Chapter 5: The Filler we Need

The next few days settled into an easy pattern. Mornings Tony would get up from bed, place his sling on and slather his injuries with antibacterial cream while Corvin took her time stretching out and moving about the room. Tony tended to skip breakfast, going straight for coffee blacker than her soul. She'd yowl up at him until he gave her some chicken or shrimp from the fridge. She refused to touch the dry food in her new food bowl, it looked and smelled disgusting.

Tony would then disappear into this workshop, where the magic happened. Slowly, the Mark II took form, starting with the boots. It was fascinating to watch it all come together. For awhile, at least. There was only so long she could watch, absolutely lost, as he worked through the mechanics. She lasted two days watching before she decided to busy herself during the day.

This found her exploring the house and surrounding areas in depth. Despite Tony being one of the most interesting people in the world, his house was insanely boring. So fucking boring, holy shit. She was ready to kneel over within a few days from it. Holy shit.

So, to stave off imminent death, Corvin went to town pretty often. She slowly began moving her stash of nick-knacks to the house, carrying the smaller pieces in an old beanie she'd found. She put them in a small alcove she found under a desk in an unused room, sorting them out how she fancied. She'd place each type of item in different piles based on use or if they were trinkets. Sea glass and shells had their own separate piles, and she'd spend a long time sorting them out by color; arranging them in a row by color, and placing then the smaller pieces on top of the larger pieces that shared the same color.

It was a very difficult feat without opposable thumbs.

Some small voice in Corvin's head told her that her need to collect then sort her items was some sort of coping mechanism. Trying to gain belonging and control of things after being thrust into an impossible situation. Or something close to it. She knew she should probably sit down and process things more in depth, but if denial's a state, she'd be the Governor.

Tony hadn't noticed the collection, or, if he had, hadn't said anything of it. Which was probably why she was in her current predicament.

She was coming back to the house, about a week after moving in, feeling pretty good. Tony was making ridiculous progress with the Mark II, and she was moving the last of her collection over to the house.

She had the last, and largest item of her collection tucked between her teeth. It was jaw bone, probably from a coyote, and she was ridiculously proud of it. She had found it in the fotalage between Tony's house and the city. It had been dirty and grimy, but free of any decaying flesh, so she didn't feel too bad about picking it up. The top half was there as well, but it was smashed to pieces. The coyote probably got hit by a car then dragged off to the side of the road. The jawbone still had all its teeth and was bleached white in the Malibu sun, so she stole away with it quickly. She had given it a thorough wash in a nearby shallow fountain to free it of dirt and it had been her collection centerpiece ever since. She delighted in wrapping the jewelry around the teeth and placing shiny stones within it. It made her feel all mystical, like a witch from the forest decorating an altar.

She wondered if she could get some candles and plants to make the vibe complete, for aesthetic reasons. Maybe she'd get a viking vibe going, appease her Norwegian cat ancestry. It definitely held appeal.

Corvin brought her jawbone into the house, the door opening automatically for her. She pit-patted her way upstairs and to the unused room.

Her stash was in place, everything sorted and looking nice. Corvin placed the bone in the center of the area, clawing at some strands of jewelry with her claws before delicately draping them around and between the teeth.

She sat back to admire the look, feeling pleased with everything. There was an eagerness in her to find more things, to hord them and make them her own. When she passed shops, peoples purses or cars, she felt a strong, almost unstoppable urge, to take. She didn't - mostly- resisting the more risky or wrong urges. Like when she saw the shiny bit of crystal a child was holding, no doubt bought from a seaside vendor. Corvin had felt the strongest urge to go and rip the rock from their hand and take off. She shook off the feeling quickly, of course, and was more cautious since.

Corvin did, however, steal from assholes. Like the ones who tried to kick her. Because fuck them.

The next day, Corvin stayed with Tony, watching him put together the suit. Thankfully, she didn't miss him trying to fly for the first time. She was able to watch him faceplant into the ceiling and cackle at him. After checking that he was ok first, obviously. But besides a new bruised set of ribs and an equally bruised pride, he was good. He got working on the flight stabilizers post haste.

The fabrication process of all the tiny pieces is what took the most time, eating up hours of the day. Tony's injured state slowed it down even more. It all seemed to go by so much faster in the movies.

By the time night fell, Corvin was passed out in her little kitty corner bed and Tony was rubbing at his eyes with his good hand.

"Alright Licorice, time for bed. If I stay up any later Jarvis will tattle on me to Pepper." the man said, standing and stretching out his back. She grunted from where she was laying, comfortable and unwilling to get up. "Come on, puttin." He cooed, moving to pick her up. He squatted next to her, scooping her up with his good arm.

Corvin let out a merp sound, her body flopping around like a wet noodle as she refused to put effort into moving. Tony was fine with this, wedging her against his chest and making his way to the elevator.

He scrit-scratched her rump with his other hand as best as the sling would allow as they rode up. Corvin stretched out, one paw coming up and lightly brushing against the scientist's face.

"I am the Chosen one," he intoned in a faux awe voice before attacking the top of her head with smooches.

Tony was watching too many fucking cat videos.

The elevator opened on the bedroom floor and the smell of cleaner and febreze wafted through like a cloud. Tony sniffed the air, smelling it as well.

"Hm, cleaners were here." he hummed, moving forward and down the hall.

