In the Hamptons... |
In the Hamptons...
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Jun. 9th, 2009 @ 07:35 pm
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The next few hours? Days? It doesn't much matter. It's a hazy of pain, dirt, explosions, and people screaming things he might be able to figure out if he wasn't too weak to move.
There's a man over him, and he adds a weight to his chest. His voice is gentle yet frightened. "Do not move, Mr. Stark."
"Where -" His voice almost kills him to use. He's so weak.
"Don't move yet. I am attempting to save your life."
Now he can make out the image. An old man leans over him, peering at his chest with tools in hand. "I apologize for any pain... I am limited in what I can give you for it."
"What -?" He can't even say happened. He screws his eyes shut and tries to breathe.
"Your vehicle was caught in a minefield," the man explains with a thick Korean accent. "You were brought here, and I..." He pauses in concentration, and Tony feels a pain as something penetrates his chest and the bone beneath it.
His body jerks reflexively. Dimly, he realizes there's some kind of topical anesthetic on his chest but it's also about as effective as running a sportscar on straight-from-the ground oil.
"...there. That will save your life... at least for the moment."
He applies a damp, cool towel to Tony's forehead. "Here, we are not safe. But you are alive... for the time being. Rest."
"No!" He rasps, willing himself to get up. Someone will be looking for him. He's important. He's -
Dying. Something in his head just knows he's not doing well. To hell with that! He's an American and Americans don't just LET things happen!
He coughs and looks around. "...has to be something..."
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