𝐖𝐄𝐀𝐊𝐍𝐄𝐒𝐒𝐄𝐒 [𝖙•𝖘] [𝖎𝖒 - 𝖊𝖓𝖌]

⁴⁷. 𝑀𝑎𝑘𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝐴𝑚𝑒𝑛𝑑𝑠

───✱*.｡:｡✱*.:｡✧*.｡✰ ───

THE stench of antiseptic and artificial fragrances intoxicated (Y/N)'s lungs, almost suffocating her. She hated the smell of hospitals with a passion, nothing but bad memories coming to her subconscious mind. When the ambulance had arrived on the scene, she had been too quick on her feet and jumped inside without thinking of what might follow after that, and she couldn't just leave Rhodey right now. In some way, this was her fault, and she did not want to leave things in a bad place with him if. . .if anything worse happened.

Right now, Rhodey was being moved into another room for a magnetic resonance, and this gave (Y/N) the opportunity to go into the restroom before she was forced to be alone with Tony. With a sigh leaving her lips, she pushed inside the restroom and started to wash away the red stains of blood in her hands, ones that she had gained after helping the paramedics carry Rhodey into the ambulance. She did her best in washing it off, her hands trembling at her failed attempts, since she didn't want this to be stained in her forever. Her hands began to itch from the harshness of her scrubs, but that didn't matter to her.

Once she saw all the red pool down the drain of the sink, (Y/N) was able to release a breath she had been holding and dried her hands. Her head began pounding, and as much as she hated the pain of it, she couldn't focus on it right now. There were worst things in her mind than stupid headaches. Especially considering that Ross got his hands on her friends that didn't made it out of the airport with Steve and Bucky. She, on the other hand, was lucky to buy herself enough time, part of her mind coming up with an escape plan, and the other thinking quite rationally. Maybe, she could fix things in a much calmer way.

When (Y/N) walked out of the restroom, she was going to make her way over to an empty chair and sit in silence, but she didn't make it that far. A hand grabbed onto her forearm before she could take another step, and when she looked back to face them she locked eyes with Tony's brown irises. His eyes were sullen, like they usually were nowadays, and his arm was in a sling.

"We need to talk," he told her, his voice monotone.

(Y/N) removed his hand out of her arm since she had felt chills run down her spine. "Yeah, we do."

In order to find a spot in a crowded hospital that would give them a sense of privacy, they were forced to stay outside by a balcony. None of them had spoken a word since they closed the door behind them, and neither of them wanted to be the first to speak. The tension could be cut with a sharp kitchen knife, and it was Tony's time to wield the knife.

"The doctors say he shattered L4 through S1," he began, his tone gaining more emotion than before. "Extreme laceration to the spinal cord. Probably looking at some form of paralysis."