Dog Days

Chapter 79

About an hour and a half later, a short man with some ridiculous facial hair steps into the room and immediately make's eyes contact with me "I knew you were a big guy, I didn't realize you were this big."

I sigh, before declaring "Yeah, I know." He chuckles as I see him lining up more jokes in his head "What are you here to say?"

He smiles "Loki is in post-op, coming off anesthesia. We're going to move him in here." He motions to the space with the outlets and O2 outlets "He's probably going to sleep for the rest of the evening."

I narrow my gaze at him, only to ask "What makes you credible to do this? Do you even have a medical degree?"

He gives me a pleased look, before declaring "I have a PhD from MIT in robotics and an MD at Hopkins, where I also did my residency. The reason I'm stuck away, here, is because of my advancements in surgical robotics. The FDA doesn't approve of my procedures, because they don't approve medical treatments that actually work without side effects that make you worse."

I take a deep breath and he gives me a soft smile "You're worried. That's normal. Loki will be here in about an hour, but Fury and Grandmaster are with him, now."

He leans against the doorframe and states "Only big concern is his leg. I cut out an infection, and he's going to need some time to heal and rehabilitate the leg. He'll be on clear fluids until the day after tomorrow. Then a soft diet for a few weeks."

I give him a tired smile "Thank you."

He takes a deep breath, before declaring "I don't want to open him up, again."

He steps out of the room and down the hall, before I sit there in silence. The room is entirely silent and I honestly feel completely uncomfortable in the room.

I sigh, before resting my head back on mattress and closing my eyes. I take a deep breath and try to remember the joy of being near him. I try to remember the good, but all I see is the look on his face when Thanos was-

I can't seem to get the image out of my head.

I clear my throat and ask "Natasha, what time did you pick me up?"

She sighs "About noon, why?"

I sigh "What time is it?"

She checks her watch "Almost five."

I sit forward and open my bag. As I grab my anxiety meds, I open the bottle and grab one out. I pop it in my mouth and take a drink, before zipping the bag and laying back.

The entire room is silent, besides the frustratingly low television on the wall. The wait is obnoxiously long and each minute passes like an hour. After a few minutes, I sigh "I fucking hate hospitals."

I take a deep breath and rest my head back on the mattress. My shoulder begins to ache, deeply, and as I sit there, it spasms uncontrollably.

I lay there for a moment, trying not to draw attention to myself as I try to ignore the pain in my arm. After a few seconds, Natasha sighs "What the fuck? Are you having a stroke?"

I sigh as try to calm the pain "It's the shoulder."

She furrows her brow, only to ask "Are you still on narcotics?"

I scoff at her, before reminding "I'm a hippie. I dropped narcotics the first chance I got."

Steve sighs "Wanna go smoke?"

I take a deep breath, before I state "I don't have a lighter, and I don't really feel like leaving the building."

Natasha chuckles at me "We have a dozen lighters in the lounge, alone. Come on."