Chapter 4: The Grass Is Not Greener On The Other Side

I woke up to the worst hangover ever!

And my cold accommodations and the angry surround sound was not helping.

"I can't believe you did this without my consent."

"Technically, I did have…"

"That doesn't count. He's an idiot, just like you, apparently."

"Look, it was this, or let her die."

"She was already dead."

"You know what I mean, Bruce. Come on."

"You can't expect me to shrug this off, Tony. That's my baby cousin you experimented on. Instead of letting the dead stay dead, you've…"

"Saved her life!? You're welcome."

"Get out."

"But—"

"Don't test me Tony. He's already come out once today."

"At least let me—"

"No."

"Alright, alright. I'll check in—"

"Out. Now."

After that, there was blessed silence and I fell back into unconsciousness.

When I awoke the next time, my body hurt slightly less and I decided to risk opening my eyes.

Mistakes!

Mistakes have been made. Abort!

"Jen?"

My cousin was too loud.

"Shuuuup…" I slurred.

"Take it easy," Bruce blared out, instead of listening to me.

I tried to wave an arm in the general direction of his voice and hit a wall?

The thrum sounded all around me.

I groaned.

Too…loud!

Life was so hard. Can I quit please?

"I'm going to spray some more tranquilizer," Bruce said.

"Whaaaa?"

Mist drifted down from above and then sleep came again.

Thank god.

Third time's the charm. I woke up feeling like I hadn't slept in days, so basically another Monday.

Opening my eyes was a chore but no stabbing pain this time.

I saw Bruce watching me. He was standing behind a wall of glass.

I frowned.

Why was there glass? Where the heck was I?

"Jen, I need you to not freak out," Bruce said un-reassuringly.

I peered around me. I was lying on a metal bench inside of what looked to be a giant glass box and…what the hell was on my head?

"Just stay calm," Bruce said still as unhelpful as ever.

"What is this," I said, feeling the massive helmet.

"It's a device to monitor your neural synapses and metabol—

"Plain English Bruce!"

"It's a…mood hat?"

"A mood hat?" I repeated, raising both my eyebrows which was harder than it sounds thanks to the tin can pressing into my skull.

"It's like a mood ring for…your head?" Bruce said with less certainty than I would like.

"And why do I need a mood hat?" I demanded, looking past my glass box to the rest of the room. Bruce was surrounded by a whole lot of incomprehensible booping and beeping machines, scientific equipment, and flashing lights. "If you weren't standing here, I'd think I'd been abducted by aliens."

My cousin let out an unconvincing laugh that just made me sad.

"Bruce," I said. "The last thing I remember…I was…" shot multiple times in places that seemed vital for living. I glanced down at myself. I was in a long white nightshirt. I poked a spot on my arm where I swear a bullet had entered. It felt like perfectly normal skin and that felt wrong. "How am I alive right now? Was this morning a weird trip into the Matrix? Or did someone spike my drink with shrooms last night? Bruce?"

He was still just watching me.

Observing.

It was like I was an experiment. He even had a damn clipboard!

"Bruce!" I snapped. "I know we were arguing before and you like your science, but this isn't the sort of thing you do to…wait," I frowned again. "Did you do this? Or was it…yeah…was it Tony Stark? He was here, wasn't he? I know I heard his name earlier. He did this." That made sense. Good old Bruce wouldn't stick his cousin in a see-through cage just 'cause, but Tony Stark? Who knew what that guy would do? Convince my cousin to help him create an evil robot army? Using billion-dollar super-suits as fireworks? Make his secretary CEO and then marry her? Compared to that, sticking his friend's cousin into a test-tube for shits, giggles, and wacky science was small potatoes.

"Tony did put you in there," Bruce confirmed, at last. "But…Jen, I don't know how to tell you this."

Tell me what!?

But the words dried up in my mouth. Bruce's clinical façade had just dropped and the look he was giving me, I hadn't seen anything like it since…since never. And I'd been at his mom's funeral.

"Hey, it's okay," I said, doing my best to be a brave and inspiring guinea pig. "Whatever it is, we'll deal with it."

Bruce shook his head. "I wish it were that easy."

It probably wasn't, but all this stalling was just making things harder for both of us. "Just tell me what's wrong."

And so…he did.

And excuse me, folks…I uh…need a minute to get myself together.