loki n steve n thor. u kno tony pretty well. u know whats happenin to him?

Try asking it again in a full sentence, and I might.
- Bruce

What's happening to Tony, jackass?

Progress! But no, I don't know what really went down or what is currently going down, and even if I did, I don't think tony would want me telling you two.
- Bruce

Steve is having a panic attack. Tony had collapsed when they were racing, and now Steve thinks he killed him. Don't play the 'not telling you!' card.

Bruce stops.

you tell me what happened and I'll tell you what's happening
- Bruce

Deal

Loki abridges the story for him, giving Bruce the gist of what happened. It sends Bruce into another wave of panic. If Tony collapsed because his heart wasn't working right under stress—maybe it couldn't pump blood fast enough to carry oxygen to the brain–then was it more or less dangerous? It may mean that there wasn't a mechanical dysfunction in the device, just that Tony's heart was too weak, and the device needed to be stronger.

Or Tony could be dead right now, and Bruce won't know until it's in the papers or the rumour mill at school tomorrow. There is a small fan in Bruce's room. Bruce is suddenly aware of how loud it is. He doesn't reply to Loki, instead lying back in his bed. It's soft, comforting and warm even though the blankets aren't very thick. The scream of the fan eventually exhausts him, and he falls asleep. He doesn't dream.

Two hours later, Bruce wakes up feeling unrested and groggy. He makes coffee and browses stupid things on the internet to make the droning go away. His fan is still too loud, and if he turns it off, the lights are too bright or that one lock of hair won't stay in place on his forehead again. Bruce shuts his laptop. Then his phone buzzes. Bruce slaps his forehead, realizing that he probably brought down the wrath of Loki during his nap and—

Sorry I ditched you. Got a lovely date with a shit doctor and MALE nurse, though.
- Tony

The sound of relief, Bruce learns, is his ringtone. His senses regulate, and he lets out a gulp of air he didn't want to admit he was holding and sends a reply instantly.

Your ok! wat happend?
- Bruce

What happened to my sexy synonym man? And I'm FINE, Rogers just made me race him and I guess my heart thing couldn't take it.
- Tony

Jesus, Tony. If your 'heart thing' couldn't take it, why would you try?
- Bruce

Because clearly it was my INTENT to pass out! Love being at the hospital they slaughtered my mom in; always a good time.
- Tony

Tony really wishes there is an 'edit – undo' option for sending messages. Bruce's reply comes a few minutes late.

Alright, if I ask you to explain, will you? It's okay to tell me to fuck off
- Bruce

Tony glances around the recovery room. The machine in his heart had just needed a little tweaking; the doctor finished it in an hour, though the doctor fixing and or examining his artery where the blood had stopped for an instant (thank God the machine had a backup routine) had taken four times as long. Apparently, the machine had malfunctioned due to some electronic interference and his heart thrumming too fast. His body had passed out from shock. There wasn't any brain damage or stoke, which Tony guesses he should feel happy for. He still feels like shit.

He should probably call his dad. Tony doesn't want to fucking call his fucking dad. He shuffles his iPhone around in his hand, the iPod adjusted it so it wouldn't affect the new metal pulsing in his chest. Howard had ditched him two hours after Tony had gotten here. He doesn't deserve Tony's word, plus they'll have all the time in the world together when Howard bunks them up in some high-end hotel while the electronics in Stark manor are updated for Tony's device. That could take months. Tony wishes he had something to drink.

A doctor pops in with a smile and reminds Tony to call his dad whenever Tony feels up for it.

Tony flips her off after she leaves. He doesn't listen to her; doesn't call him. Correction: doesn't fucking call him. Instead, Tony rereads Bruce's message, taking a minute to decide before typing a response.

My dad had this very skilled doctor taking care of my mom since she had an insanely rare heart condition. Her heart was too small and weak for her body, so every six months or so, she would have to surgically have more heart tissue added, hopefully until her heart was normal. Or something like that. More of a physics than a bio guy.

