"All my life I've been called a monster. But when I met you, you showed me otherwise."
Iron man 2-Avengers: Endgame
I DO NOT OWN ANY MARVEL CHARACTERS OR MARVEL MOVIE PLOTS! I ONLY OWN ELLIOTT MILLER AND MY PLOT! ALL OF THE CHARACTERS BELONG TO MA...
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The next day. Avengers facility. 3rd person.
Elliott woke up to an empty spot to his left, the Weight was gone, Elliott remembered what Natasha chose to do during this. . . Off time.
Elliott sighed, pulling his torn body from his comfortable bed, leaving the warmth that it provided to the shifter.
Elliott did his normal morning routine, letting his mind sit for awhile, letting some of the pain blow away, but as much as he thought he would recover, he knew his mental state was never gonna be the same again.
Even if tony forgave him, Elliott still doesn't forgive himself for not trying hard enough to stop thanos, Elliott was mad he let the man just destroy them so easily, thanos was powerful, to god damn powerful.
Elliott ate a small breakfast, before heading to the medical lab. Ever since that day he fought thanos, he's felt different, he felt powerful.
Elliott walked down the halls of the avengers facility, making a few turns before he pushed open the doors to the medical lab.
Elliott clapped his hands together. "Okay, Friday. Time to get to work."
The lights of the lab turned on, illuminating the white room that Elliott was now very fond of. And one of his favorite songs started to play lowly. Hypnotize by the one and only, the notorious B.I.G.
For someone who lives in New York, it's kinda cliché but he doesn't care.
"How is your morning going so far, Miller?" Friday asked.
"Splendid." Elliott replied.
"How are you feeling?"
Elliott sat down on the chair he's been sitting on for the past year. A desk right in front of him. "I'm okay, Friday. Never been better." Elliott said sarcastically.
"Miller, you are not in a good state mentally. You show high signs of anxiety and depression." Friday pointed out.
"Did you scan me?"
"As soon as you called out for me I did."
"Of course." Elliott shook his head, letting out a light sigh as he pushed a few buttons on the chair. "Look, I'm not here for a therapy session—"
"I would greatly recommend you take Therapy, the history of your mental isn't pretty, first you were taken from your home as you watched you parents die in front of you. You were experimented on for countless years. And if I'm wrong you saw worse in Canada. Not to mention the physical toll your healing factor takes on your body—"
