Summary: "Tony's chest had been peeled open like an orange…" In this brief story, Steve / Captain America and Tony / Iron Man are the subjects of a merciless experiment. Friendship, angst and extreme hurt / comfort.

Lab Rats
PenPatronus

Steve Rogers felt like he'd been dunked in wet cement and then chucked into a pit of quicksand. There were drugs in his blood. He was sure of it.

At least his eyes were working. He was in a narrow, white-washed cell that smelled like a hospital. Machines whirled from somewhere beyond the bars. The only other sign of life was a still silhouette lying in the corner: Tony Stark. Steve groaned and started to army-crawl across the room through a pool of Tony's blood.

A month ago Steve wouldn't have really cared beyond a professional level that Stark was bleeding. At that point they'd been indifferent, reluctant teammates, at best. But after a few dozen life-or-death situations a deep bond had formed. They were bonded by mission, trust, respect and the realization that they really did have more in common than not. The fact that each would die for the other was never admitted aloud but both knew it was there. Steve ruminated on the irony as he crawled toward his friend. They were finally getting along and now, for all Steve knew, Tony might be dead.

When the Captain was within range he gently head-butted the other Avenger in the shoulder and said, "Stark? Stark!" When that didn't wake him he gripped Tony's shoulder and pulled. Stark landed on his back and woke up yelling. His spine arched. His eyes widened as far as possible. Limbs flailed and blood bloomed from his lips.

"Tony!" Steve struggled to hold him still. He leaned his elbow against Tony's stomach but jumped back when the screams got louder.

A solid ten seconds went by before Tony was able to get out a few coherent words. "Shit, Steve, Son-of-a… My…" He clutched the arc reactor through his shirt and just as suddenly as he started moving, went eerily still. His face paled and his body convulsed.

"What is it?" Steve whispered. He cupped his friend's face in his hands. "Tony?"

Stark's hands trembled as he tugged his t-shirt out of his jeans. Steve helped and soon it was rolled up and under Tony's chin. It took Steve's foggy brain a moment to understand what he was looking at. When it clicked it was like lightning behind his eyes. "Oh my god." He pivoted away and dry heaved a few cups of bile and spit onto the floor.

It looked like Tony's chest had been peeled open like an orange. The arc reactor was there, and apparently working, but it wiggled in its place every time Tony exhaled. Whoever had performed the sloppy surgery had widened the hole and it was too large for the reactor to fit. Another, misshapen, discolored, crude arc reactor stuck out from Tony's stomach. A third one was in his liver. Tony stared at his body with shock at first, then curiosity, then horror. He looked up, said Steve's name and then a series of indistinguishable vowels. Then he passed out. His head would've cracked open on the floor if Steve hadn't caught him.

"Those bastards," Steve said hissed. "Those…" He couldn't find a word accurate enough. "I'll kill them. I'll kill them!" He turned to the cell door and yelled, "I'll kill you!"

In his dream, Tony played baseball with his dad. They had never played catch in real life like a "normal" father and son. Howard saw no value in swinging a stick of wood and Tony preferred using his fists instead of a glove.

In his dream, Tony kept trying to run to home base but every time he got close his father stopped him. He held up his hands, picked him up, even tackled him whenever he got near.

"No, son," he said, over and over. "You can't come home yet. Not yet."

"Why?" the young Tony asked.

His father smiled. He wore a red and gold baseball cap. "You still have some running to do."

A forest fire of a fever woke Tony up. Pools of sweat on his eyelids splashed into his pupils when he opened them. Tony hissed, squirmed, and was surprised when something soft started to mop up his face. When he had blinked all of the moisture out of his eyes, Steve came into focus. Captain America seemed older than the last time Tony had seen him, which could've been years ago or minutes, he wasn't sure.

"You've been out for half a day," Steve said.

Tony blinked. Steve had practically read his mind. He'd never had a friend who could do that, not even Rhodey or Pepper.

"Does it still hurt?" Steve asked softly.

Tony flexed his muscles from his toes to his ears. He frowned. "No."

