It took me a while, but I'm back with another chapter. Still haven't quite figured out the timeline, but I did rebrand the fic a bit so there's that.
I'll be awful sometimes
Weakened to my knees
But I'll learn to get by
On the little victories
— Little Victories by Matt Nathanson
Waking up is a gradual affair, it starts with the annoying rays of sunlight coming through the gaps in the grime on the window, assaulting his closed eyelids for long enough to make him stir, and continues with the slow acknowledgment of his aching muscles and a painfully empty stomach. It ends when the memories of the past day catch up to him and make him sit up with a slightly panicked gasp, eyes darting around the poorly lit room and taking in the fact that it hadn't been a particularly creative nightmare. He really was stranded far from home without the means to go back.
I need a drink. Or ten.
He can imagine Pepper's disappointed look at that thought, but the slight amusement only lasts the fraction of a second it takes him to remember she probably thinks he's dead. He sags against the wall behind him, wondering if maybe the number of needed drinks should be doubled, that ought to be enough not to remember the past two days in their entirety. JARVIS never likes it when he gets drunk enough to pass out, he muses, but JARVIS isn't here to judge him on his awful coping mechanisms.
Unfortunately for Tony, he can't even afford a pack of gum at the moment, never mind the half a liquor store his heart desires. Ironically, that's a sobering thought. He likes to think he isn't the stereotypical rich person, he'd much rather be covered in soot from a recent explosion in one of the R&D labs than schmoozing in a gala, but the knowledge that he's absolutely penniless and with no resources to look forward to in the near future hits hard enough to make him realize he's definitely taken his money for granted in the past. His growling stomach reminds him he could really use some of that money now since the last thing he remembers having eaten are a couple of blueberries and there's no science binge to keep his mind off of it.
Feeling sorry for himself is a lot less fun without alcohol, he realizes after a few more minutes of contemplation. There's nothing to slow down his train of thought, and there's only so far he can spiral before his brain goes into problem-solving mode out of sheer – if seldom utilized – self-preservation instincts, so Tony eventually finds himself wondering about how to acquire what he needs even though he'll be starting from near scratch. He has his suit since the system should still work even though its connection with JARVIS has been severed and, with some tinkering, he should be able to use it to access the local network so long as it's not too dissimilar to the one back home.
Tinkering, however, requires tools. As talented as he is with his hands, he won't be able to do delicate circuit work without at least a soldering iron and a magnifying lens, which need to be bought, with money he doesn't have. He could steal, he considers for a moment, but it's a distasteful notion – at least if it means stealing directly from people – and he doubts he'd be able to go through with it. Stealing from an institution that can handle the loss would be another matter entirely, but to remotely hack an ATM – which should be easy enough to do – he'd need access to the network, which would come after tinkering with the suit, which calls for tools and brings him right back to the money issue. It's a frustrating cycle that leads him to the annoying conclusion that job hunting is probably his best bet.
All I need to do is find someone who won't ask too many questions and is desperate enough to hire someone with no background. Easy.
His location ends up being a bigger issue now that he actually needs access to a commercial center. Pelham Bay Park may have had a slight expansion compared to the one he was familiar with, but the surrounding area was still mostly greenery with some stores by the seashore and a couple of buildings mostly in use by the local staff or abandoned like the one he's making use of. Unless he's interested in selling food, swimwear, or floaties, he'll have to either make his way to City Island or out of the park and into somewhere like Fordham Road. Unfortunately, if he doesn't want to walk the whole way, he'll have to somehow earn at least enough money for a cab before leaving.
The thought of leaving the suit behind is also an issue, especially with the Arc Reactor on it, and he gives the armor a considering glance before shifting to his knees by it and starting the process of working it open enough to dislodge the reactor. It doesn't take long – they're made to be removed for repairs if it's done correctly after all – and soon enough he's got a billion-dollar nightlight in his hands. He stares at it consideringly for a couple of seconds before unceremoniously shoving it into a corner of the room and pulling some half-rotten pieces of cardboard over it for lack of better options. He looks over the rest of the suit, cataloging the damage – some joint disconnect that's likely the reason for the flickering thrusters and a deep gash near the hip that's definitely what turned his waterproof armor into a private swimming pool – and peering into the HUD's connecting system to see what he might need to turn it into a makeshift helmet-shaped computer that would let him get into what he needs to.
It won't need much work, he notices. It's already capable of remotely accessing foreign systems – how else would he have hacked into SHIELD comms when they didn't give him one – and it shouldn't be too hard to reroute it from satellite access to the closest wireless network, at least for a start. He'll either need to get his hands on a laptop or connect a mouse and keyboard to it, which will take more effort but significantly lower expenses. Might have to cannibalize some of the suit's wiring, but it's for a good cause so he'll try not to be too upset about it.
Mind made up, he prods the suit back into square-ish shape and pushes it over to fully hold the door closed instead of just by a corner. The window takes a bit of work to slide open but he manages eventually, slipping out of the building and closing it right behind him. That should guarantee no one being able to open the door and he'll still have a way in once he's back. It's the best he can do.
