My short fics never end up as short as I want. Hope you enjoy, anyway! Some vomiting and IVs being put in. I hope you don't mind.
Foul Illnesses
Bruce woke up and, as was wont to happen, had no fucking clue where he was or what the fuck was happening. He had flashes of memory, surges of indescribable rage in pictures tinted red and green, and shouted, angry thoughts.
“SHINY METAL MAN FALL. HULK FIND SHINY METAL MAN.”
It looked like Hulk had. Shiny Metal Man was nearby, lying on his back in the middle of what looked like a forest. There were trees knocked over all around them--The Other Guys work, Bruce guessed. Bruce vaguely remembered something about Costa Rica, and that seemed to suit the terrain. He crawled over to Tony, tying the remnants of his pants around his waist to cover up a bit.
Tony looked to have crash landed. His suit was banged up, and his visor was completely gone, exposing his face. He looked relatively intact, however, except for the white pallor of his skin, and the sweat pouring out of him.
“Jarvis, you okay in there?” Bruce asked.
“I am operating at 86% capacity,” Jarvis replied, his voice echoing out of the inside of the helmet. “I do not have control of the thrusters.”
“I don't think we need them, don't worry about it,” Bruce said.
“I am not,” Jarvis replied, primly.
“What happened?” Bruce asked. His hands kept moving, instictively trying to examine Tony and futilely banging against the metal of his suit.
“Mr. Stark lost consciousness, and I was unable to stabilize him,” Jarvis reported.
Bruce put his hand to Tony's forehead, the only part of him he had access to. “God, he's burning up,” he said. “Can I get some vitals, please?”
Jarvis rattled off statistics about Tony's heart rate, respiratory rate, and temperature. They were all elevated, the first two within acceptable ranges, the last to an alarming degree. No pun intended.
“Was he feeling sick before he left?” Bruce asked.
“Yes,” Jarvis said. “I suggested he may want to sit out, but he was determined.”
“Typical,” Bruce said. “Are you able to reach the team?”
“They are out of range,” Jarvis said.
“Okay,” Bruce said. “Divert non-essential systems to boosting the signal and send out an SOS. Use power from the weapons systems, if you need to. Keep the air conditioning going, we need to cool him down.”
“Yes, sir,” Jarvis said.
Bruce slapped at Tony's cheeks a little, for want of a better way to wake him up. It was hard to shake a man in a metal suit. It would be best to get him out of it, but that was impossible without special tools. They really should put more time into inventing a portable kit. Tony stirred and opened his eyes.
“I'm going to throw up,” he announced, matter-of-factly.
Turning a man in a metal suit to avoid him choking on his vomit was not an easy task, but Bruce managed it. Tony threw up violently.
“So, I guess you caught what Thor had last week,” Bruce said.
“I need to apologize, I teased him for being a wimp,” Tony muttered. “This is hell. There is an alien in my stomach. I want to die.”
“You nearly did,” Bruce said. “Ever heard of a sick day?”
Tony glared at him, hazily. “I thought the whole robot invasion thing was more important,” he said. “Did we win, by the way?” His eyes rolled around. “Where are we?”
“No idea, on both counts,” Bruce said.
Tony's eyes lost focus. Bruce turned him again. Tony threw up again. Bruce decided to leave him on his side.
“I'm sorry,” Tony said. “This isn't dignified. I don't want you to think less of me.”
“You've seen me in a cocktail dress,” Bruce said, with a smile. “I don't think there's any dignity left in our friendship.”
“That was a good look on you,” Tony said. “I mean, I know it was because of the whole naked thing, but if you ever wanted to pursue it as a like, style, I think you could pull it off.”
Part the First
Bruce woke up and, as was wont to happen, had no fucking clue where he was or what the fuck was happening. He had flashes of memory, surges of indescribable rage in pictures tinted red and green, and shouted, angry thoughts.
“SHINY METAL MAN FALL. HULK FIND SHINY METAL MAN.”
It looked like Hulk had. Shiny Metal Man was nearby, lying on his back in the middle of what looked like a forest. There were trees knocked over all around them--The Other Guys work, Bruce guessed. Bruce vaguely remembered something about Costa Rica, and that seemed to suit the terrain. He crawled over to Tony, tying the remnants of his pants around his waist to cover up a bit.
Tony looked to have crash landed. His suit was banged up, and his visor was completely gone, exposing his face. He looked relatively intact, however, except for the white pallor of his skin, and the sweat pouring out of him.
“Jarvis, you okay in there?” Bruce asked.
“I am operating at 86% capacity,” Jarvis replied, his voice echoing out of the inside of the helmet. “I do not have control of the thrusters.”
“I don't think we need them, don't worry about it,” Bruce said.
“I am not,” Jarvis replied, primly.
“What happened?” Bruce asked. His hands kept moving, instictively trying to examine Tony and futilely banging against the metal of his suit.
“Mr. Stark lost consciousness, and I was unable to stabilize him,” Jarvis reported.
Bruce put his hand to Tony's forehead, the only part of him he had access to. “God, he's burning up,” he said. “Can I get some vitals, please?”
Jarvis rattled off statistics about Tony's heart rate, respiratory rate, and temperature. They were all elevated, the first two within acceptable ranges, the last to an alarming degree. No pun intended.
“Was he feeling sick before he left?” Bruce asked.
“Yes,” Jarvis said. “I suggested he may want to sit out, but he was determined.”
“Typical,” Bruce said. “Are you able to reach the team?”
“They are out of range,” Jarvis said.
“Okay,” Bruce said. “Divert non-essential systems to boosting the signal and send out an SOS. Use power from the weapons systems, if you need to. Keep the air conditioning going, we need to cool him down.”
“Yes, sir,” Jarvis said.
Bruce slapped at Tony's cheeks a little, for want of a better way to wake him up. It was hard to shake a man in a metal suit. It would be best to get him out of it, but that was impossible without special tools. They really should put more time into inventing a portable kit. Tony stirred and opened his eyes.
“I'm going to throw up,” he announced, matter-of-factly.
Turning a man in a metal suit to avoid him choking on his vomit was not an easy task, but Bruce managed it. Tony threw up violently.
“So, I guess you caught what Thor had last week,” Bruce said.
“I need to apologize, I teased him for being a wimp,” Tony muttered. “This is hell. There is an alien in my stomach. I want to die.”
“You nearly did,” Bruce said. “Ever heard of a sick day?”
Tony glared at him, hazily. “I thought the whole robot invasion thing was more important,” he said. “Did we win, by the way?” His eyes rolled around. “Where are we?”
“No idea, on both counts,” Bruce said.
Tony's eyes lost focus. Bruce turned him again. Tony threw up again. Bruce decided to leave him on his side.
“I'm sorry,” Tony said. “This isn't dignified. I don't want you to think less of me.”
“You've seen me in a cocktail dress,” Bruce said, with a smile. “I don't think there's any dignity left in our friendship.”
“That was a good look on you,” Tony said. “I mean, I know it was because of the whole naked thing, but if you ever wanted to pursue it as a like, style, I think you could pull it off.”
Bruce rolled his eyes. “Thanks.”