Southern Drawls and New York Fist Fights

We All Hate Hospitals

"How long was I out?"
"Three days."

-Harley-

A week or two later, I stared at the ceiling. Sunlight bathed the room a golden yellow, it wasn't the same. It was dulled, not as happy as the sunlight that FRIDAY always filtered out when I first woke up in the mornings at the tower.

Loud footsteps coming up the stairs had me sitting up, my ribs burning at the motion. The door to 'my room' was opened with enough force that it bounced off the wall with a resonating bang. My father glared at me, blue eyes cold and harsh.

"Are y'a gonna get up and make breakfast or lay there all day bein' lazy?" He grumbled.

"I'm coming." I said. He turned, stomping back down the stairs. There was no way I would be able to get out of the house to go to the police. My only chance was to call them here, and that was still pretty slim since my father had me on pretty close supervision.

I slipped out of bed, avoiding the floor boards that creaked easily and headed downstairs. My mother was nowhere to be found, and my father sat at the table with a cup of coffee reading a newspaper. He had always been weird about electronics, even if it was a more efficient way of getting news.

I stayed silent as I made eggs and toast, something simple and quick. The sooner I could get back to my room to figure out how to get the police here, the better.

Without a reasonable distraction while making my father breakfast, my brain chose to instead focus on how much my face hurt. After being here for the small time I was, I had been left with a nasty black eye, a bruised jaw and multiple other bruises littering my body.

My father ignored me as I set the food in front of him and headed back upstairs to my room.

I shut the door and pulled my phone out from under my pillow, quickly opening my text messages. If I could send something to Clint, or anybody really, they could send the police. I opened Clint's contact and hit the message button.

Harley: I can't make a call, can you?
Clint: Police?
Harley: Yes
Clint: Tony's on it. What happened? How bad is it?

Before I could reply my door was opened. I yelped, spinning around. My father was once again stood there, this time looking very unimpressed. I stared at him, eyes wide with fear. Subconsciously, I turned off my phone.

"What were you doin'?" He grumbled.

"Nothin'." I said quickly. His eyebrows raised.

"Gimme that thing." I swallowed but handed him my phone, watching as he managed to turn it on and fail to unlock it. "Why the hell do you have a pass code on it? You hidin' somethin' boy?"

Oh, just that the police should be here any moment.

"No."

"Don't lie to me." I stumbled back as he shoved me, landing on the ground hard. I winced at the burning pain it caused, tears coming to my eyes. "No one likes a liar boy."

"I'm sorry." I whispered.

"Don't try and get me to pity you."

I curled in on myself, trying to protect my face and head from his blows. The pain was overwhelming. Someone pulled him off, and I saw EMS and police before black over took my vision.

I awoke to beeping, jerking up to a sitting position and looking around, there was distinct pain in many places over my body which I ignored at that moment so I could take in my surroundings. A hospital room, I realized.

Tony was asleep in a chair near me. It looked like he would have a sore neck when he woke up. The door opened and my head snapped over, a sense of panic automatically spiking my heart rate.

A doctor walked in, smiling gently.

"Gave us quite the scare when EMS brought you in." She said, checking things on the moniter and a different screen. I followed her movements slowly. "Your friend sorted everything out with the police and the court, when you are released you'll be heading home with him." I glanced back over to the sleeping billionaire, noting that he was wearing sunglasses and a hat. I looked back at the doctor.

"Do you know who he is?" I asked, she looked at me, eyebrows creased.

"Are you suffering from memory loss? Can you tell me your birthday?" She asked.

"No, no, I know who he is. I'm asking if you do." I quickly amended. The doctor shook her head.

"No, I don't, only that he hasn't left your side since you were allowed visitors and another guy in a mask and hat will join him occasionally." I nodded, surprised Tony's 'disguise' actually worked.

"When- when can I leave?"

"As long as your feeling well and your vitals hold for the next hour, by noon."

I glanced around for a clock and saw one on the wall. It was currently 9:34 in the morning. "How long was I out?"

"Three days."

Oh. Okay then. I nodded, settled back into my bed and tried to go back to sleep.

I failed, instead staring at the ceiling as the doctor checked a few more things before leaving. I glanced over at the door when it opened again, the person she had described before slipping inside. He turned around and jumped when he saw I was sitting up.

"Jeezus christ kid." Clint muttered as he took off the mask and pulled his hood down. I smirked, despite the pain it caused in my face.

"Getting old, Clint?" I asked.

"Shut it. You scared us half to death."

"Sorry." Clint shook his head as I looked down, picking at the hospital blanket.

"Don't apologize."

"Wha-?" Came a very tired voice from my other side. Tony had woken up. "Who's apologizing?"

"Harley, like the idiot he is." Tony fell onto the floor in his scramble to get into a regular sitting position. I snickered and Clint shook his head.

"Holy fucking shit- kid you scared me so bad. I have a heart condition! My god, never again. I am going to wrap you in bubble wrap and then get Peter to web you to the ceiling." I rolled my eyes, looking down at the IV in my arm.

"Can I leave early?" I asked before Tony could continue his dramatic rant. "I hate hospitals."

"We all do." Clint said. "I think you and Tony would have to sign something, then you can. I'll go ask." He left before I could object and Tony stared at the shut door.

"He forgot his mask." Tony said. I looked to where he was pointing, and, sure enough, his mask was sitting on the end of the bed.

"Oh. This will be fun."

"It'll be fine, just sign the forms, get to the car and we are home free." I grinned.

"It's never that easy when any of you guys are involved."

"One can dream, kid."

"Are we still in Tennessee?"

"Yes, some hospital in Knoxville. The quinjet is half an hour from here, we'll get there quick." Tony said and I nodded. Clint came back in the room followed by the doctor from before, who was holding a clipboard and looking slightly stunned.

"Uh- so you will have to sign these." She said, sounding winded. I barely fought down my laugh, instead signing the spots I had to and then giving the clipboard to Tony so he could do the same.

By 10:17 we were on the quinjet and heading back to New York. Back home. Clint had gotten my stuff from that house while I was passed out at some point, and I pulled out one of Peter's hoodies while he flew, pulling it on and leaning back into the seat. My whole body was thrumming with pain and my head was throbbing, I really needed some sort of pain killers.

"Are there pain killers at the tower?" I asked about half way there when the pain was starting to get worse.

"I'll tell Bruce to get an IV ready." Tony said. I just nodded, closing my eyes and slowly dozing off.