Lamborghini | Tony Stark

FORTY ONE - ALONE

"Mr Stark? You can go in now."

Tony's head snapped up from the white tiled floor of the hospital waiting room when a nurse called his name.

The ticking of a clock had driven him insane and coerced him to begin to dive deeper into the concept of how quickly life and time move, despite the hours he'd been sat waiting that had felt more like days.

Fury had met him in the waiting room after Sasha had been taken in for some tests, saying nothing as he took a seat beside an equally silent Tony.

The two of them were both hurting and relieved at the same time, grateful that Sasha was alive and safe, though aching furiously that neither of them could've prevented the whole ordeal from happening in the first place.

Nick Fury felt responsible for Sasha Coulson and although Phil had never once asked for him to watch over his sister should anything happen, Fury knew that it would've been what he'd wanted.

Sasha was more than capable of taking care of herself, that much was proven. The sad thing was, her safety and security had only seemed to decline once she opened up her arms and her life to other people, which was the one thing she'd sworn off doing since losing her brother.

Nick had left Tony with a pat on the back and a mumbling of something beneath his breath, realising that there was a conversation between Sasha and Tony that was both inevitable and imminent.

Fury felt the way Sasha had clung to him, he'd seen the relief on the poor girl's face at the sight of a saviour walking into the warehouse, and he also saw that she didn't look at Tony the same way she looked at him. There was no exasperation, no elation at seeing the man she loved, no overwhelming emotions or tears, no desire to touch or be touched by hands that she should've wanted to hold for safety.

Something had changed in Sasha that Fury had noticed, and Tony had noticed too.

The walk down the corridor towards the hospital room was long. The white walls were dull and bland, making Tony's eyes blurry as he tried to keep his mind quiet for just a few moments.

He finally reached Sasha's room, reading her name that had been messily scrawled on a whiteboard pinned to the wooden door. The blinds were almost fully closed but he could just make out her figure sitting on the edge of the bed, staring out over New York.

He couldn't see much of her but he paused for a moment to stare, having a terrible gut feeling that his world was about to crumble like sand and fall between his fingertips.

Sasha turned to look at the visitor when she heard the sound of the door opening, wanting to serve a smile though being unable to change her sealed lips.

Tony looked tired. His under eyes were dark and the whites that once gleamed were dull. His radiant smile and flushed cheeks were nowhere to be seen, replaced only by a haunting shadow beneath his cheekbones and a frown that echoed worry and fear, a knowing glaze over his eyes that told Sasha he knew what was about to happen, though hoped that for once he'd be wrong.

"What'd the doctor say?"

Tony cleared his throat and walked around in front of Sasha, folding his arms at his chest and leaning against the window. New York was sunny then, a cloudless sky that flooded the city with a bright blue hue that most people would've been happy to bask in, only Tony felt like a rainstorm would've been more fitting.

"He said I'm fine. Couple of cracked ribs and a concussion, nothing I haven't had before. Discharged me, too."

Sasha shrugged her shoulders once as she clutched a black overcoat that was laid across her lap, one that Tony recognised belonged to Nick Fury. She was no longer in the clothes she was wearing when they'd found her, instead she was dressed in dull pair of cotton pyjamas the nurses had given her. Tony knew she'd never had picked those out herself.