It was a normal Wednesday morning, the kitchen filled with laughter as Clint made everyone smoothies while Thor unsuccessfully tried to flip pancakes onto the stove—only for one to stick to the ceiling. After everyone got their drinks, you took a few sips before your throat suddenly became itchy. Tony frowned at his cup. "This isn't strawberry... it's grapefruit." Clint froze. "...Y/N's was supposed to be grapefruit." You looked into your smoothie and saw a whole strawberry. Within seconds your throat began closing, rashes spread across your skin, and you collapsed to the floor struggling to breathe. "Bruce, med kit!" Tony shouted. "Where's your EpiPen?!" Natasha asked desperately. You could only shake your head as your vision blurred. The team searched everywhere while Steve stayed beside you, trying to keep you awake. "Stay with us, kid." Your eyes rolled back and everything went black. "I found it!" Clint yelled, pulling your EpiPen from your bag. Bruce immediately injected it into your thigh. The room fell silent until your eyes slowly opened again. Everyone sighed in relief. You were sick into a bucket as Bruce predicted before collapsing weakly against Steve. Clint looked heartbroken. "I'm so sorry... I never meant to hurt you." Unable to speak, you simply squeezed his hand. Hours later you were resting on the couch, wrapped in blankets while the team refused to leave your side. Bruce monitored your recovery, Steve gently brushed your hair back, Natasha cooled your forehead with a cloth, Tony brought your medicine and water, and Clint stayed beside you, still blaming himself. Though your throat hurt and you were exhausted, one thing was certain... You weren't facing it alone.