Getting started for Spencer meant slipping into a role he was a bit more comfortable with. Finding people was a part of his job and Spencer tried to utilize all the skills he'd gained there. It was hard; he was used to doing this with his team. Not that the Avengers weren't willing to help, they just weren't the people that Spencer was used to working with. They didn't have skillsets he was familiar with and knew well how to work with. Nor were they even typical law enforcement, a group that Spencer had enough experience on working with to be able to mesh their styles together. These people were new to him and he had no idea how to do anything with them.

He did his best, though. First things first he got himself comfortable at the bar once more—choosing to ignore how Clint was still sitting up there, right next to him—and he had JARVIS bring up screens all around him to show the data he'd need.

The whole thing would've been easier to do down in the workshop. Not only would there have been more space, there would've been no audience and then he could've freely used his powers. As it was he had to hold it back and try and do this the normal way. He was willing to play that game so long as it didn't start to hinder him in finding Tony. The minute it did, all bets were off and Spencer didn't care what happened after that.

Two holographic maps came up from phones that both Clint and Spencer had set on the counter, showing the tracking data of the two trackers that Spencer knew Tony usually carried on him. A Starklet had been brought out and on there was running the profiles of all people that the team had interviewed as well as anyone else that was on the list of 'threats' that they'd compiled—anyone that might be responsible for this.

For the moment, Spencer focused on the maps. On them were the times and locations where Tony had been, right up until the data stopped transmitting. One of them was the tracker that the others had known about. The other, he was surprised to see they hadn't known about.

That was the one that Natasha was looking closely at now. "It goes a little further than the one we knew about." She pointed out. Her finger came up and followed the trail from where Tony had been kidnapped, going a few blocks further away.

Spencer tried not to let any of the sickness he felt show. He swallowed down the lump in his throat and stared at that little blinking light that showed Tony's last known location. It was in an alley a few blocks away from where the car had been found. "They shouldn't have been able to disable it." His voice was flat, devoid of all emotion, and it earned him more than a few quick looks that he didn't notice. His eyes stayed on the map. "That's likely where they switched him out from one car to another to make for a more secure transport. The vehicle was likely built to cut off all signals that might transmit out." He hoped, at least. Otherwise… it didn't bear thinking about. Nor did he want to think about why the signal hadn't come back on at all since then.

"What is it?" Bruce asked, voicing the one question that Spencer was hoping to avoid answering. It was an answer he didn't really want to think about.

Because of that, his voice was even emptier, almost completely emotionless. "He put a tracker in the arc reactor."

A cold silence chilled the room. Now everyone was thinking about what Spencer had been trying to avoid. For the signal to the arc reactor to be cut off… it wasn't good. Either they had him in a strongly shielded vehicle, and had then transported him directly from there into a shielded facility, or things were a lot worse than they'd anticipated. No, he had to think it was the first one. He had to.

Spencer clenched down tightly on the coffee mug. He avoided looking at the others, though he heard someone curse lowly in Russian. Natasha, he thought it was. "Even if someone… destroyed the arc reactor, or took it out, the signal would still transmit. It'd retain enough of a charge on its own to continue to transmit for a few days. Tony made sure of that. It's more likely they have him somewhere that prevents the signal from getting out." Or they'd removed him somewhere they were safe to get in there, try and take things apart, and they'd removed it.

"They were prepared for it." Sam said. He didn't sound happy by it. Not that Spencer could blame him. The idea that they were prepared for that, it didn't bode well on getting Tony home.

However, Spencer shook his head. "Not for the one in the reactor, I bet. Tony didn't advertise that. He didn't even keep blueprints for it with JARVIS. More likely, they assumed Tony would have some kind of hidden tech and planned for that." Which wasn't much better of a scenario. He couldn't focus on that, though. That was something he couldn't change. What Spencer had to focus on were the things he could deal with. The things he was capable of changing or dealing with. He took a sip of his cooled down coffee and tried to bring his mind into focus. "J, can you search the last area that Tony's tracker registered at and bring up all the security cameras nearby? Go back thirty minutes before it stopped transmitting."

Leaning towards him to look at the map as well, Clint asked "Why thirty?"

"If these people are as sophisticated as I think they are, there's a good chance they'll have disabled the cameras somehow." Spencer explained, eyes on the image that JARVIS was now projecting directly in front of him. Leaning in, he watched as four cameras popped up on the screen, all showing different angles. "I want to see what happened before that point. Play it, JARVIS, and speed it up a bit. Half my usual speed, please." His usual was a lot faster and required him to be tapped into the electricity of the projects. Likely even linked to the cameras himself. This speed was what he could handle on his own, and even then it was still fast enough for the others to be caught off guard by it.

Spencer could hear them talking a little, Steve murmuring about what he was seeing and Natasha shushing him, her eyes on Spencer as much as the images. The young genius didn't care.

