The Yellow Wallpaper
Peter Parker awoke slowly that morning. He had been waking up and letting sleep take him back to oblivion over and over again. The windows were open all night and the only thing he could hear was the morning bird song. Eventually he gave up on sleep and lay flat on his back staring at the spots of dust floating in a ray of sunlight. His focus shifted to the pattern on the yellow wallpaper and how it was starting to peel at the corner where the wall met the ceiling. The drywall was discolored with water damage, probably mold. Peter thought of a quote he read recently, “Time is relentless, marching forever onward, stripping away everything in its path, with one exception: me.”
“Time to get up, Peter” Ned said, sitting on the edge of the bed.
Ned had been Peters best friend since middle school. He was the one person that got him out of his depression after his parents had died and the only reason Peter was still trying to survive in this post-apocalyptic hellscape he called ‘reality’.
“I’m up.” Peter groaned. Ned coughed his morning congestion away and put on his glasses. “You think we should be worried about that mold?” Peter said, pointing to the corner.
“Nah, It’s not black mold, right? It’s probably fine.” Ned was a very optimistic person.
Peter glanced at the Calendar on the wall. According to his tally, it was Sunday. Sundays were for maintaining Life Support Systems. Yesterday had been laundry day and he had pushed himself to finish washing and hanging all the bedding and repairing any tears in his clothes. He was still sore and stretched while sitting at the edge of the bed. He looked at his aunt and uncle's picture that sat on the side table. It had been three years to the day that Peter had lost his entire world to that damn virus. “Good morning, May; good morning, Ben.” He pulled his blanket up over his pillow and put on some jeans and a graphic tee. Then he kissed his own two fingers and placed them on the glass gingerly.
“Come on, Peter. Let’s get some breakfast.”
“Okay, I’m right behind you.”
Peter realized years ago that keeping to a schedule was very important to his survival. He needed routine, he needed structure, and he needed a plan if he was going to keep things running smoothly. He filled the carafe for the coffee maker, a little 5 cup Mr. Coffee that his uncle had loved. Then, Peter put a can of peaches in a pot over the propane stove, he added a scoop of instant oats and a few dashes of cinnamon.
“Peach oatmeal compote today, Ned” Peter scooped out his breakfast into a bowl.
“Sounds delish!” Ned said real excitement in his voice. “What are we doing today, Peter?”
“Same thing we do every day, Pinky” Peter smirked to himself. “Try to take over the world.”
“I’m pretty sure we wouldn’t even have to try to take over the world at this point.”
“I’m not so sure, Ned.” Peter stirred the oats while sipping his coffee. “What about Doomsday Preppers? Some people owned their own bunkers, like billionaires, and world leaders and . . . other people must have survived?” He was trying to be an optimist this time.
“Yeah, you’re right! Stark Tower was completely self-sufficient, and Zuckerberg and Elon had built those high-tech underground bunkers.” Ned chipped in.
“Exactly, just because no one has found us living in a brownstone in Queens after three years doesn’t mean anything” Peter felt a pang in his chest, “right?” He needed Ned to squash that feeling right away.
“Absolutely! They will come; they just have some work to do first.” Ned was giving Peter that patented Ned Smile™ that could light up the darkest of thoughts.
“Exactly.” Peter sighed, the pain in his chest was fading.
He ate his breakfast while sketching an idea for a homemade battery in his notebook, then refilled his coffee with some powdered creamer and took his thermos with him to begin inspecting the rain catchment systems for any wear and tear.
“
Tony Stark awoke to JARVIS queueing his ‘Favorites’ playlist at random over the speakers he built into the ceiling of his Penthouse Suite. This day, in particular, began with ‘Welcome to the Jungle’ by Guns and Roses. Pepper must have asked JARVIS to wake him up.
“I’m awake!” Tony’s eyes popped open painfully from a deep sleep. JARVIS notably lowered the volume. Sundays were usually for sleeping in, but this Sunday was different. He had work to do today.
