Twisted Fates | ironstrange (Book 1)

forget

"If no course of action is taken, then, you have three months to live."

Mary screamed.

~

Tony spent the next two weeks uncomfortably cooped up in the hospital, confined to his bed. It was infuriating: the same four walls painted a plain white; never-ending beeping sounds everywhere; constant nurses, doctors, and visitors streaming in and out of his room; needles poking and prodding him every hour of the day; and of course, not having anything to do.

His way of dealing with the maddening boredom was to play games with his visitors (Peter was always willing to play Go Fish or I Spy with his uncle), watch the news or anything on TV (the first three days on the news channel had been covering the crash but it died down quickly. Afterwards he found a new British show where the main character looked exactly like John, but the doctor refused to confirm nor deny the coincidence to be true) talk to himself, or doodle little plans for different projects on small pieces of paper he was given every so often.

Other times, Mary would come alone and she and Tony would spend long hours talking about his future. Mary wanted him to get the transplant but Tony refused. He refused because, well, he had struggled with major depression ever since he was a child and had tried to take his own life many times. Now, he was offered an easy way out, one that didn't involve much pain. So then, what was the point? Mary didn't see it that way. After the third argument on the topic occurred in front of little Peter, Mary dropped the subject.

"Uncle Tony!" Peter had yelled on his first visit. A week of not seeing his uncle had been way too long.

"Peter!" Tony yelled back, matching the eight-year-old's energy as he scooped Peter into his arms, careful not to injure himself further.

Peter smiled up at him, poking at his 'mouth mullet' as his nephew had named it. "It's spiky." Peter giggled.

Tony laughed. "Yeah, it is spiky, isn't it?"

Peter then moved his hand to Tony's chest, right above the spot the arc reactor was embedded.

"Does it hurt?" Peter asked, his eyes wide with a childish innocence.

Tony's face fell, but he quickly pushed a small smile back on his face. "Not really. Not anymore, at least."

Peter frowned slightly. "Mamma said that you got a big owie and it hurts you sometimes. She also said that you might die. Are you gonna die, Tio?" Peter asked, small tears forming at the corner of his eyes.

Tony grimaced. He could either brush it off and forget about it, but he knew Peter would pester him until he got an answer. Or he could just tell Peter a portion of the truth.

"Yeah, Zio got a big ouchie but it's all better now. See?" Tony took Peter's small hand in his own and pressed it against the reactor, smiling softly despite the spike of pain the action sent through his body.

"You're going to be okay?"

Tony let a long breath. "Yeah. Yeah. I'm okay. I might have to go away in a few months, but I'll visit, okay?"

Peter gave a firm nod making Tony grin. "Okay."

In an instant, Peter's sullen mood morphed into his usual energetic and curious self as he started squirming. "Tony! Tony, lemme go!"

Tony laughed, letting Peter's hand out of his grasp and watched the young boy wriggle off Tony's hospital bed and grab his backpack. "I got a new action figure!"

~

When the day finally came for Tony to be released, he planned to go straight to his own room and take a nice warm shower with a plastic bag over his stupid cast. Before he could, however, Steve insisted that Tony have someone stay with him for the foreseeable future. Tony only agreed after being threatened by Mary but stubbornly refused to let anyone except his sister watch over him.