revivalproject

"Never claimed the King of Cats was regal," Reeve counters. But he chuckles at the suggestion. "And cats would accept even a weird little fae."

It was stories his mother cold him, his late mother. What could be more fitting for a child's toy than a child's story.

"Somewhere with a basement or a large building with a hole nearby. He remembers falling."

Tony thought he would welcome some more direction here, so they weren't dependent on Reeve who Tony wasn't sure should even be keeping his eyes open right then and he didn't feel so entirely useless, but the information made him groan. This whole place was large buildings and holes, there were more holes than reliable surfaces. "It's good to know the cats are open minded, but someone should tell them that the preferred term these days is 'homosexual'," he said as they came out of the alley and slowed at the corner of the next block of buildings. Great, they were all large buildings, for sure. "Like, a hole in the building, near your guy? Or there's just a hole nearby that you think is a good landmark, for some reason?"

"You are a strange and almost bewitching man, Tony Stark. Are you sure you're not fae, I mean homosexual, yourself."

Ha ha look at him make a joke on Tony being a very queer man. Still, the question warrants answering and he gestures for them to stop.

"He crossed the limit between us abruptly and very definitively. Not a step over, but FEET over. He raced beyond it. Which means he fell or something gave out under him."

Reeve had already told Tony about his lack of playground experience, and so far he had been pretty comfortable telling Tony about his romantic experiences so Tony had to guess that his mom wasn't spending their time on the farm calling him a fairy; he couldn't, under these circumstances, be blamed for being so clumsy at volleying that one back to Tony. He never had the chance to practice. As they stopped, Tony took the chance to adjust his hold on Reeve, hand lingering over his collar bone as though he was just pulling Reeve's shoulder closer where he could better measure his pulse to make sure they weren't in cardiac arrest territory from the strain he could see on Reeve's face.

"Definitely down, then?" he clarified, just to make sure Mini-C hadn't scampered up the wrong staircase and could just be laying somewhere in the street for them to find. That would be too easy. With another look around, Tony tried to guess which of these buildings looked like they would have a basement level, but this was not his expertise. "Is it one of these?"

"My pulse is fine," Reeve grumbles at the hand on his neck. The thing about putting pressure on the pulse points was that it made the person you were checking more aware of it too. "It's my head that is pounding with pain, not my heart.

The strain was something he could live with. And if not, he'd call back that which made Mini what he was.

"Definitely down. And... it was sudden, something fell on him or he could return. So not a basement. Look for..."

Reeve closes his eyes and falls back into the bond, and this time he does go a bit limp in Tony's arms. Damn that hurt.]

Hole. In the ground. Unstable at the edge. A... broken storm drain perhaps?

Tony didn't quite jerk his hand away for being called out, but did give an awkward pat to Reeve's cheek as though he could somehow obfuscate what he had been doing now and definitely planned to do that pat this whole time, for the moral support. The head and the heart were reliant on the same system, but fine, Tony wasn't worried about him, Reeve was clearly handling this well-- there he went again. Tony grit his teeth this time, starting to feel the sweat now, and chastised, "Knock that off! Hot and cold, remember, we were making it work. God, are you trying to punish yourself? Is it for not calling me? It's fine, I only cried once about it. Let's go, one foot in front of the other."

"I let him get hurt," Reeve counters. Tony may be dismissive of it, but Mini-C was alive. It didn't eat, it didn't grow, but it felt pain and joy and experienced things. And he was a living little creature that Reeve allowed to get hurt. So yes, he's punishing himself some.

"There," he says, pointing in the general direction of a side street. "We need to go that way."

And despite the pain he starts pulling himself up straighter and starting forward again, even if he has to drag Tony.

"You left me a fake number. How was I supposed to call you? As sweet as you were and as magical the night and as much as I longed to be in your arms again, Tony, without a number, how was I to tell you?"

There he went, Tony basically had to slow him down; they must have been getting closer. The burst of energy knocked out any argument Tony might have had over whether Reeve should be putting himself through pain because his brainless stuffed animal didn't know how to navigate dangerous terrain. That seemed like a deeper psychological issue.

"Is that what this is? You just wanted me to hold you? You know what, I appreciate the drama, that does it for me. If a guy isn't dying in the street for you, is he really that into you?" As they came three-legged limping up to the street Reeve had directed them to, Tony pulled Reeve back to take his time again, letting out a long breath at the state of the road here. One tower had sunk into a crack in the street that ripped it apart like a crosswalk into hell, making the building lean ominously over the block below it. "You're an architect, right? What's the diagnosis?" Tony breathed in awe.

"I always thought someone falling all over themselves for you was a bit overdone and trite. But what can I say, Tony? You bring out the best in me."

HE tries to calm his breathing, his throbbing head, a lot of other things. Thus it takes Tony's asking him to draw Reeve's attention to the structure. Tony may be awed by it, but Reeve winces.

"Likely, instability of some sub-surface structure, possibly worsened by our most recent storm. Cracks in structure leading to water seeping into underlying soil and possible aquifer, given how much surface water we have around here. But... If I may?"