“Nice choice, Jarvis.” Tony groaned and sat up on the edge of his floating platform bed. He had a glass of water and some aspirin sitting on a tray on his bedside table. Pepper was an angel.
Last night Tony had a little too much to drink with the team. He only let himself drink socially when everyone gathered for ‘Team Bonding Night’ on Saturdays. They would usually spend the night watching a movie, playing video games or something completely random (see Clint’s Dartboard competition or Sam’s MBTI personality testing night) because they were fucking bored!
“Goodmorning, Sir. Shall I notify Pepper that you’re up for the day?” JARVIS’s warm voice rang like a bell around him.
“You shall, what time is it?” Tony rubbed his eyes. He guessed by the degree of brightness coming in from the floor to ceiling windows that it was well past morning, if not the afternoon.
“It is currently 11:03, Sunday morning July 7th, 2017”
Last night's festivities began with Texas Hold ’em (Harley’s idea) and quickly devolved into accusations of card counting which ended in an emotional debate about which fast food chain they each missed the most. (Tony would watch the world burn for a Whopper©)
“Right, happy Armageddon day” He popped the aspirin and mustered the energy needed to pull on some black skinny jeans and a plain black V-neck T-shirt. Not like he could forget about the anniversary. It’s all he thought about lately.
“That is correct, Sir. Virus CFTR3 wiped out 99.9% of all human life three years ago today” Jarvis sounded somber even for an A.I. “Don’t forget, you have a meeting scheduled in the Avengers Debriefing Room at 3pm today to begin Project ADEM.”
“Ah, yes. CFTR3, the proverbial Clorox Wipe© of Mother Nature.” Tony muttered to himself. The countdown to the three-year mark had been haunting him almost to insanity in the last few weeks especially.
“What was that, Sir? I didn’t quite hear you.”
“Oh, nothing Jarvis. Just let everyone know, I'll be there with bells on!” He said, hoisting himself out of bed and into his slippers. He could do this. Just like Pepper said, ‘Baby-Steps’. Baby-Step one: Brush your teeth. Don’t think about anything else, yet.
“
Peter was done with the maintenance of the water catchment system. He had a few small leaks in the rain barrels that he slapped duct tape over and had replaced all his homemade sand filters. He was ready for a lunch break.
“uhg, I would kill someone for a slushie right now” Ned loved hyperbole.
“I don’t think my morals have fallen that far yet.”
“I know, Spider-Man is ever the hero.”
“I haven’t been anyone's hero in a long time, Ned.” Peter tried to remember what it had been like those first few weeks that he got to swing around New York City learning how to be Spider-Man. He had stopped a few muggings and bodega hold ups and got a handful of cats down from trees. Those people were all dead now.
“You're my hero Peter” Ned beamed up at Peter with real adoration in his eyes.
Peter looked away as his own eyes got a little misty. “Come on, Ned. Let’s eat something. I’m starvin!” Peter got to work on making their lunch for the day.
Peter was proud of his post-apocalypse achievements in the culinary arts. His rooftop garden was coming along very nicely this year. He had cucumbers, tomatoes, green beans, and peppers all ripening. At first, he was hesitant to eat any of them, he knew how important preserving those vegetables would be for the winter. Those winter months the first year he spent without fresh produce were the worst. He had quickly tracked down all the necessary equipment and learned the art of jarring. He opened one of his jars of homemade stewed tomatoes to add into his canned chili for lunch. Now for his favorite part, spices!
“Hey, make mine extra spicy” Ned was such a foodie and always gave Peter advice on how to spice up a dish.
“You don’t want to upset your stomach, bro” Peter knew Ned better than himself sometimes.
After lunch he would use test strips on the rainwater and check on the electrical systems inside and outside the house. He would also make sure that the solar panels were cleaned off and that he replaced or repaired any damaged wiring. It was clear blue skies today and unseasonably cool for July. Perfect weather for roof work.
