8062/Medical Exodus

Medical Exodus
Date of Scene:	26 June 2019
Location:	Unknown
Synopsis:	Steve and Hank discuss things that keep them up at night.
Cast of Characters:	Ant-Man (Pym), Captain America
Tinyplot:	Sentinels

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Ant-Man (Pym) has posed:
    In theory, Dr. Pym is supposed to be taking it easy in medical. His health has taken a few steps forward, only to take some back, as his body reacted poorly to the stasis he had been held in, and the signficant body mass loss from the starvation part of it.

    Avengers rarely are reasonable when it comes to recovery, and Hank Pym is one of the more stubborn ones: in that he's also clever enough to dodge a lot of the safeguards put in place for his own good. From that, has led to his appearance not just out of medical, but entirely out of the basement, and in the dining area. His hair is wet, his clothes warm and fresh: he'd just been upstairs taking a shower, in an effort to not feel quite as gross. He moves to sit down carefully at a table, clearly taking a short rest; all of the movement and standing exhausted his body, he'll take a break before doing more.

Captain America has posed:
And it's the visible caution that Hank is displaying that keeps the Captain from immediately attempting to urge him back to his padded hospital bed -- that, and Steve would be a horrible hypocrite if he harped at all about the benefits of resting. These two are in the experienced echelon of 'impossible to keep bedridden'. With coffee mug in his hand, the soldier greets the scientist quietly as he walks over.

"Hey Hank. I was going to go raid the larder for a midnight snack. What do you want?" The offer is without strings as Steve then finishes the last mouthful of his brew.

Ant-Man (Pym) has posed:
Hank had his eyes shut. He was a ghost of himself for that moment, without the sharp-eyed quality and ready awareness. The resting pose made the hollowness of what he went through show. That is, until Hank opens his eyes and orients quickly, drawing his hands together on the table as if he hadn't been about to nap.

"Midnight? Hours turn inside out when you're trapped in medical. Felt more like five in the morning," Hank sighs, voice irritable. He catches himself. His tone improves: with his clear effort to be better.

"How about cold cut sandwiches? No fire hazards," suggests the scientist, spreading his hands open, a smile shadowing onto his face. The shower included a shave, though not a close one.

Captain America has posed:
"Think I saw some turkey in the fridge. I'll throw a few pieces and some cheese on some bread. We'll have a picnic," the Captain replies quietly with a mild smile on his own features. "Gimme five."

He steps away, pace brisk, and within five minutes, does indeed return with not only two turkey-and-cheese sandwiches, but a glass of water for Hank alongside a collection of condiments: mustard (both yellow and stone-ground), mayonnaise, and barbeque sauce. He sets it all down carefully, having to pluck the condiments from where he had them tucked against his ribs in order to balance the two plates and hold the glass of water.

"Figure this'll do," he comments as he sits down, claiming one of the sandwiches for his own. Stone-ground mustard it will be for him.

Ant-Man (Pym) has posed:
"I'm not a total invalid," Hank scoffs, reaching out to help relieve Steve of the juggling act of condiments. He does upset the mayonnaise, and grabs for it, but his reflexes just aren't there. He doggedly pulls himself out of his chair to reach to where the plastic container rolled to grab it, though. And then moves back into his chair, to help open the mayo, at the very least.

Hank's proud, and despite moving slowly, will absolutely be able to work to contribute to the picnic. "So tell me: what's kept you up late, and making bad snack decisions with me?" Hank inquires, with a rueful smile, pushing one sleeve up to mid-elbow, then the other.

Captain America has posed:
Steve glances up from closing his sandwich. The mustard has been spread with a fingertip and he wipes his hand off on a napkin also procured, its brother on the table in case Hank wants or needs it at some point.

"I'd joke that it's the coffee, but we both know the caffeine doesn't make a dent in things unless I've got a pot to myself." And a hyped-up Steve is like a border collie on sugar -- an entertaining if patience-testing idea. The soldier lets out a quiet sigh and his smile takes on a solemn cast. "Brain won't shut down. I have nights from time to time where..." He shakes his head a little. "Like a dog worrying at a bone. I know sleep'll help, but the world never stops. I know it'll be turning even after I'm gone, but this sandwich won't, so -- I'm eating it." He tries to salvage the conversation from his own woes with the little quip and then grabs up the sandwich to take a big bite from it.

Ant-Man (Pym) has posed:
Hank listens with a thoughtful cast, though some of it may end up feeling like Steve is talking to his doctor, with the sort of quiet "hmmm" that Hank emits, as if Steve's description were semi-interesting. Hank goes about making his own sandwich, though he doesn't use his hands. He's too proper for that; Hank pushes against the table to get up with only a quiet grunt, and crosses to get a knife. He returns with it, wearing the same expression that he left with.

"I suspect," Hank answers, "That you'd rather I listen, instead of offering some solutions." Hank's straightforward, thoughtful manner has no judgement in it, for once. "Although there are a few things I could prescribe," he says with a half-smile. It was a joke but also wasn't. "What's the current bone?"

