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Steve enjoyed baking. It was something his mother had taught him when he was a child, and it helped him connect with his past in the modern world. There were new recipes, new equipment, new ingredients, but it was still familiar.
It was something he would do to pass the time in the small apartment SHIELD had provided for him just after he came out of the ice. It was something he could to to relax while trying to get accustomed to the modern world.
He also found that it helped him connect with the people around him. He had memories of his mother baking sweet treats for their neighbours, giving him cakes to share with his friends at school on his birthday, making biscuits to give to people going through a hard time.
Steve found that even the stoniest faced SHIELD agents would warm up to him when he offered freshly baked cookies around at meetings.
Steve found himself stress baking when news of Loki permeated SHIELD headquarters. As Loki posed a threat on the world, Steve had been turned to by SHIELD to be part of a group of extraordinary people to lead the response. Tony Stark was a part of this team.
Steve had had brief meetings with Tony before this, and had liked the man well enough, although he seemed detached, and wasn’t as friendly as some of the other people around Steve. Steve had chalked this up to Tony being busy - he seemed like the kind of man to prioritise work over relationships, and he did have a company to run after all.
Steve decided it would be a good idea to bake some cookies for his coworkers. Everyone seemed a little stressed in the preparation for Loki, and as the unofficial leader of the so called Avengers, Steve felt it was his responsibility to try to ease this stress somewhat.
He ran into Tony a few minutes before a meeting. The man was pacing the hallway, typing into his phone. Steve shook his head slightly. From what he saw of the modern world, everybody seemed all too interested in their phones and devices, rather than appreciating what was around them. Tony was definitely an example of someone who could do with slowing down and putting the phone away.
Just then, he looked up and noticed Steve.
“Oh hey Cap,” he said in a friendly, if not overly warm tone.
“Hi Tony,” Steve responded. “What are you up to there?” He asked, nodding at the phone in Tony’s hand.
“Oh the usual, SI business, multi-national contracts,” Tony said vaguely, slipping the phone into his jacket pocket smoothly.
Steve nodded. He found it was best not to question Tony sometimes. While he personally felt the billionaire probably should be focusing on Avengers business rather than his own interests, he saw no need to point this out. Tony would probably just become defensive. Instead, he offered out the box he was holding.
“I made these for everyone. The atmosphere’s a bit stressed at the moment, and I thought people would appreciate some biscuits.”
“They look nice,” Tony said, although his tone lacked conviction. “Can’t have one unfortunately. More for everyone else. Thanks though.”
Steve frowned.
“What, are you on a diet?” He asked.
Tony shook his head.
“No no. I can’t have gluten. Messes with my immune system,” he explained.
“There’s no gluten in these,” Steve said.
Tony furrowed his brows.
“Are you sure?”
“I just used the regular ingredients for cookies.” Steve explained. “Sugar, butter, flour-”
He was cut off by Tony’s laugh.
“Gluten isn’t an ingredient, it’s a protein. Found in wheat, among other things.” He pulled his phone out of his pocket as it emitted a small beep, and rolled his eyes. “Anyway, it doesn’t matter. I’m sure other people will eat them. I gotta deal with this,” he said, holding up his phone. “I’ll see you in the meeting,” he said by way of goodbye, before walking off, already talking to someone on his phone.
Steve sighed. It was disappointing, but not surprising that Tony would be that stuck up. It was obvious that he just didn’t think that Steve’s food was good enough to eat, although that was hardly surprising from someone who had likely been raised with a team of chefs who would cook him whatever he wanted whenever he wanted. There was nothing wrong with his homemade food, Steve reminded himself, and went in search of someone who would appreciate his work.
One thing Tony hadn’t anticipated about an alien invasion is how boring the aftermath would be. Meeting after meeting, discussing clean up, PR, what the avengers would do moving forward, how to prevent another attack. He wished he had Thor’s excuse of living on an entirely different planet as a way to get out of it but alas, here he was, stuck in yet another meeting.
And he was hungry. Hunger seemed to be a permanent part of his life at the moment, but his illness made regular meals almost impossible. So the answer came in small, overpriced, brightly coloured and highly processed gluten free snacks. Sometimes they even tasted nice.
Pepper kept telling him to take food with him in case he got hungry, and this time he was glad he had listened to her. He had a protein bar somewhere, he knew he did…
The patting of the pockets drew Rhodey’s attention, sat beside Tony.
“Hungry?” He asked quietly. Tony nodded. Rhodey wordlessly reached into his jacket pocket and handed him a protein bar wrapped in bright blue packaging.
