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It was a normal occurrence during the winter months to have strands of the common cold floating around the Avengers tower. Typically, it was only Barton that was affected due to his tendency of being injured so frequently, making him more susceptible to illness, but there were times that the were affected. Everyone was affected at times excluding Steve due to the serum, which caused his immune system to fight illnesses off so quickly that he never even experiences the slightest of symptoms.
Due to this knowledge, it surprised no one when Clint stumbled into the kitchen, eyes squinting against the harsh lights, a blanket tucked over his shoulders like a cape. His nose was a fiery red, offsetting the pale hue of the rest of his skin. He slumped over to the island and took a seat.
“Sick again Barton?” Tony asked, a playful glint in his eye as he sipped his coffee.
“What do you think?” Clint growled, glaring at Tony with bloodshot eyes. Steve set a plate with eggs and toast in front of him, along with some cold medicine. Clint grumbled his thanks, Steve giving him a courteous nod in response. Tony went to pick at the bacon while Steve was distracted, but got his hand slapped away by the soldier before he was shooed out of the way.
Bruce and Natasha strolled into the kitchen, pausing for a moment when they saw the state Clint was in, and chose seats on either side of the archer. Steve set plates down in front of them, Bruce studying Clint in between bites.
“So, when did this start?” Bruce finally asked after taking a long sip of his tea.
Clint thought for a moment before responding. “Last night.”
“Did you sleep at all?” Natasha asked, noticing the large bags under her partner’s eyes.
“Not really.” Clint admitted, “I would start to fall asleep but then I would need to blow my nose or would sneeze again.”
“Did you take any medication?” Bruce inquired.
“No, it was too far away.” Clint groaned, reaching his hand out dramatically and grasping the air. Tony snickered as Natasha rolled her eyes. Steve looked at the archer skeptically. Bruce sighed and took off his glasses, closing his eyes as he rubbed the bridge of his nose.
“You should take the meds and get some sleep.” Bruce recommended, opening his eyes and putting his glasses back on. “If you’ll excuse me.” Bruce got up from his seat, leaving his half-eaten plate behind. He left the kitchen and headed to the elevator. The others dispersed one by one, leaving Steve behind to clean up.
Clint did as he was told and got some rest. He recovered quickly, feeling much better in just a matter of hours. The cold made its way around the tower, Natasha getting it next. She recovered quickly just as Clint had. Bruce received it after her, taking a little bit longer to heal because of his complex immune system but still recovering quite quickly. Even Thor managed to get it on one of his visits but was better in a matter of minutes with one of his Asgardian remedies.
By the time it got around to Tony, everyone excluding Steve had already had the cold and gotten over it fairly fast. But none of them had an arc reactor in their chest taking up valuable space. Every cough rattled his restricted chest, leaving him gasping for air. Tony stumbled down to the kitchen, feeling like crap. His throat was sore from coughing and his lungs felt as though he had just run a marathon. On top of that, he could feel his temperature was just the slightest bit too high
He took a seat at the island, not acknowledging anything going on in the room around him. Clint, who was sitting two seats down, looked up from the newspaper he was reading. He took in the engineers disheveled appearance, along with his bright red nose, pale skin, and large purple bags under his eyes.
“Finally get the cold Stark?” He asked tauntingly.
“Shove off Barton.” Tony grunted. His voice caught on the last word, sending his lungs into a frenzy of coughing. When he finally stopped, he noticed that Bruce and Natasha had sat down on either side of him.
“You too?” Bruce asked in greeting, putting bacon from the platter onto his plate. Tony nodded before placing his forehead onto the countertop in front of him. The coolness of the marble felt amazing against his head, but it was interrupted by a tapping on his shoulder. He sat up and glared in the direction of the disturbance.
“You ok?” Natasha asked him, looking him over. Tony grunted in response, taking a sip of the coffee Steve had placed in front of him. It tickled his throat, sending him into another painful coughing fit.