Hank sets about adjusting his cheese (he needed a bit more cheese), and adding his condiments in a perfect manner of everything nicely laid out, taking his time.

Captain America has posed:
Steve's soft laugh at the idea of Hank prescribing //anything//, much less actual medication, is muffled by his mouthful of food. He can be seen to shift his mouth around as if he was certain he had bread stuck to his teeth before he glances off to one side.

"It's an old bone, but a good one," he says with a self-effacing little smile to himself. "Recently assisted SHIELD agents with taking down a ghost. You've probably heard of him, if only through the grapevine. Zola." Even the volume of the name decreases when Steve relates it to the scientist. "He's responsible for some of the worst atrocities I've ever seen."

A huff of a sigh and Steve glares down at his sandwich rather than across the table, sparing Hank from the flinty blue of his eyes. "Somehow, he managed to get himself -- his brain, put into technology. We finally located him and brought him down, but...god, Hank."

Steve now grimaces at the scientist. "If he managed to get himself onto a hard drive, how in the hell are we supposed to be sure that he and that sector of HYDRA are gone? The agents said he was purged from his system..." The unspoken disbelief is clear as day.

Ant-Man (Pym) has posed:
"I heard a little bit about this, actually. A 'Skye' was looking for something or other in our files, and mentioned him to me; she thought I was Stark at first," Hank says with a soft laugh, as if that were truly pretty ridiculous, to confuse them at all for any length of time, even online.

"She had some data to give over related to it, but was very concerned about security. I'm glad to hear you 'brought him down'," Hank replies. "How can you know? Well. Aside from sending in something equally clever in the virtual space, that's going to be difficult to be sure on."

Hank finished his sandwich assembly, and cuts it evenly diagonally. He begins to eat his sandwich, relaxed. "That was not me volunteering," Hank adds smoothly, teasing. "What makes everyone think he was defeated?"

Captain America has posed:
Ah -- the name drop lets Steve know he can be more candid than he was originally intending to be. He doesn't yet take another bite of his sandwich as he watches Hank across the table, his expression still sober.

He does lift a hand where it rested palm-down on the table in something akin to a shrug. "The tech team was pretty certain of it. It's not my forte, their coding and programming, so I gotta trust that they did burn him from his own systems. It's an old bone though, Zola...HYDRA... I gotta have faith in 'em, my fellow agents. Maybe I can sleep better knowing we knocked the steps out from under the group at the very least. It'll take 'em time to regroup if they can manage it." His next bite of sandwich is still marked and he seems vaguely irritated yet, though mostly at himself and the fretting.

Ant-Man (Pym) has posed:
There's some amusement to Hank's eyes, as he listens to the technology not being Steve's forte. "You're not expected to be a hacker, Steve, I don't think anyone is disappointed," Hank assures the captain, with his usual smooth confidence about facts he knows to be true.

"Does it help anything if you do stay up thinking it over?" he asks. "Personally I'd rather you rest and be prepared to potentially bash in a crazy Sentinel that's harvesting human organs, and leave Zola in a box on the shelf for a little while." He pauses, though.

"I'm not trying to make light of HYDRA, though, mind. If you want me to look over some systems, I can do that. Second, world-class opinions, to help Captain America sleep. My best prescription." Hank lifts his brows, proving it is him being funny, amiable even, while he chews a bite of sandwich.

Captain America has posed:
Steve chews more slowly through his tablemate's pause for thought. The mention of the Sentinel makes the turkey sandwich taste a little more sour, but it's nothing the soldier's unfamiliar with. He'll keep on eating on because the serum does need the calories. He smiles again upon realizing that Hank is somehow showcasing a sense of humor.

"Helluva prescription," he quips quietly and no less gratefully for the scientist's ear. "SHIELD's got it covered for now, I think. Don't want to step on toes. Priority is the Sentinel bunk."

Soemthing flickers through his face. It's possible to see the lightning-fast extrapolations and the Captain ends up disturbed by the tightness about the corners of his eyes. He rolls his lips and squints at his fellow Avenger. "...did you just insinuate that Sebastion is harvesting human organs?"

Ant-Man (Pym) has posed:
"I didn't tell you that Director Fury visited me?" Hank asks, thoughtfully. "Perhaps I'm part of SHIELD's coverage; no toe stepping to worry about." He finished his triangle of sandwich, and seems to need to pause to let his own words settle in. He gets up, again, with similar dislike of standing, but goes to fill his water glass from the refridgerator door. He pauses talking while the noise of the spraying water might drown out what he has to say. The gems Hank decides to drop are always worth hearing, obviously.

"I'd say I did something stronger than insinuate, but yes. He needed repair, and his system does support cyborg solutions. He sent along an overview of his failed systems and requirements, with Ms. Drew; there are some things he still wants, and he's attempted to barter for them by claiming he has some piece of Vision that we need." Hank returns with his water. "It isn't a question of maybe he used human parts: lacking other parts, he did that. The diagnostics prove it. Worse, it wasn't /necessary/ to do that. That was a choice, in my opinion."

Captain America has posed:
"Oh god..."