Right as Spencer started to perk up, catching sight of a car parking near the mouth of the alley but not actually in it, Clint leaned forward and pointed at the same car. "There." He looked back at the others and then over to Spencer before turning back to the screen to study the car. "That's the car."

The young genius hummed in agreement. "Slow it down against, JARVIS. Zoom in a little more for me, please, and capture the license plate."

"Done, sir," JARVIS said just a second later. There was a short pause before he continued to speak. "The plate appears to be stolen. It belongs to a Honda Civic owned by an elderly couple down in Queens."

Of course. Smart way to do it if they were going to have a plate showing at all. His eyes weren't on the plate, though. They were on the people inside. With window angles, he could see in, and he imagined the windows would be tinted. Come on, come on, get out, let me see your faces. If he could get a glimpse of one of them, it'd be a hell of a clue to get them going on. It'd be something.

The car started to pull forward suddenly. There was a moment, a brief second where he thought he saw something in the window, a flash of a face and a hand… pressing a button of some sort? He thought it might be. Then there was no time to see anything else; the image went black.

Spencer set his mug down and sat forward even more in his chair. "Back it up ten seconds and pause it, please." He waited as the video backed up and then paused. Spencer kept his eyes glued to the screen and he reached out with his powers without thinking about it. It was just enough to nudge the video forward three quarters of a second and then he froze it.

The only person to notice anything was Clint. He was set up close enough that he caught the hint of blue that sparkled in Spencer's eyes briefly. The others simply assumed JARVIS had moved the video forward. Then no one was thinking about it, because Spencer leaned forward and used his hands to manipulate the image in front of him, pulling up the passenger side window. Everyone was focused on that image as a rather blurry looking face appeared there.

"JARVIS, can you clean that up?" Steve asked. He moved in close to Spencer, one hand on the back of his stool as he leaned in. Spencer didn't even notice it; he was too focused on the image in front of him.

"I can, Captain." JARVIS said, sounding almost eager. "It will take time, though."

A blindingly bright smile lit up Steve's face. "That's fine. Just do the best you can." That said, he turned to look at Spencer and lifted his hand, reaching to clap Spencer on the shoulder. He was stopped by Clint's hand darting out catching his wrist, stopping him before he could.

That was what Spencer turned around to. The movement of Clint's hand had been enough to snag Spencer's attention and he drew back even as he turned, eyebrows furrowed as he took in the scene in front of him. It was apparent that Steve had tried to touch him and Clint had stopped him. Why, he wasn't sure. Very few people understood Spencer's dislike of being touched. It was even rarer that they accommodated it. At least, with people outside of his team.

In contrast to Steve's curious look, and Spencer's confused one, Clint was smiling easily at them. He held on to Steve's hand for only a second and then let it drop. "It sounds like we've got a lead to start with." Turning, he aimed his smile at Spencer. "While JARVIS does his thing, why don't we go get you settled in? I'm sure you'd like a chance to… I don't know. Clean up or get comfortable or whatever it is you'd like to do before you bury yourself in this."

As much as Spencer didn't want to step away from this, he had to admit it was a good idea. There was a very good chance he'd lose himself in things and forget to take care of quite a few important things. However, that didn't mean that he couldn't work while he did it. If Clint was the one to escorting him around here—and how strange was it, to have an escort through his brother's home, like he shouldn't have free reign here?—then there was no reason for Spencer to hide what he could do. He'd be free to follow him, to talk, and to do whatever it was he had to do, while all the while hooking in with JARVIS and continuing to work. "That sounds great, thank you."

It escaped no one's notice how Spencer shifted so that Clint stayed between him and everyone else while they headed out of the room. Nor did he notice how everyone's eyes followed them as the two headed into the elevator.

The doors to the elevator had barely closed when Spencer reached out with his powers and strengthened his connection to JARVIS. Like this, he could process everything so much faster. It always made Tony joke that Spencer's brain was part computer. He could just download the information he got and understand it all a whole lot faster than the average human. As he took all that in, he also sent off a request to JARVIS, who responded immediately by sending the elevator down—despite the fact that Clint had hit the button to go up.

"Woah." Clint leaned back, looking up at the ceiling and then over at Spencer. He took note of Spencer's glowing eyes and gave a low chuckle. "All right, then. Who needs buttons when you're linked in directly."

The elevators took them down to the only floor that Spencer wanted to be on right then. He didn't want to go to his rooms, and he wasn't quite ready yet to walk through Tony's, so he chose the second best place, the one place that was most like home in this entire tower.

The workshop.

When the elevator doors opened and Clint saw what floor they were on, he didn't seem all that surprised, though he did slant a discreetly curious look Spencer's direction. One that the young genius ignored. "Thank you for the escort, Agent Barton." Spencer said politely, stepping out of the elevator. He turned himself and stopped Clint from following. "I can take it from here."

