Why me?

The Fall

"How exactly does this chip get put inside me?"

"It's small enough to be put in an injection, so it goes in a needle in the base of your back and into your spinal cord. It's completely safe, I promise you. Are you ready to go now?" I made to transfer from the dining chair into my wheelchair but missed for the second time that morning; the wheelchair went flying, taking my arm with it and I lost all balanced and fell to the floor, scraping the back of my head down the table leg as I went down.

"Jess!" Clint yelled, pushing up from his seat and coming over to me and placing his hand behind my head. He pulled it away; it was wet with blood.

"I'm fine, just need help to get off the floor." Clint helped me into my chair but didn't leave me alone.

"Off the floor." Clint's eyes widened as he realised what he'd done and brushed his fingers against Nat's, a comfort thing I assumed, as her face twitched into a second of sympathy. He did it too. I noted. I brushed it off, not wanting to dig any deeper if he didn't want me to. "Jess you're bleeding bad, you are not fine." He persisted, then sighed. "You're going to say you're fine anyway. JARVIS run a full health scan of Jess."

"Miss Peterson a deep abrasion on the back of her head, paralysis from the waist down and multiple mental health conditions. Would you like me to list them Mr Barton?" JARVIS replied, giving up the game. My head was throbbing, and bleeding, but I felt fine.

"No, that's fine JARVIS. Come here Jess, let me clean that up." Clint pushed me to the kitchen sink and wiped the back of my head gently - I'm sure he noticed my constant grimace - cleaning the blood away to reveal a clean, but deep, cut on the back of my head. He put antiseptic on it and left it to the air, allowing it to heal; it wasn't deep enough to merit stitches or anything.

"You know I still need to train, I can't get around if I let my muscles go." I stated.

"You can't train for a couple of days, you'll risk pulling the cut open again, and trust me, that isn't fun. Anyway, are there not at least three other people in this place at any one time that can help you if necessary? No training, end of. You're not making that worse." Clint snapped, pointing at the welt forming underneath my hair. There was no arguing with him now. "Go with Tony, chill out, and work on this project thing." I turned away and wheeled into the elevator next to Tony. Bucky stepped into my path with an ice bag and he pressed it to my head. It reminded me of how Steve had done the same thing to my knuckles over a year ago.