It's the Little Things

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The events that transpired after the so-called "Civil War", named so eloquently by the media, seemed to pass like a fog through his mind. Tony couldn't tell you exactly what happened, only that one minute he was lying on the ground in a deserted bunker in Siberia, then everything faded to a familiar black.

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Tony opened his eyes after what seemed like an eternity, but immediately shut them again when faced with a blinding white room. It took a couple tries, but he managed to get them open. After determining that he was, in fact, in a hospital, Tony breathed out a sigh of relief. He wasn't entirely sure what happened, but he could have sworn he saw someone approaching him before he completely blacked out.


Waking up in a hospital though was par for the course in the life of Iron Man. Whether it was the S.H.I.E.L.D. medical bay, or Stark Tower's own medical facility, or just the closest hospital someone could bring him to, Tony was familiar with all of it. He thought that by now he could administer his own medication at this point, and diagnose his own symptoms. He said as much to Pepper once, and only received a stern look and a scoff before continuing to lecture him about his terrible irresponsibility at getting injured yet again.


Tony began to take an inventory of everything that he could see and feel. He could feel the familiar pain in his chest that told of bruising and fractured ribs, which were never fun. He could feel his left arm had gotten worse than it had before... well, before everything, and it was back in a brace. Moving on, his face felt a bit stiff, but after careful movement of his jaw, he concluded that nothing was actually broken. The worst pain he could feel, however, was in his chest around the reactor. They must have done a lot more damage than he had initially anticipated. The old anger was back when he started thinking about the whole situation. And this time, it was also directed at himself. He should have known that getting them to fight was the plan all along. He should have known that Zemo was trying to manipulate him and his emotions. It wasn't the first time that someone tried to do so, use his emotions to further their own goals, it was common practice in the business world. However, Tony was smarter than that, should have been, and yet... how could he not react that way? With a shake of his head (and didn't that hurt to?) Tony dismissed the storm cloud over his head and put it aside for later.


Having had enough of sitting around with his thoughts, Tony found the button to call the nurse and pressed it, then sat back and waited for someone to come. He made a mental note to ask for some ice, his throat really hurt.


It only took a minute for someone to walk through the door off to his left. Tony could have sworn the nurse was a saint, for she already had a cup of ice chips in her hand. This was definitely not her first rodeo.


"How are you feeling, Mr. Stark?" the nurse asked as she placed the cup on a tray next to his bed. He gave it a wistful glance, and taking the hint, the nurse spooned out a chip and fed it to him. The ice melted instantly and soothed his severely dry throat. After giving it a couple chews, Tony swallowed the rest of it and finally attempted to speak, now that his throat didn't burn like one of the seven circles.


"Sore, but what else is new? The ice certainly helps, thank you by the way," Tony rasped, and immediately tried to grab for more ice. However, his wrist protested the quick movement with a slight pinch. Tony frowned, and slowly moved his hand again, which was a much better alternative. The nurse watched with a careful eye how Tony picked up the cup and began to shovel more ice into his mouth.

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