Saving Tony (Tony Stark x Reader)

Chapter 10 - Code Orange

You wind your way through the chaos, dodging scrambling nurses and giving curt nods to Griggs and Émile as you move towards the OR prep room and begin scrubbing up. But your process is cut short as Lucas enters.

"Thank God." he says. "We need your hands."

"Lucas what are you doing?! Get out!" you hiss. He isn't clear to enter the scrub room - he'll contaminate your process.

"It's too late, Y/n. A chemical spill up on eight caused an explosion. We lost two already."

"Two? I thought there was only one fatality?" you ask.

"The second passed about ten minutes ago."

"My patient?" you ask.

Lucas nods solemnly.

You inhale sharply as your stomach clenches in guilty anger. If you had just stayed on the ship you would have been here. Maybe you could have prevented that. But you can't afford to lose yourself to that regret now. So you clench your jaw as you pull off the surgical gloves, tossing them in the trash.

"Does Dr. Carrill need assistance in OR 1?" you ask.

"No, he sent me to tell you to help with the seriously injured. Fortunately I think we've got everyone corralled. We haven't had anyone else come in for nearly an hour."

You nod as Lucas scurries away and moves towards Griggs, who cradles a woman's very broken arm in his hands. Making your way towards a row of beds currently unattended by medical staff, you feel a warm hand on your shoulder. You whirl around to find a pair of anxious, brown eyes looking into yours, concern on his face.

"Where's the fire, Doc?"

"Not now, Tony," you scowl, pulling away and rushing towards the nearest bed where a young man lies prone, bordering on unconscious, bandages hastily wrapped around his side now leaking blood.

"I'm here to help," he says from behind you as you gently unwrap the bindings.

"Anytime anyone has told me they're 'here to help', they almost always never help," you say as your breath catches. The deep gash below the man's ribs is oozing through the packing. Clearly one of the doctors or nurses had extracted a large piece of shrapnel and did a quick bandage job before moving on. Thank God you checked him. He's losing blood. Fast.

"I do believe I'm in a unique position to actually be of assistance here, Doc," Tony says. "Explosions and chaos...it's kind of what I do."

"You're not a doctor," you say gruffly, assessing the wound.

"Astute as always. But I am an Avenger. A hero to the masses, some might say. The face of courage? Yes. A symbol of American ingenuity and intellect? Absolutely."

"You're monologuing," you growl as you remove a piece of packing to test the volatility of the wound. "Get to the point."

"All of this, Doc?" he says, gesturing around to the blood and the panic. "I'm about it."

"About what, exactly?" you growl as you begin changing the packing in the wound.

"Helping people. I'm Iron Man. I can't just sit around and watch. Give me a job to do or I'll find one to do on my own."

"Fine, Stark," you say, pulling out the bloody packing gauze and discarding it on the floor beneath the bed. "If you want to help, go to the supply closet and grab me one of the bottles labeled 'DIS-9' and a roll of gauze and wraps. Clear?" you bark, focused only on the man in front of you.