UNKNOWN GUEST

#70 She Found Out!

As I wheeled down the corridor, Uncle Clint's voice crackled through the phone, filled with pride. "It's a boy."

A grin spread across my face. "Well, congratulations, Uncle. Take care of him. He's gonna be my best-senior-friend in the future."

He chuckled, a sound that always felt like home. "Yeah, I will. But what about your condition, though?"

I sighed, guiding the wheelchair along the glass windows. The view outside was a stark contrast to the sterile, silent hallways inside. "I had a checkup this morning. They said I'm better, much better. They might discharge me to some nursing facility if needed since there's no one here to take care of me. But I was wondering if Uncle Tony might send his jet to get me or something?"

"He will. Just call him whenever you need. Have you talked to your mom?"

Another sigh escaped me, this one heavier. "Yeah, I did. Yesterday. She just asked awkwardly how I was and if I was getting better. That's it, then she hung up." We both chuckled. I never thought Mom could be this awkward.

After saying goodbye to Uncle Clint, I moved my wheelchair forward, the sound of its soft hum the only noise in the eerily quiet medical wing. This research lab was different from the bustling environments I was used to—almost too quiet, like the calm before a storm.

The wheelchair I was sitting in was sleek and advanced, automatically mobile, much like the robo-chair at Stark Tower, minus the smooth voice of JARVIS. I couldn't help but miss the gentle guidance from the AI. Days here dragged on in frustrating silence, with no one to talk to, no missions to plan, no battles to anticipate. It was just me, the machines, and the ticking clock.

But during the night, things were different. The excitement to hear Dr. Cho's rants was something I secretly looked forward to. It's been a week already, and every night, like clockwork, Dr. Cho would come into my room, thinking I was asleep. 

She'd sit by my bedside and talk—about her day, the research she was working on, and how much she wanted me to get better. Her voice was a mix of exhaustion and hope, a way for her to unload all the tension she couldn't express while facing me during the day.

And every night, I pretended to be asleep. I listened to her every word, letting her ease her worries in the only way she knew how. It was our unspoken ritual—she spoke, and I listened, both of us finding some strange comfort in the routine.

That night arrived, draping the city of Seoul in a warm, comforting glow, with its vibrant lights painting the surroundings in hues of color. Back in my bed, I was in full-on acting mode, pretending to be asleep as I patiently waited for Dr. Cho to show up. 

But tonight, she was taking longer than usual. Doubt crept in—was she not coming? Why not? It's fine, I guess; she's not obligated to visit me every night. But I was hoping...

Eventually, the door slid open, and she entered the room, her presence unmistakable. I quickly closed my eyes, resuming my feigned slumber as she walked up to my bed. She sat down on the stool beside me, and the silence stretched out before she let out a deep sigh.

"I think I'm going crazy, Jason," she began, her voice laced with frustration and confusion. "Having numerous questions erupting inside of you without a valid answer is no less than any torture."

My mind raced—what is she talking about? What questions?

She continued, her tone heavy with the burden of uncertainty, "And these questions are troubling me, but I'm afraid to ask you face to face." Another sigh followed. "How the heck did the Super Soldier Serum particles end up in your blood?"

Panic set in—she knew. She had figured it out.

"And how the heck did you get this mark on your hands?"