“You take such good care of me, platypus,” Tony said affectionately.
“You didn’t have any breakfast or something?” Natasha asked from across the table.
“I did,” Tony said, taking a bite. “But I’m hungry now.”
“Looks like one of those bullshit health bars that people obsessed with themselves eat when they’re on a diet,” Clint said.
“Well, I am obsessed with myself,” Tony said. “And I suppose you could say I’m on a diet.”
“You eat those processed things, but you don’t like cookies?” Steve asked.
“I like cookies, but as I told you, I can’t have them,” Tony reminded him. “I can’t eat gluten.”
Natasha rolled her eyes.
“Yeah, and Megan from accounting is avoiding gluten as well. Says it gives her breakouts. I can’t believe you’re falling for these fad diets.”
“It’s not a fad,” Rhodey said, jumping in to defend Tony. “Tony is a coeliac. It’s an actual illness.”
“You’re allergic to it?” Steve asked.
“No,” Tony said. “It’s not an allergy, it’s an immune disease. If I eat gluten, my immune system will start attacking my small intestine. It put me in hospital a while ago because I didn’t know I had it. I still can’t eat large meals, hence the snacks.”
Clint raised an eyebrow.
“Eating gluten messes with your immune system? Come on,” he scoffed.
“What?” Tony asked. “That’s the truth. You guys asked, so that’s what’s going on. It’s not a big deal.”
“Tony’s right,” Natasha said. “It’s not a big deal if he wants to follow some diet. That’s his business.”
“It’s not really a want,” Bruce said, piping up for the first time. Tony turned to look at him. Bruce usually didn’t say anything in these meetings, just occasionally winced when footage of the Hulk was shown, and seemed to always be nursing a headache. “Coeliac disease is a genuine immune problem where antibodies mistake gluten for harmful particles, so attack it, severely damaging the small intestine in the process. He could be really ill if he ate gluten, so it’s not really some trendy diet.”
“Thanks, Bruce,” Tony said. “Was there any more of my medical history you wanted to share?”
Bruce blanched.
“Oh-I…I’m sorry I-”
“I’m kidding, it’s fine,” Tony said, shooting him a wink.
Steve wasn’t sure if he believed Tony. It seemed very characteristic of him to follow some sort of fad diet, and he certainly seemed the type to enjoy the attention this so called illness gave him. Besides, he had never heard of it, or gluten for that matter, before. He was sure this sort of thing didn’t exist when he was a kid. Back then, people ate the food they had, and were grateful for it. This kind of pickiness must be a result of Tony’s spoiled nature, and hedonistic lifestyle. Steve was sure that people with real problems weren’t arbitrarily deciding which foods they would or wouldn’t eat.
“Anyway, are we done discussing my food now? I didn’t realise ‘discussing Tony’s coeliac disease’ was on the agenda today,” Tony said.
“Right,” Steve said, clicking on to the next slide.
Tony knew living with other people would be challenging. He had prepared himself for that prior to moving into the Avengers Compound temporarily. He had decided that living there for three months after the opening of the compound would be beneficial, both to the avengers as a team, and in case there were any initial problems. However, none of the problems seemed to come from the technology within the compound, but rather the people living in it.
He knew living with other people would be challenging. But that didn’t mean he wasn’t pissed off to find all of his breakfast food had been eaten.
“Guys,” Tony said, addressing the people sitting in the living area, Steve, Sam, Wanda and Bruce. “Did someone eat my gluten free waffles?”
“I thought all the food was communal,” Sam replied.
Tony sighed.
“Most of it is yes, however, the gluten free waffles are for me specifically, because of the small, overlooked fact that any of the other breakfast food in this place will make me very sick.”
“You can’t eat gluten?” Sam asked, looking slightly confused.
“No. I can’t.”
“It’s not a big deal, Tony,” Steve said. “I used those waffles this morning as a treat for Sam, Wanda and I. If you don’t want to eat something else for breakfast you can just buy some more.”
“I did try to say it was your food,” Bruce said, fidgeting slightly, looking between Tony and Steve as if he was afraid a fight would break out.
“You can’t just keep food for yourself in a communal area,” Steve said.
“Come on Steve, he has a dietary thing,” Sam said. “If I’d have known, I’d have told you to use something else.”
“I labelled them as mine,” Tony said.
“Yeah, but I didn’t know it was for a valid reason.”
“You thought I was just being selfish and petty for no reason?”
