fe_male | memeboxing

[ That sounds like our next thread right there. Tell me I'm wrong.

He does smile a little bit, a quirk of one side of his mouth, because he likes it when people treat JARVIS like he's a person. It makes him feel good. Basically the same thing a normal person would get if they saw their baby interacting positively with the world around it, but it's long since been established that Tony Stark has a somewhat skewed sense of what is strictly alive and what isn't.

He moves just enough to reach them where he set the painkillers down behind him on a table, twisting with one arm out to snatch them up and then lean over her to properly administer them, because they are like all truly good painkillers, the needley kind. He doesn't ask her if she's ready, or where she prefers, just a slight jab and then hopefully the cooling sensation of detachment from pain will take over anything else. He does keep talking though. ] I promise that after you can move your arms without bleeding I will run you into the wall and sex you senseless, how's that? Delayed gratification is about the best I can offer at the moment. [ Moving to pull it up just a bit more - it needs to stay up of it's own accord, so he has to fold it back a fair deal. And then start to try and gently clean the wound to get a proper look. For someone who hammers and welds and has callouses on his hands, he can have a surprisingly gentle touch, which he is utilizing right now, cleaning. ]

[ I can't tell you you're wrong because I actually think you're right.

She doesn't like painkillers, in general. They cloud her brain too much, she's always reacted strongly to them and she hates not having control over what she says or does. But yeah, she's more than happy to take them right now. Tony's got her. She's safe, she doesn't have to be in control right now. She can just stay still and let the drugs run into her system, taking things aside. It's a great feeling, especially when it comes without attendant anxiety over reaction times slowing and safety. ]

That a promise? [ Light, better able to be amused now that she's slowly feeling like the pain genuinely is just in another moment. Somewhere else. His hands are gentle and she can still feel his concern, realizes belatedly that her shields aren't really working that well. ] This is just payback for that time you broke your ribs and I said no sex. Isn't it.

[ He had a feeling she mightn't, yes. But right now, painkillers are a very very good thing. He's felt the shields for a little while now, but his own are working relatively well - as long as she's not getting too much from him, and she seems to be okay, he can handle it until the immediate crisis is over.

Tony moves a light so he can see a little better once she seems to mellow out a little with the drug. He's trying to clean it without actually having to be too invasive about it - he can tell that fixing it entirely is likely going to require some amount of stitching - unless. When he replies, he's got that slightly distracted tone that typically accompanies his having more of his attention on what he's working on. ] Yes it is. I've just been waiting for a chance to pay you back for that one. How well is that local anesthetic working? Have you noticed any other injuries? [ He's quickly glanced her over, putting senses to work, but just noticed scratches and the swelling that accompanies normal bruising. He'd need a more in depth look or some sort of scanner - or to watch her moving around - to notice anything beyond that. ]

[ No wonder he didn't ask her if she had a preference for where. Sometimes she really thinks he understands her too well. He's too intuitive about her, but then so is she about him. Turn and turn about. She guesses that's fair, but that doesn't mean she always appreciates it.

She's okay with that tone, though, because what he's working on is, well, fixing her. Which is something she'd highly prefer wasn't necessary but if it is she's just glad he's okay enough with fixing her himself that no hospitals are necessary. She hates hospitals. ] Ribs are bruised on the left. Head hurts. Fingers on my right hand went against a railing, might just be bruised or it might be something more. He was - kind of an asshole. [ And she wanted to stay alive, and even if all he wanted was a hostage she had instincts that screamed worse at her. So now he's dead, and she's listing out injuries clinically because she knows the value of a good situational awareness. ] Nothing too bad. [ She's alive, isn't she? ]

[ There are a lot of things they both appreciate and vaguely resent about the other, I think. Both with a liberal amount of intellectual understanding to make them palatable in either direction. It works out well for them, since neither one of them ever actually volunteers any amount of helpful or meaningful personal information.

