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cricket-reader · 1 year

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The Smell of Alcohol and Cologne

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Summary: Tony Stark’s assistant has a flashback and finds comfort in Tony’s arms.

Warnings: Past abuse, hints of SA, MC almost jumps off the tower, mention of a dead mother, fluff, it’s kinda dumb, pining, self-deprecating thoughts, self-blame

Word Count: 3,000

Looking at his assistant Tony takes his time to look at each and every feature. Sure, he stares a lot, but she’s always too oblivious to notice. It’s kinda cute—but at the same time, irritating.

He’s never been able to really stare from this close a distance. She just usually would make some excuse of how she has to do one thing or another.

Her long dark lashes lie gently on her cheeks that are slightly pink, being warm from the blanket and the fireplace. Her freckles are more prominent up close and he can see her perfectly plucked eyebrows. How she manages to keep up her perfect appearance is beyond him.

Despite her shy nature, they have grown closer—helped mainly by his personality. He’s glad for that.

Noting that she probably isn’t going to wake soon, and that she usually doesn’t get much sleep, Tony decides to take her to bed. He only knows that because he asked Jarvis if she was still up one night; when he asked why she was, Jarvis said that she usually never gets much sleep.

Trying to be as careful, quiet, and gentle as possible, Tony lifts her small body, bringing it to his room—since hers is not finished being painted.

She only gains half her consciousness when she is picked up. In her stupor, she smells the light scent of cologne and alcohol and knows she is being carried somewhere by a man. She’s had night terrors like this before, but this felt too real.

It was strange though; the cologne wasn’t the same. Sometimes she had flashbacks in which she could faintly smell the cologne and alcohol, but it isn’t the same as it is now.

Tony notices her body stiffen and her laboured breathing which makes him concerned.

She feels as though she might just get sick.

When Tony began to lower her onto his bed, she freaked. Gently lowering the beauty onto his bed, he covers her with the duvet and looks at her with admiration.

Adrenaline sent her flying up from her lying position on Tony’s bed. Confusion warps her brain. This can’t be real, she thinks.

Tony sees her wide eyes and immediately wants to comfort her, but as he draws closer, she screws her eyes shut, scrambling to the other side of the bed and curling into a ball. This, of course, shocks him. He didn’t understand what was going on; he has never seen her like this.

He faintly hears her mumbling to herself, and when he strains to listen in, he hears her words.

“It’s not real,” plays on repeat. Almost as if she is trying to convince herself—which she is.

Tony gently calls out her name. Her whole body freezes when he gently rests his hands on her arm. This can’t be happening, not again. Tears stream down her face. She thought Tony was one of the good men. Turns out he’s just the same as him.

Deciding she doesn’t want a similar cycle to repeat, she will fight back until he really hurts her—perhaps with a whip like he did.

Tony blinks when she slaps his arm away. She has never so much as shown any reaction similar to this. Even when he noticed that people were clearly bothering her, she kept her cool. He knows this because he often thinks that should he be in that situation, he would slap the person silly.

This is why his concern deepens, almost to a point that is too far. Something is wrong. Something is very wrong. What is it? He has not a clue.

He calls out her name as if trying again, softer this time. She tightens her hold on herself shaking her head as if to clear the situation from her mind; however, she, deep down, knows that it won’t work. It’s too real not to be.

Shifting on the bed so he can get a better stance, she flies up out of the bed. Startled, a wide-eyed Tony jumps up as well.

Now she is for certain; this is real. This is happening. Racing out of the room, Tony panics and does the only thing his brain can think of doing. Being a stressful situation, adrenaline was high in both the individuals for different reasons. If you are not aware, in a state such as this, the brain may sometimes make irrational decisions. With that in mind, Tony chases after the woman not entirely thinking the situation through.

She hears his footsteps. He’s going to beat her. Pummel her into submission.

The door to the stairs bursts open. She flies up the stairs with Tony right behind her. After several floors they reach the top. Tony’s eyes widen as he realises what is about to take place if he doesn’t get ahold of her. He can’t have that. He won’t let that happen.

The door to the roof bursts open as she runs to the edge of the building—it’s not as if she’s suicidal, but this was the best option her mind could provide her. She’d rather die than have to suffer like that again.

Tony felt like he might cry out in relief when he was able to wrap his arms around her to prevent her from getting any further.

She thrashes around in his arms as one final attempt, proving itself futile. Gently cooing, trying to console her, he starts walking back into the tower with great difficulty. In there he will be able to let her go, he just can’t when their out on the roof. She sure as hell isn’t dying on his watch. Once they finally get in the building. He tells Friday to lock the door, cursing himself for not thinking of that sooner. If she would have succeeded right then and there, he would have been at fault.

