Victor Stone had resigned himself to the fact that he was completely alone in the world. He had comrades, but they were completely organic. He had people he'd consider calling 'friend', but they were organic as well. They had secret identities. They...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Harper's gaze was fixed on the tiled floor, legs hanging over the edge of a hospital bed. In front of her was a S.T.A.R labs employee, her hair tied back in a tight ponytail and a name badge that read 'Taylor' pinned to her coat. She had just examined Harper, and the results weren't good...but also not unexpected. Harper had been waiting for the day when her body would fail her for a long time.
"How long?" She asked with a surprising lack of emotion.
"At the rate it's going...maybe a few weeks. A month, if you're careful." Taylor replied. There was a certain degree of sympathy in her voice, but it was also very apparent that she'd had to break bad news to people before and so her heart had hardened.
Harper nodded. She had been feeling quite unwell for a few days now, and though it was of no comfort, she at least knew what was wrong now...and it was just as she had expected. "I'd prefer it if we kept this between us, for now."
"If that's what you want." Taylor replied knowingly. She had known many people like Harper in her time, all with a tendency to keep their private matters secret, and so she wasn't too concerned to hear her say this.
Harper steadied herself onto the cold floor, legs still struggling to withstand her own weight. She felt weak, light-headed, but she tried not to let that show as she stumbled out of the room. Sitting a little further down the hall was Victor. At sensing her presence his attention had jolted straight up. He looked worried. "Is everything alright? What happened?"
The Australian woman felt a tug in her chest, one that urged her to tell him the truth, but lies were all she had ever known. It can be a hard habit to break. "I...guess I had a concussion and didn't know it. Must've been that explosion. I'm fine now though."
Victor's only human eye narrowed ever so slightly at her explanation. He knew, immediately, that she was being dishonest. Though he'd never admit this to her, Harper had been the first person he scanned after the explosion. Not the civilians. Not himself. Her, and she had been fine. There had been no signs of injury passed the light bruising on her back from impact.
He could have easily hacked into the S.T.A.R Labs files and figured it out for himself, but that was a breach of privacy that he often tried to avoid. If she didn't want to tell him what was really wrong, then there must have been a good excuse for it. So he didn't press the subject any further. "Let's get back to the Watchtower then."
"Wait..." Harper pauses to search the immediate vicinity for any indication that her suit was still there. She was wearing it when she collapsed, she remembered at least that much. "Where's Val?"
"I returned it to the Hangar bay." Victor replied, but he never stopped walking through the twisting hallway. As if he were afraid that if he stopped for long enough to look at her, then the severe depths of his concern would become obvious.
It was difficult to hide that, though, when they returned to the Watchtower and Harper saw the state of her suit. The front had been torn in an obvious effort to get her out of it. Its titanium hull plating was creased and folded like paper under Victor's strength. She'd have to strip it all off and refit it... Along with the hull damage, the suit's inner frame had been compromised, meaning that it needed a rebuild. The frame was what held everything, including the armour plating, together. Most of the important electronic systems were housed on the back of the unit, so that had escaped the brunt of Victor's wrath.