"That's a good sign."

"Did they give me morphine or something?"

Steve returned his attention to mopping up Tony's forehead with his own shirt sleeve. "Maybe… No. I doubt it."

"Then it's not a good sign."

Steve made eye contact but then quickly looked away. He gestured to the two new reactors. "Why did they do this?"

Stark theorized that they wanted to mass-produce the technology for the medical field, to see if the reactor could power a pacemaker or an imbedded insulin injector. He was glad for the distraction, happy to put his mind on something constructive, even if he was the experiment. "Mobile life support. Either that or… I smell a Dr. Frankenstein."

Steve's eyes sparkled in the light from the reactors. "They're coming for us. The others. They'll get here soon."

"Not soon enough."

"You don't know that."

"I've been on my deathbed before. More than once. I know what dying feels like and this, Cap," Tony nodded at the reactors, "will kill me sooner rather than later."

Steve didn't argue. His expression contorted like he was gearing up to start yelling but then he deflated. Instead of speaking he covered Tony's chest with the shirt and then gently lifted him into his lap and held him. Tony pressed his nose against Steve's sternum and closed his eyes. The two men sat in companionable silence for a good while. And then Tony said, "Steve?"

"Yeah."

"Tell Pepper I was brave." Something landed on Tony's neck. One of Steve's tear drops. "But don't tell her about this part. Or Fury." Tony's attempt to lighten the mood didn't work.

"Steve?"

"Yeah."

"I've been meaning to ask you… My father. What was my father like, when you knew him?"

"You should rest, Tony. You should sleep." Tony just stared at him. Steve started to argue some more but thought better of it. "Howard Stark was…" Steve adjusted himself into a more comfortable position and stared at the ceiling. "He was… arrogant."

Tony chuckled. "Tell me something I don't know."

"Egotistical."

"Yes."

"He sweet talked this dame I liked."

"Not surprising."

"He was brilliant, of course. Good pilot. Brave. He flew into enemy airspace to help me rescue some POWs."

Tony frowned slightly. "I didn't know that."

"And Fury said he sent search parties after me for almost two years after I disappeared."

"I didn't know that, either."

Steve hesitated, then said, "He'd be proud of you."

Tony's nostrils flared and his throat worked.

Suddenly Steve's ears perked up. He heard a new sound among the roaring machines down the corridor outside their cell. It was an uneven rumble almost like thunder. Glass shattered. An alarm went off. "Do you hear that?" he asked Tony.

"Clint?"

"Uh, no but… Is that the Hulk?"

"No, Clint." Tony pointed at the ceiling. Steve looked up and almost dropped Tony in surprise when he saw Barton's face through a hole the assassin had silently drilled. A rope dropped into the room and the Black Widow slid down it.

"I'm hallucinating," Tony concluded.

"Nice to see you, too," Natasha quipped. Clint tossed down a blanket and she quickly wrapped it around Tony. "Let's get you two out of here."

Tony woke up in the hospital with the scent of Pepper's coconut hair in his nose. He whispered her name and stretched out his fingers.

"You just missed her," said a voice nearby. Steve leaned over him and grinned. "Coffee run."

Tony touched his chest and stomach. He felt no pain, only the pressure of tight bandages. The IV in his arm made his stomach tingle. "We made it."

Steve nodded. "The doctors were able to stitch up your organs and remove the other reactors. Good thing, too. They were about to break."

"And you?"

"The drugs were flushed out of my system. I'm on my feet."

"Terrific." Tony relaxed into his pillow. "Hey, listen. What you said about my dad…"

Steve winced. "Was 'egotistical' too harsh of a word?"

Tony chuckled. "No, the part about, you know… the pride thing… I think he'd be proud of you, too. Of all of us. S.H.I.E.L.D., the Avengers, all that we've done…"

Steve nodded. He reached out and patted Tony gently on the wrist. "Yeah. I think he would." Tony returned the gesture and the two men sat together, waiting for Pepper to bring coffee.

End