𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗦𝗜𝗥𝗘𝗡 | 𝗡. 𝗥𝗢𝗠𝗔𝗡𝗢𝗙𝗙

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"She hasn't woken up," Truth finished for her.

Head traumas were tricky. Truth had observed a few of her own, and, despite it being one of her specialties, she didn't enjoy them much. It was unnerving to see an injured mind in its entirety, let alone feel it.

It wasn't like sleep—it was emptiness.

It felt like death. And, Truth should know—she was rather well acquainted with both the dying and the dead.

"Do they know what caused it?" Truth questioned. "Was it the surgery, or the bleeding, or something else?"

"The surgery did result in some intense swelling, but they are expecting that to subside within the next few days. They're still running some tests, but I thought I'd let you know in case you wanted to see things for yourself."

Conference Room 42-F was on the left side of the hall on the 42nd floor. Though caught slightly off-guard by the agent there waiting for her, she walked into the room as she started to wrap up the call.

"I'm afraid I won't have the time to drop by just yet, but definitely keep me posted. If anything, I'll call ahead to let you know of any change of plans on my part."

"Of course. Though, before you do whatever it is you're about to do, try not to get into any trouble, okay? Mom won't be very happy if I have to tell her about another one of your insane missions."

Truth smiled at the comment as she sat in the seat across from her uncle, who gave her a raised brow.

"I don't 'get into trouble'. More like unfortunate situations tend to introduce themselves to me and I'm usually involved with the cleanup."

"Same thing, Lee."

"No, it's not. Thank you for the update, though. Stay safe."

She hung up the call and dropped her phone onto the table, meeting Clarke's eyes with an amused smile.

"You're nosey," she commented.

"I didn't even say anything?" Clarke defended. "You're the one who came in here while you were on the phone."

"You're the one who paged me."

"I didn't page you with the intention to eavesdrop."

"No, but it just worked out so well that you didn't have to," she replied with a smirk. "When did you come back, anyway? It's only been two weeks."

"Technically, I never left."

The door opened then, and Truth raised a brow when her eyes met a beautiful emerald-green framed by a curly red. Natasha's brows furrowed as she looked between them.

"Sorry," she said, only slightly flustered as she double checked her pager. Truth watched in amusement, taking in the sight of the assassin in her S.H.I.E.L.D. uniform. Truth didn't usually like the thing, but when it was on Natasha it was a different story. "I must've misread the—"