Bonus+ : Darcy and Bruce have the same glasses proscription and swap glasses now and then. (Just because) Hopefully this fulfills the prompt to the requestor's standards. 2) I do, personally, suffer from asthma (well, did until I was 10 and have occasional issues now). My understanding of asthma came from research into the condition and my own memories of treatment. Some of this may be a little bit out of date, and for that I apologize. I also constructed this off of my understanding of the condition, so if I'm incorrect, please let me know.
3) I've gotten flack for this, so I'm going to put it in here once: I know there's no cure for asthma. If there was, I wouldn't still have issues with it myself. But from Steve's perspective, any kind of solid treatment would look like a cure. He's using the word in the context of a medication that can be used to control the condition in most situations, not in terms of a medication that actually keeps the condition from ever happening again. For those who don't know, asthma can be caused by a number of things including genetics. There isn't a cure for asthma, it's just treatable for the most part. Yes, I know some people have difficulty treating their asthma, but in this I'm operating under the idea that Darcy can control hers. Anyway, that should be it. Enjoy everyone.
When the fire alarms started blaring through the lab level immediately following an explosion that made the walls shake, Steve was the first to bolt towards Tony's lab. Thor and Clint, who'd been walking with him to check on the genius billionaire, took off with him. Explosions weren't uncommon, but fire alarms always caused worry. It meant the explosion had produced enough smoke or flame to set off the ones in the hallway (Tony had disabled the ones in his lab after they went off for the fifth time in a week while he was working).
Sure enough, when they reached the lab, smoke was billowing out of the open doorway and into the hall. It was only Pepper's advanced planning that saved them from having to crawl through a hallway filled with smoke. She'd had the foresight to install an industrial-sized vent just outside Tony's workshop as well as three in the workshop itself. Those vents were currently siphoning the smoke out of both the hall and the workshop at a rapid pace.
The three men reached the lab just as Jane, Tony, and Bruce came stumbling out of the lab following Darcy, who was kneeling on the floor of the hallway, choking. In a way Steve knew all too well. It was the choking that indicated she couldn't breath properly, the shallow coughs that had haunted him through childhood. She was having an asthma attack. Steve moved immediately to help her, even as she fumbled in her purse, the coughing growing more rapid as she went.
Her hand emerged clutching a small piece of L-shaped plastic tubing which she brought to her mouth following a bad coughing fit and pressed down on the back of, taking a deep breath. She held the tube in her mouth for a moment, eyes closed as she didn't breath or move, before pulling the device back and letting out a heavy breath. She drew in several more in rapid succession, but only a few sporadic coughs followed, far deeper than the ones before had been.
Steve stopped a few feet away from her, eyes wide as he watched her breathing ease a little. The device was still clutched in her hand and she repeated the process once more before sliding the small object back in her purse and leaning against the wall.
Her breathing was still a little rapid and heavy, even as she spoke. "Damn it Tony, next time you decide to blow up your lab, make sure I'm not in it when you do. Or at least make sure I'm not sick."
"Are you alright Darcy?" asked Jane in concern.
Darcy waved a hand at the other woman and offered her a grin. "Yeah, I'm fine. This is what albuterol inhalers are for."
Steve's brows furrowed. "What's albuterol?"
Darcy looked up at Steve and fished the device out of her purse again. "Its a drug for combating asthma. It reduces the constriction in the airways and opens everything up so you can breath again." She held up the small device towards him so he could get a better look. He could see the canister on the back of the device now. "This one is a rescue inhaler, so it's smaller than the nebulizer that I have at home."
"It opens things up?" asked Steve as he knelt down to look at the small device.
Darcy waved it at him, then set it in his hand when he held the appendage out. "Yeah. Asthma is caused by constriction in the lungs due to inflammation, reducing the amount of air an individual can take in. Albuterol reduces the inflammation so you can breath again."
By now, Steve's eyes were wide as he looked from the small device to Darcy. "You can treat asthma now?"
Darcy nodded as she took Clint's hand and used it to hoist herself to her feet. She was shaking a little, causing Clint to wrap an arm around her shoulders and steady her. "We've been able to treat it for years. I'd be dead by now if we couldn't."
"That's amazing," breathed Steve almost reverently as he turned the small device over in his hands.
"Uh, Steve?" asked Darcy with a cocked eyebrow. "Are you gonna start molesting my inhaler? Because if so, I'd like it back now please."
Steve felt a blush overtake his skin at her question, handing the device back to her sheepishly. "Sorry, but that's just...really amazing. I had asthma before, when I was younger, and we couldn't treat it. All the doc's said it was some neurological condition that they couldn't cure."
Darcy shook her head slowly. "Yeah, no, its physical. There's a whole list of known triggers and degrees of severity now. I can point you to some good literature if you want."
"Later Darce, lets get you upstairs now," insisted Clint, eyes darting to Steve before a smirk that Steve definitely didn't like crossed his lips. "Actually, why doesn't Steve take you up? You can show him that nebulizer monstrosity of yours, since he's interested."
"You just don't like the noise it makes," stated Darcy with a role of her eyes, even as Steve wrapped his arm around her in place of Clint's.
Clint rolled his eyes. "It's noisy and keeps me awake."
"Yeah, yeah, yeah, go cry to Dad," replied Darcy with a roll of her eyes.
Clint grinned. "Probably will, he always offers a good destraction."
"Okay, ew," groused Darcy with a glare a Clint. "No girl wants to hear what her dads' do behind closed doors."
"Then stop flirting with the Agents we work with," compromised Clint. "Seriously, Phil looked ready to deck the last guy he caught you flirting with."
Darcy rolled her eyes. "In my defense, he did get handsy, which I didn't think he would. I mean, come on, who tries to grope the daughter of an Avenger and the Boss Ninja of S.H.I.E.L.D.?"
