Just My Luck (Avengers Fanfic)

A Peaceful Night of Sleep? Psych!

Steve carefully placed me down on the bed, while Bruce in the background ran from side to side, grabbing clean bandages and setting up some of the medical devices.

"Um, Bruce?" I asked.

He immediately halted in his tracks and looked at me, eyebrows slightly raised. "Yes?"

I informed him, "You should probably know that some of my stitches tore."

"Excuse me?" He choked, a flash of worry striking his face.

Intending to repeat my previous sentence, I said, "My stitches-"

"Yes yes, I heard you the first time. Where?" He asked, coming up to the right side of the bed. Because someone had set up the bed in a way where I was in a sitting position, I could easily shrug off the jacked, displaying the crimson spots decorating my shirt.

Huh, I swore those were much smaller last time I checked. 

Bruce bit his lip hard as he studied my side, hovering his hand over some of the areas. "Oh geez, that does not look good!"

Steve, hearing Bruce, popped up right next to Bruce. I saw an expression of alarm that rarely cross his face. "God bless America! That's a whole lot of blood! Could she be going into shock?"

Bruce shook his head. "Not yet, I think."

"On the bright side, my arm is fine." I lifted it and grinned widely. Dr. Coppens bandaged my forearm nicely, and the bandage still stayed compact around my arm.

Bruce gave me a look that said 'what am I going to do with you' before he hurried to a cupboard and grabbed some gauze.

"Steve, could you grab some disinfectant from the cabinet under the sink over there, and Natasha," Bruce asked, seeing Natasha lean back against the wall and watching us, "Could you bring the lidocaine? It's in the storage room."

"Of course." She nodded and walked out of the room. Bruce threw a bunch of the supplies on the counter right next to the bed. 

I frowned. "Lidocaine, like the numbing drug that burns?"

"That's the one," Bruce said over his shoulder. Fantastic. 

Over the next hour, Bruce had re-done my stitches along the shoulder and stomach and re-bandaged my bruised ankle. Although patching me back up proved to be pretty painful, once the lidocaine numbed the areas, the procedure went along fine. By the time we wrapped up, the time was around seven o'clock.

Bruce finished wrapping my ankle up and then put it back down gently. "There. You're all set. Now we have to go over some rules."

"Rules?" I repeated. What kind of rules?

"Yes," Bruce started, "Primarily, no walking and-"

I cut him off, asking, "For how long?"

"Dr. Coppens noted that your ankle has a Grade 1 sprain. However, after looking at it again, it seems it's a bit worse than that and probably had to do with the fact that you used it. This will probably take another two weeks to heal."

I gaped, "Two weeks!"

"Yes. Until then, you're going to have to rest, place an ice pack on it, and if you do need to get somewhere, it will be with crutches or until the crutches arrive, with Steve." He nodded to Steve who had been standing next to Natasha and chatting with her in the med bay room. 

I sighed in surrender. "Okay, fine. Anything else I should know?"

"You need lots of rest, so you will be here or in the living room most of the time. Do not strain yourself. Take the time to heal, please. You will also need to eat healthy food on a breakfast, lunch, and dinner basis. We will have the food brought to you, don't worry." Right as he said that, a person I didn't recognize opened the door to the room.