Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
When Elle laid in bed, usually exhausted, she could sleep. She would feel fatigued, a heaviness in her chest which urged her to find a nice spot for her to doze off. Her sleep was a good seven hours, in parts, all through the day and if even one of those were snatched away, she would feel like someone had trampled over her sanity.
She was far from asleep when she heard noises from across the hall, strange metal clanging and the whizzing of an automated screwdriver. With a surprising draw of her breath, she shot up from the pillow.
'Tony,' she whispered, shaking him profusely. 'Honey, wake up. I think Margo is still awake.'
He only lowly grumbled, turning on his back to scrub the sleep out of his eyes. His gaze fell on Elle who was wide-eyed, glancing at the slightly ajar door and concerned. He sighed, placing a hand over her waist.
'JARVIS, is that true?'
'Sir, it appears Mrs Stark is right.'
Those mere words were enough to set off trepidation in Elle. She mumbled about how it was the fourth time that week and she was out of bed in seconds to pull her back into a ponytail. He watched her with one sleepy eye, rolling it slowly.
'So she's a night owl,' he muttered, his words muffled by the pillow. 'Leave the kid alone.'
'I think it's insomnia,' she offered.
'Elle, stop overthinking.'
'I'm not! I think she needs a shrink.'
'I swear if you don't get back to sleep, I will knock you out myself.'
'No, absolutely not,' she hissed. 'She's a six-year-old child and she should be getting her rest.'
'You and I both know nothing in that sentence applies to our kid.'
'I don't care,' she disapproved. When his response didn't come, a pillow came crashing down on his face and a painful grunt leaving his lips. Before he could shoot Elle a glare, she had already disappeared behind the door.
Elle's footfalls were soft and walking across the hall to knock on Margo's door. She knew the response wouldn't follow because of the slow hum of a rotor and so she let herself in.
The sight she was greeted with wasn't pretty. The hardwood floor in her room was barely visible due to the array of mechanical instruments that laid in an unorganized clutter on the floor. There were colourful wires and metal panels which were sown in half by a handheld saw. She had to hold her chest when she saw the article.
