It all started with a cherry cough drop. Something so simple, so trivial, something that mothers use over-the-counter to treat their little one's sore throat. Something that could kill Robert Bruce Banner. Bruce was eight years old when he first had an allergic reaction to cherries, it was a cherry flavored lollipop that he'd gotten on Valentine's day. It sent him into anaphylactic shock. It had set on so quickly that Bruce had thought he was just having a mild asthma attack, he just took a few light puffs of his inhaler. His teacher found him, half an hour later on the floor of the boy's bathroom. His lips were blue and he had a splotchy rash covering his face and hands, but the most terrifying thing was that he couldn't breathe.

His teacher scooped him into his arms and raced to boy to the nurse, it was an hour later that they finally got Bruce to the hospital. If the nurse hadn't been smart and realized what was happening quick enough to grab another child's Epi-pen and inject him with it...Bruce would've died that day. The day he was diagnosed with a several allergy to cherries and plums. That and his severe asthma made his mother even more terrified to let him outside into the world.

So to quell his mother's fears, the young Banner would stay inside with his trusty textbooks and read. That was how he became a physicist at the astoundingly young age of only seventeen. But once his mother was gone, there was no one to care about Bruce's well-being anymore. He was on his own with an abusive drunk for a father. It's no question why he left. So back to the cherry cough drop...

-Present Time-

Bruce ran a long fingered hair through his tangled curly locks, he'd spent the night in the lab again. So when he'd lumbered into the kitchen he was surprised to see just what time it was. Steve and Tony were arguing about lunch, Natasha and Clint were in some animated discussion about some assassin thing and Thor was trying to get a spoon to balance on his nose. The physicist yawned and raised his arms over his head before knocking his hip against the table. This made everybody look towards the half-comatose, fluffy-haired physicist. Steve looked at him with disapproving eyes as he looked at him, muttering something about stupid scientists and not knowing their limits.

"You should probably sit down before you fall down, Brucie."

Tony suggested, hurrying over to take Bruce by the arm and lead him over to the table filled with Avengers. The physicist just nodded and consented, he was too tired to argue anyway. So when Tony pressed what seemed like a mint into his hand, Bruce thought nothing of it. Just unwrapping it and sticking into his mouth.

But when the sickening sweetness of cherry spread across the bumpy plane of his tongue, he felt his chest clench in fear. In hind sight, he probably should've told them about the cherry allergy and the asthma. But he hadn't wanted them to look at him like he was weak. He was already the weakest link on the team when he wasn't the Hulk, he didn't need anymore reasons for them to lock him in a stupid safety-bubble.

The physicist instantly darted towards the sink and spit out what reminded of the stupid cough drop. He knew that it had probably left a flavoring stain on his tongue and he began to wash it out with water hurriedly, but to no avail. He soon found himself panting and lacking his lips frantically. He was aware that every avenger in the room was staring at him as if he'd grown a second head.

"Bruce? Are you alright?"

Steve asked, hurrying over to study the physicist worriedly. Bruce tried to convey to Steve that he was fine, but the only thing that came out of his mouth was a hoarse squeak, his chest was so tight that it hurt to breathe and Bruce found himself tugging on his shirt, as if he subconsciously thought it would relieve the overwhelming pressure. God, it hurt and it felt like his head was spinning. He twisted his head to look around frantically as he felt a pair of strong arms wrap around him and lower him to the tile.

By this time, his chest was so tight that the only air escaping was making a soft wheezing noise and even that was growing fainter, his eyes were stretched wide in terror and he was tugging at his shirt, worriedly. Trying to tell them that he couldn't breathe, to go get his inhaler, his Epi-pen, to do SOMETHING. But all the Avengers did was stare at him in something akin to shock or terror, looking down at him with worry.

"Bruce! What's happening?!"

Clint yelled as he began to pat down the physicist's body for some hint of what was happening. Finally he yanked out the physicist's wallet and with a single look inside, realization dawned in his eyes. He let the brown wallet fall from his hands and hurriedly grabbed Bruce's face with both hands. He forced the physicist to stare into his blue-green eyes as he asked frantically.

"Where is it Bruce, where's your Epi-pen?!"

Bruce motioned to his leg with a hand and Natasha yanked up his pant leg to expose a black case strapped onto his shin. An Epi-pen case, Clint thanked God as he looked at the small black case. Tony grabbed Clint's arm.

"Clint! What's happening?!"

"Bruce is having an allergic reaction. Tony, go call an Ambulance. Thor and Nat, go find some water and towels. Steve, we've gotta give him his Epi-pen now."

Clint ordered, taking over as he was the only one who'd dealt with Anaphylaxis before. He quickly yanked open the case and snatched up the Epi-pen, freezing as an emergency inhaler fell out of it as well. Was Bruce an asthmatic too? Double shit. Suddenly Clint stiffened as he heard what sounded like choking, he spun around to see Bruce grabbing at his neck, his lips were tinted blue, his tongue swollen and protruding past his lips.

"Clint!"

Steve yelled as he watched Bruce's eyes dilate and slowly roll back into his head. Clint lunged forwards, cursing under his breath as he ripped the cap off of the pen with his teeth and stabbed it into the soft muscle of Bruce's thigh. The physicist remained motionless though and that scared both Steve and Clint to no end. Clint snatched up the inhaler and shoved the end into Bruce's mouth, pressing the button so he could breathe in the medication, but the physicist wasn't responding.

"TONY! WHERE'S THE AMBULANCE?!"

Clint bellowed, trying to check Bruce's pulse. It was fluttery but still there. Clint softly began to rub Bruce's leg where he'd stabbed him with the needle to get the medicine circulating.