Meant to Be

Tony rubbed his eyes with his thumb and index finger, dragging them to the bridge of his nose and massaging the spot.

“Tell me again,” he said gravely, clearing his throat. The sunlight bounced off of the field of clouds beneath his plane and hit his eyes, aggravating his aching head. He shut the sliding blind forcefully, feeling a surge of anger blind him for a moment. The doctor replied calmly.

“Well… sir… essentially when we tried to jump start the technology, we fried her nerves and her heart couldn’t take it. Her peripheral nerves will either repair themselves in the next month, or the damage done will be permanent… More than likely, it’s going to be permanent, sir.”

Tony took another moment to think, continuing to rub his eyes and the bridge of his nose.

“I’ll be there in thirty. Keep her calm. Keep the Captain and his Soldier away from her. I don’t need them escalating this shit.”

“She has been quite calm, sir. She’s actually… somewhat pleased.”

“Yeah, I’m not,” Tony responded sharply. “You guys fucked something up. She’s damaged now.” He felt his voice getting deeper and louder. “You better be sure this doesn’t happen with the Soldier, or we’re all in deep shit. Maybe the girl wasn’t a priority, but he has to be.” Tony ended the call, taking in a deep breath and leaning forward to put his elbows on his knees and his head in his hand. He let the breath out with a groan.

Chick watched the doctor close the phone slowly, not looking at her.

'She’s damaged… Girl wasn’t a priority…’

She had only caught a few words from the tail of his conversation after he had walked in, but it was enough.

“I’m just checking in, Ms. Abbott. How are you feeling?” Chick smiled timidly.

“Just fine, Dr. Wright.” He took out a pen from his pocket and lifted up the bottom of the bed sheet. She itched to see the flash of her metal leg, but the blanket covered it.

“Feel that?” Chick closed her eyes, concentrating on her foot.

“I feel… I feel pressure. Like… I know that something is touching the bottom of my foot. But I don’t know what it is or if it hurts.” The doctor nodded, putting his pen back into his pocket.

“We can only assume that you won’t be able to feel pain or temperature. You’ll have to be careful of biting your tongue or getting overheated. Pressure is about all you’ll feel. We’re still hopeful that within a month or so, your nerves might repair themselves, Ms. Abbott. You should be hopeful, too.”

Chick blinked slowly and looked down at her feet underneath the blanket. Two feet.

“It’s okay, I don’t mind it if I’m damaged,” she said. “Can you take the blanket off, please?” she asked the doctor, remembering that she promised to limit her movement. He smiled at her.

“Tomorrow, we’ll start your physical therapy. You’ll learn to control your limbs again and adapt to the new strength you’ll have. But, for now, try not to move. You need one more day to heal. You just gotta trust me.” She nodded, feeling excited.

She tried not to notice that she didn’t feel the excitement in her stomach, like she would have before. When the doctor lifted the blanket and she saw her sleek, long leg, she didn’t care what she felt or didn’t feel. She had two legs. She wanted to stand up and run. She wanted to jump.

On her other leg, the silver cuff extension was buried in the skin on her ankle, just like in her wrists. They were connected through her limbs, attached to her bones and nerves- they were now a part of her.

“Mr. Stark will be here within the hour-” In her peripherals, Chick saw someone moving in the hall outside of her room. She turned to look and saw a man in black with shoulder-length brown hair for just a second before he had walked beyond her room. “He’ll be here to discuss the post-op therapy you’ll receive under his care. Do you have any questions before I go?” He replaced the blanket over her legs. Chick gave him a tight smile, shaking her head, playing the clip over and over. That man…

“Thanks, doc.” The doctor left her room with a final comforting smile.

She let her smale fade and looked out into the hall where she saw the man, continuing to play the clip on loop. All she saw of him was the side of his head and his back- she hadn’t really seen anything, but still, she felt something important scratching at the back of her mind.

Chick stretched the fingers in her left hand to reach the remote. The television controls were on the bottom half of the controls. She turned on the big, flat screen TV on the wall across from her and found the news.

