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myheartglowsThe moment the house's invisible scanners registered an aware consciousness, JARVIS's protocols kicked in and he greeted Steve to the day of light: "Good morning, Captain Rogers. The date is Friday, October 7th. The temperature outside is 61 degrees with a humidity of..." He droned on through the rest, like nothing had changed, like he had never been disconnected from his conversation patterns or audio responses for the past five months.
Should Steve follow, perhaps, his instincts, or a simple word from JARVIS when prompted, he'd find himself barreling past the curving white halls and occasional hanging vine from potted plants, the bright light of repeating windows shining across hard floors in a space far too big for only one person, the sleekness of modern furniture and the cool earth tones that so contrasted against the vibrancy of the house's original owner, who -- who, as Steve could find out, sat downstairs in the workshop, long since locked, in the dark. (The workshop which had been shut down, vacant, motionless, eerie in contrast to the constant movement of before, when holograms flew through the air and the robots rolled around and always something, something was always going on, even when Tony had been sleeping: ready lights flickering on computer towers in the darkness (he never shut them down) and the steady hum of machinery lying in wait, in wait, waiting for--)
The lights were off. Tony sat in the recliner, hunched over, head hanging, one hand buried in his hair with his forehead on his palm. His back partly faced the workshop door, the thin windows through the basement buttresses enough to reveal him, and when Steve reached the keypad to punch in his access code, which would still work (of course, he had to pass through it every time he wanted to take the motorcycle out of the garage, and every time he wanted to come in through it, past all that black deadness in the shop), Tony's voice sounded out through the intercom on the wall next to it, hollow: "Guess the city wasn't ready to let me go, after all."
Should Steve follow, perhaps, his instincts, or a simple word from JARVIS when prompted, he'd find himself barreling past the curving white halls and occasional hanging vine from potted plants, the bright light of repeating windows shining across hard floors in a space far too big for only one person, the sleekness of modern furniture and the cool earth tones that so contrasted against the vibrancy of the house's original owner, who -- who, as Steve could find out, sat downstairs in the workshop, long since locked, in the dark. (The workshop which had been shut down, vacant, motionless, eerie in contrast to the constant movement of before, when holograms flew through the air and the robots rolled around and always something, something was always going on, even when Tony had been sleeping: ready lights flickering on computer towers in the darkness (he never shut them down) and the steady hum of machinery lying in wait, in wait, waiting for--)
The lights were off. Tony sat in the recliner, hunched over, head hanging, one hand buried in his hair with his forehead on his palm. His back partly faced the workshop door, the thin windows through the basement buttresses enough to reveal him, and when Steve reached the keypad to punch in his access code, which would still work (of course, he had to pass through it every time he wanted to take the motorcycle out of the garage, and every time he wanted to come in through it, past all that black deadness in the shop), Tony's voice sounded out through the intercom on the wall next to it, hollow: "Guess the city wasn't ready to let me go, after all."
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Date: 2013-06-08 04:26 am (UTC)He breezed past Cap on his way to Dummy's and Butterfingers's charging stations, and then paused, and, looking over his shoulder at first honestly surprised and then honestly confused, knitted his brow. "You kept it?"
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Date: 2013-06-08 04:37 am (UTC)Maybe Tony would have been surprised to learn it, but everything pretty much remained untouched. With the exception of the bike, though that still looked the same as when he got it, too.
"And all your clothes, personal effects, whatever you left behind went into storage here at the house. Both Jane and I decided that if you did come back, or another version of you, that it would be here." Steve told him.
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Date: 2013-06-08 04:43 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2013-07-26 05:58 pm (UTC)Without moving, Steve turned his head towards the door. "Anyway, I'll be upstairs if you need me for anything. We can talk more.." Steve swallowed. Saying 'when you get settled back in' was just wrong. If he had any kind of control, made a deal with someone to make sure Tony was never brought back, he would've done it without question.
But wishes like that were childish.
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Date: 2013-07-27 06:51 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2013-07-27 08:11 pm (UTC)Going anywhere wasn't really in the plan, anyway. Not now. But, he should call the club he happened to be doing security detail for that night and let them know that his crew would be working without him tonight.
He paused at the top of the stairs, and turned his gaze back towards where he knew Tony was. Despite everything, it felt good to have someone close there in the house again.
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Date: 2013-07-27 08:35 pm (UTC)God, he had never even had a chance to miss her.
His throat closed up and his eyesight blurred, and Tony hunched forward with his face in his hand, and cried quietly, instinctively keeping it down to gasps and shudders, even though the shop was soundproof.