The walk toward the stores is quiet, there are some people out and about but not many, pretty much what he'd expect of a beach on a Tuesday morning-ish. He makes his way to the snack bar from the night before, mostly out of curiosity, and only passes by a couple having lunch at one of the outside tables on his way in.
"Hello, welcome to Orchard Beach Snack Bar, how can I help you?" the android behind the counter greets in the same cadence as the night before, with no recognition in her eyes. He wonders if that's because she doesn't remember him or if he shouldn't have expected a human response from an android. It makes him itch to get a look at their coding to see what sort of behavioral protocol they follow.
"Hi, I'm sorry about last night," he offers, because artificial or not, DUM-E would make those pitiful disappointed beeps if he ever caught wind of Tony being purposefully rude to another robot. "I wasn't drunk, just- mildly distressed. Got robbed of all my stuff and took a bit of a dive," he adds, because it's as good an excuse as any not to have any documents or a phone and he needs to establish a background for himself so there's no time like the present. "But no puddles today, promise," he jokes with a playful wink, "I'm Tony, by the way. You got a name?"
"I'm Ava," the android says with a slight smile. It looks real enough, which is something to think about now that he's not focused on more immediate things, and he wishes he could waltz into Cyberlife and quarantine himself within their servers to figure out exactly how they made this happen. "If you'd like to report the theft, I'm capable of getting into contact with-"
"It's alright, I'll get around to it eventually," he waves a hand dismissively. A glance at her chest tells him her model is the AV300 and the name Ava suddenly points toward a not particularly creative owner. "Thing is, I'm hungry. I can't really pay for the food, so I figured I'd ask if there's any odd job that needs doing and I could trade the work for some breakfast."
There's a moment of silence, with Ava's LED pulsing from blue to yellow for a couple of seconds – processing? Tony guesses – before she responds. "I'm sorry, we don't seem to have any jobs available. Is there any other way I can be of assistance?"
He sighs, "Fair enough. Unless you know of anyone that needs some help, preferably with tech, I'll just be on my way."
Tony just nods at her silence and turns around before a call makes him pause. "Tony?" She sounds slightly unsure if she should be using the name he gave her and he's momentarily thrown back to when he tried to get JARVIS to quit calling him Sir, not that it ever worked. He looks back toward her, which she takes as a cue to continue, "The ice cream shop four doors to the right has been having trouble with their freezer, it may have yet to be resolved."
"Huh, I'll check that out," he offers her a slight grin, "thanks Ava."
It's not hard to spot the shop, the large sign has 'Cold Twist' written on it with an ice cream cone instead of the letter T, and two kids are slurping their cold treats right by the door. He steps closer to the counter, looking for whoever works in the shop, and nearly jumps when an old man seemingly appears out of nowhere, though the slight groan tells him he was actually crouched behind the counter for some reason and just stood up.
"What can I get ya, sonny?" He's not sure if he's the one projecting his tiredness onto the older man or if it just makes sense to sound this done with the week when it's only Tuesday, but the guy sounds like he could use some rest.
"Uh- someone mentioned your freezer might be broken," he attempts to explain, feeling an unexpected amount of sympathy for every Stark Industries employee who's ever had to endure a job interview, "I'm good with tech," understatement of the century, "and I need some cash, so I thought I'd check if that's been fixed yet?"
The man behind the counter strokes his mostly gray beard, looking him up and down and likely judging him for the slightly dirty clothes and messy hair, but hey at least yesterday's unplanned dive meant he didn't smell yet. That would be something else to worry about later, after more immediate necessities like food and access to the internet.
"Tell you what, I'm still waiting for the guy to call me back about it so if you can fix it, I'll give you his fee," the man offers, and Tony admittedly hadn't expected to solve this particular problem so quickly but isn't about to look a gift horse in the mouth.
"Deal," he eagerly accepts.
"Alright," the man nods and moves toward a door behind the counter, motioning for Tony to follow. "What should I call ya?"
"Just Tony," he knows his last name probably means nothing here, and it's a bittersweet feeling if he stops to think about it, but he's not eager for the reminder it'll be when people say it without the weight it used to have behind it.
"I'm Arthur, then," They shake hands and the old man pats him on the back before steering him into the back room toward a couple of horizontal freezers. One of them is clearly empty, meaning it's probably the defective one. "Old thing's served me well for a while, don't wanna give up on it yet but it won't stay cold. I've got some tools…" he steps away toward what looks like a small closet and comes back with a decently sized toolkit, "dunno if it'll have all you need but my son's used it to fix these things when he's around."
"I'll make do," Tony assures, opening it and ending up pleasantly surprised. He's not about to build a motherboard but it should be enough for whatever is wrong with the freezer. "So, your son's good with this stuff?"