“If the shoe fits…” Wanda said under her breath.
“Look man, I’m sorry,” Sam said. “Now that I know, I won’t eat your food, okay?”
“No Sam,” Steve said. “We all live here. We all have equal rights to the food in this building.”
“Except not really,” Tony said. “Because I can’t eat most of the food in this building. Which is why it stands to reason that you should leave the food I can actually eat, for me. Besides, I’m the one actually paying for all the food, even stuff I can’t have.”
“You chose to do that, Tony,” Steve said. “It’s wrong of you to hold the fact that you pay for this compound over our heads, when SHIELD could do so easily.”
“And SHIELD are gonna pay for the branded food you all prefer, or the AI that runs through the compound, or the top of the range equipment?” Tony asked. “I don’t think it’s much of an ask for you guys to avoid my gluten free food in exchange for free accommodation, living, training and equipment in the best military compound in the world.”
Tony sighed and turned to leave.
“I guess it’s coffee for breakfast for me.”
It was always a good time having Thor around. He made missions destroying Hydra bases a lot easier, and he made subsequent afterparties a lot more entertaining.
Tony was drinking steadily at one of these afterparties, yet still remained more sober than many of the attendees. One small benefit to years of heavy alcohol use.
He watched as Steve obliged in arm wrestling Thor, laughing good naturedly when he lost, and taking another drink even though the alcohol was doing nothing for him. Thor seemed to notice his sobriety even through his own drunken haze.
“You’re still sober, Friend Steve,” he pointed out.
Steve laughed.
“Yeah,” he said. “The super soldier serum whacked my metabolism up, which means I can’t get drunk. Not with this stuff anyway.”
Thor frowned.
“Your drinks are too weak for you?”
“I guess so, yeah,” Steve said.
“Have no worries,” Thor said. “I brought with me only the finest Asgardian mead. I guarantee you it’s strong enough. I normally wouldn’t offer it to mortals, given the fact that you’re all so small and breakable, but I’m sure a fine soldier such as yourself can handle it.”
“I’m not sure…” Steve said hesitantly.
“Go on Steve, you’re no fun,” jeered Clint. “In fact, I’ll have some as well, Thor.”
Thor laughed but shook his head.
“This is not for mere mortals,” he said.
Clint scoffed.
“I can handle it,” he protested. “I think it would be a fun drinking game if we all had some, and saw how long we could last.”
There were some good natured protests from the others in the room, but no one declined when Thor poured them all generous glasses.
Rhodey shot a quick look at Tony, and even through his drunken haze, he remembered to be cautious.
“Thor, buddy, what’s in this?” Tony asked, holding his drink up to the light, peering at the amber liquid.
“Erm, alcohol,” Thor said, as if Tony had asked the stupidest of questions.
Tony rolled his eyes.
“No, what’s it made out of?”
Thor stared blankly at him.
“Is it made out of fermented grain?”
“I believe it to be, yes,” Thor said slowly. “What does that matter?”
“This isn’t about that gluten bullshit again, is it?” Clint asked loudly.
“It’s not bullshit,” Tony said.
“Oh come on,” Clint replied. “You’re taking it too far now.”
Tony decided to ignore him.
“Thor, I appreciate the offer, but I can’t drink this.”
“Why not?” Thor asked, confused.
“Tony come on,” Steve reprimanded. “Thor has very kindly offered us all a drink. It would be rude to refuse.”
“I assume that this drink contains something that would make me very sick,” Tony explained to Thor, ignoring Steve.
“He just can’t handle his alcohol,” crowed Clint.
“I do not understand,” Thor said. “From what I understand, you usually have no problem drinking alcohol.”
“It’s not the alcohol that’s the problem,” Tony said. “I have this disease-you know what? It doesn’t even matter.” He poured his drink into Rhodey’s glass, ignoring his protests, and stood up.
“Everyone, feel free to continue enjoying the party in my absence. Thor, thank you for your generosity. Bruce, feet off my sofa, and Steve, don’t wreck anything when you get drunk. Thank you, and goodnight.”
With a theatrical, and only slightly sarcastic bow, Tony turned to leave, choosing to ignore the “He’s being so difficult at the moment,” from Steve.
The final straw for Tony came on the morning of one fine summer’s day. He had made sure to hide his gluten free waffles, ensuring him a breakfast, and was rather looking forward to being able to eat something in the comfort of the compound, rather than having to venture out to whichever allergy friendly diner he came across first.
