"You're telling me that you got Captain America-the War Hero, Steve Rogers-to become best friends with a thirteen-year-old kid? What, is this supposed to slowly introduce him to how irritating Generation Z is? Project Training Wheels or something?"
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If there is one sound Lizzie Carter should be used to, it was the beeping of a heart monitor. Specifically, her own. Of all the senses, her hearing was the first to return. When she registered what the soundwas, the last thing she wanted to do was open her eyes and see the visual of the injuries that led her here. She could already tell something was wrong with her leg—considering she couldn't move it—but also noted that it hurt when she breathed too hard. Her sides ached, almost like she'd had an entire building collapse on her. The reminder prompted the thought of Peter Parker, and she could hear the way her heart rate spiked at the thought of him. Was he alive? Surely, he had to have survived the debris if she had without any super-healing. But surely, he wouldn't have stopped just because a building got dropped on them by the bad guy. So his fate was left unknown, and that did not made her nausea go away.
Lizzie squeezed her eyes, then she opened them in the same second to face the bright lights of whatever hospital was being added to her medical record. But it was night, and the only light in her room was a television mounted to the wall ahead playing the Discovery Channel. Kings County Hospital, she recognized, because she had been at this hospital when she was six and broke her ankle in gymnastics. Again, at eleven, when she broke it again playing centerfield. There was some bitter irony when she looked down at her left leg to find no visible skin from her ankle to the top of her thigh. A soft-casting, she realized. Broken leg. She stared for a while, already calculating the percentage she had of getting back to softball after an injury like this. How bad was it? She couldn't feel anything but pain.
She couldn't sit up any further, but she was propped in a way that allowed her to constrict her lungs without added pressure. Breathing tubes were in her nose, which meant she needed oxygen. When she tested out moving, a searing pain shot through both of her sides and she sucked in a sharp, quiet breath. Broken ribs, she'd added, and she finally acknowledged her arms for the first time.