He pulls away from Tony just enough to free up both of his hands, forming an L with one hand to line up with the structure and running some really quick mental math. What he comes back with he doesn't much like.

"I believe the structure should be at an equilibrium right now. Safe enough to walk around. However any significant increased weight above, approximately, the tenth floor could seriously alter the balance point. No one that doesn't fly should go into the building, and if we attempt to salvage things from it, it should be started at the top and work toward the center. That being said..."

His eyes can the base and nods toward the crosswalk.

"Over there. Some of the edges of the material of the roads looks fresher, not very weathered or dirty. Which means a recent fall, probably no more than a week old. Which gives a possible point for it to have fallen under Mini. We'll want to exercise extreme caution approaching the area. Give me a few feet to get closer, see if I can reach him without pain to show him this place and see if it's where he fell. If so, we can find someone who flies to assist with recovery."

When a serious problem is put down before him, the pain is a lot easier to discard. Or, really, ignore.

"Uh. Noted," Tony muttered to the salvaging operation advice. That severely limited their options, but it wasn't like they had plenty of buildings to stripmine before they had to deal with the unique problem of this one. That someone with flying abilities also might have been their solution to the immediate problem was deeply frustrating, enough to set Tony's teeth on edge and insist, "We'll see, Sherlock," and starting them off maybe a little too fast, heading for the area that Reeve had detective-ed out. He wasn't completely useless because he couldn't fly. It was just the worst possible state to be in, thank you for noticing. Tony would let Reeve direct them still, if he could keep up, relying on his observation of the ground structure now to keep them from falling down into whatever sinkhole had trapped Mini-C. It wouldn't be any help to the creature if they were all in the pit.

"I don't want you hurt for him," Reeve says, his voice soft and annoyed, but he will keep moving with Tony. The more they move, the more certain he is that Mini-C is nearby.

"Stop. I don't... If you're going any further forward, it should be without my added weight and clumsiness. I only put you at greater risk."

Reeve barely had his reason out before Tony was abandoning him, not taking well to 'stop' and slipping away from Reeve to pace a few restless steps in front to try to get a better look at the crack in the ground before swinging back, hands flexing. "Okay, okay," he was mouthing as he turned, gaze darting to find a good place to deposit Reeve for the time being as he came back to collect him. Tony was not waiting for permission this time to take his weight over a shoulder and guide him to what had once been a smooth, sloping brace at the foot of a building, one of a pair flanking a long since demolished doorway where Reeve might get to distract himself with the possible Deco reference in the design. Tony didn't stick around to hear about it, stalking with purpose for the edge of Mini-C's trap.

Frankly, he doesn't mind being distracted by the form, very pleased to look at the designs.

But that's not the important thing right now. The important thing is Mini-C. And approaching the collapse, there is no doubt that the fall is recent. Mostly because there is, near the bottom of the crevasse, is a black and white form, pinned under a small chunk of asphalt. Not his fault he can't get out. The thing probably weighs less than a pound, but being just a doll, he can't get out.

But the little thing notices Tony, his free arm waves.

Tony had to squint, and hope that movement he saw down there wasn't whatever passed for a rat on this planet. Or a cockroach. That had to be a uniquely Earth problem, there was no way cockroaches had been allowed to evolve anywhere else and Tony wasn't going to think about it anymore. He shivered, then peered up along the crevice, searching for the easiest way down. Some feet along, most of the road had collapsed into the hole, creating a fairly even slope into the depth of it-- a controlled fall, Tony was aware, but wasn't all downward motion?

From across the road, Tony slinked toward the leaning building, slowly lowering himself to a crouch as he went to put a hand to the ground then vault, disappearing over the edge. A cloud of dust was thrown up behind him as the roll of broken asphalt tumbling down the slope he had found, its integrity already tenuous without Tony's weight, echoed in the empty street.

Scraped and thoroughly soiled, he appeared again to Mini-C as he picked his way through the carnage of the pit, climbing up the mound of the collapse that the animal had caused. "Hey, troublemaker," he greeted breathlessly, glad to find his cockroach worries unfounded (so far. It was dark down here. Better not linger). Slouching down onto his knees, he carefully lifted the debris off of Mini-C, not sure what he should be touching. It was cotton all the way down, but the way it moved could have suggested a back injury was possible. Tony hated magic. "Are you..." he tried, and the only word he had didn't seem quite right, "hurt? Can you get hurt?"

Could he get hurt? No. Not really. Just maimed. Once he's free, though, the little doll waves eagerly at Tony. Freedom is very appreciated, and the coll pushes to his feet. Once it looks around it wilts a bit. The way Tony came down was way too difficult for him to scramble back up.

So Mini-C looks up at Tony and bounces, waving its arms. Help please.

