revivalproject

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[The message posted is a very brief one, and for anyone who has seen Reeve before, definitely not in character. The man looks to be in no small amount of pain, his head in one hand, his teeth grit, tears stinging at the corners of his eyes. Even when he speaks, his voice is clearly gasped out through pain.]

Has anyone... seen a little black and white

[His voice breaks as he curls up just a bit and clearly the image gets too close and a lot of his hair because his hand holding the phone has gone to his head too. And then after a moment of labored breathing the communicator is lowered back to where Reeve can be seen. But not centered now. Sorry, he's not looking closely.]

Cat. Stuffed animal. About six inches tall, responds to 'Mini-C'. At least twenty meters from the main fountain. Probably further away.

[Another flash of pain across the man's face.]

Please, if you've seen him, bring him to me.

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"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.

"No reason to--?" Tony glared, willing to accept that maybe Reeve had overestimated his capabilities here, they were all still getting their footing, but that didn't make for a reasonable argument. He stretched up to his feet, hoping the height and angle would force a different perspective on Reeve. "My beard clippings weigh more than him and you sent him on his own to scout a city with more holes than a gal dating a tattoo artist to work through her daddy issues. Were you going to climb down there?" Tony gestured to the crumbling crevasse, which rumbled ominously as the displaced weight settled as though to prove Tony's point. "Not for nothing, but you don't look like you're regularly getting your nails dirty. Go ahead, say 'death is death' to me again, let's see if it sticks this time." Those two ideas were lacking a hefty logical bridge. It wasn't fair that Reeve could be both that precious and that reckless with his security blanket when Tony had just stopped his own heart to destroy and entire armory, only to show up here without a single one of them and have to hear how useful someone who could fly would be.

Okay, maybe this wasn't about Reeve. But Tony folded his arms over his chest, stubbornly frowning-- that didn't make his logic any better.

Interesting approach, Tony. But Reeve doesn't stop feeling annoyed.

"Your hyperbole is heard, but ignored. And were I not in pain, yes. I've been into far worse places, Tony. There is also the fact that if the pain hadn't been enough for me not to know where he was, I would have brought supplies for it. Regardless of your opinion, I'm a capable man."

And intelligent. More than enough so to not be at all moved by Tony's attempt to be dismissive of Reeve's experiences. After all, he had plenty of dirt under his nails.

"Lives matter, Tony, whether granted by magic or by birth. To end his when I might be able to find him would have been wrong, and to take even his casually is something I do not wish to do. There is value in all forms of life."

If Tony's expression was anything to go by, it did not stick. He drummed his fingers restlessly against his bicep, looking unreasonably defensive until he dropped both arms in exasperation and growled, "I hate magic." Of course it wasn't logical, that was a feature, not a flaw. That Tony wanted to punch something now was just magic's natural cost.

"What's happening now, what's the situation? Are you capable of standing up?" he asked. Tony might have been irritated, but that wasn't reason enough to abandon Reeve in the bad neighbourhood.

"Be that as it may, I work with magic, and would ask you to attempt to extend some degree of understanding, Tony. This is who I am, how I was born, and in my world, what I would have been hunted and experimented on for."

Which would have been horrid.

But that wasn't here or there, not anymore. Instead Reeve puts to his feet and while he looks so very tired, he's managing well enough.

"I'm sorry it is awkward for you."

That finally made Tony's shoulders sink, the tension that had hitched them up, and sent him searching for the right brick wall to punch back since Reeve had suggested his recovery plan, unwinding down into sheepishness. Reeve had offered this part of himself so easily on their first meeting that Tony had to assume it hadn't ever been something he would think to hide, like Reeve had made it seem like his sexuality had never been a problem for him. It hadn't occurred to Tony that he was just stronger than hiding.

"Sorry, I didn't...know," was a weak defense for being bigoted, but it was the one Tony had. "I don't hate you," he clarified, which was a dangerously positive statement, so with just a small hitch Tony finished, "old man." He slid cautiously closer, hands spread to offer any support Reeve wanted to take here.

