Breathe Deep
Phil wakes to a soft conversation, two female voices washing over him. Decades of training keep him still, his breath slow and steady as he tries to assess.
Mild headache. Sore arm, sore abdomen (bandages? it tugs a little when he breathes). A little hard to focus, a little dizzy. Nothing particularly alarming, but he probably got hurt somehow.
The voices are calm enough, and one of them is Nat’s; probably no immediate danger. The other’s… familiar.
Pepper Potts. Not dead, then. Stark will be relieved.
Except… they were fighting Loki (when are they not fighting Loki?). And Loki’s a shapeshifter and master illusionist who faced Pepper in combat the day she died (or had seemed to die).
Then again, Nat’s not one to be deceived by impersonations, and she’s spent enough time with Pepper to know if something’s off. And she’s not fool enough to let slip her suspicions, so that easy laughter and light-hearted tone might be just for show. Assuming it’s even Nat—Loki can mimic multiple targets at once, so even that much can’t be taken for granted.
Well. Nothing that he can figure out with his eyes closed.
“Don’t sit up,” Nat cautions as soon as Phil stirs. Given the twinge in his gut, he takes that as good advice, and relaxes back into the bed, but turns his head to look at his agent.
His blurry vision resolves into Nat’s deadpan expression… and the slim black collar around her throat.
“Didn’t think you were wearing those in public,” he observes without judgment.
“When in Rome,” she offers casually, her eyes flicking to Pepper’s throat; Pepper’s collar is a soft orange. “How are you feeling?”
“Disoriented,” he admits. “Care to fill me in?”
“You nearly died,” Nat says, with no hint of any reaction to the concept. “Lost a lot of blood. Doc says you might be weak for a while, and we’re, um, we’re waiting to see if there’s any sign of”—her eyebrow twitches—“brain damage.”
It’s the lack of emotion that finally lets him believe it’s really her. Phil has spent decades learning to follow his gut, and Loki, he thinks, would try to inject emotion a little too soon.
“Oh,” Nat adds, casually, “and Loki’s the only reason you’re alive.”
Phil glances around the room. “Are we in his evil lair, then?” he quips. “I thought there’d be more green.”