[One of the good things about being in the hospital, Phil supposes, is that people tend to fuss over you. Especially if they feel guilty about your reason for being there.
His apartment was leveled when one of those space-worms powered down and crushed his building, which meant that his collection of vintage comics was ruined. But somehow, he's managed to acquire a pretty impressive selection again, as each of his visitors brings a little something with them whenever they stop by. Phil still feels petty enough about the whole thing — Nick dipped his priceless trading cards in his own blood, that bastard — that he hasn't told them to stop.
Today, he's propped up in bed, idly flipping through one of the comics Clint brought by yesterday, waiting until his physical therapy session. It's not for a few hours yet, he has time to kill.]
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His apartment was leveled when one of those space-worms powered down and crushed his building, which meant that his collection of vintage comics was ruined. But somehow, he's managed to acquire a pretty impressive selection again, as each of his visitors brings a little something with them whenever they stop by. Phil still feels petty enough about the whole thing — Nick dipped his priceless trading cards in his own blood, that bastard — that he hasn't told them to stop.
Today, he's propped up in bed, idly flipping through one of the comics Clint brought by yesterday, waiting until his physical therapy session. It's not for a few hours yet, he has time to kill.]