st_arkravinghazelnut

I appreciate you telling me. I'll see you soon.

Tony stared at the words he'd written to Liz as he sat hunched over his journal. The breeze coming from the window by the bed he'd welcomed was too cold, now.

Peter went home.

Where was home? Right. New York. When was the last time he'd even seen New York--oh. A year to the date. Seriously? A year ago and a flight test gone awry, and now he was in a honeymoon cabin down on a lake while Peter...went home. Gone. If his brain were less blank, he'd have immediately made some conclusions with the timing of it all.

Spring was here--there was no doubt about that. Tony, in his age, had grown susceptible to chilly weather but he had his limits. Blessedly, the weather in the alternate dimensional San Luis Obispo grew hot but not overly humid. Even excepting the fact Tony's nanoparticle clothing could buffer against most weather conditions, Peter had been in the habit of borrowing the arc reactor with some regularity to convene with the AIs within, forcing Tony into the miserable position of having to weather regular clothes.

There was a better way of letting the boy spend time with his friends. He just had to get off his ass and make one.

The thoughts of the heat turned to thoughts of the tall figure lounging beside him on the glossy stool and instead of resuming his current task (what to have for lunch), unspoken questions were written on his face as he stared sideways at Loki.

"It's a cuisine thing." Tony concluded apropos of nothing as he poured over the daily menu drawn in chalk mounted proudly a few feet away.

"In all seriousness, how much were they paying you?" Tony suddenly piped up from his spot above Steve Rogers, swinging lazily in the hammock he made his resting spot. Their back-and-forth lead to a spur of the moment encounter in the hotel parking lot that lead exactly nowhere when Tony insisted on having a beverage break before the action. One thing had lead to another, and he was lounging around the pool with a margarita while Steve sat adjacent.

God bless poolside bars and California.

"You know what I'm talking about. The PSA's. They did pay you, right? You were always on about Brooklyn rent. You do remember how many times I offered you room and board, right?" In classic Tony Stark fashion, rambling on with a tequila quick. "I'd have swept you up the moment I knew you were having to go into showbiz just to get by."

As lively as he felt these days, it felt right to give his beloved a lively greeting. A little light show from above to get his attention and a rapid descent to join his side. He wasn’t one to be completely outdone when it sounded as if Thor had something special in mind.

“Don’t keep me in suspense.” Before he could descend completely, he positioned himself to sit on the massive man’s shoulder.

All the remaining souls on Titan were not dead, but they were not the victors. Thanos was on a crash course with earth, and the Avengers and Guardians alike were left with nothing else to do than collect themselves in the fallout of their loss. Those able to walk helped those that couldn't, gathering towards each other listlessly. Tony winced as Peter helped him to his feet, cradling his gut protectively, but some part of him still trying not to look too wounded in front of the boy. Peter's was bracing him and trying to catch his eyes with his, but Tony didn't meet them.

"Something's happening." The alien-woman's spoke up, hushed and afraid. Tony began to move towards her, and then she disappeared on the wind. Tony staggered a step back, the sight dream-like. Unreal.

"Quill?" The hulking figure was reduced to ash, as if he were made of paper that someone had taken a match to. Quill could only watch his companions vanish without a trace, shock and despair twisting his face.

"Steady, Quill." Tony's attempts to comfort the man were hollow. Soon, Quill was following his friends.

"Tony." Strange's voice managed to break through his stupor. "There was no other way."

Then, he too, was gone.

The moment his fiancé entered with a plate that reeked of sharp cheddar and spiced meats, it was all Tony could do to hold himself back from darting out from under the red couch and consummating his demands. He still had his superego past all the screaming canine id.

“For me?” His suit sounded off as it welcomed Thor in in his own voice.

What brought Tony Stark up to the roof was the well-developed model of Peter Parker's little quirks he carried with him in his head--his Fatherly Sense, simply put. Whenever the teen wanted to put distance between himself and the rest of the world, it was at the highest ground he could reach.

Tony's sole propulsors 'wooshed' softly as he lowered to stand, his armor fleeing to leave him in a simple coat. All the snow from earlier in the month had long since gone, leaving the mild California nights. In the center of the roof laid Peter, catching filtered moonlight.

"Hey." Peter was awake. Tony only had to take one look at him to know.

It had been a few days since Tony's littler ones (as he casually called them in his head) had coalesced. He'd have been lying if he said the next steps approach hadn't been all he'd thought of since then. It was enough to completely side track him from his all-encompassing research, and 'Thanos' had barely featured in his brain. If he'd actually stopped to ponder it, he may not have believed it himself.

'Fixating is what creates all your interpersonal issues to begin with, Stark.' He rolled his eyes at himself as his knuckles gently rapped on Annie's door. He'd made a point of checking in on her every day. Some days she'd been there, some she hadn't.

"Knock knock."

Madonna Inn or no, Tony was making good on his commitment to seek therapy. Or, in this case, facilitate it.

Every part of him was anxious, but he had some chamomile tea beforehand and prayed that the beta blockers were working their magic. And, of course, none of that showed on his face. To the world, he was the picture of cool. But all the adrenergic response inhibitors couldn't scrub the deep seated unsettled feeling that plagued him. It was almost existential. What caring god would decide that Tony Stark was the only adult around both informed and caring enough to round up some teenagers and a child for a mediated counseling session? Who was allowing this?

Alright. Deep breath. The young trio were seated around in his room. It was the most neutral, private setting he could think of. All of his clutter was pushed back into the bed area and arranged somewhat professionally. The drawing boards were covered with his spare sheets to reduce the amount of distraction and preserve the privacy of his work. Liz and Annie were seated on either side of Peter on the red sofa, and Tony was seated himself on the beige plush bench across from them, pulled in closer to provide some sense of intimacy. The candles already there provided some soft, warm lighting though Tony really was at a loss with the rocky interior. He'd grown desensitized to them but once he had to meditate over how it'd lend itself to a collective emotional breakthrough the damn walls just taunted him all over again. Tony told himself that if he ignored them, so would everyone else. Hopefully.

Alright. Go time. Tony pitied the universe where he was a social worker but many of the concepts and skills involved were translatable from his past life as a business man. Set goals and expectations. Identify and meet the needs. Strategize.

"Alright." Tony leaned back on the bench. "Before we all start talking, I think it'd be helpful if we all went around in a circle and expressed what we're hoping to get out of today. What we want to understand, what we want to change, what we want others to know."