Silver Death

Ice Cream Freak Out

When I woke up-or came too, take your pick- the watch shifts had switched at least once and now in the chair near my head sat Tony.

Of course he wasn't paying much attention to me but the tablet in his hands, typing and swiping on it. Once in awhile he would press his thumb to the screen for a print. Possibly for access or just out of frustration. With Tony you never know. He's a very odd ball.

After a few minutes of watching him I grow bored and move my head to look around there room.

The Peter boy is working on something via computer. He can type extremely quick, maybe from his spider senses,  just self taught or taught through school. Who knows, who cares.

Looking back at Tony I speak as loudly as I can, even though it still sounds as if as if I'm muttering, "what's he working on?"
"Yo Pete, what you working on? Anything to do with the lady and the churro?" Churro lady?
"Actually it's for school." I can hear that sass Parker.
"What class?"
"Science."
"Okay. Ask if you need help." Don't even go there Anthony Stark.

"Are you trying to be his father figure Tony?"
"You're just imagining things."
"Must be the sleeping aids."
His eyebrows shoot up in surprise "those worked?"
"Please say, that Bruce left those for me not you."
"I'll be over there." With that he stands and crosses the lab.

Well, guess Bruce didn't leave me those oh so helpful sleeping aids and that Tony did. Whatever, they worked and are still somewhat working. It's nap time.

It's not much as it was just sleeping for a half hour then waking up repeatedly, and it wasn't restful but it was still sleep.

Between the short periods of sleep while I was awake I watched people moving about and had a brief mind conversation with Vision about where Wanda might be. Watched as my daughter poked Parker awake from where he was asleep on a keyboard, had a quick chat with some agent named Coulson before we heard footsteps and had to go before he got caught being tardy and of course watched as Bruce took more blood from my leg to do work on. All in a span of three hours and ten minutes. Or so FRIDAY says, and when has she ever been wrong?

Wonder when that memory fixing machine is going to get here, and when I'm going to be given a shirt. Hopefully the shirt comes soon, I would really hope that happens soon. I mean with the amount of people that have been through here and seen me in just a sports top is rather ridiculous.

James comes in just as I wake back up the fifth or sixth time, and talked with him. When I asked who Coulson was he claimed he didn't know but said someone would find out for me. Most likely FRIDAY.

By five in the afternoon I was sick of the table I'm on.

"Bruce, I hate being stuck in here. Can I get jail broke soon?"
"Yah, give me a minute." He pulls the wires off of me, and takes the IV out of my arm.
"What were in those sleeping pills?"
"No idea. Tony was working on them."
"I thought you left them."
"No. Sit up." Following commands like I always do, without me paying attention he shoves me off the table sideways.

I don't hit the floor, instincts take over and one foot hits the floor and the other comes up, spinning me around into a standing position. "What was that for?"
"Checking your reflexes."
"Isn't that done with like a hammer hitting my knee or something?"
With a small smile to his clipboard- so professionally doctor of him- he responds in a light and airy tone "It was also for fun."

That makes more sense. "Can I leave now?"
"Sure, but maybe grab a shirt from the closet over there." He points to a closet that I hadn't noticed before. "Who knows what people would take a chance to gawk at someone with your stature and muscles." With that he leaves the lab. So much for me asking what he meant by that.