"We should get your hand cleaned up so you can heal." Stark said, snapping me from my thoughts.
"Then we are going to get you something to eat. Because from the puke stench you're carrying, there's no doubt you're wearing everything you ate from the past 7 years."
Ace added, teasing. I frowned, wondering why I didn't do this sooner.
"Ace... I forgive you, you know." I told him, leaning into his chest against his shoulder.
"We'll see about that after I pull out every peice of wood from your hand."
He said and kissed my forehead before they both started picking and plucking.
Stark slipped a back-pack from his shoulders and started pulling out mentholated spirit and bandages. All things medical, and it had me confused as to how they knew I was even hurt in the first place. So I asked.