A few years ago he would have immediately sent her to a hospital, but now, he understands the problems involved with them, the drastic level of exposure and discomfort, and he's gotten pretty good and well read about a number of medical aspects, so he figures he's as good a help as anyone else, up to a certain extent. ] Your head hurts like you have a headache or your head hurts because there's a physical injury to the cranium? [ Ignoring the asshole comment, tamping down on that instinctive overprotectiveness, and it's probably a good thing she killed that guy because he certainly would have otherwise. ] Let me see your hand. How much can you move it? If that's actually the extent of the issue then you should be okay relatively quickly. The ribs'll be a bitch but you already know that.

[ Sometimes it's nice to be understood without needing to say something, and sometimes - sometimes it's the exact opposite of what you want, even if it might be what you need.

Her dislike of hospitals isn't entirely rational, particularly here where her identity being known isn't likely to lead to her immediate arrest anymore, but there's still enough of it that it would in some ways be detrimental to a healing process to be in one. Stress is not an effective medicine. ] Please, even distracted by everyone panicking there's no way he would have gotten me down an alley without hitting me on the head. [ Not really an answer, but painkillers do tend to do that to her. Make things slightly more unreal and distant, the things she says just slightly out of touch. And no matter how much she regrets having killed again, she'd still far rather it was her than him. ] I can move it mostly. Not the ring finger. See? Told you I'd be good. And you were worried about me dying, oh ye of little faith. [ Words just a little slurred. She's stopped bleeding, therefore she would like to submit to the jury that she is totally fine now. ]

[ Tony smirks a little as she replies, because, yes, that's true, but he just wanted to make sure, okay. He moves delicate hands over the area he thinks was hit, getting a gauge for how bad it is and then momentarily attuning his senses to it as well. A hard knock to the head, but no intercranial swelling, or the like. Nothing dangerous. He couldn't even smell the tell-tale bruising that would have accompanied a concussion. Just one, really hard whallop that she was going to keep feeling for a few weeks yet.

The hand... Probably needed splinting, and he was going to have to glue the original cut, but she was quite talkative. ] Yeah, not too bad. This finger needs a bit more support, but the others are all just bruised. If I go and get something from another table, you're not going to just spontaneously roll off this one, right? [ And hey, a little levity. Always a good thing. ]

[ She does fall silent for his examination, momentarily, because she knows he'll be using his senses and it would be bad form to just keep chattering with them on high. She knows that much. But talking just seems like the easy and natural thing to do, which she does know is the painkillers because that's not even a slightly normal feeling on her part. ]

I think I'm capable of staying firmly on the table. No moving. I'd pinkie promise but that would hurt. [ But her eyes are fixed firmly on him, and she falls silent as soon as he moves away at all. It's important. Him not being out of reach is probably the most important thing she can think of right now. Maybe the only really important thing. ]

[ That's reasonably reassuring, okay. He looks at her another few moments, and then swiftly leaves to return a few minutes later with something that looks pretty polished. ]

You good? Everything's still... How it was, right? No drastic changes?

[ She tracks his movement carefully, reaches out carefully with her mind once he's not in sight anymore, verification that he's still nearby. When he comes back in she relaxes visibly, still watching him. ]

I'm all good. [ reconsidering. ] Been a lot worse. The painkillers are working pretty well.

[ He tries to stay within her field of vision as much as he can, chatting idly when he knows he is no longer in sight, just to make sure she knows he's still there - it's the sort of thing he would have appreciated were he in her current position, so. It doesn't take him long to return with the item in question - polished, very Tony Stark-looking, all things told. ]

Good. Let me know if you need - or, her, if you just want more. I don't judge. Not much, anyway. And between me and you, I'd want all the painkillers. I'm going to try and seal that gash now, okay? Might be a bit chilly.

[ The thing he brought is aimed, rather like a gun would be, at the far end of the cut across her torso, and he activates it, allowing some goopy stuff to thinly coat the cut itself, all the way across the wound. Thus done, he looks at it somewhat quizzically, and then after twenty seconds have passed, he pokes it likely. ] Looks like it held. Hey, good news - no actual stitches.

[ Reason #234945 he is her favorite ever. She doesn't answer his idle chatter, but it helps. The thing he brings back gets nothing more than a glance, watching him instead. Always him. ]

I don't like painkillers more than I have to. [ Casually. One dose was - well, he hadn't actually asked her, but she would have said yes, everything had kind of hurt a lot and she was safe. More than that she wasn't too keen on.

