Title: Resurrection Art
Artist: Miko
Pairing: Tony/Steve seanchai and elspethdixon
Summary: Takes place in elspethdixon's and seanchai's Resurrection, Reconstruction & Redemption fic during Chapter 7. What's Tony doing whilst his bodyguard is away?
Part 2 of 3
And he's off actually doing things and not thinking in his mind! Took him long enough right? Enjoy…
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Tony didn't exactly remember most of the walk to the store. Maybe he shouldn't have gone out without Steve.
A few news stations had picked up on all of the Doombot turmoil and terrorist attacks that had been taking place in New York and had sent out multiple vans into high activity zones. Tony had started monitoring their feeds as well for better points of view on the action and he'd gotten slightly caught up in the multi-tasking.
The only thing that had refocused his attention back to waking life was that he was now standing in front of a doorway and was blocking the people who were trying to leave the storefront. He gave them a sheepish grin that he didn't really feel, and took a step to the side as they just stared at him as though he had two heads.
Once they were safely down the sidewalk Tony double-checked the front door to make sure his auto-pilot had taken him to the correct location. He looked through the store front window.
Easels, charcoal sticks, yarn, and cloth stared back at him.
He walked in the entrance and was bombarded with the smells of cut paper and fresh paint. Tony looked up at the signs labeling what lay in what aisle and made his way left towards the drawing, rather then painting materials.
Tony found concentrating on all of the little items in the store and seeing which ones Steve might actually use or need to be more challenging then it should have been. The store's security system was tripping him up a little as well. For such an archaic model it was a really loud presence inside of his mind, almost like it was shouting at him.
He glared at one of the cameras hanging from the left corner ceiling of the store… mocking him and his inability to go shopping for art supplies He resisted the urge to shut it off.
He decided life would just be easier if he had one of the store clerks pick things out for him instead.
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"Excuse me." Tony paused until he had the clerk's attention. The man was in early twenties. "Yes, can I help you sir?" The young man replied, smiling wide, shaggy brown hair all shiny.
"What exactly would you recommend me buying if I wanted to draw… something?" He asked distractedly.
"Uh, well what did you have in mind?" The clerk responded, continuing to smile.
"Paper and pencils?" Tony replied.
The man laughed until he realized Tony hadn't said anything funny. "Um, no I mean, what were you thinking about drawing?"
"Oh," Snoopy? Tony thought at the back of his mind. "Still life?" he said out loud.
The young man looked at him strangely but said nothing and finally shrugged, grabbed a basket, and waited for Tony to follow him.
"So are you starting a new hobby?" The clerk asked as they walked down towards the large notebooks full of sketch paper of different thicknesses. "No." Tony said preoccupied. "Oh… are you getting these for your girlfriend then?"
Tony paused in his step for a split second. "Something like that." He replied.
"Here's a good one." The young man said, oblivious to Tony's awkwardness behind him. He placed a notebook of paper that saidsketch on the cover into the basket he was holding.
Tony had quit paying attention. He was working on fixing the feedback on one of his uplinks to several SHEILD agents who were complaining of static.
He and the clerk had walked up and down a couple of aisles and more things had been added to the basket before Tony realized the man was talking to him again.
"Hey… I know who you remind me of!" The young clerk was saying, looking like he'd just had an epiphany. Apparently he'd been trying to figure this out for a while.
"Who?" Tony stated cautiously, curious enough to fold most of the Extremis data into the back corner of his mind.
"Tony Stark!" The man replied, proud of himself for the accomplishment. "Ya know… if you were a little taller."
Tony blinked. "Taller?"
"Yeah! You could be like his older brother or something." He said, that stupid grin still on his face.
Tony must have given him a look because the smile began the waver and the man sounded almost worried when he spoke again. "Has anyone else told you that before?"
Tony furrowed his brow. "Has anyone ever told me that I look like a shorter, older, version of Tony Stark?"
The clerk nodded pensively. "Yeah?"
"Nope! You're the first." Tony smiled at the man and reached out his hand for the basket of art supplies. The clerk looked down at the basket and handed it over to Tony.
"Oh," The clerk exclaimed looking down at his other hand. "Here," he handed Tony something that looked like a white pencil sharpened on both ends. "It's a blending stump. She'll need it for shading."
Tony added the item to the basket without taking his eyes off the clerk.
"Thanks." He stated, voice dripping icily, and made his way to the check-out counter.
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Awkward moments concerning Steve quickly became a distant memory as Tony made his way back to the hotel room, simultaneously attempting to follow the news streams in the back of his mind; balancing between the rhetoric in Latveria and translation software for the Chinese Embassy. He'd been hearing more and more about what Tony considered to be Mandarin Activity with each passing hour.
Tony had just begun relaying orders Fury had transcribed to him in a computer file, when a news van he'd been monitoring showed something of interest. Tony amped the feed and brought the fuzzy hand-held camera of the reporter into focus.
The Channel 4 News team believed it had uncovered a Doombot procession parading towards the theater district of New York. Tony triangulated their position and tried to verify with multiple sources before contacting the nearest unit under SHEILD command.
He tapped into a few handheld phones taking videos and pictures near the location of the reporters, but nothing that could give him a substantial feed.
Finally the news van traveled close enough to pick up the rhythmic chanting of "Doom! Doom!" That was enough for Tony.
He pulled the list of team locations to see who was closet.
Great.
He was about to open up the comm. frequency for the New Avengers when someone shoved him hard in the shoulder. Tony spun back and hit the side of a store front as the man who'd slammed into him gave him the finger and continued walking. "Look where the fuck you're going buddy!" The man yelled over his shoulder.
Watching the man grow distant, Tony closed his eyes, re-opening the connections to the Extremis that had been torn away by the physical assault. His head pounded the way it always did when he shut his mind down too quickly.
//Doombots on 45th Street// Tony told the New Avengers. His head pounded harder. He felt the pressure in his ears.
He rested his head against the side of the building he'd been pushed against, letting the cool brick sooth his skin. //Six to ten of them—the news cameras can't get a clear view.//
He wasn't sure they had heard him. He was about to try again when finally Luke's affirmative response rang in his ears and his mind. "We've got it."
The connection was cut after that and Tony managed to pick his head up off the wall with a little effort. He stretched his neck backwards and lifted his chin, the pressure in his head subsiding. As he lowered his head again, the sign of the store front he'd been standing beside caught his attention. It was a restaurant.
Hmm… Steve likes Chinese food. Tony thought to himself, accessing the Extremis and checking the time. Seemed about the right time to eat…
That's what normal people did right? They ate food and bought things for their boyfriend's to show their affection.
He used to be so good at this. This acting normal thing. Why couldn't it be like riding a bike?
But then again, what he felt for Steve, the strong connection he'd built with the man over the years, the friendship that would underlie anything that did or did not last past this week, it wasn't like other relationships that Tony had been a part of. Steve was the most important person in Tony's life, always had been. And the epiphany that Tony had endured, the one that had forced him to change his ways, was realizing that even past death, he always would be.
Tony opened the door to the small Chinese Food restaurant and winced only slightly as the Extremis connections with his brain fought for more attention then he could momentarily give.
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