Who: Pepper P & Resurrection Man What: Visiting. When: Shortly after said almost-death is all over the news. Status: Unfinished.
[The cab ride was interminable. The strong smell of chinese food and vanilla air-freshener dangling from the rear-view and a cab driver who wanted to philosophize about Stark Industries, and she wound down the window, hair drying to the back of her neck and dripping down the back of her navy shirt, and watched New York pass by, tuning him out. She skipped the front entrance (there were a horde of reporters huddled like buzzards with extra-long lenses) and went for the back. There was always a back entrance and she looked for where the corridor clotted with people in white coats and blue security uniforms. Tony caused a stir, even when trying to die.
She skipped the nurses' station. She broke the rules and she looked for the cardiac wing signs and she waited until the sound of shoulder radios drifted down the corridor to the background buzz of the reporters and people churning out front. One door, 'Stark' written in marker on white board outside it, and her ribs were crushing her lungs so tightly she couldn't breathe. The door handle lock warped under her fingers, and she shut the door behind her, as quietly as she could and peered through the glass to see if the security detail had skipped by. And then she turned to face the man made smaller by the bed and the uniformity of cotton sheets and smiled over the need to cry.]