Stark's Shadow

Chapter 33 - 80s Slang is How I Cope with Life

I sat at the edge of my bed, glaring at the Emo Iron Man. I was determined to not need it today. Slowly, I got up from my bed. I took a few steps, shakily at first. But I reached the door.

I reach to open the door and fall, a few seconds later Tony opens the door.

"Hi, airhead," I greet from the floor.

"Trying to get back to the underworld, Hades?" He mocks as he lightly shakes from trying to avoid laughing.

"Only to escape you,"

He helps me stand up and with his support, I get back to the Emo Iron Man. I let the device adjust around my legs for a few seconds then sit back down. I look up at Tony who smiles back.

"Don't be stupid. Use the mobility aid." He walks up to a wall decoration and fixes it, not facing me before he speaks again. "If you can't, you'll have to be put in the med bay again. I don't think you'd like that."

I exhale, "Not even a little," I flick my wrist and watch as the room nearly goes black from all the shadows fixing the room, "I guess I'll have to keep mottorin' 'round in this thing."

He turns to face me, a tight smile on his face, "You got this,"

I nod, "I always do," I stand up, "So, what are you here for, nerd?"

"Wanted to make sure you're doing alright,"

I nod, "Nothing I can't handle, homeslice. How are you?"

Tony rolls his eyes dramatically, "Worse now that you've called me homeslice, Ollie," He jokes.

I laugh, "You're handling everything alright? You've got lots of hard news lately. I'd be totally wigging out if I were you."

"I'm fine," He assures, "Though if you keep up with the eighties slang, I will be wigging out, as you say."

"I'd have added airhead to the end of that sentence, airhead," I correct, jokingly shaking a finger at him.

He rolls his eyes and scoffs. He turns to the door throws it open and leaves.

"Shut my door, asshole!" I yell, but it's a fruitless attempt. I go shut my own door, like some peasant. My life is so hard.

~

"So, where is Batty Natty? Still sleeping off her crash?" Tony asks in a lull in the conversation.

"No, she's experimenting with poison, again!" Clint says in a slightly aggressive tone before biting his toast with more anger than needed.

"I'm sorry, again?" Bruce asks with concern.

"I don't want to talk about it," He gets up and grabs the coffee pot and takes a sip.

I scrunch my nose, "Gross, Clint. That's from yesterday,"

He shrugs and takes a sip.

Tony slides his cup over, and Clint fills it before sliding it back across the table. They didn't even look at each other. Not a word was spoken.

I exhale loudly and glare at the three men at the table. Not a single response. This is how women end up with a murderous alter ego.

"Can we get back to the poison thing?" I ask, "Why is Nat into poison? Has she been hanging out with Belladonna?"

Clint shrugs and finishes off the pot in a few gulps. I don't know how he's alive. He sets the coffee pot down and looks at me, "You know as much as I do."

"Joy," My voice is full of anything but.

"I didn't know you felt that, Hades," Tony jokes.

"Remember how I almost murdered you?" I ask, "It's never too late to finish a mission."