What did I ever do to you?

say it like that

By the time we make it to the med bay I'm slipping in and out of consciousness. Kate's trying to get me to do something. I can't process what. I only hear small bits. I feel nauseous.

"Emmelyn! Please!" Kate shakes me.

The pain feels duller. The room is cold. Kate is getting quieter. She looks scared. I feel myself drifting. Drifting far far away. Away from Kate.

The drifting stops. I spring up. She's saying something. Everything hurts again. My suit is rolled down to my waist. She's got a needle in hand. There's alcohol on the table. She's trying to get my attention.

"Emmelyn you need to lay down." She orders. I listen, laying back onto the table.

She keeps stitching. I'm still cold. And tired. I think she's telling me to stay awake. But I'm tired. I look at her again. She still looks so scared. She's talking again. I should listen. I want to sleep. No. Don't sleep. That's bad. She's still talking. I should really start listening. My head hurts.

"Hang in there. It's not bleeding as badly."

I muster up a hoarse 'ok'.

"You're talking! That's good. Really good." She replies, nodding.

She keeps working and I continue to feel better. The room is warmer now and I can hear her voice more clearly.

"Ok, the big one is done." she sighs in relief, "You're gonna be ok. And I won't have to tell Tony I killed his new prospect."

I smiled the best I could for her. I didn't want her to be scared anymore. I liked her face better when she was pissed at me. I still didn't feel right, but I felt like I was really there again, at the very least. She moved to my leg and began stitching.

Once I felt strong enough I started telling her, "Just FYI I did dislocate my shoulder."

"Of course you did, you're an idiot." She says, that angry look coming back.

"That's me."

"Is it still out?"

She looked a little worried. Worried enough to stop suturing and make eye contact.

"Nah, I popped it in myself." I answered.

"You psychopath." She shook her head, refocusing on my leg.

"Gotta add a little spice into my life somehow."

"What, you get off on almost dying?" She scoffed.

"Not exactly."

"Why do you do it then?"

"Why do you want to know me so well? Thought you hated me." I snark.

"Whatever, Kraft. You share a name with box mac and cheese."

"Oh, low blow Bishop. That was uncalled for." I say, sarcastically.

"I mean I do hate you so." She says, shrugging.

"You sure?"

"Now don't start thinking me preventing you from dying means I like you. You still make me crazy."

"Still that same kind of crazy?" I fake flirt, but maybe it's not as fake this time.

"Still the bad crazy."

I knew her answer, but I was still disappointed when she said it.

"But-"

She cuts me off, "When pigs fly Emmelyn."

"Understood. Although, what I don't understand is what happened at your still alive party..." I prodded.

"Alcohol happened."

"If you say so." I say, skeptically.

"Shut up, Emmelyn. You're a cunt you know that right."

"Only for you, sweetheart."

"You want me to fix your leg or not?" She asked, pissed. It still looked good on her.

"I suppose."

"Then shut it." She ordered.

"Yes, ma'am."

We didn't talk while she finished my leg and I didn't dare say a word as she fixed my back. It was scraped, pretty bad. Next she moved onto the smaller cuts, that were scattered around my body.

When she got to the ones on my face, she had to lean in real close. I think she was leaning closer than she really needed to. I could feel her breath on my cheek. Her lingering presence wasn't as unbearable as I imagined. The fact my suit was half off didn't help my decision making.

She was inches away from my face. Inches from my lips. Inches from changing everything. Inches from breaking the tension.

The eye contact she made wasn't like the other times. There was a fire behind her eyes, but not the angry one I'm usually met with. It had changed and I didn't mind. She was thinking, contemplating. Her jaw shifting, nervously. Any pain I felt before vanished. In its place was something I couldn't quite put my finger on. The line between hate and desire was beginning to blur.

She pulled away, clearing her throat, "I think uh, I think you're looking pretty good here. You know nothing is... gushing anymore." She says motioning at my body with her hands.

"Yes, that is usually a good sign." I agree, awkwardly, "So I assume you'll be heading to bed now?"

"I'm not sure you should be left unattended. An hour ago you were basically dead."

"I lost a little blood so what?" I try normalizing it.

"It was more than a little. I just don't feel great about you being alone all night."

"You're saying you want to sleep with me?" I say, almost laughing.

"Well not when you say it like that." She covers her face, "I was thinking maybe I'd just sleep on the floor or something. Just in case you needed something or your stitches popped."

"I guess that could be arranged." I say, wearily.

"Good. You hang tight a second, I'll be right back to help you up."

"Got it."

I didn't get it. I was fine to walk on my own. Also I wasn't going to cause her the trouble of helping me walk again.

So I swung my legs off the table through some discomfort, but that's all it was; discomfort. I braced myself and tried to stand. I immediately wanted to puke. The pain was horrible and it was everywhere. I only made it about two feet before my legs gave out.

"Emmelyn what the hell." Kate said, rushing over.

"I'm good. Just need a sec."

"Lying is a sin." She replied.

After my little stunt she had to practically carry me to my room. My bed was covered in blood, not sure what I'll tell Stark. After seeing my bed, she offered up her room. I offered she sleep in the bed and I on the couch, but she didn't budge. I wasn't sure, but I was too weak to fight her on it.

In the end, I was in her bed and she was on her couch. She loaned me a sweatshirt and sweatpants. I almost offered for her to sleep in the bed with me. Then my better judgement kicked in. If she hated me this morning, what's to say she's changed her mind?