“
Tony shuffled in his slippers over the black marble flooring all the way to the open concept kitchen/living room/dining room. Baby-Step two was eating something for breakfast (and drinking his weight in coffee). The Penthouse floor was the only place in the whole tower that Tony had some semblance of privacy. Except for his son (Harley) and wife (Pepper) no one could enter the penthouse unless they had previous permission.
Harley was playing a video game in the sunken living room area, and he could see Pepper lounging on some patio furniture out on the balcony. Tony decided to grab one of the mason jars filled with Pepper’s homemade overnight oats and a thermos of coffee and brave the ‘outdoors’ with Pepper.
“Nice backhand, kid” Tony could see that Harley had one of those wand controllers and he was playing a tennis game on the projector.
“Thanks! Hey, did you decide about today?” Harley had been hounding Tony about letting him be in the room when the preliminary scans were run.
“Um, maybe? You're like what, 13 now?” Tony couldn’t help himself.
“I’m 16 Tony.” Harley was not amused.
“Oh. Em. Gee. that cannot be! Because I distinctly remember that if you turned 15, I would be 55 and there is no way in hell I’m over 35 so you must be negative five years old!” Tony loved teasing Harley any chance he got.
“Come on, dad. I just wanna be in the room where it happens, the room where it happens, the room where it happens!” Harley began to break out in song and dance.
“Alright, just stop doing whatever the heck that is!” Tony gestured to all of Harley. “I just don’t want you to get your hopes up, kiddo.” Tony had already had lengthy discussions with Harley about the statistics.
“I can manage my own expectations, but what about you? Will you ever be satisfied?” Harley was singing again.
“Do you have Compulsive Singing Disorder or something?” Tony said with a raised brow.
“It’s Hamilton Tony!” Harley said exasperated.
“That musical you made me watch?” Tony sipped from his thermos.
“More like tried to make you watch! You fell asleep like 10 minutes into it!” He was frowning now with his hands on his hips.
“Alright, I get it. How about a Re-do this Friday night?” Tony obviously had disappointed the kid.
“Sure thing. Just promise me you’ll actually try to stay awake this time!” Harley was already back to swatting at invisible tennis balls.
“You got it, Harls.” Tony yelled over his shoulder on the way out to the balcony, “Lab time in 20 minutes!”
“
Peter put a sample of rainwater into the vial, he shook the contents, waited and froze. The water turned purple; it wasn't supposed to do that.
A few weeks after the virus killed everyone, Ned had gotten really, really sick. They hadn’t been testing the water yet, but Peter was sure it must have been something he ate or drank. He had made a lot of mistakes back then. One of them was not having a healthy fear of germs. In his defense he was 12 and hadn’t read as many survival-books yet.
Ned had hypothesized that Peter didn’t get sick because of his spider mutation. He was probably right. Peter hadn’t had so much as a cold since the bite. But he could still become weak if he was starving or get headaches if he pushed himself too hard. He must have had an arachnid immunity to diseases or something.
“Shit, Ned!” Peter was on the flat roof top of the brownstone where they lived. Ned usually stayed inside. It was safer that way.
Peter decided that specific vial was probably defective and dropped it in favor of trying a new one. That one turned purple too. He decided that the entire box could be defective. He tried a new box.
“Ned!” Peter yelled for Ned, up on the rooftop. He tried so hard not to panic. Peter always hated being sick as a kid. But being sick in a post-apocalyptic world could be a real nightmare. It could kill you.
“Shit, shit, shit, shit!” He paced back and forth, took deep breaths, and ran his hands through his hair; stopping to pull some of it up through his fingers.
“Hey, hey. Peter, I’m here. What’s going on?” Ned was there when Peter turned around to pace toward the fire escape.
“The water. . . it’s testing positive for e. coli!” Peter was in full panic mode.
