My Marvel World

Chapter Seven

"He's going to be fine, right?" Josephine desperately asked Helen Cho, the head of the medical facility at S.H.I.E.L.D., a nice woman with jet black hair, that Josephine had met two or three times, since she had also had her fair share of injuries, even though she usually healed them up herself.

Helen Cho gave Josephine a wary smile, far beyond used to the desperately frantic people that she often had to reassure while dealing with her patients.

"He'll be fine, dear. It's not like I haven't dealt with bullet wounds before. Naturally, he will be fairly sore and achy, but I've made sure that Director Fury doesn't send him on any missions for at least a month, and, apparently, those Stark girls set up a guest room for him, downstairs." Hellen assured Josephine, which made Josephine exhale loudly in relief, but roll her eyes when Helen wasn't looking.

Of course, the 'Stark girls' had set up a guest room for Charlie. He didn't really need one, since Franklin was coming to pick him up.

The secret was out. Everyone at S.H.I.E.L.D. had been informed of who Charlie's parent was, and what his real abilities were. Campbell and Madeleine had done their fair share of incredulous swearing at the briefing meeting, while Lola's jaw simply dropped, Claire pretended not to be affected but clearly was, Peter didn't believe it, and Serena and Anna just had that knowing look on their faces.

"When can I go in there?" Josephine asked, gesturing at the door that led in to the 'hospital area', as Josephine referred to it, even though she was sure it had a much longer, fancier name that she wouldn't ever remember, since that was usually what S.H.I.E.L.D. defaulted to for names.

"Soon. In about 2 minutes, exactly, actually." Helen informed Josephine, checking the monitors that helped her analyze the patient without any visuals of his surgery. Although Josephine understood a good deal of medical things, Helen's technology was extremely advanced and not many people, even S.H.I.E.LD. agents, understood it at all.

Helen muttered under her breath as she wrote down Charlie's heart rate, essential damage, necessary recovery time, surgery time length, wound integrity, and loads of other things that were to be sent off to Fury and Hill for a complete analyzing and filing, since every little injury and medical procedure had to be kept on record for later times when, well, they didn't talk about that much.

Josephine turned her back to Helen, crossing her arms and chewing on her lip, tearing off the top layer of skin, but she didn't pay any attention, her brain reeling in a million different directions at once.

She really didn't know what she was going to do now. Franklin Richards, the 'Human God', had a son. And that son was one of her best friends in the entire galaxy of life forms. Her best friend could warp reality, and hadn't told anyone, merely using a illusion to make it seem like he was on fire, when it was really just him being him.

He had directly lied to them about his powers, and Josephine didn't even care. Probably because she knew what it was like to hide something from people you care about because you don't want to hurt them. She was actually okay with it. She understood why he did what he had done. She would have done the same thing if she was in his place. Which, luckily, she wasn't.

But it wasn't just that. It wasn't just that Charlie had hid things from her that made her stomach curly and writhe in worry and anxiety.

It was the fact that she didn't know anymore.

She wasn't sure what was going on with her right now, but she wasn't sure. She didn't know if it had been that revelation that not everyone told the truth, or all that had changed in the past few days that had seemed like ages, but it was sure something, and it made her feel extremely uneasy. Nothing was set for her anymore. She just didn't know anymore.

She wasn't sure about her position as a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent. She wasn't sure that she was really the safest person to be around, not that she would tell anyone that she felt that way. She wasn't sure what Charlie's new identity was going to do to his S.H.I.E.L.D. position, and she sure as hell didn't want him to be exiled like so many other agents. She wasn't sure about her and Peter anymore, even though she

wanted to be, and she felt bad for not being sure. She wasn't even sure about having romantic relationships anymore, not that she ever really had been.

"Hey, you okay?" A voice behind her said, and she turned to face the person whose voice it was, noticing that Helen had left to brief Charlie on taking proper car of his bullet wound. It was Peter. Josephine repressed the urge to wince. This was not what she needed right now. This was the exact opposite of what she needed right now.

"Fine. I'm fine, Peter. Honestly. I just need a moment to think this all over." Josephine hinted that she wanted him to go away. She felt bad for doing it, but she really didn't want to be around him at the moment. Sure, he was sweet and funny and had always made her feel better, but she wasn't- she just didn't want to- it was so hard to explain in words. Sure, she still admired Peter, with his wit, sarcastic jokes, and embarrassing goofiness, but she could feel her feelings for him dwindling down to a almost obsolete shred in her chest that made her feel as if she had somehow betrayed him with her emotions.

Peter nodded awkwardly, looking down at the floor, "Sure. Yeah. I get it. I- um, I'll just be going, then." He managed a response, and the sheepishly exited on the door to his right, sliding out the door as Josephine turned back away from where he had stood, back to facing the blank white wall in front of her, and the glass beneath her feet.

Josephine took in a deep breath, pinching the bridge of her nose as she looked down, closing
her eyes. Sometimes she wondered what it would be like if she hadn't joined S.H.I.E.L.D. If she hadn't gone on these missions or invested herself in all this mess that she called a secret service. She knew that, yes, she wouldn't have seen her friends as much, but sometimes she thought about all the stress, the risking of her friends lives, the blood, all the torture, and she wondered if she would have been better
off if she had just stayed at her apartment.

She made up her mind.

She was sure now.