Finally out of his arms, she stumbles before crashing into the tiled floor. Tony feels his heart break seeing how broken she looks. Squatting down to match her height, he carefully says her name.

Her head snaps up. The look of sheer terror upon her face is like a punch to Tony’s gut. Is she scared of him? She slowly begins to scoot away from him, her eyes still wide. His heart completely shatters and he feels nauseous; she is scared of him. No, terrified is more like it. He stands up, frowning with his brows furrowed with concern

“Please don’t… please, I’m sorry! Whatever I did wrong I can fix it! Please, I’m sorry! I’ll be good! I’ll be better! Please!” She sobs, with a certain sense of brokenness. This makes Tony freeze. Slowly he feels the anger creeping into his body once he processes her words.

It all makes sense now. He doesn’t know how he didn’t see it sooner. Obviously she must have been having a flashback. The thing that makes his stomach twist is his mind wondering what on Earth could elicit such a response.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” he says, slowly lowering himself so he doesn’t tower above her; certainly she’d be even more scared if he stayed like that.

She peeks up from her ball she curled herself into and sees that Tony is sitting on the cold tile, a nice space between the two of them—not too far and not too close.

“You were going to,” she mumbles, picking at her sleeves. His brows furrow in confusion. What did he do wrong?

“No I wasn’t,” he gently insists.

“Why else would you carry me to bed?”

One sentence.

Once sentence is all it took to destroy him. That along with her tear stained face as she looks down to her sleeves that she’s still picking at. He’s never seen anything as heartbreaking as this. His stomach churns as he thinks more and more of her words.

“Sweetheart… I, I never—it-it wasn’t like that,” he stutters, an underlying tone of pain evident in his voice.

“But you were carrying me to bed,” she persists, speaking softly as if not to anger him.

Should it be any other time, the expression on her face was adorable. Her brows furrowed, a small pout on her lips and her head tilted slightly to the right.

But Tony wasn’t thinking about that at the moment.

He was still trying to wrap his brain around the words she had just spoken to him. Never in his life would he have imagined anything like that coming from her lips.

She was always so happy and carefree, a sense of beautiful innocence with every movement. He doesn’t know how she could keep it up; he certainly doesn’t do it well. Locking himself up and not sleeping for days, looking like shit. He wonders how many times she has felt the way he has, but kept a smile on her face.

“I wanted you to sleep somewhere comfortable.”

Her frown deepens, “then why not leave me on the couch?”

“Because that’s not comfortable, I was going to take it instead,” he shrugs off the last sentence as if it were no big deal. Sure, it wasn’t much of a big deal to him, but to her? To her it was too good to be true. He couldn’t have let her sleep in his bed without wanting something in return. That’s not how it works.

“I would have taken you to yours, but they are still painting it,” he sheepishly rubs his neck. He hopes she doesn’t ask too many questions about that. It was supposed to be a surprise. He was going to have her spend the night in Natasha’s room since she was out on a mission with Wanda and Clint.

He sure as hell was not about to go in Natasha’s room. Though he will endlessly deny it, that woman terrified him. He knew that Natasha would be okay with her sleeping in her room though; he had asked prior, telling his plan to her and Clint. He was honestly kind of surprised she so willingly accepted. He would have thought it would take much convincing.

“Painted? What for?” Her expression grows worried and confused as she rushes to say, “I don’t recall ruining the walls.”

“You didn’t, I just thought a change would be nice,” he smiles. Doubt now enters his mind and he frowns, “unless of course you don’t think so.”

He mentally curses himself. For a genius, he can be kind of stupid some times, often rushing into things without truly thinking it through—take Ultron for example.

“So… you weren’t ..going to…”

“No, of course not,” he gently reassured her. She releases a breath and puts her head back on her knees.

Embarrassment flows through her. How stupid she believes herself to be. She made a fool of herself in front of her boss—of course he didn’t want anything like that from her! He’s Tony Stark for goodness sake! He can get women that are actually gorgeous—models really. He would have no use to use someone as ugly as her. She’s sure he has a line of women he could get any second.

“I’m sorry,” she mumbles, not lifting her head. She’s too embarrassed to even look at him.

“You have nothing to be sorry for, darling,” he assures her. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Darling.

Darling is what her mother use do to call her. She hasn’t been called that since the day she died. Tony didn’t even realise he let that slip. It just happened.

Her heart clenches and she looks up at him. Tears blur her vision. Tony hates seeing her like this. What he would do if only he could take all of that suffering away from her. She shakes her head as she looks down. Blinking, the tears fall down her face.

