Chapter Text
Tony was tinkering on a new project in his lab. His old project was a wooden birdhouse that he made for Bucky’s birthday. His husband recently found an interest in watching birds and studying their behaviour, which Tony would say is an improvement from staring at people for an uncomfortable amount of time. However, it had been a while since he worked with wood before, but at least he was a quick learner and learned how to cut, sand, and glue the wood all in one day. The sunlight shining through the windows illuminated the sawdust in the air, most of it vacuumed through the industrial air filter in the ceiling. The wooden birdhouse was stored safely in one of Tony’s cabinets. “Dum-E, screwdriver,” he said to his robot companion, holding his right hand out. Dum-E made a few whirring sounds and a screwdriver was placed onto Tony’s hand. Tony screwed on the piece of metal that hid the coloured wires from the outside. He grabbed his water bottle, and tipped it to his mouth, which temporarily soothed his hurting throat.
“I suggest that you should take a break. Working for long periods of time can be straining to your body and health,” JARVIS advised him after he paused the AC/DC songs that were playing on the speakers.
“Yeah, yeah, but it’s for Bucky. He’s turning 108 years old this year. That’s an accomplishment if you ask me.” Tony walked over to the table saw that was installed a few days ago.
He heard JARVIS sigh, as he unpaused the music. A part of JARVIS’ job is to keep Tony from overworking himself to the brink of exhaustion. However, some days prove to be a challenge to get the man to take several breaks.
An hour passed by, and Tony felt abnormally tired and warm, but brushed it off, since he didn’t want to stop working. Tony didn’t have the best of sleep last night, and his body was usually cold, so no big deal. So, he continued to work away, occasionally asking Dum-E and U to help him. His science bro, Bruce, was away on a 4 month long trip to help educate people in countries across the world, so it was just Tony alone in the workspace.
“Tony.” Tony jumped in surprise. He spun his chair around to meet a pair of blue eyes.
“Jeez— Steve, don't do that!” Tony spun back to his desk and placed his head in his hands.
Steve placed his hands on Tony’s shoulders, massaging them. “Alright, alright. Time to take a break, Bucky is making lunch right now,” Steve said, letting go of his hands on Tony’s shoulders. Tony grumbled, reluctantly getting off of his chair, feeling like he weighed like a dozen stone bricks. His head was spinning, and his body was definitely showing it as well.
Steve held onto his waist. “Tones, are you feeling alright?” Steve looked at him with worried eyes, using one hand to feel his warm forehead, and the other to stabilize the wobbly guy in front of him.
“Peachy.” Tony gave a fake smile, even though he could always tell if he was faking a smile or not.
“Come on, you’re seeing Stephen. No opposition.” Steve added the last part when Tony was going to interject something. He learned from past experiences that Tony had a tendency to refuse help and push people away when he was sick. Which was why Bucky, Steve, JARVIS, or their close friends had to keep an eye on him to make sure that his illness would not worsen. Steve led Tony into the elevator. “JARVIS, the common floor please.”
“Of course, Captain,” the AI responded. The elevator started to move downwards, and the hand that was resting on Tony's waist moved to his forehead.
“Goodness, you’re burning up, sweetheart.” Steve looked at him with sadness swirling in his eyes. He moves his hand to brush through Tony’s brown curls, moving it away from his forehead. Once the elevator doors opened, Steve guided Tony to the black L-shaped couch. “Alright, you stay here, while I get Stephen.” Tony gave him a thumbs-up, resting his head on the pillows. Steve gave him a soft smile, and walked away back into the elevator.
Tony turned his head left, and he could see Sam fiddling with his fishing rod on the coffee table, a portable see-through container that stored thread, glue, epoxy, and other needed equipment.
“Hey, what are you up to?” Tony leans against the back of the couch.
“Fixing my fishing rod.” Sam picked it up, the tip of the fishing rod was gone. It looked like it had been snapped off.
“Need any help?”
“Nah it’s fine. It happens when the rod’s caught a fish and I lift it straight up, too much pressure.” He sands the broken end smooth.
“Yikes, don’t let Steve see that mess.” Tony gestured to the layer of dust on the surface of the table.
The elevator whirred up, and Stephen walked into the common floor. “Mr. Doctor. Thought you were a neurosurgeon?” Tony eyebrow raised.
“Yes, I’m a neurosurgeon and a general practitioner.” Stephen placed a thermometer in Tony’s ear. A few seconds later, beep. The glowing orange on the screen showed 38.4c. “And drop that Mr. Doctor nonsense act.” Stephen rolled up Tony's sleeve and looped a blood pressure cuff around Tony’s left arm, velcroing it together. It gave a normal reading. He took the stethoscope from his neck and placed it on Tony’s back. Steve took Tony's hand into his own.
“Take a deep breath,” Stephen instructed. He moved his stethoscope around different places on Tony’s back; the left and right sides of his upper, middle, and lower back. Tony to the best of his abilities, trying to breathe as deeply as he can. However, he felt his lungs being somewhat restricted. Stephen heard faint crackles like a static from the fluid in his airway, instead of the clear whoosh of air. He lifted his stethoscope away from Tony’s back, placing it back around his own neck. “There’s something happening in your lungs. It could be a lung infection, so I need you to get an x-ray at radiology. I’ll refer you to Doctor Cho’s firm, so I’ll have a clearer understanding to make your diagnosis.”
“I don’t think that’s necessary.”
“I’d argue that it is very necessary.” Stephen started to walk away. “Once you get that x-ray, tell Doctor Cho to forward the images to me.” Once the doctor walked away from Tony’s line of view, he threw his head back on the couch.
“Don’t wanna get an x-ray.”