"Of course you didn't. I didn't tell you it," Reeve answers, and he doesn't hold back the chuckle of faint amusement. "And if you hated me, Tony, you would not be so eager to have me once more in your very lovely arms."

Tony, don't get that upset by it. Just expect that Reeve was not going to accept the close-minded behavior. That said, he does offer his arm, in case Tony is willing to give it.

"Frankly, I'm an adult that has survived as long as I have without someone lecturing me. In fact, in a far worse world, as this place doesn't even seem to have dragons. Or any of the things around the village that liked to try and kill us. And our blacksmith there, a man named Anthony Stark, he wouldn't even make anyone guns."

Not that Reeve ever MET the Tony Stark there, their overlap in presence was only a few months and Reeve had never had a reason to use the blacksmith. To him it was merely an amusing coincidence that had mostly slipped his mind.

No one should have had to tell Tony to stop being an asshole, but three decades in he was still doing it and clearly wasn't course correcting without a lot of input. At least Reeve wasn't taking it too personally, and Tony gladly indulged in the acceptance of his peace offering, taking Reeve's hand to bow under his shoulder again then bring Reeve's knuckles to his lips in thanks. He only released the arm he had pulled over his shoulder when Reeve dropped that bomb on him, the question that had left Tony with inarticulable at first, and instead expressed in a spastic gesture of his freed hand.

"Smart man, sounds impossibly handsome," he had to acknowledge before getting any clarity on this information Reeve had been holding back from him. The 'village' and 'blacksmith' were really throwing him off, sure that Reeve had a much more advanced, urban background, so it was difficult to even approach the concept of his alternate self that Reeve knew. "There has to be a Tony Stark living in blissful peace in a dimension without dragons. Honestly, this is devastating news. Does that mean I have one of you?" It had to, but it really felt like they would have traveled in the same circles, he couldn't have just missed a Reeve from Earth.

"You're going to charm your way into trouble some day soon, Tony, mark my words," Reeve chuckles when Tony pulls out that little show there. Luckily, Reeve's learned not to take it seriously.

"I understand he was smart, but I never met him to say whether he was handsome or not. But it seems you just associate the name with intelligence and appearance. Perhaps you're more narcissistic than anything else. Which is not always a bad thing."

He didn't know that Tony, it hadn't lined up. Instead Reeve had been adopted by a variety of young women who had seen very fit to make sure Reeve didn't get himself into trouble.

"I cannot say about myself and your world, Tony. Earth, as I've heard of it, means nothing to me. Gaia is my home. I'd say it was all I knew, but it's not. Perhaps I should tell you of the Village I came through on the way here. The experiences I had there. It is not unlike this, except I felt there that we were being studied."

Reeve wasn't the first person to comment on Tony's narcissism, but no one had accused that trait of outweighing the other two so coldly then followed it up with 'not always a bad thing'. It made Tony snort a laugh, failing at keeping a straight face as he attempted a knowing nod, accepting this judgement.

"The shoe thing!" There had been plenty of details about their conversation on Risa that Tony had meant to follow up on, only to immediately replace them with curiosity about the weather control systems on the planet, leaving him with only fragments. That explained the disconnect of the 'village', anyway, but Tony wasn't sure what had made that connection to 'shoes' for him. "You said something about shoes," he declared, as though that cleared anything up. He was trying, he could listen.

The shoe thing indeed. Reeve can't help but laugh at the very fact that this was the salient detail that Tony connected to his brief discussions about the time he had spent in the village.

"Indeed I did. While we were there, there was an... incident, in the night. Not even the only one. One minute one is home and occupied with sleep or work or something else, the next one is on the top of a mountain, grouped together with others, watching their memories like a movie in the big screen theater of your mind. Only when it was over, we were left in the state we had arrived in. Some members of my party had been sleeping. Pajamas and no slippers. To make a three day journey back to the Villages."

Even Reeve had been expected to help carry some of the young women of his party, given their barefoot status."