Clint growled a little, eyes narrowing, apparently having not heard about this part. "Did you tazer him?"
"Of course," replied Darcy with a roll of her eyes. "What else would I do?"
"Good," replied Clint with a satisfied nod. "I wasn't really looking forward to a trip to Siberia."
Darcy rolled her eyes. "Well, you dodged that bullet."
Clint nodded and shooed them a little with his hands. "Alright, enough chit-chat. Get upstairs and use that noisy beast you call a nebulizer."
"Yes, Mom," drawled Darcy, even as she started pulling Steve towards the elevators. He looked kind of gob-smacked as she dragged him in and pressed the button for the floor where her apartment was. She noticed his expression as she turned to lean on the wall, noting the way his eyes were somewhat wider than normal. "Something wrong, Cap?"
Steve shook his head a little, eyes darting from the closed elevator doors, to Darcy, and back to the doors again. "Uh, what just happened?"
Darcy shrugged and reached up to adjust her glassed, frowning as she pulled them off her face to examine the lenses. "Dad was being Dad, why? I'd think you'd be used to that behavior by now."
"Clint's...wait, Clint's your dad?" asked Steve, now completely confused. His fellow teammate had never mentioned having a daughter before.
Darcy nodded and sighed. "Yeah, him and Phil, er Agent Coulson, are my parents. Damn it, I grabbed Bruce's glasses by accident."
Steve nearly got whip-lash from the change of topic. "Er, what?"
"Bruce's glasses," repeated Darcy as she waved the lenses in her hands around a little. "I grabbed them by mistake. We have the same prescription and must have set our glasses down next to each other again."
"Er, is that a problem?" asked Steve, puzzled about how they could even not notice they'd switched glasses.
"Not really," replied Darcy as she put the lenses back on with a shrug and stepped into the hall once the doors had opened. "We swap glasses on occasion anyway. Actually, come to think of it, these might have originally been mine."
Steve was still confused. "Why do you switch glasses?"
"'Cause we can," replied Darcy with a shrug as she unlocked the door to her apartment and stepped inside. "Dad, you home?"
No sound echoed from within the apartment, so Darcy shrugged and pulled out her phone to text someone while heading to the closet. She extracted a large, boxy device from its shelf and put it on the coffee table in the living room, motioning for Steve to take a seat. "Want anything to drink?"
"Um, some water would be nice," admitted Steve as he poked at the device on the table.
Darcy smiled and stepped into the kitchen, returning a moment later with two glasses of water. She handed one to Steve and downed the other before dropping onto the couch and pulling a tube off the device on the coffee table. "So, once I start using this thing, I can't say anything for about ten minutes, but I can pass notes."
Steve nodded, his eyes taking in the device. "That's the nebulizer thing?"
"Yep," confirmed Darcy with a grin. "It turns the medication into mist that I inhale. It's a more long-term treatment for asthma. I only use it when I've been sick though."
Steve let out a quiet whistle. "I wish I'd had one of those when I was younger. It would have been nice to be able to breath."
Darcy smiled and tipped a package of liquid into a small capsule on the device and flipped a switch. The machine let out a slight hum as it started and Darcy placed a plastic mouth piece into her mouth and held it there. She grabbed a notebook from the table and scribbled a note with her free hand on a blank piece of paper. 'Have you seen the Thin Man?'
A smile drew across Steve's face and he nodded. "It's one of my favorite movies."
Something that might have been a smirk if Darcy didn't have the contraption in her mouth tugged at her lips as she picked up the remote and flipped on the TV, starting the DVD version of the first Thin Man movie.
Phil Coulson walked into his apartment after work, worry furrowing his brow. Clint had stopped by and told him about the explosion in the lab and Darcy's asthma attack. He'd also mentioned that she was fine, but Phil found he never believed it until he saw his daughter alive and well. Moving into the living room, he found Darcy and Steve curled up on the couch, talking mutely as they watched the forth movie in the Thin Man series. Steve apparently said something funny, because Darcy's laugh echoed around the small room.
A smile tugged a the corner of Phil's mouth as he ghosted through the room and into the master bedroom he shared with Clint. The archer was reclining on the bed, one foot propped on the opposite knee and a catalog of archery equipment in his hands. Clint looked up as Phil entered the room, giving the older agent a smirk before he unbent his legs and set the catalog aside.
"They still out there?" he asked, nodding towards the door to the living room once Phil had shut it.
Phil nodded. "Yes, happily watching old movies."
"Good," grinned Clint, who folded his arms under his head so he could watch Phil.
Phil just rolled his eyes as he started to undo his tie. "Is it safe to assume I have you to thank for the fact that our daughter is looking rather cozy with the good Captain?"
"I'd think you'd be happy about that," commented Clint with a grin. "At least we know Steve'll take good care of her." The heavy sigh that Phil let out sounded annoyed, but Clint knew it was all show. "Better than some Agent who can't keep his hands to himself."
Phil shook his head and looked back at the door curiously. "You have a point, but do you think your little plan will actually work?"
Clint gave him the cocky smirk that had driven Phil mad for the first few months he'd worked with the archer, until it hadn't. "Relax, this'll work."
"If you get our daughter's heart broken, you have to pick up the pieces," warned Phil. "I will leave the state and order Natasha to with-hold all assistance."
"Threat noted," assured Clint as he stood and stretched. "So, dinner?"
Though I doubt it, I might do a follow up bit on this (i.e.: next day, reactions, etc). Anyway, hope this wasn't too weird. I'm hopped up right now on way too much Skyrim and am currently having to treat my own asthma plus bronchitis, so I'm going to blame that combination for any insanity.