He's alright at small talk, has to be in order to schmooze the rich and powerful without getting bored out of his skull, and it's a better option than examining the freezer in complete silence while the old man watches to make sure he's not stealing anything from the back of the store.
Arthur lets out an amused-sounding huff, "I'd say so, kid works at that big, ugly thing in Belle-isle. They keep him way too busy to visit his old man lately."
Tony hums in acknowledgment, pushing the freezer off the wall to open the back for a look. Once he's crouching behind it, the words finally hit him. "Wait, you mean Cyberlife?" He asks, remembering that the company's main building is a tower in that particular location.
"That's the one," Arthur confirms, walking away for a moment just to come back dragging a chair, "Don't get me wrong, I'm mighty proud of him, I just wish he'd picked somewhere closer. Kid's too bright for his own good," he sits down with a sigh.
"Does he at least like it there?" Tony prompts, dedicating some attention toward keeping the conversation going but mostly focused on checking out the inside of the freezer. Nothing was visibly damaged, so he was in for some searching.
"Loves it," Arthur replies, not sounding resentful about it. "He's always been fascinated about androids, shouldn't be surprised he'd wanna work on the damn things."
"Not a fan?" He asks absently, dismissing anything wrong with the compressor. The vents also seemed to be in working order, and the capillary tube was undamaged as far as he could see. "You said it's not staying cold, is it just not turning on or actually keeping the wrong temperature?"
"I've been around long enough to remember the time those things looked like something out of a horror movie," the man replies, "all perfect, no breathing, didn't even have any god damned eyelids to blink with. Sure, they're fixed now, but the eyes still look empty enough to be creepy." there's a small pause and a hum before his question is actually answered, "it's turning on just fine, but says it's three degrees when it feels like twenty. Keeps melting my stuff."
"Huh," Tony abandons the back of the freezer and stands, looking around it instead for the label. "Can I use your phone for a search real quick?" he asks after a moment.
"Sure," Arthur stands and pulls it out of his pocket, handing it to Tony. It's less modern than the one he'd borrowed from Owen, but still leagues ahead of the latest iPhone he remembers seeing in the streets at home. He looks up what he needs and gives it back after a couple of minutes. "Forgot yours?"
"Got robbed yesterday," he explains, sticking with the story he'd given Ava. "It's why I need some quick cash, gotta get back to the city somehow."
"No bank account?" Arthur's tone is skeptical, which makes sense, and Tony has to think fast of a decent excuse.
"Dad cut me off," he settles on after a minute, hoping it sounds like he's hesitating out of embarrassment instead of taking the time to come up with a lie. "I know I'm way too old to be living on the old man's dime, but he didn't seem to mind until last week. Kinda wish I'd planned for it, but that's life."
"You don't sound like some spoiled rich kid," the man points out with some surprise.
Tony can't help but chuckle, "You haven't seen me in party mode." He leans over the freezer to get a look inside and grabs a couple of tools to pull out the temperature sensor. "Pretty sure this is the issue," he announces after the sensor is out, moving back toward the toolkit for the multimeter. There's a lull in the small talk as he tries to get a read from the sensor and it comes back with wildly inaccurate numbers. "Yeah, thing's busted. You gotta replace it, but at least everything else seems in working order. I can't exactly fix this, though."
"Hm," Arthur just watches him for a moment before pulling something out of another pocket, "if I give you the money, can you just go buy it? Or are you gonna run off with it?"
It sounds like a genuine question, which throws him off – mostly because who the hell even risks this – but he's quick to reply, "Not running off quite yet," he assures, "cab fare and fifty bucks wouldn't get me far anyway."
That's how he ends up in a cab toward the closest store with a thermistor in their catalog. The whole thing takes nearly over an hour including the road time and he realizes halfway through it that the guy could simply have had it drone-delivered – in fact, the store clerk is the one to point it out – so it's probably more of a test than anything. It's annoying, though mostly embarrassing, that it took him so long to figure it out. Arthur seems amused by his mood upon return though, and he gets the job done in ten minutes after that.
"Deal's a deal," the old man says, handing him around six hundred bucks. It's probably more than he'd have paid for the actual repair, and Tony is quick to point that out. "Just take it, go get something to eat so I don't have to hear your stomach growling anymore, and get yourself home safe."
"Thanks," he says, meaning it more than the man can probably tell.
"Take care, Tony," Arthur tells him, and he makes no promises.
His stomach takes him back to the snack bar and he greets Ava with a less forced smile, thanking her for the tip and asking for the time – 3:27 p.m. she informs him – before ordering a cheeseburger and a beer. The temptation to make his next stop at a liquor store is strong, but he keeps from inhaling the meal by talking himself out of it instead since he actually needs to be smart about this money.
He still drinks a second beer.
The author has never fixed a freezer so please make use of some suspension of disbelief regarding anything tech-related in this fic, just to be safe. This is ironic for someone writing Tony Stark but hey, the "Comic Book Science" tag is there for a reason.
No idea when the next chapter will be, but that's just the usual deal with me XD