The groan disappears behind his hand before Steve rubs at one temple, his eyes scrunched tightly shut. "He's actually gone haywire. I read Vision's report -- Tony let me look through it -- but god, I'd actually hoped..."

He leans back heavily into the chair, seeming to forget about the rest of his sandwich left on the plate. With arms crossed, he's practically simmering with bitter disappointment. "Thought he was gonna get fixed...figure it out. Gonna have to put him down like a rabid dog. He's gone against any publically-proposed protocols of inaction against humans."

Ant-Man (Pym) has posed:
"I looked at some of the recordings, from the interviews," Hank comments, as he settles to eat the other half of his sandwich. "The progression of wanting to be human has taken a somewhat predictable turn, unfortunately, when you take his cyborg system into account." He uses a napkin, to get some condiment off his left hand.

"To clarify, in case you were going to glare at me, I'm not just sitting around while he's loose. I'm developing something that should force him into an entirely passive state, and we can dismantle him safely. I'm running some tests on it now in my mobile lab. Going after him before we have something reliable will end in another issue like Vision."

Captain America has posed:
"I didn't think you were sitting around doing nothing. If anything, I've redirected medical staff elsewhere once or twice to keep them from interrupting you. I know you'll come up with something. You always do," the Captain says quietly, still shaken up by the confirmation of the cyborg gone terribly awry.

He falls quiet. The sandwich is considered with a tired disapproval before he leans forward and picks it up again to at least finish it off. It disappears in several tidy if big bites in under a minute and Steve takes up his glass of water to drain it in one go.

His voice might sound loud in the room. "'ppreciate what you're doing, Hank. It's good to have you back."

Ant-Man (Pym) has posed:
There's a little blink when Steve says he actually diverted medical people to leave him alone. It's fairly rare that Hank's surprised, though it almost always has to do with something social. In this case, not seeing Steve's support for what it was.

While Hank's pride is one of his sticking points, he can be gracious, even if it's a little bit like pulling teeth out of his own head. "I didn't know you'd done that," Hank says. "I appreciate... the support, Steve. I don't like being interrupted; it does help to focus."

Hank seems to mull over either Steve's words, or his own, and adjusts to a more genuine tone. "Doesn't help if we kill ourselves, though. I'll make a deal with you - we'll both get some rest, and team up on the latest bone that needs to be chewed /tomorrow/. I'll have some test results, and you can hit the Sentinel with them. I doubt he's killing anyone for his parts, if that helps you. I didn't corrupt that software, when we booted him up. Just most of the rest of it."

Captain America has posed:
"Better a plan than nothing -- and I know you wouldn't write in a virus like that," Steve reassures the scientist with a solemn certainty. "Like you said, it's...a suboptimal progression of the cyborg's AI. You've got a deal regardless."

The Captain pushes back in his chair in order to stand. He's slow about collecting up the plates and silverware along with the condiments, gathering them in front of him as he talks. "What're you thinking as far as application? It isn't going to be like shooting a tranq dart, I assume?"

Ant-Man (Pym) has posed:
"More like having altered programming housed in the parts we grant him to repair himself with," Hank answers. "Interfacing with the replacement sections should trigger it off. Give him new protocol to follow. I'm testing it, though."

Hank gives over his plate and silverware, without argument, though there is a smile there. He's aware Steve is helping, and won't be weird about it, for the moment. "On the upside, either way this goes down, I think he's lied to us: he doesn't have anything on Vision. We don't /need/ him for helping Vision. Still, fighting him is dangerous. So it's more your diplomacy, and that he listened to you before, that we'll need, than your aim with a dart."

Captain America has posed:
"So I'm delivering the Trojan horse." Steve slowly sighs as he finally gets everything balanced between his hands and his arms. At least the plates are clear so he can stack some of the condiment bottles on them.

"'m honored you think I'm that tactful. Been trying to convince other people of that for years." He smiles at an inside joke. "I'll deliver it. We'll hash out the fine details of the mission after some rest. A sandwich never sits wrong alongside a good night's sleep." He turns to leave and pauses, giving Hank a look of minor concern.

Then, knowing better, he lets the man have a small smile instead. "Sleep tight when you do, Hank." The missive carries even as he meanders back into the kitchen to do some late-night dishes.

Ant-Man (Pym) has posed:
"You can be honest, and say it'll help. I didn't say it'd kill him. I'd deliver /that/ sort of horse myself. You'd stay up all night with guilt: can't have that." So would Hank, not that he'd admit it.

Hank caught the look a little bit late, he'd seen Steve turn away to work on the condiment bottles, putting things away, and allowed himself to relax in his chair, an exhausted slump that does betray his physical state. Hank hasn't physically recovered from his ordeal; his body is not as willing as the spirit is.

As Steve doesn't actually point out anything, though, he's saved himself from any wrath Hank may have had ready on sharp tongue. Instead, Hank straightens up, and gets to his feet. "Supposedly, I can be abrasive," Hank scoffs, with a smirk. He knows very well what people say about him. "You're tactful, you work well enough with me." He shrugs some, and heads towards the door.