She watches him throughout the process, laughs just a little when he pokes it because a) painkillers b) it's familiar and nice and she's still alive. That's pretty cool. ] Maybe that'll cut down on scarring. I don't need any more of those.

[ He didn't ask her because he did need her at least coherent and leveled enough to tell him anything important, and a brain in pain is not a particularly rational one.

The actual comment about painkillers is one he can't quite tell the appropriate reaction for, so he opts for the more playful: ] Yeah, you're a weirdo. [ It's a bit safer anyway. More familiar.

The laughter though, that's actually very nice to hear. He himself perks up a bit at that, because laughter, sure, okay, this might all be okay. ] I'm told chicks dig scars. Is that some sort of urban myth? Chicks dig scars only on other people, maybe. A kind of corollary. You want a lollipop? I can probably find one. Or a sticker. You just did such a good job.

[ Hers is totally rational in pain, okay, she's had a lot of training in this. (It is still not as rational as she would like.)

She rolls her eyes. ] Your face is a weirdo. [ Sticking her tongue out too for good measure. Drugs, man. ]

Totally a corollary. It's an inherent contradiction thing, but it's still true. Scars look good on everyone else. Dashing, even. [ She blinks, looks at him and frowns for a moment. ] Just to clarify, I'm definitely not dying?

[ The look he is giving you. He is so unimpressed with you right now. And so so amused. Payback's a bitch just handing your friends all the blackmail material they could ever want. Although really she doesn't seem too bad, in his opinion. He'll just poke her in the side that's numbed again.

Oh, look, seriousness. ] Far as I can tell. You lost a lot of blood though, so you need to take it easy a couple of days. Drink a few gallons of water and stuff - you'll be really dehydrated. And maybe get some sort of vitamin supplement I guess. But no dying.

[ Hey. Hey, she lost a lot of blood and then you gave her the good stuff, blackmail at this point would be a really terrible use of anything she might happen to do. And she is doing pretty well, she's doing great. She would like to think she's doing fantastically, personally. Her gaze flickers down to his finger as he pokes her, eyes narrowing as she looks back up at him. ] If you think you can just get away with stuff because I'm hurt you're in for a surprise.

[ Yeah, well, minorly. Partially she did have a moment of temporary panic back there and thought of a shitload of things she'd never said to him but wanted to someday, but they were all the kinds of things you can't say to somebody if you're going to die because that's a genuinely shitty thing to do to someone. At least in her estimation it is. ] Well, awesome. Thank you, Doctor Stark, pleasure being in your care, can I get up now?

[ She laughed at him last time his drugs got him high. It only seems fair. ]

What are you gonna do to stop me? You're as dangerous as a slightly high pressurized super soaker right now. Maybe an angry, semi-armed teddy bear. And don't you dare get off this table to try and prove me otherwise.

[ Sounds like she's thinking from experience. ] I actually am a doctor. Not medically, but. The skin is healed but the underlying muscle layer is still injured, so if you move around too much it'll take longer to knit back together. I just stopped the bleeding and introduced a protein to help it jumpstart the healing process in general - it's not fixed yet. Also you're high on painkillers, so. No. You get to stay here.

[ Well. Yes. Fair point. ]

I'm always dangerous, that's a terrible lie, take it back. [ He's actually mostly right there, she's just pretty used to getting back up and keeping going with injuries and kind of assumes she can always do it. Even when it's just a blatantly terrible idea.

It never happened to her (and she is immeasurably happy about that), but she saw it happen a few times and it never worked out well. ] You're at least two doctors, aren't you. Best I could hope for. [ wait except for that she's not okay with that doctor's opinion. ] Seriously? Come on, I'll be careful, Tony, I don't want to stay still.

I'll take it back when it's actually a horrible horrible no good very bad lie again. Right now it isn't, so. [ Two can play the sticking-tongues-out game.

And he sort of laughs. ] Okay, so, as 'two doctors', I'm giving you a second opinion. You're staying in the bed. [ pause for effect. ] At least another half hour, okay? Give the proteins time to get things going in the subcutaneous, and then you can carefully move around a little. A little. Deal?

