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( vin )

spam - open.

[Eventually, Stark can get Vin to go away. It takes some doing, but she can't sit there all day and Stark won't let her. Besides, he doesn't have any intention of cooling his heels in the infirmary for long.]

[He's feeling a little better from swooning just outside his door which means he's good enough to not be there by his logic. This logic, of course, is inherently flawed, but logic's never been Stark's strong suit even on a good day. So, he pushes himself out of bed and makes his way to the inmate showers though there are plenty of times he's stopped, leaning on a wall in the hallway. When he does get to the showers, he doesn't bother to strip or even close the curtain, just turns it on and sits. After being covered in dirt, blood, what he hopes was mud, and everything in between, Stark's relieved to just feel the water for a while. He alternates between just sitting with his eyes closed and spacing out looking at his new bug-machine arm trying to determine just what the hell this week has been for him.]

[Maybe it's stubbornness. Maybe it's stupidity. It's possibly both. But Stark doesn't head straight back to his cabin. Instead, he makes his way up to the deck. Lying down on a bench, he opts to dry out here than sit and stew in his cabin. Not that he isn't still stewing, but it's a more public stewing if only because he can't quite figure out if he's exhausted or restless yet.]

[And, of course, at no point has he bothered to cover up Lucifer's armor, but he does keep his new left arm as tucked away as possible.]