“Quit being so dramatic Stark, we all had the cold too.” Clint snipped before getting up and heading off towards his room. Tony glared in his direction before retreating to his own room to get some rest, as Bruce had recommended.
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Tony awoke a few hours later feeling worse than he had when he went to sleep. His head pounded faintly, a result of the fever that was clearly overtaking his body. It hurt for him to breathe, each breath feeling as if it was going to get caught in his throat.
He looked around for what woke him up, his brain settling on a sound that could only mean one thing. Avengers Assemble.
Tony got up, not bothering to change out of the sweatpants and t-shirt he had been just been sleeping in. He ran to the elevator, triggering another coughing fit. By the time he made it to his lab he had had to stop 3 times to cough. Even Tony, the person who didn’t understand why sick days were a thing, knew that this wasn’t going to work.
“Jarvis, call Steve.” He requested, his voice weak from strain.
“Tony?” Steve said, skipping greetings.
“Cap, I don’t think I can make it.” Tony said, trying to make his voice sound normal.
“And why would that be?” Steve asked, his voice skeptical.
“I really don’t feel great.” Tony admitted, his voice catching again, sending him into yet another coughing fit.
“Tony, everyone else had the same cold and they were well enough to work. Get yourself together and get over here.” Steve told him, ending the call.
Tony stood, taken aback by what had just happened. Steve was right, the rest of the team had gotten over it quickly and was relatively well enough to work. But none of them had a metal canister in their chest taking up some of their lung capacity. Tony shook his head, shaking away his thoughts, and climbed into his suit. If this was the way they wanted it, this it the way it was going to be, no matter how shitty he felt.
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Tony spent the next few days treating himself. He took the medication regularly but was careful not to display his symptoms.
Finally, his body had decided it had had enough and threw everything on him, full force. His chest felt like it was on fire, screaming in pain with every breath. He couldn’t seem to get enough air in, each breath so shallow from his inflamed throat. His head pounded from what was most likely a fever. His nose burned from using so many tissues.
By the time he made his way into the kitchen, everyone was already there. “Look who’s finally joining us.” Clint said, as Tony walked in. Everyone looked up at him, their faces morphing into almost identical expressions of concern.
“Tony are you ok?” Steve asked, setting down the spatula he was holding.
“I’m- “Tony began as a cough wracked his body. His vision wavered as he coughed, his brain not receiving enough air. He could feel his limbs liquefy as he fell to the floor. He hit his head hard on the tiles, his vision drifting into darkness as his body was lifted by big hands.
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When Tony came to he was in the Medbay surrounded by the mechanical hum of machines. He opened his eyes slowly to see the rest of the Avengers huddled around his bed. As they noticed he was awake they all gathered around him, looking at him sympathetically.
“What- “Tony started, although it was more of a question in itself.
“Your cold morphed into pneumonia because of your decreased lung capacity.” Bruce explained, grabbing a clipboard by his bed and recording some numbers. “This could have been avoided if you hadn’t just tried to treat it yourself.”
“This is my fault.” Clint whispered. Tony turned his attention to the archer, who blushed. “I’m the one that accused you of being dramatic.”
“And I told you to suck it up.” Steve added, sounding ashamed.
Tony looked at the two men for a moment before speaking. “I’m the one who didn’t do anything when I knew it was worse than it should have been. I am the only one to blame here for what happened to me.”
“But- “Steve protested.
“No buts capscicle.” Tony said, grinning slightly. “But if you are feeling guilty, I wouldn’t mind some of that amazing soup you made Clint when he was sick that I wasn’t supposed to have but had anyways.”
Natasha rolled her eyes but smiled afterwards, Clint snickered. Bruce cracked a smile, while Steve shook his head disappointed but still smiling.
“Fine but let’s not do this again.” Steve said, motioning at Tony and the bed in front of him.
“Deal.” Tony agreed wholeheartedly.