sixthiterationlogs | [MINGLE] Worried/Sick 1: Symptoms Manifest & Reaction

[MINGLE] Worried/Sick 1: Symptoms Manifest & Reaction

WHERE: Anywhere; multiple locations
WHEN: Apx. 13-18 November
OPEN TO: ALL - MINGLE
WARNINGS: Serious illness and reactions to such

IMPORTANT NOTES: This is the first of two mingles. Please see the timing and general event details here.

Illness Presents and Putting Heads Together will have their own top-levels in this post, but you may make separate top-levels for whatever you like! Anything is welcome, as long as it tangentially relates to the Worried/Sick plot.

Please keep in mind the established plot details, but creative license is welcome and encouraged as long as it doesn't step on toes.

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Oh. Bruce? Bruce is here. He should say something comforting and shit but he's more than a little exhausted and, well. The tree can hold him up for a little bit. Just a little longer- but his weight shifts or his feet glide and he's slumping into Bruce like a chump, how dare the tree not hold up it's half of the bargain (or him, seriously, you had one job tree). He shifts to slump against Bruce's shoulder, breathing. Tea and skin and ink, very Bruce smells that make him think of home where and when he still has Jarvis and the world hasn't fallen apart.

He liked that time, that was a nice time, could they get that back? It'd save him about a million migraines.

"I am not going anywhere." His words trip out slowly, syrup in January, languid and sticking together till they tumble out in semi-sensical gobs of syllables. "I'm good? It's good. We're good."

Until Bruce tries to get them up and that? "Nnnh. We gotta? Really? I was- fine over...there. I think. I might've been fine? Mostly fine."

Bruce so far hasn't really considered the potential risk of dying in this situation. Yes there's always risk, but so far they have time to pinpoint what's going on. Some flus or colds can get taken care of with time. But now he's more concerned, and he's aware it's because of his high-level anxiety surrounding Tony's health. He breathes through it. He has to get his calm back. For Tony and the others. He can do this.

"We're good," he confirms, sounding like he believes it. "You will be fine, but we have a set up at the hospital for now. It'll just take some time to get to the source, we'll figure it out. But you need to lie down." Bruce puts a hand to his forehead to judge the fever, but he already knows how bad it is. They don't have anything really to check at the moment, but he can read it fairly well.

Bruce gets Tony into the hospital and sits him down, getting a quick look close to see his eyes. "Listen." He affectionately cups his friend's face, grounding him. "The symptoms eventually involve hallucinations so remember we're here if you can."

"S'just the flu, right? Upper respiratory stuff always fucks me over." He mumbles, leaning into Bruce's touch, eyes slipping closed. Keeping them open right now is just- it feels, it seems impossible? Tony's sagging more than he's holding himself upright, one hand slipping up to cling to Bruce's wrist. There's a pulse fluttering under his thumb and that's proof enough.

That he's here.

That they're in the village, not lost in space. Trapped in a cave or on Titan or in a Bunker- thinking of the last one sends a shudder through him. "This is usually the point when Rhodey or Pep kicks me to the ER."

"I ---" This is the hard part for Bruce. "I don't know what it is yet. But it's not a normal sickness." Not something they can all just sleep and have a lot of water and get better on their own. Bruce and Beverly are much more honest with one another about where they could all lead, and he isn't going to spread that potential to anyone else. Not even Tony. Especially not Tony.

"This is our version of the ER." He smiles faintly, and knows how tragic that is considering this place has very little. "I've worked with less." That at least is true. Bruce dealt with illnesses and injuries in places where he had no medicine at all. "Here, have a little of this." He's been keeping a close hold on the peaches for now, since they are going to need stashes for later perhaps, but he's going to give Tony a little now so Bruce can stay sane. He'd probably give him all of the peaches in the village in a panic if he starts fading away.

He holds Tony's hand, wishing he could just keep doing that during this process so he has something to ground him. "It's going to be okay, Dr. Crusher is a medical expert from the future, she knows more than any doctor on our earth."

"Oh. Fun." He blinks blearily at Bruce, trying to focus. His thoughts coil and slip like ribbons of jello, straining and snapping, disconnected and discontent. All he knows for certain is that Bruce is here and he probably doesn't have the reactor. No light. Weight and irregular heartbeat, yes. LIght? No.

So. IF he did, he'd be dying.

But he doesn't.

So he isn't.

He thinks. Maybe he's wrong? This isn't his science. The slices of preserved peach are the first real bit of flavor he's managed to notice since he started coughing- sweet and syrupy and that same warm tingle he got out of the hotsprings. "So. Running the numbers- keeping in mind my fucked up torso- odds of me coughing out a lung?"

Bruce tries not to think too much about how dangerous Tony having his reactor here would be in general. There are many ways that would regularly put his life at risk, without superior technology and situations like this. He's so thankful that was done, for a variety of reasons. Tony's not that far gone yet, which he doesn't mention because it means he only has down to go from there, and Bruce doesn't want to freak either of them out.

Of course Tony goes right to the real concern, and Bruce's stomach feels like it's knotted not anxiety enough to make him sick. "I don't think it's the coughing that will be the problem in the end." It's not a helpful thing to say, since it's far from reassuring. "The fever is what I'm concerned with." He doesn't sugar coat things for Tony if he can help it. If the fevers continue to this high level for days on end it could potentially cause permanent damage if not actual death. There's so many bad pathways he can go down.