He made himself a coffee, whistling to himself slightly, and then pulled the packet of waffles out from behind the coffee machine, smiling to himself when he counted them all there. He turned around, and his blood ran cold.
His toaster was out. His toaster. The toaster that still bore the sticky note that read “use by Tony Stark only”. The toaster that he kept in the cupboard when he wasn’t using it, in order to avoid it being confused with the three other toasters that remained out on the counter for general use. The toaster that he had bought specifically for himself after his diagnosis, when using the toaster he had previously shared with Pepper gave him such bad stomach pain he couldn’t move for a couple of days.
That toaster.
Moving forwards to inspect it, Tony felt a sinking feeling as his suspicions were confirmed. He could see crumbs at the bottom of the toaster, stuck to the metal grill of the toaster, and a couple on the counter next to the toaster. Tony cringed away from them as if being in physical proximity to it was hurting him.
Great. He had liked this toaster, and now he was going to have to get a new one. He knew living with people would be challenging, but he hadn’t counted on his blood pressure being raised this much. He grabbed his coffee, lamenting his lack of breakfast yet again, and went in search of the culprits.
He found Steve and Wanda sparring in the training room. Steve had offered to help teach Wanda some practical fighting skills, because he apparently didn’t think she was dangerous enough already, and this is what Tony found them doing.
He smirked to himself when Steve caught Wanda off guard with a kick, causing her to lash out with her magic, sending Steve flying into the opposite wall. She started apologising, though not very profusely.
Steve was in the middle of placating Wanda when he caught sight of Tony.
“Oh, hello, Tony,” he said. Wanda turned to face him as well. She did not look as happy to see him as Steve was.
“Did you want to spar as well?” Steve offered.
Tony laughed.
“No,” he said shortly. “Did one of you two use my toaster?”
Steve sighed.
“Tony, this is a shared living area,” he said. “It’s not fair to claim certain items for yourself in a communal area.”
“Actually, Steve, it is fair,” Tony replied. “If I were to use one of the communal toasters, which are used by people eating regular bread, I would be very sick, due to cross contamination. That’s why I have my own toaster, for my own food, which had, and still has a post it note on it denoting it for my use exclusively, so I can safely toast my food without worrying about getting sick. Imagine my surprise when I found it out on the counter this morning, having been used to toast god knows what, thereby rendering it unusable to me.”
“I think you’re being a bit sensitive,” Steve said. “I don’t think sharing a toaster with people is going to make you unwell.”
“Oh yeah?” Tony challenged. “Take it up with my doctor. Regardless, it’s not up to you to decide how bad my health problems are, and it’s not up to you, or whoever it was,” Tony levelled a gaze at Wanda, who stared mulishly back at him. “To ignore the sign on the toaster, and use my personal things because you think I’m being dramatic.”
Wanda rolled her eyes.
“Don’t you think you’re being a little bit petty?” She asked, tilting her head. Tony tilted his head to match hers.
“No,” he said.
“Tony, this doesn’t have to be a big deal,” Steve said, and Tony detected more than a hint of condescension in his voice.
“You’re right, it doesn’t,” Tony said. “I’ll just move out. Problem fixed.”
Steve’s eyes widened in alarm.
“Tony, come on, there’s no need to resort to that.”
“Clearly, my living style, i.e. trying not to get poisoned, is incompatible with everyone else’s living style, i.e. doesn’t care if I get poisoned. So I’m just going to remove myself from a situation where being poisoned is an occupational hazard. Do you have a problem with that?”
“Tony-”
“Actually, no, that was a rhetorical question. I don’t care whether you have a problem with it. I’m not staying here.”
Wanda shot a ‘do something’ look at Steve, who was already doing something, albeit unsuccessfully.
“Oh, and don’t worry,” Tony said, turning to leave. “You’ll still be able to live here on my dime. I know that’s your primary concern right now.” He turned back to them. “I’m just that generous. You’re welcome.”
With that, Tony left.
Six months on, Tony felt more relaxed. He no longer had the worry of potentially being poisoned in his own home, he could eat his gluten free food in peace, and his only contact with the other avengers, bar Bruce, was through Rhodey’s increasingly frustrated tales of life at the compound. As the military liaison, while he didn’t have to live there, he was there more days than not, and spent his days off regaling an amused Tony with complaints of entitled behaviour, disregard for personal safety, and a general misunderstanding of how the world worked.
Tony was happy to experience this through Rhodey in the safety of his workshop, and had little desire to relieve Rhodey of his duties, even for a day.
