7 Recovery Lc

Seeing a young man covered in blood running into the infirmary, the doctors who were currently inactive rushed to Edward and put him on a gurney. After inspection, they saw that most of his injuries were from a sheer impact. They stripped him of his bloodied clothes and proceeded to clean all the wounds on his body, removing any tiny bits of shrapnel that the two bodies didn't absorb. They stitched up the wounds and then moved on to his broken forearm, easily realigning the bone and putting a cast and sling on it. They also wrapped his chest to keep his broken ribs in place and hooked him up to a plasma drip to help recover the blood he lost. A nurse was tasked with wiping off any blood from his body and putting new clothes on him. Once done, they placed him in a spare bed, hoping he didn't sustain any brain damage.

Two days later, Edward slowly woke up, feeling the ache in his body, especially in his upper body where his ribs and arm were broken. With a groan, he attempted to sit up, using his left arm since he couldn't use his right. The pain from his cuts and ribs further awakened him. Despite being in a daze, the reality of being hospitalized from a grenade explosion was a feeling hard to describe. Knowing the likelihood of him dying in that moment was insane for Edward. Almost dying at least three times in such a short time was a very new experience. No matter how brave or badass someone is, most still fear death, and he was no different.

He sighed and let a tear roll down his cheek. Though it may be seen as weak, it was necessary for him to maintain his mental health. He desperately wanted to be a good person, but killing and war wanted to harden him.

Seeing Edward awake, a nurse walked towards him, carrying some water. "Hello there, how are you feeling?"

"Like I got my ass kicked, with a really big foot," Edward replied with a wry smile.

"I would assume so. You have a few broken ribs and a broken forearm. You were lucky that whatever hit you didn't hit your ribs a bit harder, or they would've punctured your lungs. All in all, you're lucky to be alive. Be happy you're luckier than most here," the nurse responded.

After handing him the water and ensuring he was functioning mentally, the nurse walked away to help another patient.

Reflecting on the nurse's words, Edward became even more distraught. Taking deep breaths, he managed to calm himself and reviewed the battle in his head. Thinking about his bullet expenditure, he realized he had never really shot a gun at anything while moving, let alone at another moving target. He was lucky to have survived the clash with the first guy, considering his inexperience in battle, let alone the other four.

After pondering how he was going to improve, he sighed and laid back down. He was exhausted just from moving a little bit, with his body spending most of its energy to repair itself. Closing his eyes, he fell asleep almost immediately.

He continued this cycle for the next few days: waking up, drinking and eating something light, contemplating life and death, thinking about how he could improve, and then blacking out. Through this constant cycle, he managed to heal enough to move around within a few days and was eventually released from the infirmary. He requested to be sent back to the United States since the battle was almost over, with the allied powers gaining a lot of land every day. He believed he was useless in battle and would only be taking up space and resources if he stayed for the remaining week or so of the battle.

He was flown back after 4 days since it wasn't an immediate process while in the middle of war. When he got back, after about 4 weeks due to some delays and having to take a boat at one point, he was feeling much better. He hadn't been exercising or moving much in general to allow his body to focus on healing.

He had come to terms with what happened on the battlefield and was prepared to do it all again if needed. He was nearly fully recovered, with only some light pain in his chest and arms, but it was fading at a notable speed.

Normally, injuries like his would keep someone out of duty for 12 weeks or more, but his body was exceptionally strong and his healing abilities had been pushed to the limit during his recovery, resulting in improved power and speed. Surprisingly, his cuts had already healed over, and when he removed his stitches, he found that he didn't have a single scar from the cuts he had received. Despite having a dozen and a half cuts, some of them of a decent size, his skin looked as smooth as ever.

Upon his return to the States, he was awarded a Purple Heart and given leave until he was fully recovered. They praised him as a hero and promoted him to corporal due to his astounding record. With about 360 confirmed kills, which was an impressive number, his name even made it into the papers with the title "World's Best Sniper Lives." However, he didn't let the fame get to his head, understanding that his contribution, despite the high kill count, was still relatively minor in the scope of the war. After leaving the ceremony, a black car pulled up in front of him, and as the windows rolled down, he saw a beautiful black-haired woman with a smile on her face.

"Agent Carter, nice to see you. It's been a minute," he greeted her.

"I'm well, and yes, it has. I heard that the 'World's Best Sniper' was in town, and I just had to say hello," she replied with a slight chuckle.

"Is there anything you need in particular, miss, or do you just want to witness my greatness?" he said, feigning pride.

"Take a drive with me," she invited.

He got in the car and sat to the right of Agent Carter, finding her even more attractive up close. However, he didn't see her as someone available, so he refrained from flirting and making a fool of himself.

"I'll be straight with you. I'd like you to go to London with me and a friend. We have a few operations in progress, and some backup would be much appreciated," Agent Carter explained.

"Why don't you ask Steve? Although he's a good model, I think he'd prefer the battlefield. And if you haven't noticed, I broke my gun-shooting arm, so I may not be the biggest help," he responded.

"True, he may prefer the field, but right now, keeping the morale of the American people is just as important as fighting. And yes, I did hear about your injuries. I wasn't originally planning on offering you a part until I saw you functioning nearly perfectly only 5 weeks since your injury," Agent Carter revealed.

Scratching his head nervously, he tried to explain his accelerated healing in a way that sounded realistic without giving himself away. "Yeah, I've always been a little resilient, and my injuries were mostly cosmetic, while the bones were just fractures, so they healed pretty quickly."

"Huh, is that right?" she said with a sarcastic tone. "Well, regardless of how quickly you heal, the offer still stands. We need a man on the roof, and all of us trust your track record

*Hello, I had to show his recovery and set up future events. His battle helped him get a name for himself as well as some experience in war. he'll start becoming more and more experienced until he's an expert agent. anyway he heals faster now since he got decently injured. if you like it rate it, if you don't then comment why. Author out ✌)