“What do you want now?” He questions, ready to get anything and everything she desires. “I can get you anything you want.”

He couldn’t give her what she wanted though. Money simply couldn’t buy it. What she wanted was for her mama to hold her whilst softly singing a lovely lullaby in the old rocking chair by the brick fireplace in the cosy kitchen. Holding her, and running her fingers through her hair.

She couldn’t ask him to hold her. She has already made a fool out of herself. She also believes that, should she ask, he would laugh in her face. Why on Earth would the great Tony Stark comfort some weak girl?

She shakes her head. Tony frowns before telling her if she changes her mind to just tell him or Friday. Not wanting to do absolutely nothing for her, he nervously asks, “would you like a hug?”

Now here’s the thing about Tony Stark. He wasn’t one to show his nervousness. He always acted like he was chill, arrogant, and sure of himself. He never got nervous around women; in fact, he was great in that department—except when it came to her.

Something about her drew him in. Not in the typical lust-filled way—no, in an emotional sort of relation. Sure, she was quite a sight to see, but he actually felt things for her. Not just physically.

For this reason, he is so anxious as he asks for the hug. Tony doesn’t think she will want one considering everything that has happened. He prepares to not take the hit so hard to his ego; however, he can’t help but think of how crushed he would be should she refuse. Sure, he didn’t mind it, but then he would look like a complete imbecile in front of her.

So when she nodded her head and reached her arms up for him, his ego practically shot into the stratosphere. He was elated that despite everything, she was entrusting him. She was trusting him. Him! He wasn’t one that cries over things, but this brought him close to crying in relief.

He walked over and sat down to give her what he assumed would be a quick hug. Instantly, she wrapped her arms around his neck and nuzzled her face into the crook of his neck. Taken a bit aback, he takes a few seconds before gaining back enough thought process to return the gesture. He wasn’t going to let go until she did, but he certainly expected it to be quick.

And that is why, ten minutes later, Tony Stark is sitting on the cold tile floor with a woman falling out of consciousness and into her slumber. He didn’t want to move, didn’t want to ruin the moment. Nor did he want to be the cause of another horrible memory. He already feels horrible enough. Because although it certainly wasn’t his fault—how could he have known?—he still blamed himself. One thing about Tony Stark is that he often blames himself when things go wrong. After all, that was usually the case with his father. Usually when things went wrong the blame was placed on him. So, it is only natural for him to continue that into his adulthood.

“Sweetheart? Can you open your eyes for me?” Tony asks, gently brushing some of the hair out of her face. She frowns and blearily blinks up at him. “Let’s get you somewhere more comfortable, yeah?”

She nods her head and stands up. They both walk down the stairs leading to the roof access. It takes them no time to reach the elevator.

“I’m assuming you’d probably want to sleep in Natasha’s room? She said it was okay.”

She lowers her gaze to the ground, worrying her lip in between her teeth. Being alone doesn’t sound like a good idea right now. She wants to be curled up in his arms so he can protect her. The shadows at night wouldn’t dare reach her if she had his strong body wrapped around her.

No. That's inappropriate. He’s her boss, and he would never want to do something like that. The only women he has in his bed with him are the women he has one-night stands with. And that isn’t something she wants.

“Is Natasha here?”

“No, she’s on a mission, so you’ll have the place all to yourself.” He says it like it’s a good thing. Frowning, she scuffs her foot on the ground. Tony practically melts when her pleading eyes look up at him.

“What if I don’t want to be alone?” She mutters, too embarrassed to say it any louder.

Tony’s heart skips a beat. He keeps his face neutral as he says, “well if you want you can sleep in my room. I’ve been told I’m great at cuddling.”

She giggles a little. What he’d give to hear that out of her more. “By who?”

He raises a brow, “why, jealous?”

She rolls her eyes and crosses her arms, “you wish.”

He smiles back at her. “I was just kidding anyways.”

“Sure,” she jests, not believing him. The elevator opens on his floor and they both walk out.

“No, I’m serious,” he pouts. “I’ve… I’ve never really had anyone to cuddle with.”

Her brows furrow. She finds that hard to believe. What with the amount of girls he’s had in his bed, there’s no way he hasn’t gotten loads of cuddles.

Now that she thinks about it, however, she hasn’t seen anything on the news about his newest scandal or girl toy. In fact, she hasn’t seen so much as one girl getting him to leave early to hook up—not that it’s any of her business. It just makes it easier for her to keep up his reputation.

They arrive at his bed where he had laid her down earlier. Tony tried to burn away the memory of her terrified eyes and petrified body on it.

