The Runaway Distance: Life of a Little Stark

23) Hanging By A Thread

The surgery was complicated. You couldn't remember much of it.

Everything was blurry when it happened, moving in slow motion as Dr. Cho's assistant carried you up to the lab. They both tried to keep you awake by asking questions and giving reassurance but it felt as if nothing could ground you anymore. It was too much.

You remembered whimpering as you were placed on a sterile table and immediately plugged into machines and an IV.

"I'm sorry, (Y/n), I know it hurts." Dr. Cho apologized. "We're going to have to operate now. The bullets can't stay there."

You had nodded, understanding. "Just do it."

Then the mask had been placed over the bottom half of your face, allowing you to breathe just that little bit easier as you handed your life into their hands.

Time was in a flux again. It always seemed to be lately. Too fast or too slow, varying in the middle, but never constant.

Dr. Cho had soon removed the bullet from your shoulder, noticing the blinking and recognizing it as a tracer. It didn't matter now, everyone already knew where you were. She had then moved on to the real problem.

The bullet in your abdomen.

Her assistant monitored your vitals and handed the necessary equipment over while Dr. Cho got to work. It was a delicate process and one wrong move could have killed you there on the spot. Thankfully, she managed to find the bullet alright.

But there was a problem.

It had split open - which was bad enough - but it was leaking. It was a dark and murky liquid and looked much like a poison. It certainly smelled like one. It had already mixed with your blood by then and without any hope of at least identifying the substance, Dr. Cho knew it was futile to hope for a cure.

You didn't have much time.

-

You couldn't hear or see much.

Whatever darkness you were in, it actually felt quite nice. There was minimal pain, it was peaceful, and things seemed okay.

There was a rhythmic beeping in the back of your mind. It seemed to be getting louder with each spike. You knew you were hanging on by a thread.

Thoughts were swirling around in your head and twisting your mind, warping its perception of the present situation into something that didn't seem so bad. It was as if you knew you didn't have long, and yet your mind was telling you it was okay.

It was just too much. The pure agony of trying to stay strong when no one knows how bad it really is was the worst kind of pain. That was why the darkness felt so appealing.

Alongside the beeping, you soon started to hear a voice. It was muffled and distorted at first and you couldn't make it out very well, but as the person spoke more and more you began to realize it sounded like Clint.

You were glad he was okay at least because he seemed like a nice guy. You tried to focus on his words and it slowly brought you back to consciousness.

"Yes, sir." He was saying. "That's what they told me... Sure... I'll keep you updated."

At this point you managed to figure out where he was. He was sitting at your bedside and had just put down a phone. It sounded like an important call, probably to someone like Fury. Your vision still wasn't at its best and you had strain to see him clearly.

"Agent Barton?" You asked.

Your voice sounded weak and it was taking everything just to muster those simple words.