Unseen, Not Untrue.

Chapter Three

Tony blinks his eyes open an unknown amount of time later, but other than a dull twinge in his chest, he doesn't really feel any pain. He tenses immediately when he sees an unfamiliar white room. He's lying down again and for a moment all he can think of is that metal table and oh my god please no not again-

Someone- a woman walks into his field of vision and all thoughts stop at the sight of her. Her skin was a beautiful dark copper colour and her hair was stark white, a startling contrast that instantly catches his attention, with warm brown eyes that meet with his own. He can feel the concern and love, calm and kindness and relief floating peacefully around her. He smells ozone as she kneels slowly next to him. He shifts away slightly and was shocked to realise he wasn't strapped down and the table- no bed was soft and there was a light weight, but warm comforter draped over his small body.

Tony's brown eyes dart around the room again. It looks like a hospital room, only homelier and with stranger technology. He catches himself wondering how it works, what's different about it and why, pulling his gaze away from the sparks that surround him in the room. It's comforting to know he can focus on them now if he wants too. His gaze falls back to the white-haired woman and belatedly notices she's speaking to him.

"... you feeling?" He hears her say, looking at him questioningly. Tony frowns, brows pulling inwards as he swallows and tries to speak. He coughs harshly and it brings agony to his chest. He instinctively curls inwards around the pain.

He feels someone's hands on his shoulders and he yelps, yanking himself away. He hits the floor with a gasp and sees the lights in the room flicker as his vision grays out for a moment and that the woman is pinned against the opposite wall with the bed he'd just vacated.

He whimpers in fear and tries to drag himself away, but his arms won't support his weight, despite how little it is.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry..." He mutters hoarsely, creating more of a breathy rasping sound than any literate syllables. His voice was too dry and unused to speaking, instead of screaming, for the words to sound the way they were supposed to. He can't breathe. His chest is squeezing the air from his lungs and there's blood on his chest, on his hand. The woman is crouching in front of him and he doesn't know how or when she got there and please no don't hurt me I didn't mean to-

"Tony." A familiar voice says in his head. "Tony it's okay, you're safe. No one is going to hurt you. She just wants to help. You're safe here, nothing bad is going to happen."

But the blood- Tony thinks in panic. It's everywhere- there's too much, I can't-

"Tony, it's alright. You've torn some of your stitches, that is why you're bleeding. You are safe, Tony. That man can never hurt you again, I promise."

And for some reason Tony believes him. He calms down enough so he can breathe after a few minutes and looks at his chest. There are indeed small black stitches neatly sealing his skin in a large 'Y' and not as much blood as he'd first thought. He looks away from them and somewhere into the middle distance before he can think too much about how he got those horrific incisions in the first place. Live dissection was not something he needed to think about. Ever.

The dark-skinned woman is still in front of him, quietly murmuring assurances to him. He meets her eyes and gives a small smile that really is nothing more than the barest twitch of his lips, but she seems to see it for what it is either way. He goes to speak again but she stops him, handing him a glass of water instead. She shifts his head onto her thigh- he realizes he was lying on the floor, and tilts his head so he can drink.

He sips at the water greedily, well he tries to at least, knowing he had to drink it slowly or he'd make himself sick, but at the same time he's desperately wanted water for so long it hurts to think about. The cool liquid soothes his aching throat and wets his chapped lips. She helps him to slowly finish off as much of the glass as he can manage and carefully picks him up. Tony tenses as soon as she does, his breathing picking up and almost entering another panic attack before it's over and he's back to lying on the startlingly soft mattress.