Another short one. Sorry I didn't have this one up for you earlier, guys. I've been battling a terrible migraine the last few days. That and I've been working. Getting behind on other stuff that has priority. I'm going to get another one up for you late tonight. In the Water by Anadel is the inspiration here. Sorry it's so short. Enjoy.

"Today marks the second day I've spent entirely indoors, Phil," Tony announced as he stared out the motel window. The sun's glare was almost too much to handle and the view of the highway with the cars cruising by in non-stop formation only made him more restless.

"With the windows shut, mind you," he added, turning around and leaning in the chair nearby, allowing the feeling of the sun to spread across his back. It felt good. Spending so much time in the room had made him cold. Several times he'd found himself at the door, his hand clenched around the knob. It couldn't hurt if he took a little jaunt, anything to just get out of that room for a little while…

But Coulson's words haunted him. He couldn't let S.H.I.E.L.D. get ahold of him, not after what they'd already done to him. And as much as Tony figured the iron suit would protect his friend, his doubts lingered below the surface. Fury had used him before to fight in New York. He wouldn't put it past the director to pull a similar trick here.

"What's the matter?" Coulson piped up, his voice shaky. "Is the view not interesting enough for you?"

"Unless you think staring at traffic like it's a screensaver is somehow cathartic…" Tony answered, glancing at Coulson.

The agent had been lying in the hotel bed for the last 48 hours, too weak to move. His arm was freshly bandaged, though his clothes were sweat-stained and wrinkled. His skin tone was still pasty and clammy to the touch while a two days rough sketch of a beard had started on his face.

"Christ, you look terrible," Stark announced. "Is this the image the agency is promoting now a days? That 'recently laid-off from the office' mentality isn't so dashing with the ladies, you know."

Coulson shivered despite the blankets over him. "I thought it might be endearing."

"Don't get your hopes up. You look more like a smallpox victim than anything else."

Coulson coughed. "Thanks. That's really making me feel a whole lot better."

The door behind them suddenly opened and Stark whirled out of the chair, his fist closing in preparation of a fight.

The manager of the hotel staggered back at the sight of Stark's fist. "Easy, Stallone. I'm not here to rob you."

Stark let his hands fall to his sides and sighed. "You're supposed to knock. Didn't anyone ever teach you that?"

"Am I?" the old man grumbled, closing the door behind him. "Excuse me. I didn't realize I was late to dinner at my mother-in-laws."

Stark rolled his eyes. "Did you get the stuff?"

The old man, a retired army medic whom they learned was named Darwin, handed a plastic bag over to Stark. "Got you a standard mobile phone, a headset, couple bottles of Advil, some new clothes for you and your friend…"

Stark pulled out a pale pink button down shirt. "What is this?"

Darwin shrugged. "It was the only color they had in that size."

Stark tossed it over onto the bed. "That one's his."

"…And last but not least…" Darwin produced a paper box with a cartoon chicken on the side. "Best fried chicken around."

Tony's eyes bugged. "This might be the first time I've cried over eating fried food." He immediately pulled open the box, produced a crispy chicken leg and bit into it. "Mmm… Phil! You sure you don't want some of this? Taste that grease! It'll cure you right up."

Coulson closed his eyes and shook his head.

"How is he feeling?" Darwin asked under his breath to Stark.

"Well, he still looks terrible. I thought new stitches and a new bandage would do the trick but he's not getting any better. He needs those antibiotics if he's going to recover."

Darwin moved around Tony and approached Coulson, leaning over him. "Son, I'm just going to check your wound. Don't move." He took Coulson's arm gently. "No bleeding through the bandage. That's good at least. Let me know if you can feel—"

"AH!" Coulson screamed, his back arching in the bed.

Tony dropped the chicken leg back in the box. "What? What'd you do?"

"I barely touched it," Darwin assured, unwrapping the bandage.

Coulson writhed, his fists balling. "Please, stop," he begged.

Stark came around to the other side of the bed. "Easy, he's just trying to find out what's going on."

Once Darwin had gotten down to the wound, Stark's eyes darkened. Tiny red wavy lines extended from the already horribly bruised and deep red cut.

"It's infected his lymph system," Darwin said, carefully sliding Coulson's arm out and feeling underneath. "It's swollen. He needs to go to a hospital and he needs to go now."

"I can't take him there. I already told you that," Stark argued. He'd made up a story, one that seemed realistic but knew he couldn't divulge the whole truth. He couldn't place anyone else in danger of knowing what S.H.I.E.L.D. had done.

"Because there's a chance they might lock him up? If he tried to kill himself, it might be the best option," Darwin said with a shake of his head.

"You told me you used to see this happen all the time. Guys out of the service with PTSD who would do this kind of thing. I don't want my friend getting mixed up in a place like that. He got confused, that's all."

"You're right. I did see it all the time. I saw guys that I'd never thought would break…crumble. And it hurt to have to see them need that kind of treatment. But it was for their own good," Darwin responded, rewrapping the wound.

Tears ran down Coulson's face from the pain.

"Your friend here may die. This could kill him. You think you're saving him, you think you're doing a good thing by keeping yourselves locked in here away from where people might recognize you… How much of that is personal ego? How much are you willing to sacrifice to make sure that he doesn't die?"

Stark stared at Coulson. If he walked out that door, if he found the antibiotics, he would be recognized. He would bring S.H.I.E.L.D. straight to their location and it would be all over in a matter of moments. Coulson wouldn't even have a chance to make it to Portland to see Audrey. But the alternative was like a knife twisting in his chest. The thought of sitting crunched up in a dingy hotel watching his friend slowly suffer and potentially die was impossible. He couldn't do that.

He wouldn't do that.

"I need you to stay here," Stark ordered Darwin, scraping the car keys off the table. "I'll be back by dark." He started out the door, the fresh air like a welcome breath on his body.

"Son," Darwin said, catching Stark before he walked any further.

"Yeah?"

"You're doing the right thing."

"Yeah…Right and wrong can get a little blurry sometimes though," he said, before continuing to the car. He'd get to a secluded spot, get the Iron Suit on and find a hospital. Who says it has to be the closest one, he thought, climbing into the car and turning the engine over. If I can't bring you to the hospital, Phil, I'll bring it to you.

The tires spun as he backed out and sped toward the highway.

Late tonight. It'll happen. Stay tuned.