revivalproject

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dive

WHO: Tony and Catra
WHERE: The factory (Orange 16)
WHAT: Meanwhile, where Tony's been.
WHEN: Also a little while after Jon's disappearance
WARNINGS: Tony's in a dark place, suicidal tendencies up to 11.

This Iron Man wasn't designed for space; Tony didn't have the means or materials and doubted he even had the battery power, but space, he reasoned, he could deal with. The nanoweb could hold the line for a few precious minutes, and then it was really a battle against time. If it cost Tony a limb or an organ, that would something for him to fix later. Right now, the problem was getting to the Agrii ship, because it was clear that they were not capable of properly comprehending the incredibly nuanced request that Tony blasted at them, nor could they be trusted to manage their own Handy He Row Generator and could use the technical expertise.

When the air thinned, Tony hardly noticed, his heart already vibrating against his ribcage and head swimming, vision narrowing by the time he reached the stratosphere and a bit of a journey ahead of him yet. He didn't waste the precious oxygen lingering on tactical decisions, rocketing through miles in minutes, the armor the briefest wink of light as it caught the gleam of the sun as he took to the air, then rapidly disappearing into the clear sky and leaving behind only an echoing shudder of the sonic boom rattling the dust from the factory walls around the forge.

It was long minutes before another sound broke over the area, the faintest whistle of wind whipping through the metal cut with the occasional burst of jets that hissed then stuttered into powerless silence. The crack and crash through the roof of the long standing factory was quick and clean, the Iron Man breaking easily through wood and cement and torturing steel beams into contortions as he ripped them out of their foundations. It was the blast as he hit the floor that shook the ground, sending debris bursting out of the empty and broken windows and threatening to shake the walls into rubble, that bone rattling thunder travelled through the empty streets and skirted easily through already decrepit structures like a rolling wave of dust and a sigh of pain that lapped against the city's walls.

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"Yeah, you don't have brain damage do you?" Catra demanded, grabbing at his head like it was something she could see from the outside if she looked at it from the right angle.

Thankfully for Tony, she was quickly distracted with her new task, releasing his head to start working on tearing the armor away piece by piece.

The roll of Tony's eyes got a more honest grin from the Exo. He even chuckled at the suggestion that Catra was set to take anything out on him. "Hey, I'm not the one who dropped in on her. You probably shaved off five of her lives with that stunt. -careful with the goods there, Kit-Kat. Don't wanna accidentally snap his neck off."

Cayde let her take care of armor removal while he looked around for something that wasn't crushed to lie Tony on once he was extracted. He tipped over a long section of what might have been part of some kind of work table to knock off the dust and debris scattered across it before kicking apart its remaining struts so he could drag the slab over.

"Eugh, god--I do now," Tony complained as Cayde chastised Catra and her grip on Tony's head left him dazed enough again to squeeze his eyes shut as she worked him free of his coffin. "Now we have something in common." Cayde's rummaging around and the screeching complaint of metal that echoed through the empty factory were equally horrid assaults, so the moment Tony actually realized he had an arm free, he brought it up to his face to try to cover whatever orifice would save him from this torture. He couldn't quite fine the correct one. For this, he wanted to snipe at Cayde, too, but putting in the effort to sit himself up for the proper emphasis on his complaining only left him powerfully nauseous, like the floor had opened up below him and what came out was a far more inquisitive, "What are you even doing here?" That was the question that Tony meant to ask, but not exactly with that sentiment until he heard it out loud and realized he did kind of want to know the answer. To Catra, it had just been an objection, but she lived here.

"Kit-Kat?" she repeated, but she released his head.

The armor tore away piece by piece, but the effort was gradually wearing Catra down, breaking a sweat and panting as she pried another piece off. Her poor claws were going to be worn down to nothing.

There was a dull thud and crunch accompanied with a fresh puff of dust as Cayde released the slab once he was within a couple steps of the two. He walked around the other end to pick it up and move it parallel to Tony, dusting his hands off as he wandered back around by them.