"Dr. Reid…"

"I assure you, I have the clearance to enter Tony's workshop. I'm not using my powers to manipulate my way in here," Spencer said.

JARVIS added his own reassurances in there before Clint could speak. "Indeed he is not, Agent Barton. Dr. Reid added his own protocols when Sir installed me at the tower that guarantee certain security measures kick into place if someone with powers similar to his own try to break in and override any of my current security protocols. If he were to attempt to force me to do something, or manipulate things to change around anything with security, a virus would attack that would render him unconscious."

When that got him a raised-eyebrows look, Spencer shrugged. There was a hint of color in his cheeks and he had to drop his gaze away just a bit. "I know what powers like mine are capable of. I wasn't going to leave Tony vulnerable."

Tony had thought it was going overboard. He'd figured there was no one out there with powers just like Spencer's. But Spencer had seen plenty of 'repeat powers' out in the world. Telepaths were a dime a dozen. Energy powers existed in abundance. What's to say there wasn't another out there with some kind of electrical power that might be able try and attack the tower that way? Spencer wasn't going to risk finding out.

After a moment of quiet Clint finally spoke again. "All right. We'll be up in the common room whenever you're ready to come up, Doc."

Spencer watched as the doors to the elevator closed and he had to admit, he hadn't expected it to be that easy. Not that he was going to protest; it was just surprising. He'd figured that no one would really be all that willing to leave him alone anywhere in this tower. But most especially here in the workshop.

He turned around to look at the doors to the workshop and had to fight back the sick feeling in his stomach. This was it. This was serious. So far, he'd kept his calm, kept in control, and made himself think of this all like it was just another case. It had allowed him to be cool and collected about the whole thing. To keep the panic at bay.

Now…

Now he was going to have to walk into Tony's workshop, and it was going to be real. Tony wasn't going to be in there blaring music at some godawful volume, working on at least eight different projects at once and grinning his way through all of them. There was going to be no big smile, no happy greeting, no arms opening up for a hug—none of the things that needed to be there.

On slow, unsteady feet, Spencer made his way forward. JARVIS said nothing to him. Not even in their connection. He simply opened the doors when Spencer reached them, and closed them silently behind him.

A tremor ran down Spencer's body as he stared at the silent workshop. All around him were signs of the last time that Tony had been in here. A half-finished cup of coffee over on one table, a smoothie that Spencer was sure Dum-E had made judging by the streak of oil on the side of it, a project out on one tabletop, even a coat tossed carelessly onto a chair. That was the item that Spencer found himself making his way towards. He didn't think about it, didn't even realize that he was going to do it until he was right there, one hand reaching out to curl overtop of it.

The material felt soft underneath his fingers. This wasn't one of Tony's nice suit jackets, or one of the ones that he wore when he wanted to put on an image. No, this was his casual one. One that he put on when he was trying to be someone other than Tony Stark, playboy, billionaire, one of the most known men in the world.

Spencer remembered when his brother had gotten it. The two had been out together, the both of them in disguise so no one would recognize them as Tony dragged Spencer out of the beach house they'd been staying at and down to the Saturday Market of the little town they were in on the coast of Maine. The Market hadn't had just fresh fruit and seafood, it'd also had stands for people to sell homemade items, or clothes, or various household items.

Spencer had been fascinated by the things he saw even if he hadn't been fond of that many people. He'd dealt with it okay, though. Especially since Tony spent almost the entire trip with one arm slung around Spencer's shoulders, keeping his little brother easily tucked against his side while they went from stall to stall. This jacket had been at one of those stalls. It looked like a military surplus jacket, only it was a dark blue and made of something just a bit softer, yet no less warm. Tony had loved it for some strange reason.

It was easy for Spencer to picture how Tony had looked that day. He'd put on his new jacket almost immediately, looking as happy as he did buying from some of the highest end boutiques out there, and he'd given that huge grin of his that made his eyes almost disappear and put the laugh lines on his face. He'd had a beanie on to combat the coastal chill that came from being so close to the ocean, and he'd dressed in casual jeans and a band t-shirt. Pink Floyd, it'd been. Spencer could see all of it so clearly thanks to his eidetic memory. That was an image he held close to his heart. It was one of his big brother, of just Tony, not trying to be anyone else but himself.

Tears burned Spencer's eyes and slipped free to blaze paths down his cheeks. He pulled the jacket off the chair, tugging it close and bowing his head over it. God, Tony would mock him mercilessly if he saw him crying over a damn coat. Only, thinking of that made Spencer's tears come faster. He'd take Tony's mocking if it meant that he was home.

I'll find you, Spencer promised, holding even tighter to the coat. I swear, I'll find you.