Universal Displacement

Finding, Plotting, Falling

Tony!

Maybe Tony could help! She knew he wasn't a doctor or a neurologist or anything, but maybe a few brain scans would do her some good.

Sutton hailed a cab, gave her address, and then pulled out her phone as the taxi entered traffic. Her fingers were starting to tremble against her will as she attempted to send a text to Tony. As soon as she'd sent it she received an automated reply in return.

[My apologies, but Mr. Stark is currently not accepting calls or messages of any kind.]

[JARVIS, you know who this is. Where is he? It could be kinda important.]

JARVIS was quick again in response.

[Miss Regan, Mr. Stark is currently taking time off at his home in California. He has instructed me to tell you that if you are not in the tabloids by his return, he will be very disappointed in you.]

[He's a ridiculous person, JARVIS. I hardly know how you put up with him.]

[I take one day at a time, Miss Regan.]

Sutton snorted back laughter, trying not to draw attention from her cab driver. She was almost back to her apartment anyway; who cared if the cabbie thought she was crazy for laughing at an AI's jokes. She thought for an AI he was remarkably witty.

As she tucked her phone back into her bag she remembered why she'd been trying to reach Tony in the first place and sighed. They mystery symptoms could probably wait until he got back. She probably was just stressed and was making a big deal out of nothing anyway.

She was not making a big deal out of nothing! Sutton shrieked louder than she ever had before and fell sideways off her couch in a mad flailing of limbs. Her dinner plate spilled onto the floor, forgotten in the sudden scramble. Sutton pulled herself up onto her knees and thrust her left hand in front of her face. And then she screamed a bloodcurdling scream that was sure to give the neighbors nightmares for the next six months.

Her left hand was gone.

Gone.

Her mind was on fire as she blinked stupidly at where her hand should be.

The heck, the heck, THE HECK?

In a fleet, blipping moment of clarity, Sutton struggled to pull herself up fully and dove for her phone. She hit the speed dial with her right hand.

[I am sorry, Mr. Stark-]

Sutton seethed in a wild panic.

"JARVIS, you tell Tony right now that if he doesn't answer this phone I will personally destroy each and every one of his beloved Iron Man suits after I dress Dummy up as Wall-E and-"

The phone suddenly clicked.

"Small Fry?" Sutton could have cried. Oh, wait. No. She already was. "What's up, kid? JARVIS said he was detecting odd fluctuations in speech pattern and-"

"TONY. Tony, Tony, Tony."

"Yes, me. Now wha-"

"MY HAND IS GONE, TONY. I am l-looking at where my left hand should be and-and i-it's gone!"

"Excuse me?"

Sutton let out an enraged shriek and used the one had she still had to turn on the video capabilities on her phone. She shoved her left arm, stubbed at the wrist, in front of the camera and glowered fiercely. Her pupils were blown wide and her nostrils flared.