They both snuggle into bed, making sure not to cross the invisible line they both drew to keep themselves separate.

That doesn’t stop them, however, from tearing down that barrier during their sleep, seeking each other's warmth and comfort.

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certainmaybe · 2 months

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The worst patient

Assistant should be used to hospitals by now. After all, most of their job came down to managing the teams hospital appointments. Of course they had other duties as well, from taxes to taking out the trash, there were a lot of things that didn’t fall into anybodies job description and ended up on Assistants plate. Not that it was written in their job description, but since nobody actually knew what their job was Assistant didn’t protest. As long as they had nobody monitoring their work and they could write their own paychecks they were happy with what they did. And most of it was arguing with grown adults about having to take the meds and stay in bed, even if they claimed they felt better. It was annoying, but the soft, gentle sort of annoying that made you feel important.

There had only been one time so far where Assistant had hated the hospital, and that was when Leader had gotten hurt. While the others turned into whiny babies or were simply irresponsible Leader was furious. Of course they hadn’t actually been angry with Assistant. They had been angry at them self, always so careful and responsible, because they couldn’t afford to get sick. After all, the people needed them. But it had been Assistant who stood between them and the door, who called the nurses and refused to let them get away, and so it had been Assistant that Leader screamed at. Leader could barely look them in the eye now, and Assistant was still hurt from all the things Leader had said to them, but both of them had always been professional.

So to summarize, Assistant should have been used to hospitals by now. And they were, as a guest. As a patient, apparently, they were terrified.

They were still angry at themselves for letting it happen. They knew, better than anyone, not to touch things they didn’t know, not in the base, not with Scientist being the way they were. Of all the teams hospital stays at least a third was related to something dangerous being left lying around. And still Assistant had picked up the crumpled up piece of paper, intending to throw it in the trash, only to find that a strange alien infection had entered their system.

To their credit, they had been very professional about it. They had discarded the paper, assessed the damage, realized it was spreading. They had called in sick, called the hospital and even made sure the teams affairs were handled so far that they could work without Assistant for a few days. Hopefully it would only be a few days before Assistant could at least do remote work.

you still need to put down an emergency contact

“What?” To their great embarrassment, Assistant had been too scared to pay attention to the nurses explanation.

“An emergency contact? I hate to say it, but the surgery is risky. We have no idea what exactly is happening to your body and it is sadly not unlikely that you won’t wake up. I'm sure there is somebody who would want to know?”

“Leader,” Assistant said without thinking. If Assistant died, they would need to hire a replacement fast. But there should be somebody else, telling them, not the hospital. That wasn’t the kind of relationship they had. Assistant had set up an automated message, in case they didn’t make it.

Subject: Resignation

Cause: Death

“Okay, I put them down, anything else I can do for you?”

“No, no, I don’t…” Assistant searched their mind for some other name to give the nurse, but the plan in a situation like this had been to hire a nurse to take care of them during recovery. Sadly, this had been on to short notice and Assistants inquiries had not been answered so far. They were hoping that once they were ready to get released from the hospital they would find somebody.

“Okay then. The doctor will be with you shortly.”

It wasn’t shortly. It took ages. Terrible, horrible ages during which Assitant thought abut all the things that could happen. They could die, of course, but there were so many things worse than dying. They could wake up. They could wake up sick and hurt, damaged to a point of no repair, alive just enough to know they would be better of dead. They could wake up to a slow, painful recovery, the kind they knew deep down they couldn’t manage alone. They could end up sick and hurt and dying and knowing that it was all their own fault for not being strong enough. They could end up forever alone, because they wouldn’t have anything to give, and what were they but the sum of the services they could provide.

And then the doctor came and started the anesthesia. Assistant was told to count back from ten.

Ten. They didn’t want to be here.

Nine. What if this was the end?

Eight. Why hadn’t they told anybody?

Seven. Would their team even care?

Six. They had written their will, but would anybody even look for it?

Five. If they woke up again, what were they supposed to do?

Four. Assistant had always called a nurse, just to make sure everything was all right.

Three. But what if Assistant woke up to sick to call somebody?

Two. What if they woke up and nobody cared?

One. Would anybody get them something to drink?

There was an annoying beeping sound. A metallic taste in Assistants mouth. They were, in some capacity, alive. They felt nothing but exhaustion at the thought.

They should try to open their eyes. Figure out if there was enough of them self left to call for the nurse. What was the plan for recovery, if there was one. Which medications, what therapies, which additional procedures that would all come with their own recovery plans. There was no use putting it off, if Assitant ever wanted to be healthy again they couldn’t slack off now. They had no time to wallow in their misery now.

