Work Text:
Christine could hear Stephen’s voice, crisp and animated, long before she approached his hospital room. That could mean only one thing: Mr. Stark was visiting.
In the days after Stephen was recovered from the wreck and before he woke from surgery, Christine had braced herself for denial, or fury, or depression. Operating was everything to Stephen. It had certainly meant more to him than their relationship. She’d braced herself for a viciously rocky road to whatever recovery he could make, and for the first few hours, it had seemed like depression had won the lottery. Stephen had been so silent. It was an unsettling reaction from a man who had opinions on everything, especially everything medical.
And then Tony Stark had arrived and it was like the entire world went screwy.
Not only had Stephen snapped out of his nascent depression, he didn’t even seem to care about his hands. He didn’t denigrate the work of his doctors, he didn’t ask for a second opinion. He didn’t even ask to see his own films! Instead he spent every waking moment—literally—deep in discussion with man he’d once described as the worst possible expression of the military-industrial complex. And that had been after Stark’s establishment as Iron Man. Just because now he’s keeping the bombs for his personal use, Stephen had said once, doesn’t make him a hero.
Honestly, if Stephen hadn’t been in a hospital, closely monitored, Christine would have suspected Stark of… of… something. She couldn’t think of any drug or bribe or whatever that would turn Stephen’s opinion around so dramatically, but it still made more sense than reality! Christine couldn’t even call it a nervous breakdown—Stephen somehow seemed better adjusted than before his crash.
Shaking her head, Christine continued on her way to Stephen’s room. She’d promised herself she’d be there for him, even if the role she’d expected to take had somehow been co-opted by Tony Stark.
“…not sure,” Stephen was saying as she approached. “The first time I was in hospital for a month, but I didn’t have anyone to help me care for myself. Christine tried, but I was… not receptive.”
The first time? Christine didn’t think he’d ever been hospitalized before.
Stephen looked up and saw her in the doorway and any chance at more information was lost. “Christine!” Stephen said warmly as Mr. Stark dismissed a hologram. Christine only glimpsed enough to guess it was some sort of timeline before it was gone. “Tony and I were just speculating when I might be released. I don’t suppose you have any inside information?”
“Ah, no, I’m afraid not,” Christine said, somehow thrown off balance again. “It would probably depend on how much support you have. Your apartment—“
“Nah, he’ll be staying with me,” Mr. Stark jumped in. “I can get you whatever support you need,” he told Stephen. “Nurses, accessibility features, you name it.”
Christine’s gaze flew to Stephen, expecting him to flinch at ‘accessibility,’ but he just nodded. “Thank you, that will help. The sooner I can get out of here, the better.”
“Stephen, are you sure you’re comfortable with that?” Christine jumped in, glancing at Mr. Stark.
“I won’t be freeloading,” Stephen assured her, as if that was the problem. “Tony and I have a big project to get started on.”
“Huge, world changing project,” Mr. Stark added brightly. Then he got a considering look on his face and turned to Stephen. “We’re going to need support staff. Do you think—?”
Stephen hummed thoughtfully. “It wouldn’t have worked before, but this time, maybe.”
“We’ll add it to the list,” Tony said.
Christine could only glance between them. It felt like she was missing half the conversation, but, somehow, she suspected it was a lot more than half.