“-The President will have a meeting with the United Nations to discuss the IEAs and how to proceed-” Chick changed the channel quickly.

“-Is HYDRA back from the dead-”

“-20 dead and 33 more injured from this morning’s car pile-up in Santa Monica, California. We have exclusive footage of Iron Man’s dismal attempts to stop the bus-”

“-What’s up, doc?” Chick let out a thankful sigh, settling on Looney Tunes, grateful to find anything other than news. She relaxed her tense shoulders and closed her eyes.

The man in the hallway came to mind once again. She saw his hair, his hunched shoulders, a sharp jawline with five o’clock shadow-

She saw the Winter Soldier turning to leave her for dead.

She forced her eyes open and took in a sharp gasp for air as she felt her body jolt in a shock of pain. She let out a squeak of surprise and pain. Her legs, her arms, her back, her head, all the way through to her bones- she felt sharp, shredding pains wrack her body. She couldn’t move, she couldn't’ breathe, she couldn’t scream for help. It was like she was paralyzed from the pain. She heard the machines around her beeping faster and felt her heart pick up from crippling fear.

“Help-” she tried to say. Her voice squeaked tightly. Her skin was on fire. “Help-” she squeaked louder. Her heart pounded in her chest- it was like there was a vice grip around it.

Suddenly, she saw two nurses rushing to her room.

“Help-” she pleaded. “Help- help- help-” She had to close her eyes as she saw clouds of black fade into her vision.

“Page Dr. Wright, it looks like she’s having a heart attack,” one of the nurses said, pressing a button on the side of the bed to lower the back rest. Chick struggled to breathe.

“Ms. Abbott, try to take slow, deep breaths,” the other nurse added. Chick’s breathing was fast and shallow, she couldn’t breathe any deeper than that. She pried her eyes open, staring up at the ceiling.

“Help-” she repeated. Her mind was running in circles- the Winter Soldier, her leg, her nerves, her bones.

“It’s not a heart attack,” she heard the doctor say. “Give her Thorazine- Charlotte, hey. Charlotte, you need to calm down.” She felt someone grab her hand and she gripped it tightly.

“Help-” she begged. She couldn’t focus her thoughts or her breathing. Her heart burned in her chest.

“Charlotte,” the doctor said again. She suddenly saw his face above her.

“Help-”

“Charlotte, you’re having a panic attack. Charlotte, you’re okay. You have to breathe.”

Chick gasped for air

“It’s all in your head, Charlotte.”

Suddenly, Chick felt the pain in her heart begin to subside. Her skin cooled and her muscles relaxed.

“Good, Charlotte, you’re doing good. You’re okay, you’re safe.”

She took in a deep breath, finally, coughing to open her airways. She shut her eyes tightly to clear tears from her vision.

The machines’ beeping slowed. The doctor shined a light into her eyes quickly and then listened to her heart.

Chick focused on her breathing and the beeping. Someone had turned off the TV and taken away her pillows and blanket. She felt as if she was alone, frozen in time. She let out a soft whimper.

“You’re doing great, Charlotte,” the doctor said again.

“I- I- I thought… I saw him,” Chick stuttered, still struggling to even her breathing.

“It’s okay, you’re safe here… Now, Charlotte, I need you to tell me if you feel this.” Chick waited, continuing to stare at the ceiling.

“Okay, go ahead,” she prompted, continuing to wait. She felt a light pressure on her upper arm. She looked to her side, watching a nurse put a bandaid across her skin. “I can feel that,” she said. The doctor gave her a sad smile.

“We gave you an injection, Charlotte. You didn’t respond to it.” Chick said nothing, suddenly feeling disheartened by this. “Your nerves haven’t healed, I’m sorry. Your brain was just responding to stimulus in the only way it knew how.” One nurse pulled her blanket up over her legs and stomach and the the other one lifted her head to put her pillows back.

“The pain was all in my head,” she stated glumly. “I can still remember pain. So, even if it isn’t real… I can still feel the pain.” The doctor sighed, nodding slowly.

“I’m sorry, Charlotte.”

Chick felt no pain other than loneliness.