"Here," he said, pulling out the large knife from his belt and offering it to Catra handle first to help with the prying. She'd been doing a good job with taking care of that armor but those mangled bits were going to be harder on her claws. Moving opposite of her, the Exo pulled another knife from his boot to work at some other bit of armor plating. "Saw some crazy message pop up on the comms, got me kind of concerned so I was doing some scouting," he said as he worked. "Was just out of the library when I saw a falling star."

Maybe Tony didn't want to know the answer that badly. He was slow to look away from Catra then, like he suddenly had to carefully watch her progress now that they were working his legs free, or maybe it was just the fact that she had a knife. That had just created a future tragedy that almost had Tony laughing at the inevitability of it. When his gaze did slide reluctantly toward Cayde, it was with a shamed apology, and some pleading not to make those apparently obvious connections for everyone else because he could see now that he maybe hadn't thought through this plan enough before enacting it and, really, he was experiencing his punishment already, wasn't he? He raised his arms in confident anticipation--which looked like he was reach for a hug, so he flexed his fingers, come on, to be pulled free from the last of the armor and out of the crater.

Ooh, a knife! Catra was happy to take the blade, and if Cayde wasn't careful he wouldn't be getting it back again. Having a task made it easier to push those feelings aside, concentrating hard on prying away each piece, those her ear was turned back to listen carefully to their conversation. The library? She frowned, and shifted back so Cayde could help him up.

If Catra wanted a knife so bad all she had to do was ask. Otherwise Cayde was definitely claiming it again- he kept very close tabs on his weapons. Maybe he could have been a bit more roundabout with an explanation, spin a yarn to get people's minds off of things. It'd be his usual route. This whole thing just shook him a little too close to home.

With the last of the encasing armor freed, the Exo spun his knife and tucked it back into his boot, tapping a finger in Catra's direction to make her aware that she's still got one of his on rental before he hops to his feet and looked at Tony's open arms.

"Oh, now you want a hug?" he said, and not without a grin as he rebounded, but he stepped forward to carefully grab a hold of the man to haul him out of his metal coffin.

"I couldn't deny you any longer," Tony grumbled back, without the energy he was hoping for as he closed his eyes again to stretch up onto his feet. He was not going to stay upright for very long, they hadn't quite reached that stage in this development project, but he probably didn't have to hang on around Cayde's neck for as long as he did to get steady enough to move, either. He wasn't going to give either of them the chance to comment on it, nudging Cayde suddenly to help him over to his inviting morgue slab so he could roll onto his stomach and press his face into the cool surface, arm hanging limply over the side of the table like he was immediately unconscious again.

She toyed with the blade, giving Cayde an innocent look. Like she was going to try and keep it...she was definitely going to try and keep it.

Catra payed close attention as Cayde helped him out, and then frowned at Tony's ultimate prone form.

"Is he dead again?"

The look Cayde gave her in return was something of an eyebrow raise and a half smirk. He left the matter at that, preparing to be one knife short but if the cat needed it more than he did, well he didn't mind it too much.

Cayde carefully brought Tony over to the makeshift gurney, which, to be fair was more of a morgue slab in this state, but at least it wasn't crushed ceiling and floor. A look of concern flitted across his metal features as the man lay there so still flopped out as he was, but the Exo looked over at Catra, snorting even as he faked a grin.

"Exhausted. You'd be too after all that. Got any bandages?"

"Only trying to be," Tony answered, muffled against the slab, though it might have come slower than he intended it and not sounded like it was an answer to anyone actually in the room. Catra didn't deserve that, he did realize just as belatedly; the aching tone of her voice and her streaked cheeks hadn't escaped him, and he took an agonizing breath to force one eye open and wave his dangling hand, dismissing the bandages and trying to coax Catra closer. "No one else is going today, Annie," he promised more softly. He wasn't in a great position to make sure that happened, but he wasn't going to be the one causing the problem, either.

Bandages? Catra looked pointedly about the factory. She'd dragged in a few trinkets in her time her, but medical supplies hadn't been on her list.

"...I have sheets? Would that work>" she asked, before giving Tony a quizzical look, "...Who the hell is Annie? He does have brain damage."

Edited 2021-05-09 11:05 (UTC)

Nah, he was just causing other problems. Cayde shrugged, having even less of a clue as to who Annie was and not particularly arguing Catra's conclusion. Instead, he focuses on the initial question. "If you don't mind shredding them up," he said. "I'll find you some new ones later," he promised.