He was still on edge, however.
Maybe it was general anxiety about the safety of the world. Maybe it was PTSD from the wormhole. Whatever it was, Tony couldn’t shake the feeling that having the avengers split like this was dangerous. Rhodey and Bruce spent time with him, Clint, Sam and Wanda spent time with Steve. Natasha mainly did what she wanted, but that wasn’t news to Tony. There were hard hitters on both sides, and Tony was wary of the potential danger of having a rift in the group. What if there were to be an alien invasion, which he knew was coming, while the group were distant? Tony knew he had his reasons to keep his distance, and he certainly didn’t expect there to be a tight knit friendship, but surely a cordial work relationship was better than nothing? Tony was prepared to have a work relationship with them.
Which is why when a letter came to his home explaining that Steve would like to make amends, and would Tony like to bring Rhodey and Bruce to the compound so they could reconcile over a meal, Tony didn’t immediately decline. He didn’t immediately accept however.
Rhodey immediately declined.
“I spend four days of the week there, Tony, why would I want to go there on one of my days off to have them cook for me? Doesn’t sound like a good time to me. I don’t think you should go either. Do you really trust them to cook for you?”
Bruce took some convincing.
“I don’t know Tony. I’m not a big fan of Wanda, and I know you’ve had some differences with Steve and some of the others.”
“Please, Brucey-Bear?” Tony wheedled, batting his eyelids. “I don’t want to go on my own.”
Bruce sighed.
“Alright. As long as you never call me that again. I also think you should be careful,” he said, gesturing vaguely at Tony. “You know, with your eating thing.”
Tony raised an eyebrow.
“My eating thing?”
“Yeah.”
“You make it sound like I have some sort of disorder. It’s just a serious immune disease that’s triggered by a very common and often hidden ingredient in most food that if left untreated could give me cancer. Nothing to worry about.”
Bruce looked at him.
“Right. I’m just saying-”
“I know,” Tony said resignedly. “I’ll make sure they accommodate me. I’m sure they’ll all have a grumble at how difficult I’m being, but hey, they’re the ones who want to kiss and make up.”
“Exactly,” Bruce said. “When is this, by the way?”
“Oh,” Tony said, and looked at his watch. “Two hours? Two hours and twenty minutes if we want to be fashionably late.”
“Two hours, are you kidding?” Bruce asked incredulously.
“Two hours and twenty minutes,” Tony corrected.
Two hours and twenty two minutes later, Tony pulled up outside the Avengers compound in his very stylish new car, even if he did say so himself. Bruce, who was sitting in the passenger seat, was less impressed.
“You’re an awful driver,” he muttered.
“What was that?” Tony asked, feigning deafness and cupping his ear.
“I said you’re an awful driver,” Bruce repeated.
“Such a charmer,” Tony said. “Come on then,” he said, getting out of the car.
“Oh look, a welcome party,” Tony said under his breath, noticing the small group stood outside the compound. “Good.”
“Tony,” Steve said, stepping forward, and holding out his hand for Tony to shake. “It’s good to see you. We’ve missed having you around.”
“Uh huh,” Tony said. “Good to see you too.” He looked past Steve to the others. “Same goes for you guys, Sam, Clint,” Tony paused. “Wanda.”
He received a handshake from Sam, a nod from Clint, and a stony stare from Wanda.
“Natasha not joining us?” Bruce asked.
“Natasha will be,” came a voice from behind them.
Tony and Bruce turned to see Natasha leaning against a motorcycle, helmet in hand. Tony was privately very impressed at the way she had managed to modify her bike to sneak up on them. He wouldn’t tell her that, though.
“You don’t live here?” Bruce asked.
Natasha wrinkled her nose and shook her head.
“Military compound full of guys doesn’t exactly appeal to me. No offence,” she said smoothly, walking past them. “Are we eating some time soon or what?” She asked.
“Yes, of course,” Steve said, ever the gracious host in a building paid for by Tony.
“You made sure it’s all gluten free for Mr Picky over here, didn’t you?” Natasha asked, sending Tony a wink.
Tony rolled her eyes. She could mock him all she wanted, at least she respected his illness. That was something at least.
“Yeah man, don’t worry,” Sam said, turning to face Tony. Tony could see the sincerity on his face. “I cooked the pasta, so I made sure to make you some separately. It was damn expensive though! Good job you’re rich so you can afford it,” he chucked awkwardly.
Tony gave him a tight smile.