Anyhow, during one of the implants, our doctor fucked up and my mom died on the operating table. My dad wouldn't fire the guy either since he was 'the only one' who knew how to deal with mom's bad genetics which I guess the guy had designed his own PHD at Yale and all that, but FUCK that if we were ever letting this jackass doctor do that surgery on anyone again, so my dad designed a device for me with help from his higher-up medical friends so my shit heart can actually circulate blood to my body and strengthen my tissues and all that. Doctor Kill-Little only had to put it in me, then he was out of my life for good save some checkups twice a year.
- Tony

Tl;dr— whenever I have heart issues, I have to look my mom's murderer in the fucking face. Maybe dad forgave him but fuck if I did.
- Tony

Jesus Christ, Tony. Do you need to call me?
- Bruce

Basically. And you wish I'd call you, Banner ;) But, bright side, the doctor works quick when he isn't slaughtering his patients, so I'll be out by tomorrow, but me and my dad have to bunk in some hotel together while all the electronics are rewired in our house. I don't want to stay with my dad, at all! :-(
- Tony

…Did you just frowney-face at me? Seriously? After telling me all THAT you frowney-face?
- Bruce

:-( My dad is going to stress me out again. I really can't deal with stress right now or my heart will fuck up and all have to see dr. murder again.
- Tony

That doctor didn't kill your mom. He or she was trying his/her hardest to save her. Her heart condition is what killed her. You can't get revenge on a person, but you can on a condition like that. If you killed the doctor, you wouldn't feel any better, but if you found a cure for whatever killed your mom, you would. Hating people never ends well.
- Bruce

Wow, do go on, Plato.
- Tony

I am trying to be helpful.
- Bruce

You're emulating what you see in chick flicks because the media has your brain wired. I don't want helpful, Bruce. I want someone I can rant to that will mindlessly agree with me
- Tony

Well, ruminating in hatred or stressing won't fix anything. I would know.
- Bruce

HA. Right. Bruce, you may be sarcastic, but you are the nicest, most low-maintenance person I know. You don't hate anyone, not even captain amurica or Loki fucking Odinson, and the idea of seeing you stressed out or raging is kind of hilarious.
- Tony

Someone just called Bruce low-maintenance. Bruce actually laughs as he messages back:

Oh my God I am so not low-maintenance, it is absurd... But this isn't about me. It's about you.
- Bruce

Okay, fine. I like talking about me. I just can't handle being around my dad right now. He is going to lecture me about the doctor and mom and responsibility and all that glorious crap I HATE, and he is probably going to want to spend time with me like and pretend like he gives a shit if I am healing right and just UGH. I wish I could stay anywhere else.
- Tony

Bruce starts to wonder if Tony is hinting at what Bruce thinks he's hinting at.

You can't stay at my place.
- Bruce

What? I know that, I was planning on just complaining until I ran out of steam, or you told me to fuck off, actually. Staying at your house would imply me attempting to solve a problem instead of just basking in it.
- Tony

Right. Because you can't stay at my house.
- Bruce

I know. I wasn't asking.
- Tony

I mean, we have literally three rooms. The showers are communal and broken half the time. I used a hose most of freshmen year.
- Bruce

My dad can pay to have those fixed if I ask. And, seriously. I wasn't implying that. I know you don't like people at your house.
- Tony

Above that, I'd have to sleep on the floor or you would. We don't have a spare couch, we very rarely have food. It would be a trainwreck.
- Bruce

Bruce?
-Tony

And my mom would be so insanely awkward if I had a friend stay over and probably embarrass the crap out of both of us
- Bruce

Okay, now it kind of sounds like you of want me to stay over.
- Tony

I am literally explaining why that would be a TERRIBLE idea!
- Bruce

Oh, I am so crashing at your place now. You walked me right into that.
- Tony

I didn't literally do anything, and it definitely wasn't leading you to my house since you obviously can't stay here.
- Bruce

I'll pay for everyone's food.
- Tony

WELCOME ABOARD!
- Bruce

"Steve, I don't think staring at my phone is going to make Banner reply any quicker," Loki says, now sitting upside-down in a beanbag next to Thor. Steve is on the bed trying to staring at Loki's phone in an attempt to speed-up time.

"It's been hours! What if Tony is dead and he isn't telling us? Oh my god, I'm a murderer!"

"Come on, Steve. Be optimistic: you're probably not a murderer. Yet."

"I hate you, Loki."

"Fair enough," Loki states with a shrug then scoots an inch further from Thor, who had started leaning against him. Steve is about to yell something when there is a beep from Loki's phone. He scrambles to accept the message and reads it.

Tony's fine. But, he says he wants to have a 'talk' with whoever told you all he had heart issues.
- Bruce

OH THANK JESUS…

Going to work under the assumption that was Steve.
- Bruce

:-) it was

WHY THE SMILIE, WHY.
- Bruce

Steve is so ecstatic he is jumping off the walls and into the bed, bouncing and laughing. After he has sufficiently filled his quota for acting like a four year old for the day, he puts an arm around both the Odinsons and lays back, smiling in inexorable relief.