“Ok, breathe. You know the drill. You’re having a panic attack.” Ned started to mimic big deep breaths for Peter, nodding his head encouragingly.
“What if you get sick . . . couldn’t handle it, Ned . . . you almost. . .” Peter’s breath was hitching on the inhale.
“Peter, you take every precaution now. You boil all the water for more than 3 minutes, even the water for washing up. You use filters and regularly clean the barrels and everything.” Ned was saying these things very calmly.
“Yeah, yeah. You’re right.” Peter was through the worst of it.
“I’m always right. I’m your guy in the chair. So, what do you need to do to feel safe.” Ned knew Peter better than he knew himself.
“A lot, Ned. I need to do a lot.” Peter was back in control. The trick to surviving this long was to always be prepared for the worst possibility. He had work to do.
The first thing he did was pry the lid off the barrel. How the bacteria had gotten into his supply was beyond him. He couldn’t see anything obvious, so he started to empty the barrel. He watched as 55 gallons of water ran off onto the roof. There at the bottom of the barrel was the problem, a bloated dead mouse. Peter felt nauseas, then he freaked out a little because he wasn’t sure if that was a symptom. No, he was fine. He moved the barrel onto its side and began decontamination procedures.
“
For a whole year after the outbreak no one left Stark Tower. One, because they had a strict quarantine set up that had every floor on lockdown. And two, because the smell of rotting corpses was likely to be very strong and they weren't going to break quarantine until full decomposition was complete. Stark Tower had the world's best air filters, and they were going to use them. Pepper helped Tony do exposure therapy for months before he could stand being outside. Not because it smelled (it didn’t) but it was so quiet. Manhattan had never been quiet. It unnerved him.
“Good morning” Pepper was reading something on her SIpad.
“Morning, Pep. Whatcha reading?” Tony leaned in to give Pepper a peck on the forehead before he sat down across from her.
“The Body Keeps the Score" She answered knowing Tony wasn't really interested. “What’s your plan for the day?” Pepper put the device down and picked up a mug.
“I have already recruited Harls to distract me until at least 2:55”
“Lab time?”
“Yup. I really like this cold oatmeal stuff. You made this right?” He said with a mouth full of whatever was in the jar.
“Yeah, they’re called Overnight Oats” she tilted her head and smirked.
“I like it. Are those canned peaches?” Tony said with a mouthful.
“Stop trying to change the subject Tony” Pepper said amused. Tony choked a little.
“I just, every time I think about it. I get, you know, panic-y" Tony could feel his heart rate spike and he absentmindedly rubbed the arc reactor over his shirt.
“At least you’re aware, Tony. That’s real improvement.” She smiled at him with just a little pity in her eyes.
“Oh yeah, I’m aware all right. I’m aware that what we find today determines the future of all humanity, that’s all.” Tony swallowed hard.
“No matter what happens today, we will be okay. Tony, you saved us, remember that.” Her voice was sweet and cool like a clear stream of water on a hot summer day.
“I know, I know. . . I guess I just feel like, I could be doing more, you know?”
“You can’t control what happens when you turn those satellites on. Try to think about what you can control.” Pepper had read a lot of self-help books in the last few years.
“Or distract myself from thinking all day and we’ll rehash things later?” he said playfully.
“Or that.” she said with a fond smile.
“
Peter continued to prepare for every ‘what if’ he could think of. He filled all his coolers with extra drinking water. He stashed some crackers and stomach medicine in a bag by the bed and placed a ‘puke bucket’ nearby. He put some extra blankets on the bed and put his favorite stuffed animal by the pillow. He remembered how sick he got when that spider had bitten him. He shivered.
“Remember the week when I was out of school ‘cause I got bit by that spider?”
“Yeah, your aunt said you had mono.” Ned was sitting on the mattress watching Peter make the room ‘flu proof’.
