A few days after my conversation with Director Fury and Tony was pottering 'round the apartment. Clint and Natasha were on their way, and I was running around trying to make sure that Tony didn't hurt himself, panic or break the building.
CRASH!
I ran into the kitchen area, "Oh shit Tony!"
At the same time Clint and Natasha walked out if the elevator, and I watched as the surveyed the scene. Clint looked incredulous. Natasha was straight-faced as usual.
I looked at Tony, who was curled up, in a fetal position on the floor with about 10 smashed glasses surrounding him. I rushed over to him, clearing the glass with my foot. "Tony, Tony it's okay. Whatever it is, it is not real." I put my arms around him, oblivious to Clint and Natasha's stares. After about 5 minutes, Tony calmed down considerably. I helped him to stand and struggled to pull him over to Clint and Natasha who had not moved but were now, smiling in a way that meant they knew something that we didn't. I gave Clint a pleading look and he rolled his eyes, but obliged anyway. He took Tony from me and followed me to Tony's room, where Tony quickly fell asleep on his bed. Panic attacks seemed to exhaust him. At least I had help now. Clint and I left Tony and went back to Natasha who was looking impatient.
"So, how's Stark?" Natasha asked.
"Not good. Panic attack, it's normal at the moment, but he is asleep now."
"Okay. Bruce. I have to go for 3 days. Coulson's alive."