Imagine If You Assembled the Avengers: Volume 1

The Walking Dead (Tony Stark x reader)

"What the hell is that? It sounds like someone's choking a seal."

"We think Stark may be dying," Clint snickered, "We're not sure yet, but there've been unnatural sounds coming out of that lab all day."

You peeked your head out the kitchen to look towards the lab, but the room was darkened so that you could just barely make out Tony's silhouette hunched over the table. "Has anyone gone up there to check on him?"

"Be our guest," he said, throwing a box of Kleenex at you as you exited. "but if you let loose whatever bug is incubating in there, and the dead start walking the Earth, I'm using you as a shield."

"Your empathy is truly inspiring, Barton."

~~~

"Tony?" You waited a few seconds, but there was no reply. "Tony? I know you're in there. Can I come in?"

A loud and harsh cough echoed through the room on the other side of the door, followed by the sound of feet being dragged towards you. The door opened slightly so that Tony could see you, but not so much that you could enter.

"What, (Y/N)?"

"Are you okay? You sound terrible, and I'm a little worried."

He coughed a few more times and turned to shut the door, but you pushed your foot in front of it to stop him. "Hey, I'm fine, alright? Now take your foot off the door so I can get back to work."

You reached up and put your hand on his forehead, shaking your head in frustration at what you felt. "Tony, seriously, you have a fever. You should be in bed, resting. What is so important that it can't wait a couple of days?"

"It's a revision of...I'm altering..." he shook his head and rubbed his cheek, irritated at being sick and even more so that you weren't listening. "I'm thinking it's not your concern." He coughed again, but this time it was harsh enough to make him struggle to catch his breath.

"Alright, sit down, dammit." You pushed him back into a nearby chair and put the palm of your hand against the center of his chest. You could feel his lungs expanding and contracting with each breath beneath your hand, his effort easing and his cough subsiding as you concentrated your healing powers on him.

"I didn't ask you to do that."

You pulled your hand back and stared at him skeptically; was he really going to be too proud to accept help? Or was it just stubbornness, or more likely, overblown ego? "I know you didn't ask, Tony. But we can't listen to you like that anymore. If you can't take care of yourself, then I'm happy to step in."

"Tell you what," he continued, "next time wait until I ask. Now let me get back to work, alright mom?"

Your head snapped in his direction, and your posture stiffened, "excuse me?"

"I said," he stepped up toe-to toe with you, puffing his chest with attitude, "alright, mom?"

Your eyes narrowed as you stared at him, disbelieving that he was having such a temper tantrum over this. If anything, you had made it easier for him to work now, but it would be impossible to get a thank you from him with all of this attitude oozing out of him.

"You're such an asshole, Stark." You turned on your heel and walked away, but you felt his eyes follow you until you were out of sight. He sighed and threw the tool he had been holding across the room, shattering a table full of equipment in his anger.

"Sir, how might I be of assistance?"

"JARVIS, I think...I think maybe we should shut it down for the night."

~~~

The next morning you wanted nothing to do with Tony, and did your best to avoid him, even heading to the kitchen late for breakfast, hoping he would have himself locked away in the lab. You were trying to give him the benefit of the doubt that his rotten attitude was because he was sick, so it was probably best to let him be.

"Morning, (Y/N), you're a little late today, aren't you?"

"Hey, Cap," you said with a small yawn, "yeah, trying to avoid any early morning conflicts, if you know what I mean."

Steve handed you a cup of orange juice and you returned the gesture with a look of curiosity. "Are we out of coffee again?" This was not the best day to miss out on your shot of caffeine. "Wait, was it my turn...yep, it was my turn to pick that up. Sorry, I'll run out and get extra to make up for it." You pulled the refrigerator open and grabbed a can of Coke, taking it down within a matter of minutes.

"Desperate?" Steve said with a laugh as he leaned against the counter, watching you.

"I didn't sleep well last night, so yeah. Just a bit." You tossed the empty can to him, giggling as he caught it and crushed it with an exuberant flair of unnecessary strength.

"Morning, kids."

The jovial moment was quickly over when Tony entered the room, your demeanor changing to guarded with lightening speed. "Stark."

Steve looked at you, mouthing silently to you, "I'm gonna go" and pointing towards the exit. You shook your head to try to stop him, but he obviously wanted to get out of the situation as fast as possible. "Chicken," you mumbled under your breath.

"You look like hell, Tony. I know it's none of my business, but just saying. Don't get us sick." You grabbed another can of soda and were about to leave when he finally replied.

"I'm sorry about yesterday. I'm sorry I called you mom." He cleared his throat a bit, his voice quiet and refusing to look at you. "You're right, I'm an asshole."

You were still mad, and you didn't want to let him off the hook that easily. His bad behavior needed to be called out, and you felt a personal responsibility to be the one to do it. You were playing with fire, but you didn't realize how hot it was going to get. "I accept your apology, Tony, but you do this all the time. You fly off the handle then ask for forgiveness later. It's exhausting."

"But it's because-"

"Don't give me the excuse that you're sick." You raised your hand to stop him, "people get sick all the time and it doesn't excuse bad behavior."

"If you'd shut up for just a damn minute, I would be able to explain it to you." He finally turned to look at you, and his face was becoming more red with each word.

You slammed your soda can on the counter and marched over to him, poking his arm roughly with each word. "If I would shut up for a minute? You seem to have underestimated me, Tony. Don't mistake my tendency to care about you...about this team, as a weakness." You grabbed his wrist and twisted his arm behind his back, spinning him to push him face first into the wall. "And don't ever, ever, talk to me like that."

"Hot," he mumbled, breaking your grip on his wrist and spinning you to take his place against the wall, facing him as he held your arm securely behind you. "Like I was saying, (Y/N), if you would let me finish, I would have told you that I'm a mess. Not because I was sick, but because I've fallen in love with you and I don't know what to do about it."

"Oh," you sighed, completely taken aback.

"Yeah, oh," he said breathlessly, reacting to the close proximity to you. "Is there anything else you'd like to say before I continue?"

"Continue? Continue with wha-" Your words were interrupted by his kiss, still holding you tightly against the wall with an almost crushing force. The moment was interrupted by the sound of a slap and the clearing of a throat.

Clint and Natasha were standing in the doorway, Nat holding a crisp, new twenty-dollar bill. "Dammit, (Y/N), I thought you'd break first," Clint scoffed. "Guess we're all learning to not underestimate you today."