Bombshell

Icky Situations

As I slowly begin to wake up, I realize through my window that I somehow slept through the night. Those pain meds were strong. They've definitely wore off by now, as I can now feel everything, but so many times worse. I turn my attention to a neatly organized cart beside my bed. There's a note attached to it, and little orange pill bottles lining the cart.

Morning sunshine. Thought you may want some more painkillers, so I've got all sorts of stuff for you to take throughout the day. On the back is the order to take them and at what times throughout the day. Follow this strictly and it'll be a lot easier to get through these two-three weeks.

-Lauren :)

I smile to myself thinking about the time she put into organizing this by times. I check the back for doses and times, grabbing up what I'm allowed to take right now and downing the pills with some water. I can already feel the pain melting away. The dance was Sunday evening, so now it's Tuesday. Peter's still at school, and so is Hazel. My girlfriend/reason to go to Queens, as Tony put it.

I don't think I'll tell him any time soon. What if he doesn't let me visit her anymore? What if he doesn't support it? What if... what if he doesn't want me anymore? All these fears hold my mouth shut whenever it comes to my little secret. Peter wouldn't tell anyone without my permission either. But Tony isn't the only reason why she can't come to the compound.

I can't tell her I'm Bombshell. I don't want the world to know ever, and I don't know when I'll tell her. I can't hide from her forever, but I will as long as I can. If she comes to the compound she'll know everything, my life will fall apart, and everything would become real. My real family situation would become common knowledge. But my god it's tearing me apart that I have to lie to her.

I scoot over to the chair, though hesitantly. I can already tell stuff is healing, and some stuff is already gone. Any painful, horrendous scratches or bruises were already gone, with the exception of large cuts from landing on something sharp. The whole day is faint, and I couldn't remember much of it anymore. Everything was coated in a nice thin layer of dust. Everything feels a million times better today, but that doesn't mean it's all healed by any means. But I do feel confident enough to visit and apologize to Hazel, but I still need my excuse.

Hmm, why am I covered head to toe in broken bones and all that jazz? When I was supposedly helping Peter through mental health stuff? I guess I could say someone mugged me on my way back to the dance, but I doubt she'd believe that. It's only 9:23, so I have all day to figure out what to tell her. I decide to roll downstairs (in the elevator of course) for some breakfast. The kitchen is empty except for Rhodey.

"Morning," I mumble. He turns around to see me in all of my... chairness.

"Oh god," he laughs, "Tony didn't say it was that bad,"

"Well, it's not that bad. Anymore at least, it was worse the other day. I can't even feel it." I say smugly. He passes me an omelette. "You're insane. Hungry?" I nod, and quickly snarf up the eggy dish.

"Someone was hungry," Tony's voice echoes from the staircase.

"Morning Tony," I mumble, still engulfed in the omelette.

"You've got physical therapy in an hour, just letting you know," he informs me. I groan.

"Ew, what? How long will that take?" He laughs at me, holding onto the table for support. It's not like me to be leaving all the time on a schedule, I usually just freelance patrol.

"Only an hour or two. You'll be done by lunch. What, got a hot date?" He suspects, definitely assuming something. I'm surprised he hasn't put it together yet, after the day I came home blushing, after going to homecoming with someone, needing to be gone today. Like I said, I don't leave a lot, and I'm being embarrassingly obvious.