Why seemed like an obvious question-- that sounded like a humiliating thing to put a group of people through together for not obvious purpose, but maybe there wasn't going to be a helpful answer to that question. The Agrii had plucked Tony from peacefully sleeping to throw him onto Risa, no slippers, and that why, which would have been directly useful information, hadn't been satisfactorily answered yet, either.

"All of your memories, the whole mess?" Tony asked instead, horrified. "In front of people?" That was cruel enough without the trek back.

"One apiece. None of the ones I saw were anything but painful," Reeve corrects. His own... was a guilt he had learned to live with. Even if he had never wanted to.

The whole plate had...

But that didn't matter, and Reeve tried to tell himself that by starting to move forward, hoping Tony would join him. Otherwise he might well fall and drag Tony over with him.

"Many people were hurt up there, their secrets laid bare."

Though Tony slid a curious, sidelong look Reeve's way, he had said enough to tell Tony it wasn't something he was interested in reliving again just to satisfy Tony; he already had in on display for enough people. It left Tony with an abstract horror crawling up his spine, though, and wondering what memories could possibly be pulled out of him to squirm under while an audience judged him. He'd take the apocalypse, thanks. "How did you get out of there?" he asked gently as they shuffled their way along the abandoned street.

Quite correct. There are some sins that should not be shared the first time. Or the tenth. And as it were, Reeve didn't know that he knew Tony well enough to speak those secrets yet.

"Get out? Not by choice or any action of my own. The place finished with me. I was to return home, I think. Instead..."

His free hand moved to encompass all around them in a gesture.

"Instead I am here. Kidnapped once and taken from my work. Kidnapped again. Each time set to building and rebuilding. Perhaps I am cursed."

That wasn't reassuring. It would have been nice to have some kind of indication that there was a way to trigger an end to this, if there was any way to connect the two occurrences outside of Reeve's presence. That had to mean something, though, and Tony's first instinct wouldn't have been cursed. "Or," he proposed, "one of these guys got hold of your business card, and you're just a victim of your own talents, the momentum is out of your hands. You're a star, sweetheart."

A star. Reeve laughs at that as he keeps them moving forward. As long as he walks, he knows Tony will keep up. The man is, if nothing else, stubborn. Something Reeve can appreciate.

"I abandoned my business cards a while ago. But being a star was never my desire. If I was going to be a star I'd rather it be in someone's eyes rather than the whole of a race."

In a tone that could have been touched adoration, Tony went, "Aw. You just said that out loud." The tone was definitely pity. That was another expression that Tony couldn't maintain for long, cracking up at himself and reaching for the hand draped over his shoulder again for an affectionate squeeze despite his abrasiveness. "You're going to have to lower your standards for that, you know, some of us can't help that our dick is intimidating. Everyone has flaws, can't you see we're suffering?"

Nope, now he has to laugh, which just makes the lingering headache worse. Tony, have pity on a man who is already in pain.

"My standards aren't exactly unreasonable. However, I doubt you would be able to intimidate me. You're not the Iron Bull. For you, I fear, it would probably be a matter of 'how you use it'."

Tony's laugh was carelessly loud and surprised, not prepared for Reeve to hit back that way while he still had to lean on Tony for support. "Shit, tell me how you really feel. It's because of the narcissism thing, isn't it? That tracks, logical conclusion, and I am going to cry myself to sleep tonight, thanks," he allowed brightly. "Okay, size queen, hit me with another one, what are you holding out for? I've got to get on the board somehow."

Who in the world ever said he was a size queen? Reeve was not that way in truth. But he felt like Tony need to understand just how much of a non competition this would be with Bull.

"My dear, don't attempt to compare yourself. The Iron Bull is more then seven foot tall if he's an inch. And... well endowed even for his proportions. And I did not go calling more than the one time. I likely could have hurt myself," he shrugs. Or he would do so were he not so in possession of a Tony Stark tucked under his arm.

Still, he's amused by the conversation. Perhaps it's just something Tony does to feel in control of the world, making light of such sexual situations.

"I hold out for nothing because I do not particularly seek anything. Beyond that, I hardly expect your playful conversation is anything more than that."

Also known as 'talk is cheap'.

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