Still, just for a moment, Assistant let their eyes stay closed. They reached for the slowly fading fog, pretended just for a moment that the hard part was over. Then they started blinking into the blinding light of the hospital.

The room was familiar at least. The same to bright lamps, of white walls, horrible flower painting, uncomfortable chair. Disinfectant and stale coffee. Assistant tried to shift towards the call button and groaned in pain.

There was the distinct sound of a person falling out of a chair and scrambling to their feet.

“Assistant? They are awake! Somebody get here, they are waking up!” The voice was to sudden, to loud for Assistant to remember it. It had to be familiar, why else would they know their name.

Things were happening much too fast for Assistants still numbed mind to register. All they knew was that soon a doctor was shining a even brighter light in their face.

“I am just checking that your brain functions properly.” They explained. The words had a meaning, though Assistant had a hard time connecting it. “Okay, everything seems to be looking good so far.” Oh, yes, brain function. That was a thing Assistant wanted to keep. Especially if their body might not ever funktion the same again. They wanted to ask.

“I-” Their throat was so dry it was almost on fire.

“Here,” said the familiar voice, and a straw was pushed towards their mouth. Assistant drank. It was possibly the best water they had ever had.

“How am I?” They got out.

“Well, I won’t lie, right now you are not in good shape. But we did manage to get the infection out. Once your body has recovered from this surgery we will start the process of repairing the damage. I won’t lie, you have a lot of hard work in front of you, but from where we are now I see a full recovery as very likely.”

“Great.” Assistant felt sick.

“It’s going to be alright,” said the familiar voice. It belonged to a silhouette, hardly visible against the blinding light of the window. “All you need right now is to rest.”

“I will let you two alone now,” said the doctor. “Call if you need anything.” The words weren’t said to Assistant, but to the other person.

“Thank you, doctor,” said that familiar voice. And suddenly it wasn’t just any familiar voice.

“Leader?” Assistant managed to get out. With the doctor gone Assistant could finally focus on the person standing in front of them. On Leader, looking like they had been to hell and back.

“You couldn’t have told me before?” Leader asked hoarsely, pulling the uncomfortable chair close.

“I had an email set up.”

“Assistant, I- I suppose it’s all I deserve.” Leader made a motion as if wiping tears away. “Is there anything I can get you? More water, another blanked, a pillow? Do you need- are you in pain? I’m sorry, I don’t really know how to do this.”

“It’s fine,” Assistant managed to get out.

“Okay. Just tell me if you need anything. Promise me, please.”

“Why are you here?” Assistant asked instead. Leader set out a sigh so full of despair that Assistants heart almost broke.

“Because the hospital called me. There was a complication during the surgery, and since you put me down as your emergency contact-” And then Leader simply started sobbing. “I’m sorry,” they managed after a moment, wiping their tears away again. “This isn’t about me. There was a complication, but they managed to fix it. But they called me, and I came.”

“You came,” Assistant echoed.

“Of course I came, Assistant, I mean-” Leader stopped themself. “Do you want me to leave? I understand if that’s… I know we aren’t exactly on good terms. If there is somebody else you would rather have here, just say the word.”

“I don’t.”

“Is it okay if I stay, then?”

“Sure.”

Awkward silence filled the room, the same awkward silence that had filled elevators and meeting rooms.

“Can I-” Leader stopped themself. “I know I have no right to ask anything of you, but, god, please don’t ever do this to me again. If you don’t want to talk to me, that’s fine, but you have to talk to somebody. I know you like doing things on your own, but some things you just can’t do alone. And this- I think this is one of those things.”

“I know.” Assistant was getting teary eyed them self. They were exhausted and in pain and still high on medication and their stoic leader was crying in front of them, there was really nothing they could do.

“Then why didn’t you tell anybody?”

“I-” It was the drugs fault what Assistant said next. “What if you hadn’t come?”

“Of course I would have come. Though I suppose I understand why you would have doubted that. But why didn’t you call any of the others then?”

Instead of an answer, Assistant just glared at Leader.

“Okay, I see how that might not have helped the situation.”

“What happens now?”

“It’s mostly up to you, but if I was you, I would get my revenge by being the most difficult patient the world has ever seen.” It was as much a cry as a laugh, but still Assistant had missed hearing Leader laugh.

“I feel like I am off to a good start for that.” And Leader laughed, and Assistant let out a painful chuckle. “I think I will sleep now.”

“Okay. I’ll be there when you wake up.”

#whump #heroes and villains #hurt/comfort #hero #snippet #original story #heroxvillain #assistant #leader #medical whump #sickfic

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