Another short one for you. But a fun one. Stark gets to be a super duper hero here. Save You by Matthew Perryman Jones is this chapter's inspiration. Enjoy!

"There it is. There it is. There it is."

Tony Stark had kept repeating this phrase as he closed in on the small clinic in downtown North Platte, Nebraska. He knew what he had to do, the risk involved. There were so many easier ways he could have done this. Ordinary Tony would have hired a private clinician to fly by jet to their location. He would have found a team of specialists and practically paid for their kids' college funds just to have them out there taking care of his friend. But this wasn't Ordinary Tony. This was a desperate and frightened version of himself that he rarely saw, that he hated. He'd seen enough of it after New York. It had preyed on him with such speed and ferocity that it made it hard to rationalize, to think. And so, now he was being brash. He was relying on the good will of people and that was hard to do. He was relying on trust from strangers.

He pushed through the front door of the clinic, keeping his silver aviators on. The place was small. The waiting room had a water-stained ceiling with chairs that seemed as comfortable as Styrofoam and a snack machine that looked as though it hadn't been refilled in several months. There were only a handful of people in the waiting room; an elderly couple, the woman breathing through a tube hooked to an oxygen tank, and a mother with her little boy who was coughing. Every time he did so, Tony cringed.

So help me God, if I catch the flu in here while doing this for you, Coulson…

He walked up to the desk where a nurse with red hair was speaking under her breath to an older woman with a bright pink uniform.

"…they said we might be closing within the end of the month… …hard to believe this place could be nothing more than a puff of smoke in such a short time… …Nobody is going to understand…"

Ah ha, Tony realized. Who said there's no such thing as divine providence?

"Can I help you sir?" The nurse with the red hair was looking his way, eyeing his sunglasses wearily.

"Today happens to be your lucky day," he started, letting the glasses slide down to the end of his nose.

"Hon, I used to consider every day lucky until recently," she said with a shake of her head. "Now what can I help you with?"

Tony pulled a checkbook out of his back pocket and set it down on the desk. "How much?"

She frowned. "For what?"

"To get your clinic out of the red? How much will it cost?"

The nurses looked at one another and then back at him. "Is this a joke?"

"Well, usually when I make jokes they're hidden under layers of subtext and sarcasm. Some people don't get them. It's not their fault. But this time, no, I'm not making jokes. I'm a concerned member of the community who thinks that…" He paused for a moment. "Where are we?"

"North Platte," the older nurse said.

"…that North Platte needs a thriving medical clinic."

"You're not from around here are you?"

"I didn't say I was a concerned member of this community… I'm just…generally concerned."

"Sir, all practical jokes aside, we are very busy here and have no time to—"

"Yeah, you looked real busy having that conversation about eventually getting laid off."

The red haired nurse's face tightened. "Sir, if you don't remove yourself right now, I'll have no other choice than to call the police."

"Why is that everyone's reaction?" Tony wondered out loud, thinking back to Darwin's reaction to him at the motel two days before. "Listen, can I be serious with you right now? I am being serious. I really need your help."

"We don't have a pharmacy on premisis, sir," she said, anticipating his line of questioning.

"I don't want drugs. I've got stock in about twenty pharmaceutical companies. If I wanted fifty bottles of Adderall, I could have it shipped to Stark Tower in a matter of seconds."

"Looks like you could use some," the older nurse said under her breath.

The red haired nurse squinted at him. "Did you say 'Stark Tower'? As in Tony Stark?"

He nodded."I did. I am. I'm him."

"And you want to pay for our clinic to stay in business?"

Jeepers, this is harder than trying to negotiate with Chechnyan guerillas. "Yup, that was the idea."

"Why?"

"Because I care. Small towns need places like this."

The older nurse crossed her arms and looked at him.

"Okay, I care and because I need a favor."

"What favor is that?"

"I have a friend that is in serious trouble. He's in a motel about fifty miles west of us and I need someone to come and help him. He could die and he needs antibiotics."

"Why don't you just take him to the emergency room?"

"It's…complicated."

The red-headed nurse shook her head. "We can't do anything for him then."

"Oh, come on!" he shouted, startling several people in the waiting room. "I've just driven across the United States, sat baking in a grimy little motel for two days and watched a man that I thought was dead start to die all over again. I'm a multi-million dollar face and name, a corporation that holds stock in hundreds of different businesses world-wide." He spread his arms a little. "I can even fly. But right now, I'm helpless. I can't do a damn thing. He needs a miracle. I need a miracle. And yes, I'm willing to throw whatever amount of money down that I need to in order to make that happen. I'm willing to risk you calling the police and having me locked in a loony bin. I don't fall on my knees and beg. Anyone who knows me, knows that. But I'm doing it now. I'm asking for just a little generosity, a little kindness. Please… help me help him."

The two nurses looked at one another.

Stark's pulse pounded in his chest. This was either the most desperate and stupid thing he'd ever done. Or the most selfless. I'm going with the most desperate, he decided.

His watch beeped and he glanced down at it. It was an alert from JARVIS. S.H.I.E.L.D. agents were closing in on his suit, flying on its own above Oklahoma. He needed an answer. He needed to get moving now.

The red-haired nurse took a pen from the mug on her desk and passed it across to him. "I'll call billing and get you a number, you fill out the check, and Dana will page Doctor Garcia." The older nurse started off toward the phone.

The eye of the storm. Stark sighed and felt the tension pass from his shoulders like a hot and oppressive wind clearing off toward the ocean. "Okay," he managed, his voice feeling small. "I can do that."

Hang on, Coulson. Don't be an idiot and die on me.

He'd stuck his neck out now, personally involved himself with S.H.I.E.L.D.'s pursuit of his friend. Now, the last thing he needed was for the ax to come down on it.

Chapter 20 coming (hopefully) Friday night. Stay tuned!