i always had a feeling you would show [bete noire]

[myheartglows]

The 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."

Comments

[backin_theworld]

It had been damn near five months. Five months. Steve watched as one by one, everyone who ever mattered to him in that damn place disappear. Return home. Proceed with their lives as if they never left it. It was fact. Everyone would leave sooner or later, no matter how long they'd been in the city.

Patrick Jane was the last to go, and that morning - despite it being over a month ago - was still fresh in his mind. Uhura, before him. And since the city had no plans of releasing him anytime soon (and ironically, he did pray for it because being returned to the frozen depths of the Atlantic seemed a far better fate than this would ever be), Steve was left with a large house with nothing left in it, and no motivation to start over.

The city finally had a firm hold on him.

But that morning, when his eyes fluttered open at the familiar sound of JARVIS, Steve was sure he was still asleep; fooling him into believing he was still lost inside a dream. It had been five months.

Yet, after making his way down to the shop -- the only place he knew to find him if he was really back -- and spent several long moments looking at the darkened form beyond the glass while he punched in his code. Then once he heard the click of the lock as it released, Steve slowly opened the door as Tony spoke, and only stepped far enough in to let the door close behind him.

"I spent every night hoping they were, Tony."

[backin_theworld]

It took a lot to busy himself with things; allow Tony that time to do whatever he needed to do. But, whatever he started, whether it was making coffee in the kitchen, or attempting to sketch something in his notebook while sitting out back, he found himself more distracted than usual.

Trying to put behind all the people that came and went while he was stuck there was practically impossible. Sure, he could displace the memories, keep them pushed back onto the edges of his mind and out of his direct thoughts, but he couldn't fool himself. That was a lesson he learned quickly.

But, after Jane left, and he was left in the house by himself, it was too hard.

He headed down to the gym, taped up his hands slower than normal and took position in front of the punching bag.

As he thought about each of the people he met there; Howard, River, Pepper, Tony, Hermione, Jane, Draco - all whom he invested a part of himself in getting to know, only to have taken from him - the punches became more aggressive.

The worst part was knowing that this was just another way for the city to get the best of him; break him down. It was another test, and eventually, it would return Tony home again leaving him alone.

Because there was nothing for him to go back to.