The point of always is that it's never not true, okay. I could have taken down three of him. [ Oh, two can, but it's totally rude for him and not for her, she said so. Though in actuality she's just pleased that he's sticking his tongue out and sort of laughing because she doesn't want him to worry about her. At all, preferably. ]

That was a terrible second opinion. [ Sighing as she shifts a little and then settles back, watching him. ] But fine. Deal. If you're staying. You're staying, right?

I totally believe you, but in this case, for whatever reason, and I really don't need to know or care about that reason, you didn't, so. [ That's that.

And he glances down at her with a look. ] Of course I'm staying. Like I trust you to actually stay in this bed for half an hour as soon as I leave the room. [ He's kidding, mostly. He does think you value your health at least enough to follow the letter of his directions, but to a degree he thinks you'd find a way around it. Really he's just disguising the fact that there's no way in hell he's going to leave you when he was just recently so so so worried that you were going to be permanently leaving him. Actually, over the next half hour, the payback for having blocked things and put others off and utilized different things before is going to catch up with him, but he's going to put that off as much as possible. Maybe he'll even make it to tonight, when she's asleep in her room and he can quietly fall a little to pieces in the sanctity of his own, the night a cloaking device until the morning, when he'll emerge and appear as thought nothing out of the ordinary happened at all. ]

[ She kind of grimaces at that a little bit, doesn't answer because yeah, that's that. She didn't. She let someone get the drop on her. She can't categorically say it would never have happened before, but it wouldn't have been that easy. She should have had him from go.

She shrugs a little bit, as she can. It's not an inaccurate idea. She really would be quite likely to figure out some method of circumventing it in a way she felt was healthy enough. So instead of trying to contradict it she just lifts a hand in a reach for his. ] I scared you. [ A statement, rather than a question, because she'd been wide open to everything for some time back there and she'd felt his worry. ] Sorry. [ She doesn't have the energy to try to reach out to his mind yet, but she's a little worried about his own head's state of affairs. His specifically or not, a guide in danger is never good for a sentinel. ]

[ Well, maybe he's overreacting. Over-mapping things out in his head. Maybe it'll be okay. He can't quite tell yet, but he pauses in putting bandages and such away - the smaller cuts and bruises and antibacterial things of a similar nature - and takes her hand. She's just not usually in danger, really, and he's not always that sure what to do about it when she is. (When any guide is, really, but that's another matter.) There's a few moments of just, calmness, looking back down at her, before he comes back to himself entirely. ]

Pretty sure you scared you too. Just don't do it again and we'll be good, deal?

[ A little tentatively, she brushes his mind, just checking in, looking for permission. If something is wrong, she's not sure she'll be able to fix it right now, but she wants to at least know. When he gives her his hand she holds onto it firmly, because the adrenaline's all seeped out and the oh-god-I-could-have-not-made-it is kicking in and she doesn't want to be alone right now, or still, or - she takes a deep breath and lets it out, winces. She doesn't want to be pushed back into memories she doesn't want, mostly, and his hand is a solid anchor in the nowness of things. She watches him watching her, face settling into calm neutrality, a mask for now because the way she's feeling she doesn't want to let on her face. ]

I don't scare that easy. [ false bravado in every sense of the word. ] But I'll avoid it. In the future.

[ He's not actually sure how much permission he wants to give here, because he was honestly, seriously rattled, and he has yet to work out the depths of that himself, so letting her see that might be upsetting to a degree, but also not letting her see anything - or obviously blocking an obvious part of himself off - would also be upsetting, he imagines. Based on how she's reacted to that sort of thing the few times he's done it in the past. So he eases her in, lets the brush connect with whatever amount of reassurance he can cobble together at the moment's notice, not really hiding anything or showing off anything specific. It's the same thing she's doing with her face in response to his own unasked query, and at that realization, he blinks a little, loosens his scrutiny, tightens his grip, lightens his own expression, because hey, they can do this. Technically they already have, so, obviously. ]

No, you don't. So the next time something like that happens I fully expect you to be protecting me while I hide in the corner. Just saying. [ what was that about false fronts? ] Of course you will - I just told you to. Tony Stark speaks and it is done.

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