Amelia's blue eyes weakly fluttered open, and it took her a few moments to push aside the blurriness. Slowly focusing, she saw Clint pacing the room as her mother sat hunched in a chair, both clearing worried. "Я жив…" she choked out and her parents rushed over to her. "Сделал… кого-то… умереть?"
"There were no fatalities," Natasha whispered, gripping Amelia's hand as Clint took the other. "The only ones injured were you and your friend." Amelia closed her eyes again.
"Is… he okay?"
"He is," Clint assured. "He got you both out by yelling." Gently, her father squeezed her shoulder and Amelia relaxed, feeling better that Chris was alive and no one was killed.
"We'll be back soon," her mother whispered and stood, her parents reluctantly leaving to give Amelia time to rest. Opening her eyes slightly, she spotted them being greeted by Fury outside the window and sighed softly, closing her eyes once more.
A few days later, Amelia was feeling better. Her side still hurt from where she was gashed by debris, but other than that she was more awake and lively. Her parents were talking to Fury to see if there was a way for her to get back to S.H.I.E.L.D. to heal, since it would be much safer, but it was a long process. Sighing in boredom, she slumped down on the bed.
Amelia sat up as someone entered her room, and blinked in surprise when she saw Chris being wheeled in by a nurse, who then left them alone. "Chris, how are you doing?"
"Better then you," he replied, concern darkening his gray gaze. "I had some bruises and scrapes, and my leg was broken, but nothing else."
Amelia snorted. "I have the same as you but instead of a broken leg, I got gashes and bruised ribs again." She sighed and chirped, "But the good news is that we were the only ones wounded and no one was killed." Chris raised an eyebrow and she defended, "Hey, it would be a lot better if we got out scot-free as well, but at least we weren't killed!"
Chris raised his hands and replied, "You're right, that is good nothing else terrible happened." He wheeled himself over to the bed and inquired, "How are you feeling?"
"Extremely sore but better," Amelia grunted and gave a wry grin. "Mind you, I've been through worse."
"True," Chris muttered. "I still can't believe you're alive after all of that."
Amelia snorted. "Ah, thanks for the support. I get told that a lot. Wait, why do you get to wheel around when I can't?" Chris shrugged and the nurse poked her head in.
"Time to leave, dear," she told Chris. "Amelia needs to rest." Chris glanced at Amelia reluctantly before wheeling back away from the bed and turning awkwardly, leaving.
"But I'm not tired," Amelia protested, but the nurse ignored her and shut the door once Chris left. Sighing, Amelia slumped down again, staring up at the ceiling. Sighing, she closed her eyes and let her body relax.
Later that day, Amelia was toying around with the sheets, obviously fed up. When a nurse came in to check on her, Amelia asked, "Can I have a pen or pencil and some paper?"
The nurse looked horrified. "No, you can't, dear. You could stab yourself with the writing utensil."
Amelia's eye twitched in exasperation, so she asked, "Can I have a book to read?" The nurse turned and left the room, the girl sighing loudly and shaking her head. "This is a terrible hospital," she grumbled. Finally, the nurse came back and handed Amelia a small book. "What?! This is a children's book! I've read this a ton of times when I was little! Don't you have something else?"
"Sorry, dear," the nurse replied, sounding irritated. "But that's the only thing we have for children." Amelia's jaw dropped and the nurse left the room. Restraining herself from chucking the book across the room, she placed it on the small table next to the bed and buried her head in her hands, groaning loudly in exasperation.
The next day, her mother came back to the hospital to check on her daughter, her husband still discussing options with Fury to get Amelia out. Amelia twiddled her thumbs, humming softly as her eyes jumped around the hospital room. Just then, Natasha stepped inside and stopped when she saw her daughter acting a little… crazy. "Are you alright?"
"No, I am not," Amelia cried, sitting up and planting her hands on her legs. "I am going to go crazy without anything to do! I mean, look at the book they gave me to read! I tried to tell them I've read that, like, a million times when I was little, but would they listen to me? No, they just ignored me. When I asked for a pen or pencil and paper, they wouldn't give it to me because 'I could stab myself with the writing utensil' and they wouldn't give me paper because I had nothing to write with. Yet, they will give me a plastic knife to cut my food, and plastic knives can do a lot more damage. And it's not like I flail around the pen or pencil!" She gulped in a deep breath and slid down into the bed with a huff. "At least at the other hospital, they gave me a crossword puzzle to do! There were a ton of words to find and it was long, so it kept me busy!"
Natasha laughed and sat down on the bed next to her daughter. "Clint is trying to get you out as fast as he can." Amelia nodded, staring up at the ceiling.
"Good," she grumbled. "I need to get out of here. Oh, wanna know what else? They are letting Chris wheel around the hospital in a wheelchair, but they won't let me leave my room unless I need to use the restroom!" Natasha patted her daughter's arm sympathetically.
"I'll bring you something to do the next time I come," she promised and Amelia grinned.
"Thank you!"
Я жив... = I'm alive...
Сделал… кого-то… умереть? = Did... someone... die?