Still very nimble, a good sign, if that could mean anything in this situation. The problem was, the way Tony had come down was way too difficult for both of them to scramble back up; the displacement Tony had caused was still sending rocks and dirt rolling down deeper, where Tony could hear some pebbles make a distinct splash. That was a risky route. "Yeah, yeah, we're going," he still promised to Mini-C's urgent little waves, taking the little guy with him cradled in one arm as he carefully got back to his feet, other hand out and trying to be very steady to not disturb anything else further. It wasn't going to be an unbearable height to climb, but it was a steep one, and Tony hadn't been climbing in some time. "Hey, uh. Reeve. You can hear me, right?" he asked the doll. "Does any part of this look like it's not going to crumble under me?"

Smart play, Tony. Very smart play. With Mini this much closer, it's easier for Reeve to dip into Mini-C's mind and senses. And instead of a nervously shaking doll in Tony's arms, there's a change. Nothing physical, not really. Just... poise perhaps. Mini stills and looks around, it's little head moving back and forth around them very slowly, trying to take in possible options. And at last it raises a hand for a nearby outcropping to fallen material that Reeve has deemed the most stable.

"I am trusting you, my stuffed friend. This is both of our lives if you're playing me, I promise, if I go down you're coming with me," Tony was muttering as he made his way in that direction. "Don't tell your dad that. I've got a pretty good throw, watch yourself." The climb didn't look impossible, but Tony still hesitated, watching a cloud of dust sigh out of slouching crack in the wall he faced. Very stable. "And don't wiggle too much," he advised Mini-C as he tucked the animal into the collar of his shirt to free his hands.

It was tedious minutes, Tony checking in with Mini-C when he wasn't sure if he could trust a hold, until Tony's head appeared above the road again. He didn't want to find out what would happen if he put too much weight at the edge of this pit and trench crawled his way forward until he could scrabble his knees up onto the asphalt, and rolled onto his back in the dirt, arms splayed and feet still dangling in the hole. "Reeve," he said to the doll again, "You've got to do some hardware updates, this is not the environment for a Beanie Baby. Beanie Preteen, at least."

Mini-C doesn't even seem offended by the suggestion, just very focused on his duty as a guide. Which makes sense, because it's not Mini-C that is in control of himself. But, when the two end up a the top again, there is a voice other than Tony's own for him to deal with.

Surely other voices are good from time to time.

"I would quite prefer to give him a full robotic body, covered with a suitable external appearance," Reeve calls from where he is, clearly having heard Tony. "And may I say, I don't think I'd appreciate it if you had thrown my freshly rescued Mini when it was myself giving you directions, not him."

Tony rolled his head back where he lay so he could spot Reeve, upside down, where he had left him, and called back, "In my defense, I thought he could choose what he told you. I didn't think it was an open channel thing." This wasn't the most comfortable position for conversation, so Tony gathered his strength to roll over again and up onto his feet. Mini-C wasn't moving very fast, so Tony liberated him from his collar in time to hand over as he approached Reeve, then crouched to sit on his heels and recharge again next to the stone slab. "You enjoyed the ride, at least," Tony presumed for him.

"I can control him, overriding what he is and does, if I wish," Reeve admits, and he sounds a bit... less than pleased. "But given what you had asked when I was listening in, and the complexity of the question..."

He takes Mini-C when the doll was offered over and smiles.

"He's grateful for your help, Tony. He... knows what would have happened if I could not recover him."

Sure, he could re-inspire, but... the lack of that would be better for them both.

That sounded dark, but Tony didn't have enough of the pieces to confidently put it together and wiggled his fingers against the lack of traction he had to figure it out. Based on the state of Reeve just from the separation, Tony had to guess that he was using Mini-C to talk around the pain he could have been in and Tony didn't know how to be as delicate. "You told me it was just a headache, asshole, what was I supposed to do if you died on me? I'd be suspect number one, no one would believe the whole, the stuffed animal got him story. Do you think this place is ready for that, a murder mystery?"

Died on him? Reeve stares at Tony in shock. And perhaps a touch of open horror. Even Mini-C seems distressed by Tony's assertion.

"Nothing like that, Tony. Not at all. At least I do not believe there would be feedback that bad. No, I..."

The man sighs and touches the top of Mini-C's head to comfort himself.

"I would have to have broken his spell, reconsumed that which I gave him. Effectively, it would have been killing him. Yes, I could give his soul to him again, or something like him, but... Death is death, and for him, it would be a possible ceasing."

Tony squinted, hearing the words and definitely hearing the weight there, but struggling to marry them. "So, just to be clear, there was no reason for either of us to go through any of that," he said. "You can just make another one." That was cold, Tony already knew that based on the way Reeve was fawning over Mini-C, so he spread both hands in surrender before Reeve had to be the one to say it. "All I'm saying," he backtracked, "is that you're supposed to have a partner when you're doing the really kinky shit-- a real one, with a spine, and thumbs-- to watch your back and make sure no one has to put out an embarrassing 911 call. You know, I could have just gone for a jog with him."

Can just make... Okay, Reeve narrows his eyes at Tony. That's not something that he can so easily dismiss.

"Death is death, Tony Stark. And while I do wish to upgrade him to have a spine and thumbs, I had no reason to believe he would need a chaperone. The pain was unexpected."

But he will make use of someone in the future to assist their explorations.

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