Cleaners? Stereotypes made her think of long legged women in short maid outfits, but she knew better. Tony was funny with his public image, but he took no shit in private, and she was certain he hired professionals he trusted not to steal his shit-

Wait.

Waaiiittt…

Oh shit

Corvin launched herself out of Tony's arms, the man giving a surprised 'oof' as she used his stomach like a springboard. She dashed down the hall to the room she claimed as her collection room, only to be thwarted by a closed door with a round knob.

CURSE her lack of opposable thumbs!

Thankfully, Tony had followed her in her mad dash, no doubt curious to see what made her go from lethargic to lunatic in less than a second.

"I got that," he said down to her, turning the knob with his good hand and pushing open the door. She pushed through the gap as soon as she could squeeze her fluffy body through, vaulting herself over to the desk. She looked under it to where her precious collection lay…

Gone.

All of it. Gone. Swept and discarded by a cleaning crew just doing their job. A cleaning crew who saw her wonderful collection of nick-nacks and doo-dads and deemed it trash.

Big, fat, salty tears leaked from the edges of her eyes, dampening her fur. Corvin's crying quickly picked up, turning from a few tears and devolving into a full cry-fest. An ugly snort-sniffle sound came from her with every inhale as a throat and nose that were not made for human levels of crying struggled to keep up.

She was losing her shit, her mind a cloud of despair at the loss of her collection, the one true thing she had that was hers since she fell into this universe. Hers and hers alone.

Corvin knew, somewhere behind all the crying that was slowly going into a full meltdown, that this was overdue. Ever since landing here, she hadn't allowed herself to fully sit and have a good cry over everything. Crying was important. It helped regulate brain chemicals and she knew if people didn't cry, all those pent up emotions could literally fry the brain. So crying was good, healthy even.

Didn't mean she liked doing it.

Especially not in front of people.

"Ah shit, no baby," Tony cooed softly, kneeling down next to her. His uninjured hand came up and ran through the fur along her back. Corvin moved closer to the man, seeking comfort. She pressed her face against his leg as more sniffle-sobs came out.

"Noo no, baby no. What's wrong, baby? Why are you crying? Oh my god, this is heartbreaking." Tony continued, sitting down criss-cross and pulling her into his lap. His arms wound around her as best they could, petting along her fur and behind her ears. It helped a lot, allowing Corvin to ground herself a bit until she calmed down a bit. The sniffle-sobs quieting into a silent, steady stream of tears.

"J, you got anything, man? I need something." Tony begged to the ceiling.

"It appears, Sir, that the cleaning crew that passed through the mansion earlier today have cleared out Miss Licorice's small stash of items."

"Items?"

"Miss Licorice has been moving items here periodically over the past week and placing them under the desk, Sir."

"Huh," Tony replied, eyebrows drawn as he thought. "Do you know what happened to the items?"

"They were taken with the van, Sir."

"Shit,"

"If you'd like, i can review the footage and compile a list of the items."

"That'd be perfect, thanks J. And see if you can get the stuff back from the cleaning crew if they haven't already tossed them."

"Of course, Sir."

Tony looked down at her, "hear that, Licorice? We're getting your stuff back, baby, or new ones. I promise."

It… sounded good. Really good. Especially to her now tired self, all cried out. Her sluggish mind tried to, for a moment, just marvel at the generosity of this man. She was a fucking cat, and Tony was trying to give her back her trinkets. She wasn't even a human person and he was going above and beyond to make her happy.

'The world does not deserve you, Anthony Edward Stark.' she thought to herself, nestling herself deeper into his arms, silently vowing to protect this cinnamon roll of a man from future shit.

Corvin's tears had finally subsided, but her face was still wet and she even had slobber coming out of her mouth. Maybe even snot from her tiny nose, but she couldn't see.

"C'mon baby, lets go get you cleaned up." the godsend that was Tony said. He stood up carefully, holding her close to his good side. She helpfully wiggled her back feet into the edge of her belt as usual and he carried her from the room, down to his, and then straight into the bathroom.

Not once did he put her down, not even when he reached for a towel with his bad arm, leaning over at an awkward angle as to not over extend the arm. Tony toweled off her damp face, gentle around her eyes and whiskers. Corvin made sure to lean to a helpful angle.

When he was all done getting what he could, Tony placed the towel down on the closed toilet seat and got a wash rag, dampened it, then repeated the motions. The second go through got off the rest of the slobber and snot that had been clinging to her fur and Corvin was grateful.

Tony just stood there after getting done and throwing the soiled cloth in the hamper. He looked down at her and she looked up at him, her eyes still watery but clearing.

He let out a long sigh, "Guess we're both a little messed up, huh Licorice Stick?" he smiled softly, his bad hand reaching up and scratching behind her ear as best it could. Corvin replied with a very small, tired meow.

"Lets go to bed now, it's been a long day."

Tony carried her back into his room, not bothering to place her into her cat bed, instead just setting her down on his. He quickly discarded his sling and put on some more antibacterial cream before climbing into bed. He snuggled up next to her, her small furry form wedged between his good arm and his side as he settled in.

A hand gave her little scratches on the head for awhile after as they both laid there and Corvin felt odd. She had just bonded a little with a man she couldn't even fully communicate with. She felt closer to Tony now after her breakdown, kin-ship even. And maybe Tony felt it too, if the way he was cuddling her was any indication.

It was a nice feeling; it was a platonic bond, and a strong one at that.

Corvin could feel it, down in her bones, that she and Tony would only get closer as the future unfolded.