PEPPER P. (saltedand) wrote in rooms, @ 2014-08-12 13:44:00 |
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Entry tags: | !marvel comics, *narrative, pepper potts |
Marvel: narrative, Pepper P
Who: Pepper Potts
What: Sedation & Stage III
When: After not telling Tony (sorry Tony)
Where: Stark Tower
Pepper Potts had never taken a day sick in ten years. The sniffles? She went in. The 100 degree fever at a benefit? Someone had complimented her blush. She'd taken the flu to her office, sat red-eyed and rabbity behind a desk and sorted through HR complaints but she'd not been sick, flattened to a bed, unable to put on armor of pressed cotton and dry-cleaned suits and get herself there.
Now fever crept through her bones, rattled her core. Her jaw ached from keeping her teeth quiet in her head, a hard and dull pain that was both immediate and very far away. But the imprint of objects, bristling the walls like teeth meant now was enough.
"JARVIS," she said clearly. The AI was a blue glow in darkness, a deliberate certainty comprised of ones, zeroes and the genius of a man very, very far away.
Yes, Ms Potts. She still didn't know why he'd made the thing English.
"I need you to give me the sedation. And JARVIS? Tony doesn't know." It was an order, not a statement.
If AIs could sound disapproving, JARVIS was probably the acme of advanced technology. It was a terse response. Yes, Ms Potts.
A drawer opened in the wall, sleekly unobtrusive. Something plastic, capped metal bounced in the bottom, clattered. A syringe. Her eyes wouldn't focus, her hair stuck stickily to her forehead. Going there to get it was less likely. She held out a hand, the needle's capped spike sailed toward her, elegance in brevity.
"JARVIS." Blue light flared: assumption? Or hallucination? She didn't know, her pupils shrank to slits.
Yes, Ms Potts? He sounded like Steve, she decided, uncapping the syringe with unsteady fingers. Polite to a fault.
"If they don't work it out," a hiss of breath, needle plunged, "Would you tell him..." But the sedative worked, lurched through bloodstream and her head tipped back against the wall, eyelids sliding shut, the syringe dropping, skittering on floor tiles.
Yes, Ms Potts. The blue light dimmed.