"I'm not going to let anything happen to you." That is a promise he intends to keep. He can't believe otherwise. Bruce kisses the top of his head gently.

"Right. Cook my brain." A beat, an exhausted laugh as he sags into Bruce's chest. "Know what? I think I miss the palladium. That hurt but it didn't threaten brain damage."

Aside from the kind that would kill him. Still. Bruce knows how to handle this shit, Tony's in good hands. The best hands. The list of people he'd trust with his health in this village is pretty short. Two name short. Bruce- and Liv. As long as he's helping out, as Bruce is researching- he's pretty sure he'll survive. Eighty percent sure. And that math's better than most he'd put down.

"I know." He murmurs, nuzzling into Bruce's shoulder. "Getting a moon thrown at me didn't kill me. Pretty sure I'll survive this."

"Yes, but we have the spring water, possibly more of these peaches although we have to be careful spreading them. We'll stave off the fever until we get a cure." And he is confident they will get one of those. Bruce puts his arms around Tony and drops his chin down to the top of his head, closing his eyes. Holding him close. He is not losing him again, not for any reason.

Bruce chuckles weakly. "What's a cough and fever compared to a moon?" It would be just their luck if a common illness did what an alien psychopath couldn't. "You have to keep hydrated." Dehydration was a major danger with how much people were sweating from the fever burn. Bruce will have to get his hands off Tony in able to get water, and he doesn't plan on doing that just yet. Soon. Maybe. "Remember what a stubborn person you can be." Losing heart and giving up would be easy ways to let the illness win out.

"M'not going anywhere. Not dissolving. Not dying. Promise." Like that'll keep him from keeling over if (when) the fever takes a turn for the worse. Bruce worries too much about- everything. All the time. Giving him a little room to breathe shouldn't be difficult but-

Tony presses a hand to his chest, turning to cough into his own shoulder. Trying to keep from getting germs on Bruce though, honestly? He's probably infected too by this point. Overexposure to the bacteria or virus.

"Not leaving you. Pretty sure you'd get all sad if I died, make the face. Can't stand the face." The pinch of Bruce's brows, the way his eyes go dark and wounded- it sticks in Tony's ribs. He'd hate to think he'd make him make the face.

Tony can't promise that but Bruce needs desperately to believe him. Tony was his center point, no matter what, and he tried so hard to be one of those for Tony too. He wants to keep this two ways. They give and take from each other. He needs to be here and alive to keep that going. This isn't about you, this is about him.

He knows he is likely already infected. With how close he is to the virus and the people breathing on him, it's a countdown to when, not if. Bruce no longer has the Hulk to shield him. What he has to do is keep with it long enough to fix this. He does take a step back when Tony coughs, but not because of him breathing on him, but because he'll need to the space to get the air back into his lungs. Bruce's clinging to him doesn't help that.

"I would never make a different type of face again. That would permanently be my face." Bruce would lose his mind for sure. He needs that mind. He needs Tony Stark. He leaves for a moment just to get Tony that water and comes back, putting it in his hand. "I love you." He's said it a few times now, mostly because he is positive Tony doesn't hear it a lot, and also Bruce himself rarely gets to say it or express himself. But he does. "Spend some time talking to the others when they come in. You might be able to check in on each other if you're hallucinating and ground yourself."

"Noooooooooo." Tony mumbles, quiet and petulant, trailing off into a subaudible whine. He reaches up to poke at Bruce's cheeks like he can force him into smiling if he tries hard enough. "Not the face. You'll make everyone sad if you make the face. I'll haunt you if you promise not to make the face."

Holding onto the cup takes most of his focus. Feverish and floaty like this- the walls are down. The knee jerk flinch and tension is completely absent. shoulders slumped he sips, eyes drifting shut as he tries to breathe again. It's wet, thick in his chest and his heart- god- his heartbeat feels so slow. "Love you, Gummibear."

It's soft like a secret, but he says it. He means it. "Really I'd rather sleep through this. Wake up feeling better. But that's never been my luck."

"I will only make the face if you leave me, Tony. So you can't do that." He meant in death of course. Neither of them can control what happens here in terms of coming or going. Bruce has to keep his shit together, but in some ways, this gives him better incentive to move quickly and purposefully. He would have done that anyway, to save people, but with Tony on the line the fear and importance rackets up significantly.

Bruce knows that Tony cares for him, and he suspected already that deep emotion between them was equal, but it still means something, to be told that. He hasn't heard it much in his life, and he'll treasure it. Even if it's said in fever. That's fine. He strokes a hand through Tony's hair, and leans his head into it, breathing him in. You have to save him. Their physical connection is all kinds of intimate, and he doesn't feel bad about it in the least.

"I don't know if there's anything we can use to help you sleep, but I'll find it if there is. There's herbs I don't know, but people are here who do." Beverly might have recommended it already if she thought of it, but he'll check anyway. "I'm not so sure sleeping through this is good though." Fever this high, people awake meant they were still alive. "I'm sorry, just hang in there. Lie down. I'll come back regularly so you won't be alone."

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[MINGLE] Worried/Sick 1: Symptoms Manifest & Reaction

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