String Theory

Chapter 2

He stayed in his lab at the Avengers compound after that. It was a familiar place, and occasionally, he didn't feel quite so alone. He had enough to keep him busy, though sometimes, he didn't have the energy to actually do anything; he just sat there. Between Steve and Rhodey, he was taken care of. Rhodes became scarce once the government enlisted his help for the global cleanup protocols, so really, it was just Steve and Tony, with occasional weekend visits from Rhodey. Steve makes a chore of caring for Tony. It helps. He brings him food, or takes him to bed when he finds him passed out at a workbench.

That's where Tony is now, tinkering with one of the suits. It would have been for Peter. There's no point in working on it, but it helps a little. His hands roam the wrist gauntlet, prying through microwires and nanoprocessors, looking for the faulty connection. His left arm is aching. He's been at it hours, although he doesn't realize it. If Peter were here, the kid would have some remark about Tony getting old, or he'd come over and find the bad wire in a few seconds. Maybe he'd be stuck on the ceiling, watching some TV show on the projector in the corner, or napping in one of the cars. Tony straightens up and takes a heavy breath at that set of thoughts. Even with the reactor powering him, his heart is just too heavy to bear that weight.

On a workbench next to him, tools scatter suddenly, as if someone shoved them off the table. One of the gauntlets falls to the floor with a clang. Tony's gaze snaps to focus on the disturbance, brows furrowing. Nothing's there to have caused it. He stands, and moves towards the displaced gauntlet.

"Pause music," he says. "FRIDAY?"

"Online, boss."

"What the hell was that?" As he asks, Tony stoops to pick up the gauntlet. It's inactive. It sure didn't move on its own. "We got a ghost?"

"...No abnormal spectrum readings, and no EMFs."

"Yeah. Didn't mean literally." He glances around, looking to see the source of the prank, because it must have been a prank. After a long moment, Tony tosses the gauntlet back down on the table, muttering to himself, and returns to his workbench. When he sits, his eye catches a steno-pad on the edge of the table, and he frowns. He could have sworn that it wasn't there before, and the handwriting etched across the front isn't his own. A thumb brushes the few words scribbled down.

He feels like he should know what Orthus is.

>> SECURE SERVER: 1028139001008...
>> DOWNLOADING CLIENT DATA...
>> INCOMING MESSAGE.
>> AG: Stark? _
>> AG: Are you receiving this? _
>> AG: Please respond. Our reality is in danger. We need your help. _

We? Who's we? Peter takes a shaking breath, hands hovering over the keyboard. Maybe this is one of the Avengers. Maybe they know more than he does. He taps at the keys quickly.

>>> TS: I'm here _

There's a pause, and as the seconds drag into a minute, Peter can feel his anxiety brewing. The connection must have been broken, he thinks. I'm never gonna get it back if it was broken. Not with the satellites down. He chews the inside of his lip, eyes fixed on the screen before him. When there's no response after a minute or two, he shakes his head. "Karen, is the—"

The monitor beeps an interruption, displaying new messages.

>> AG: Oh thank god _
>> AG: How much do you remember? When did you wake up? Where are you? _

Peter frowns, and it suddenly strikes him how odd this is. He's not keen on infodumping to an anonymous person, especially not someone who could be associated with Orthus. It's equally likely that AG might have malicious intentions. Meyers' menacing smile is still burned to his brain, and he gets an uneasy feeling just thinking about it.