“I faked most of those symptoms. I was secretly freaking out because I was sick but also sticking to things and hearing stuff from a mile away and had this weird white goo coming out of my wrists.”
“That had to be scary”
“Yeah, but nowhere near as scary as when you got sick after . . .you know.”
“Uhgg. The vomarrhea. It was awful.” Ned shuddered and made a face like he was remembering every detail.
“Ew Ned.” Peter remembered. Poor Ned had been so sick that his body was expelling from both ends simultaneously.
“Uncontrollable Vommerhea.” Ned said in a weird Newscaster type voice and began laughing hysterically. “Projectile Vommerhea!” Ned was cracking himself up.
“Shut up, Ned! Gross!” Petter was laughing now too. “I thought we agreed on pewp-king” Peter chuckled remembering that even then, they could joke in such circumstances.
“Vomarrhea sounds cooler” Ned mused.
Peter sat on the bed and wrapped his arms around his midsection tight. He remembered that God awful night when Ned had gotten so sick. At one point he had helped his friend into the bathtub to freshen up. While he was gently massaging shampoo into his hair; Ned looked up at him with red eyes and said, “You’ll stay with me, right Peter?” Peter had no intention of leaving. Spider-man wasn’t needed anymore but Ned needed him. He held his friend's hand tightly as he promised, “I’m not going anywhere, buddy.”
Peter shook the memory away as fast as he could. “If you start to feel sick you let me know right away, okay?” Peter was being dead serious now.
“Of course. I'll be fine. I am feeling a little tired though. Is it ok if I just read in bed for a bit?”
“You sure you’re just tired? Let’s check your temperature, just to be sure.” Peter’s anxiety often got the better of him.
“Oh my God! Peter, I’m fine! Go do your chores and stop helicopter parenting me!” He started laughing at Peters incredulous look and flopped back on the mattress.
“Fine, fine. I just care, ok?” Peter was fighting a smile as well. “I’ll be back down before dark.” Peter made his way back to the roof to finish dusting those damn solar panels.
“
Lab time flew by for Tony. He kept getting distracted by ‘what if’s’ and had to pull himself back to the project he and Harley had been working on. They were making a smaller version of a Quinjet with retro-reflective paneling and a mounted camera so that Harley could fly it around New York City and explore the outdoors without ever leaving the tower. Also, it was just cool.
“Alight kid, I think it’s about time.” Tony had been very distracted for the last hour practically counting down the minutes in his head.
“Dang, already?” Harley was rearranging his tools by size and shape, just the way he liked it.
“Yep, time to make the donuts!” Tony cleared any sensitive materials off his desk by dragging his arm across the surface and dumping everything in an open drawer.
“I don’t understand that reference.” Harley said flatly.
“You and Cap should form a club.” Tony stood and clapped his hands for finality. “Let’s go see what my new baby ADEM can do.” Tony put his arm around Harley’s shoulders and walked him out of the lab, down the hall and toward the elevator. His heart wouldn’t stop fluttering in his chest. He took a lot of slow exhales. When they reached the room, the door was cracked open, and he paused to brush off his jeans and run his hands through his hair.
“I just don’t understand . . .” That was Clint’s voice for sure.
“You should get that printed on a T-shirt" That was Natasha stage whispering.
“Don’t look at me” Steve said with his elbows resting on the table and his forehead in his hands, “I still have trouble with the microwave.” Ever since the world ended no one really tried to make Steve catch up with modern technology anymore. He was better suited to the arts anyways.
“How do you mess up with a microwave?!” Clint shot back teasingly.
“I don’t know. I’m bad at guessing how long things take to cook, and there's too many buttons!”
“Ok, kids. Stop harassing the old man.” Tony interrupted while finding a seat for him and Harley closer to Pepper. It looked like everyone else had gotten there early. Pepper was talking to Bruce over by the windows. They were discussing the book that Pepper had been reading that morning. Steve, Clint and Natasha were nursing large mugs of coffee at the large oval table in the center of the room.
