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ROUND TWENTY-SEVEN

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[FILL] Untitled WIP - Snippet 1 of ?. GEN or Hope/Scott, (Meta)physical consequences for Scott

[anonymous]

Plot-bunny anon back, I've got two scenes that I'll be putting up tonight. No clue where they'd be in the story yet, or what the rest of the story is, but hope you enjoy the process! Warning: not really edited much, and un-beta'd.

First snippet/scene:
*****

“Daddy!”

Scott bolted upright in bed, his daughter’s voice still ringing in his head. Pressing the heels of his hands against his closed eyes he sighed to himself, “Not again.” The nightmares had been getting progressively worse, and between that and the headaches and everything else, he’d been staying at Dr. Pym’s place while they got this sorted out.

Giving up on any further sleep for the night, he staggered bleary eyed, downstairs.

“Rough night, again?” asked Janet.

“Yeah, more nightmares,” he replied, his brain on auto-pilot, while he shuffled into the living room. His eyes were focused on the ground in front of him, trying to not run into something.

He stopped cold, mid-step, as his brain caught up to speed and registered no one else was in the room with him. “Janet?” he asked, softly, looking around, however only silence met his inquiry.

“I’m going crazy-,” he muttered to himself, shaking his head and pinching the bridge of his nose. Pulling aside the curtains, he peered out the front window-Hope’s car wasn’t there, nor was she parked in the garage. Shivering, and not from the cold, he headed to the kitchen to make some tea. Maybe that would help settle his nerves, he thought.

*****

“It’s no problem, sorry to startle-,” Scott said, a half beat before Hank’s housekeeper and day-cook stepped into the kitchen stopped short in surprise.

“Oh!” she exclaimed, “I didn’t know anyone was up yet.”

“-you.” Scott finished, his last word concurrent with hers. She stood there, blinking at him, a bewildered look on her face. He began to apologize, “I’m sorry, I don’t-” but didn’t get any further before his vision whited out and he felt his knees giving out from under him. With his last effort of will he grasped for the counter, to keep himself up, but failed. The distant, sound of someone-female, the housekeeper?-shrieking in the background and objects hitting the floor.

“Hush, rest,” came that original female voice (Janet? "Shhh...") that had greeted him when he first came downstairs, and then he was out completely.