*Please note that Elliot Dawes is an OC of mine and that this happens after Avengers Assembled and before Captain America 2, carrying on into that timeline.*
For the first time in months, I found myself alone in the hospital room. The horrible, lime walls and white ceiling were far too familiar to me now. I felt much better being alone than I did with all the guards and doctors and visitors. Steve had been called out to take out a few known HYDRA bases whilst hunting for Red Skull, Natasha Romanoff was out doing other missions, Director Fury had SHIELD to run, no one knows Coulson's alive yet and the SHIELD agents left to watch me don't speak to me. It's rather lonely having doctors and SHIELD agents around you twenty-four seven yet none of them speak directly to you. I was progressing remarkably well for my physiotherapy and rehab but not quick enough for my liking. Every time I close my eyes I see that horrible, red face, I feel the pain, the fear, everything. I wake up drenched in a cold sweat and screaming. No one comforts me. No one reminds me that I'm in a hospital and I'm safe. They just give me stronger sleeping medication and leave. When Steve was here, he would be there. He would crawl in beside me and hold me. I know sometimes he has nightmares, he sometimes wakes up yelling Bucky's name during the night if he nods off in the chair. We comfort each other. Now that he's gone, I didn't realise how much my recovery relied on him. It made me feel so weak and useless. I desperately wanted to get back out there, to get researching for a better future. I wanted to creature the trackers that react to fear and stress. I want to create portals that allow you to escape. I want to create ways of finding the villains and stopping them. I want to be useful. Last time Fury was in, he mentioned he might put me in Stark Labs so I have someone to keep an eye on me and keep me safe. It gave me hope. I could work with Stark and Banner and all their amazing science stuff. Nothing more was said however.
"C'mon, Elliot, you've been doing really well," Kelly my physiotherapist encouraged me.
My arms were shaking against the bars as I tried to move forward. The leg sometimes wouldn't react quickly enough. I fell forward and lay in a humiliated heap, close to tears. Kelly went to help me but a voice stopped her.
"No, no, she has to think this through," said a familiar voice. "Listen, Dawes, you're thinking about this all the wrong way,"
It was Stark. The tears stopped forming when he spoke. I turned and looked up at him. He had the hand pieces of an Iron Man suit in his hands. That's when it made sense.
"Of course!" I cried out loud. "I'm thinking about this in all the wrong directions. The leg isn't my leg, it's an extension to my body. I need to stop thinking about it was my leg and start thinking about it like it's an extension to my leg. Like you're suit or Hawkeye's bow."
I was on my feet before I knew I was moving, Kelly looked amazed, Stark looked impressed. I stopped trying to control my leg and started treated it like a weapon. It became easier to wield when I began treating it like my own personal suit of armour around my leg. I was walking and running like before. My new leg made me feel powerful. It made me want to become stronger. I'm not going to let anyone hurt me again.
It took me several more months of arguing, tests and therapy before they allowed me to even step outside. Steve was there, along with a whole load of doctors. I stepped outside and took in a deep breath. It was so good to feel fresh air. The air was crisps meaning it was late autumn. God, I've lost so much time. The days and months had just kind of smushed together for a while. I stopped caring to be honest. Before they could stop me, I burst forward. I raced across the car park, feeling my leg pump and struggle to keep up with my metal one. It was so bizarre, only feeling the burning sensation in one leg. I was still pretty weak and I couldn't go as far or as fast as I could. I made it to the end of the car park before my lungs packed in. as I leant against a pillar, Steve came jogging up to me.
"Keep that up and I might have you join my team," Steve told me, passing me a bottle of water.
"Don't tempt me," I wheezed back.
I vowed to get stronger, to get better. I wasn't about to be walked all over again. The sooner I get out of the hospital, the sooner I can get back to work and training. The desire to leave was overwhelming. It gets boring day in and out trapped in a bed.