"Why do I never take off the suit?", her question bounced around my head as I studied the damage in the mirror. The hard solid shell of the right arm had been replaced by a jumble of blood, oil and loose wires, with a sigh I moved to the work bench and tapped a key on the laptop, within a second it was waiting for my command. I picked up the diagnostic USB cable and found the hidden port on the suits torso, the laptop paused for a few milliseconds before recognising the suit and the screen went into a frenzy spewing real time info and damage assessment on the suits systems. Good news, it was mostly superficial, except for the trashed arm of course but meh I was wanting to upgrade a few things anyway.
I leant over the laptop and pressed a few keys, the suit stiffened and I could hear the internal clasps unlock as I stepped out on to the cold concrete floor. The air was chilly as was always the case when there was no machines humming away. A sharp pain reminded me that my arm was not in the best of shape, nothing broken thankfully just a gash from a sharp piece of metal.
As I moved towards the sink to rinse off my bloody arm I caught my skinny angular frame in the mirror, my muscles had gotten to the point of almost fatigue. That's the problem when you live in a machine that does everything for you. Luckily I hadn't gotten fat, but then again you need to eat to be fat. Sometimes I really dislike what I had become, the sacrifices that no one realises I make to continue doing this, as it was the easiest thing in the world.
I looked down at my burnt hands and legs and remembered the pain that I endured every time I put on the suit until I had sorted the overheating issue. Multiple scars and semi-healed wounds snaked there away around my fragile body, like physical manifestations of my adventures as Iron Man.
I wiped away as much of the blood and oil as I could and went to the fridge, Water or beer? The choice was obvious. My stomach growled at the prospect of food. It had been almost 48 hours since I had last slept and it was was a higher priority than eating. I shuffled back into the room and a sharp smoky tang hit the back of my throat, almost tripping over various stripped computers and various other equipment I lunged towards the now on fire suit and dowsed the flames with my beer, disconnected the power cells and dropped them into the used pile that was gathering in the corner.
I drew the now near empty bottle to my dry lips and chugged what was left, the cold liquid was incredibly satisfying. Tossing the bottle into the nearest bin I fell onto the bed, pulled the sheets over my frail legs and shut my eyes. Hoping that this sleep would last.