“Where’s Bucky?” Tony asked Steve
“He said he’d rather have me fill him in later” Steve was trying to choose his words carefully.
“Ok, Let’s get on with it.” Tony did his signature move of clapping his hands together loudly as he stood up. “As you all know, I’ve been working on a new project for the last three years.” Tony paused for a moment “Well actually . . . longer than that. I started this project after the first worm hole opened over our heads and threatened all life on Earth.”
Tony made some movements with his hands and a hologram popped up in front of him showing footage of the attack on New York City.
“The concept was to create some kind of augmented reality security and defense system. An A.I. with security, defense and tactical intelligence properties, being capable of accessing Stark Industries' global satellite network and hack into nearly any computerized device.” Clint raised his hand.
Tony decided to ignore the hand.
“After Lagos, the UN decided to commission Stark Industires with a multi-billion-dollar AR tactical intelligence system.” Clint was waving his hand now, “Basically JARVIS with the ability to identify and use lethal force to stop any threat to the Earth.” Tony sighed. “Well, obviously not any threat.” Clint was now laying his head on the table with his hand straight in the air.
“Obviously I didn’t get very far with it before the world imploded but we had most of the hardware finished I just needed to work on the software and run a lot of simulations.” He was going off script. Clint was starting to make a loud whining noise like a tea kettle ready to burst.
“You have a question, Clint?” Tony hated being interrupted.
“Yeah. Can you skip to the good part? I have ADHD and this is torture” Clint whined. Harley snorted loudly and then sheepishly tried to cover his laugh. Natasha smacked Clint on the back of the head.
Tony took a deep breath with his face to the ceiling. “No one is forcing you to be here, Katniss.”
“Come on, Tony.” Natasha was also not a patient person. “It’s been three years, and no one here understands the techno jargon.” She gestured to the whole room. “I think we’ve waiting long enough.”
“Alright, alright.” Tony was a little disappointed that he didn’t get to continue his very impressive presentation. “JARVIS, pull up ADEM.” A complex looking holographic control panel popped up in front of Tony to manipulate by hand.
“What’s this one stand for?” Pepper asked.
“After Doomsday, Everyone Matters” Tony answered while distracted with manipulating sliders into their optimal positions. “Okay, folks.” Tony stopped the chatter amongst the group.
“Adem, initiate scan: Global Anomaly Alpha”
“Initiating scan” the room had gone deadly quiet. “1,247 global anomalies detected.” Tony released a deep breath and three years of tension. The others exchanged looks and some leaned in as things were getting interesting.
“Anomaly type?” Tony followed up. He was ready to find out where the rest of the .1% were.
“1,133 detectable human heat signatures, 113 electronic signals and one live visual.” You could hear Harley’s jeans rubbing as he bounced his leg excitedly.
“A visual?!” Harley said out loud. He was practically vibrating with nervous energy.
“Could be an error, Harls” Tony whispered to Harley. He really didn't want to get the kids' hopes up.
“Pull up the live feed, Adem” Tony’s throat got suddenly dry.
There on the screen floating above the oval table was a very grainy long distance shot of a row of houses, brownstones, it looked like. On the roof of one of the houses was an array of solar panels and a figure was holding a long pole with something on the end that he was maybe wiping them off with? Harley stood up to get a closer look.
“Is this real?” Steve blurted out
“Affirmative. The live video feed of visual anomaly one is currently focused on 20 Ingram Street, Forest Hills, New York.” Adam brought up the location on a map. Tony’s jaw dropped.
“That’s practically right down the street!” Harley exclaimed
“What’s he doing?” Clint wondered aloud.
“You sure it’s a he.” Natasha scooted up closer to the image, squinting.
“Can we get a better picture than this, Adem? Tony couldn’t make out much from the blurry pixels on the screen.
“Negative” ADEM answered, “Would you like to deploy a surveillance drone?”
