The next morning I really didn't want to get out of bed. Every muscle in my body ached and I dreaded knowing what had happened that night between Steve, Bucky and dad. He had come home early in the morning around 4 am, looking worse than when I had last seen him. His suit was ruined and he was carrying Steve's shield. Something had seriously gone wrong. I didn't dare ask him what happened though, I just went to sleep again.
When I was having breakfast he entered the kitchen looking like he had just held up the world. I wanted to feel sorry for him, but it was his fault. If he had just listened to us all the fighting wouldn't have happened.
" How long does the cast need to be on?" he asked me while sitting down opposite of me with a cup of coffee, all black, no sugar or milk.
I looked at the purple cast that matched my hair " Three months." I ignored his eyes and ate my cornflakes.
" O," he started " Are you okay?" He was joking right? How could he possibly think I could be okay?
I looked up from my bowl, right into his eyes. " No dad, I am NOT okay. I'm in this boring place with nothing to do except for watching movies and reading. And on top of that you locked the lab!"
" Would you rather be in the middle of the ocean?" he asked angrily.
I huffed " At least I would have my friends there."
" Talking about your friends," he turned around the conversation " They're sending Clint and Scott home on house arrest as well."
" What about the rest?" I asked wondering about Wanda the most. They couldn't possibly leave her there, she was my age, she was a kid.
" They're staying there until secretary Ross says differently." was dad's answer.
" They don't deserve to be in there." I said, it was true, Sam and Wanda shouldn't be in there. Knowing how they had tied up Wanda made me sad. And I felt guilty that I was home and she wasn't.
" It's their own fault." dad told me getting some cornflakes himself. He couldn't be serious about this,
" Their fault? You did this to us, you and your stupid team." I said angry. But he didn't like the tone I gave him
" You were helping a criminal!" he practically yelled.
If he was yelling I was gonna yell even harder " Who was framed! You were wrong dad! We tried to tell you but, you didn't listen to us!" if he had just listened to us, no one would be in jail or on house arrest or in the hospital.
" Can you blame me?" he asked now calmer " The man tried to kill our friends a few years ago." He had a point there, but if he had just listened.
It was silent after that, we both ate our breakfast. Then I noticed dad had more injuries than I remembered. Did he have a fight? " What happened in Siberia dad?" I asked him, not sure if I wanted to know or not.
" Steve, Bucky and I had a fight." he sighed.
" A fight? Dad you were supposed to go as a friend." I reminded him.
" I don't wanna talk about it." was his answer.
" What about the soldiers?" I asked, he had to tell me what had happened.
" They were dead when we got there." he stated. He looked sad, broken down. Something seriously wrong must have happened.
" Are you okay dad? You want me to check your arm?" I asked when he grabbed his left arm again.
" I'm fine." he told me.
" Did a doctor look at it?" I asked still worried, he didn't need his arm to be messed up even more.
" No, but-"
" You're getting it checked out when you go see Rhodey." I told him.
" I'm not-" he tried but I cut him off
" Let's just, not argue about it, please. Didn't work out that great last time." I joked, hoping he would crack a smile.
And he did, " Fine." he smiled. At least we could still laugh after all that had happened.
After breakfast dad left for the hospital and I went back to my room. I put on some music and started sketching. Daniel Powter's Bad day was playing. After around an hour I looked at what I had drawn. I smiled a sad smile, it was a sketch of Pietro. After all that had happened I still kinda missed him. I would always, he was protecting me when he died. I put the sketch in a map and started another one. This time I designed a new suit design. And after that for some reason, I drew the Spider-Man. His suit was fascinating, I knew dad had made it so I tried to figure out how he did it.
Dad came home in the afternoon. I was making dinner when he entered the kitchen. " How is he?" I asked him. I had been worrying about Rhodey ever since he had been hit.
" They operated but, he isn't gonna walk again. At least not on his own." That news hit pretty hard. Never?
" You can make something for him, right? Something to help him walk?" I asked him, praying to god he would be able to. He nodded. "Thank god." I sighed. When he sat down I noticed dad's arm was being held in a sling. I was happy he had it checked out.
" What's for dinner?" he asked.
" Pasta." I told him. We ate dinner and decided to watch a movie together.
" They're checking in on you tomorrow." he told me when the movie was over and I put on another one " I know you don't like Ross but, just go with whatever he says okay." I wasn't in the mood to see him, and I really didn't want to see him more than necessary.
" Okay." I said.
After the second movie I went to bed and dad went to the lab. I needed to find a way to get in there.