Bruce seemed nervous around Wanda, so Tony made sure to place himself between the two when they were seated. Wanda, for her part, seemed content to ignore the two of them.
There was a significant amount of tension in the air. Tony silently helped himself to pasta from the small bowl that Sam had handed him.
“So,” Steve said, the others apparently content to let him handle the diplomacy. “We had some issues in the early days of us living in the compound, and we just wanted to invite you here, so that we could apologise for our part in the disagreements. Hopefully we can put it all behind us.”
Tony nodded.
“Thank you, Steve.”
He took a bite of pasta, and noticed Steve looking at him expectantly.
“Was there something else?” Tony asked. He winced slightly, and put a hand on his stomach.
Steve glanced at Clint.
“Well, disagreements are a two way thing,” Steve said, clearly attempting to be tactful.
“They are,” Tony said. The pain in his stomach intensified.
“So we wanted an apology from you as well. Just so we can put this whole thing behind us.”
Tony stared at him.
“You want me to apologise for…not letting myself be poisoned?”
“Tony, I think we can all admit that emotions got the better of us sometimes.”
“Yeah, because I was trying to avoid being poisoned!” Tony said incredulously.
“Steve,” Sam said, shaking his head when Steve caught his eye.
Steve sighed.
“Never mind, Tony,” he said reproachfully.
There was a long pause. Tony wasn’t interested in conversation, and the pain in his stomach was distracting him anyway.
“This is really nice,” Bruce said, in a completely transparent attempt to change the subject. “Did you make all this, Sam?”
“Thanks Bruce,” Sam said, smiling. “I made most of it. Steve did the sauce. Said his mom taught him how.”
“It’s a really nice sauce,” Bruce said.
Steve smiled.
“It’s simple really,” he said. “Just butter, milk, flour and some garlic.”
Tony felt his heart stop.
“Excuse me?”
Everyone stared at him.
“What is it, Tony?” Steve asked, looking concerned.
“Flour?”
“Yes,” Steve said.
“Wheat flour?”
“…yes,” Steve said, looking at him as if he was talking nonsense.
“So there’s gluten in this?” Tony demanded.
Sam looked at Steve with horror.
“It’s the smallest amount,” Steve said. “It can’t possibly hurt you.”
Tony clutched his stomach.
“Are you kidding me?”
Clint rolled his eyes.
“You invite me here to apologise, and you end up poisoning me?”
“He didn’t poison you, don’t be dramatic,” Clint said.
“Oh yeah? Well currently my insides are being destroyed by the sauce he made and assured me was safe, so yeah, I think he did poison me.”
Tony stood up.
“Fuck this,” he said, and turned to leave.
Bruce stood up as well, putting a hand on Tony’s back as he clutched his abdomen.
“You okay? Do you need to go to hospital?” He asked.
Tony shook his head.
“Not right now. Hopefully not at all.”
Tony was almost out of the door when he heard Wanda reprimanding Steve.
“We need him on our good side!” She hissed.
Tony turned and laughed.
“She’s right, you know,” he said. “Are you worried I’m going to stop funding you to mess with my food?”
Wanda stared at him.
“You should be.”
Three days later, Pepper held a press conference.
“Tony Stark has been moved to hospital over an abundance of caution, due to a serious illness as a result of being poisoned. Tony has allowed me to reveal to you his diagnosis of Coeliac Disease, an extreme immune response to gluten. While accepting the hospitality of some members of the Avengers team, Tony was given food containing gluten and lied to about it. Subsequently, he suffered an attack, and is in hospital being monitored. He is expected to make a full recovery. Tony hopes that he can raise awareness about this disease, and that he can inspire people living with it, as well as other dietary restrictions, to be proactive about their health, and to stand up for themselves. Moving forwards, the funding for Steve Rogers’, Wanda Maximoff’s and Clint Barton’s equipment, training and accommodation that was previously provided by Stark International, has been ceased. No questions at this time.”
The online response was fast and furious. People were sympathising with Tony, sharing their own experiences, sending vitriol towards Steve in particular.
“Do you think Captain America even knows what gluten is?” One user asked.
“He’s been awake for years,” wrote another. “He can’t claim ignorance forever. Especially not about the medical condition of his teammate.”
A few days later, Tony joined the online conversation.
“As far as poisonings go, I’ve had worse,” he tweeted. “Can this be counted as an assassination attempt? A very slow acting one. I guess we have to wait until I die of something to find out. In other news, SI is branching out into a gluten free breakfast food range. First up: waffles.”