The way he figured, it was easier keeping busy than thinking about the things that had happened. Not that there wasn't genuine concern about Tony's health. Had he any internal damage? Broken bones? Sundance could only scan for so much and Tony's suit hadn't exactly been in the best of states to be helpful in providing any specific status reports.

"Should we go grab a doc, chief?" Who even was handling the hospital anymore? Still Billy?

It wasn't a particularly helpful answer, but as Cayde was organizing the sheet-shredding Tony muttered, "...get your gun..." Which he did recognize sounded like it would be a request of either one of these two, and not much in defence of his functional brain. To better make his point, he shakily sang, "Anything you can do, I can do better..." and would have laughed if that didn't make him cough and wince.

That did put him in a particularly perilous position to insist, "No leave him alone, he'll just...make a voodoo doll of me and say a prayer, nobody there does medicine anymore." Christ, this revelation was just getting worse, Tony was not about to trust anyone else to yell at him about his health. "It looks way worse than it is, I promise, won't even remeber it happened in the morning," he groaned as he tried to make his escape, giving up the cool support of the slab.

"Okay," Catra agreed, "Make sure he doesn't die," she instructed, frowning at his babbling that she didn't understand and hurrying off to go fetch the sheets.

It was a bit of a jaunt to cross to the other end of the factory and back, leaving the two with some alone time.

"No one's dying on my watch," Cayde replied, aiming to make that as much of a promise as the sheets as he nodded at Catra before she went off. As though he didn't notice Tony's attempted movement, he sat himself at the edge of the slab as they waited.

"...Ghosts can't fix people aside from their Guardians," he said as he fiddled with his knife, studying the blade. He'd probably have to resharpen this one after wedging it between metal plates. "And obviously I'm no doctor and neither is Catra, so if you don't let us know if there might be some real damage there, somewhere- well I doubt the kid'd attempt an operation at least."

Watching Catra go with some longing, both sure she would have left him to die in peace if he made enough of a nuisance of himself and guilty about her stained cheeks, Tony ended up pushed up with one foot on the ground, other knee still bent on the table where he leaned over it on his hand with an arm wrapped gingerly around his ribs. He was slow to look Cayde's way, keeping his gaze low, and slower to produce a shrug, tipping his head slightly to expose the pressure welt rubbed into his neck where he drew the nanoweb down like a viscous spill of golden oil, then back up to cover the growing bruise and smooth over it like a layer of new skin. "I can take care of it," he muttered, "just takes a little longer." Extremis hadn't been working particularly efficiently since he arrived here, but it didn't feel like anything was broken or fatally compromised. As far as Tony could be relied upon to properly estimate, anyway.

Not that it really mattered, and if Tony had any control over it he'd rather be nursing the bruises than the ragged tear in his chest. He tried for a deep breath to admit, down at his fist curled on the table and his voice tight, "I don't know what to do." He should have been prepared for this after Steve left, and instead all he had to show for his effort was the twisted scrap of what used to be Iron Man.

Cayde nodded, hoping they weren't empty words, but also knowing it didn't sit well with him to just leave it at that. And it would be a shame to have had Catra go off for nothing, so he was convinced that while things would take a while, there wasn't any harm in helping make sure nothing ended up worse for lack of effort.

Unfortunately he hadn't any better responses when he heard that admission. He wasn't sure what sort of metal guts he had, knowing there was no stomach there yet unable to help for the sensation that a lead weight had settled in it. The glowing blue of his optics shuttered into darkness as he closed his eyes, sighing a breathless sigh, his shoulders sinking with it. "Wish I had some suggestions," he murmured. He thought he should have been more prepared for the possibility, but obviously he hadn't put much effort into considering, relying too much in a baseless hope that maybe just maybe...

The Exo shook his head. "I could tell you all the cliche think-positives but it wouldn't change anything, would it? So right now, just get better. For the kitten, for me- and then once you're good to go we'll both go tell off the Agrii and whoever else is listening, show 'em they can't just swap people in and out like game pieces."

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