“I know, Tones, but this is what we have to do sometimes to feel better,” Steve squeezed Tony’s hand. “I’ll get the food Bucky made, and bring it over to you, alright?” Tony hummed in agreement, and Steve let go of his hand.
“A lung infection? Dang, how’d you get that?” Sam asked.
Tony shrugged. “My immune system’s not the best at doing its job.”
Sam chuckled. “Well man, I hope you’ll feel better. Let me know if your two cuddly bears get too confining for you.”
“Yeah, yeah. Will do.”
Steve walked into the open space, and handed Tony a place with food. When Sam saw the food, he immediately pounced to the kitchen along with some of the others. The food was laying on the table like a buffet style. Bucky took off his apron and tossed it into the laundry chute, then walked over to the sick guy sitting on the couch,
“Hey, how’s my sick sweetheart feeling?” Bucky inquired.
“I don’t feel hungry.” Tony turned his head, and pushed the bowl Steve was offering.
“Tony you gotta get something in your stomach, I would like for you to not faint,” Steve sighed. Bucky nodded in agreement, sitting next to him.
“Look, I made you soup so it would be easier to eat,” Bucky said. Tony shook his head. “It’s either you feed yourself or I feed you, Tones.”
Tony rolled his eyes, grabbing the spoon and taking a spoonful of chicken soup to his mouth. “Happy?” Tony glared at the two men sitting in front of him.
Steve patted his shoulder. “Yes, please continue.” Once Tony drank most of it and was full, Tony slumped back into the cushiony couch. Bucky took this as a sign that Tony was done eating and said “Good job, bud!” and took the bowl to the kitchen where the rest of the Avengers were eating, then placed the bowl in the dishwasher. Steve pushed the rotating arm table so that Tony could get out.
“Alright now, come on, time for the x-ray,” Steve said, holding out a hand which Tony took, and used it to pull himself to his feet. Then they walked to the elevator, Steve still keeping a grip on him to make sure that he wouldn’t fall. “JARVIS, the x-ray room please,” Steve said.
“Of course, Captain,” JARVIS responded.
“I hope the illness you have isn’t life threatening,” Steve sighed.
“Doesn’t everyone?” Tony replied. When the elevator doors opened, they were met with a reception desk, waiting chairs, and an opening in the wall leading to a hallway. Tony and Steve waited in line.
“Hi— Tony Stark!” The receptionist chirped. Tony hummed in response, and she clicked away on her computer. A couple seconds go by and she sets a piece of paper on the white counter. “Bring this with you when it’s your turn.”
Tony took the paper and he and Steve sat next to each other. He laid his head on his shoulder. He felt like coughing, but chose to instead hold it in, not wanting to draw attention to himself. The tv’s background noise provided a buzzing.
“Anthony Stark?” A guy wearing black scrubs calls him from the hallway. Tony stands up and hands him the paper that the receptionist gave him. The radiologist checks the paper and signals Tony to follow him. He grabbed a folded loose blue shirt, and they headed to a changing room. “I just need you to take your upper clothes off, and put this on. Once you're done you can go inside that room.” He pointed to the room in front of the changing room, placing the pile on a bench next to the changing room.
Tony took the clothes and walked into the small room, closing the sliding door and hearing the magnetic click in place. He looked around. A wooden shelf, hooks, and a mirror fastened to the wall reflecting his face, Tony could see the eye bags under his eyes. He started to take off his dark red hoodie, and replaced it with a loose blue shirt. Tony opened the sliding door, the magnet unclicking, with his hoodie clenched in his left hand. The door was ajar, Tony stepped into the room. The radiologist briskly walked towards him from the radiation barrier.
“You can put your clothes over there,” he nodded to the imaging table next to him “can you stand right where the feet placements are?” The radiologist said, and Tony followed his instructions. He tossed his clothes, then facing centimetres away from a white rectangle. “Good. To the right.” Tony turned to his side and looked straight ahead staring into a black dot. “Yep, you’re all set. I’ll send the scans over to Dr. Strange, and he’ll tell ya the results.”
“Thanks.” Tony took his hoodie, and walked out of the room and back into the changing room. He put his hoodie back on, and dumped the blue shirt into the laundry chute. He went back to the lobby, and Steve saw him and walked over to his husband.
“Hey, how did it go,” Steve asked him.
Tony shrugged. “The radiologist said that the scans are gonna be sent to Stephen, so it might take a while to get back what I have.” He put his head on his husband’s shoulder. Steve nodded, and placed an arm around Tony’s shoulder.
“We should get back to the main floor, and you can get some rest, hm?” Steve asked him, while Tony hummed in agreement. “Thank you” Steve gestured to the receptionist. She looked up from her computer and smiled in response.
They walked over to the elevator, and the elevator sprung up. Steve and Tony walked inside, and JARVIS led them up to the Avengers Common Room. Once the door clicked open, Tony practically jumped onto the couch, repositioning himself so that he was laying down, his head on top of the cheese pizza-shaped pillow Natasha gifted to Clint last year. He could hear a quiet background noise like the sound of a detective series on the tv that Clint was obsessed with, the dishwasher in motion next to it was Bucky waiting for his arm to be washed, and the air conditioner blowing cool air at a steady speed.
Suddenly, he was being lifted by a pair of strong arms. “Uh uh,” Steve stated, as he headed down the hallway and into the sleeping areas. He passes by a couple rooms labelled with the designated Avengers’ name, until he sees the one labelled “Steve, Bucky, & Tony”. Steve presses his thumb onto the finger scanner, and opens the door. He placed Tony down onto the large bed, and covered him with a blanket. “If you need anything you can call JARVIS to let us know, hm?”
“Yeah.”
Steve gave him a sympathetic smile, and he stood up from their bed to dim the lights. He closed the door, hoping that whatever Tony has, he’ll push through it.