[RP] It’s a strange four-color love; it’s a sanctum built for two

[beingabadass]

The amount of times Tony had to be dragged straight to a hospital after a fight ended are small enough that Rhodey can probably count them on one hand, and serious enough that every time damn near gave him a heart attack. He doesn't like dwelling on them much; it's not going to do anyone any good. But he'd take most of them a hundred times over again instead of having to deal with today.

At least he usually knows what's going on. Even if what's wrong downright scares him sometimes, he knows. But with Tony unconscious and no legal weight at all behind his arguments, Rhodey hasn't been able to find out anything important. And unlike Tony, he can't just buy the hospital and demand they tell him what's going on; arguing's all he's got.

It takes hours to get anything concrete. Rhodey gave up on trying not to pace a long time ago when they finally tell him that Tony's awake and he can see him. He doesn't let them keep him any longer than that; he doesn't stop until he's standing outside the room, and takes a second to take a breath and try to wipe the worst of the worry off his face. An effort that's completely wasted when he gets through the door, but he doesn't care, too busy taking in the immediate visible damage and being relieved to see Tony up and awake.

Comments

[nottheworstthing]

Waking up aching and disoriented in a hospital bed isn't exactly a new and exciting experience for Tony these days. It doesn't happen all that often - he'll tend to evade the hospital if in any way conscious enough to do so effectively - but it's been known to happen. And while hospital isn't exactly his favorite place in the world, he's definitely came to in worse places in his time. But still. When he regains consciousness groggy and hurting in an unfamiliar place with unfamiliar hands on him, his instinct is to struggle.

It takes a long and horrible disoriented moment of having no idea where he is or what's happening before the cues - the sterile whiteness, the scrubs, the antiseptic smell in the air - clue him in and he stills. On the heels of realization comes memory; he winces, putting a hand to his temple, and his fingertips encounter stitches there. And after that-- after the immediate questions of where he is and what happened have been answered, after the memories of the ferocity of the fight have started to come back, comes the horrible frozen moment of why the hell is he alone in here.

Their "family members only in the recovery ward" policy doesn't stand up for long against the fuss Tony's kicking up.

He couldn't have hidden the relief in his eyes if he'd wanted to, and he doesn't even try. There's always that fear, that nagging doubt, that what if, and it lifts a weight from his shoulders that he hadn't realized he was carrying to see Rhodey in one piece. He grins. "Hey."