“Yes, deploy two drones for camouflage surveillance” Tony said.
“Wait, we’re going to go get them right?!” Harley grabbed Tony’s elbow to get his attention.
“Harley” Tony warned. “We talked about this. We agreed to a 48-hour surveillance period and a group vote.” Tony knew this would happen. Harley was ruled by his empathy and emotions. Harley looked crestfallen but stubborn determination still shone in his eyes.
“You got to be. . .this person has been out there alone for three years!” Harley was already aware of the protocol put in place by the team.
“Exactly, we don’t know what mental state they’re in, they could be dangerous. Harley, we can talk about this later.” Harley visibly pouted, crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back in his chair.
“I’m with the kid, why can’t we grab them and put them in quarantine now? Clint asked.
“We literally went over this in the last meeting, Clint. You were there. You voted.” Tony said.
“I still don’t understand.” Clint muttered.
“There’s the back of the T-shirt.” Natasha deadpanned.
“ETA on the surveillance drones, Adem?” Tony refocused his attention back to the task at hand.
“4 minutes 28 seconds”
“Adem, summarize all other findings.” The computer went on to describe that there were signs of life in the U.S. but that they were probably in some kind of underground bunkers. The chatter in the room was growing louder as the others theorized about which world leaders had most likely survived. There were a few broadcasts that had survived, one of which was an eerie looped propaganda video coming out of North Korea. Something else of note was a signal originating from a small remote island in the archipelago of Hawaii claiming an entire community of native survivors.
Tony ordered Adem to send out drones to various locations to scout out whether people were staying in their little hidey holes or if they ever ventured into the open. His network of satellites was now monitoring the globe 24/7 so they should have more information as time went on.
“Target acquired in Queens” Adem interrupted the teams' musings, “Intercept point determined.” Up on the hologram a video appeared with a boy on a roof, sitting by a raised bed garden, drinking from a thermos.
He looked young, had fluffy dark brown hair and dark eyes. The drone looked to be cloaked in front of a grouping of trees across the street from the boy, but the zoom quality was excellent. They could even tell from the video that he had a slightly wild left eyebrow, dark circles around his tired eyes and was wearing a worn-out graphic tee and jeans.
“He looks young” was the first thing said.
“Yeah, really young . . . small. Like tiny?” Clint sounded shell shocked. His voice went a little tight at the end then he coughed and took a sip of his coffee.
“Could be a little older than he looks. Three years of malnutrition might be contributing here.” Bruce chimed in.
“How old do we think this kid is, 13 maybe 14? Tony said incredulously. The boy drank thirstily from his water bottle and wiped sweat away from his forehead with the back of his hand. He tilted his head up toward the sky and closed his eyes.
“Are we saying he was like 10 when the entire world population dropped like flies all around him?!” Harley couldn’t imagine it. What if he hadn’t come over to visit Tony when he did that weekend and instead was trapped out there all alone, all this time? His mom and sister had died with everyone else but at least he didn’t have to sit by and watch!
“Jesus Christ, poor kid.” Clint tried to imagine a world where he and his family hadn’t been saved by Tony.
“He looks tired.” Natasha observed.
“How’s his vitals look, Adem?” Tony asked.
“All vitals are within normal ranges” Adem confirmed.
“Well, the kid seems to be doing okay for himself.” Tony decided to change the atmosphere of the room, “Look, he’s got rain barrels up there, solar panels and a veggie garden.” Tony was impressed.
“You think he had help?” Natasha narrowed her eyes in thought.
“Maybe? Let’s go ahead and set up monitoring for now and see what information we can gather over the next couple days” Tony was ready to wrap this meeting up.
“We’ll reconvene here on Tuesday, same time.” Tony stood up and cleared the display and all images. “Adem, begin the Baby Monitor protocol” Tony went to help Pepper out of her chair.
“That’s surprisingly appropriate” she said.