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sobeautifullyobsessed · 22 days

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'It's Not the Years, Honey - It's the Mileage'

a Whumped Doctor Strange one-shot

Inspired by a couple of pre Multiverse of Madness articles comparing Stephen Strange to Indiana Jones😉😁

genre: whump, hurt/comfort, light humor

rating: general audience

characters: Stephen Strange, Tess O'Neill (Healer of Kamar-Taj, OFC); established relationship; Cloak of Levitation

word count: 1.9k

It was supposed to have been date night, but Stephen was overdue. Three hours overdue. Again. Tess had taken these things in stride, right from the start. After all, you can’t be lucky enough to be the significant other of the Sorcerer Supreme without being incredibly patient, understanding, and flexible. Besides which, he was always so adorable when he finally found his way home, sincere in his apologies, and more often than not, presenting her with a fresh bouquet, which he managed to conjure even before he uttered a single word. Tonight’s transgression was bound to be a two dozen roses mea culpa--and she just knew he’d make them her favorite: pale pink American Beauties.

Not that he ever needed to. His company was dear enough recompense for any time he kept her waiting. Except for the worrying, of course, but Tess had quickly adjusted to that, and so far she hadn’t made any complaint, no matter how late her Stephen managed to show up. She’d rather spend their precious time on more pleasant pursuits--and on showing him however she could, how happy he made her simply by being...him.

And so, Tess had adjusted down their plans. First, from dinner out and a movie, to take-out and the latest blu-ray release. And then from that, to something she could whip up, quick and easy, in the Sanctum’s smaller kitchen. Stephen was bound to be hungry when he arrived, and she had a hearty pot of stew simmering on the stove and a batch of honey cornbread ready to pop into the oven while he cleaned up.

Tess had just given the stew another stir, when she felt a tapping on her shoulder. She turned to find Cloak looking battle singed and...well...harried. How this being without a face could express such a wide range of emotions was a continual wonder to her--but right now her immediate reaction was to ask if Stephen was alright.

Cloak’s collar shook a clear ‘no’, and then it tugged at her arm, to get her moving. She turned off the stove and moved the stewpot to another burner, and followed Cloak down the grand staircase. And there sat Stephen on the third step, head bowed and shoulders hunched, his bloodstained tunic rent in several places. Tess’s heart leapt to her throat, though she tried to remain calm, realizing that he needed her as a Healer tonight, far more than as the woman who loved him.

She dropped to one knee in front of him, noting that the shelf of his jaw bore a dark bruise, and that he had a nasty cut across the bridge of his nose, a black eye and a split lip. “Hey,” she said softly, reaching her sure hands towards him, studying his wounds with practiced eyes, evaluating which she should address first. Thankfully, the blood on his clothing was dried, so that Tess concluded he wasn’t actively bleeding. “What happened,” she asked quietly, concerned to see him breathe shallowly, as breathing any deeper appeared to make him wince.

“You don’t wanna know,” he muttered, as she placed both of her palms on his chest and closed her eyes, searching for any internal damage.

“Ow...ow...ow...owwwwwwww,” he grumbled, “Is this really necessary?”

Cloak was flitting back and forth, giving the closest approximation of pacing as possible. “It certainly is, as well you know...Doctor.” To that he only grunted, then followed with a heavy groan when she palpated his lower ribs and abdomen. “Stephen,” she informed him patiently, “You’ve got at least three cracked ribs...”

“I know,” he replied curtly, “Don’t you think I know that?”

Tess tried to placate him. “Of course you do--but there’s no need to be pissy about it. It’ll just take a simple healing spell to start them knitting properly together.”

“I...know,” he repeated through gritted teeth, attempting to stand. Cloak had to swoop in to keep him from landing hard on his bottom.

Tess rose and wiped her hands on her denim capris. “Cloak, can you get him up to the infirmary, so I can take care of him properly?”

Cloak nodded, but Stephen had other ideas. “No infirmary--just get me to my room...”

Honestly, doctors really do make the worst patients, she thought, although she held her tongue, telling Stephen instead, “Nope. It’s the infirmary for you.” He huffed, but didn’t speak up. “And that’s Healer’s orders, Stephen. I outrank you in this, at least for the moment...”

“Yeah, yeah,” he grumbled dismissively. He handed her his sling ring, “We can portal there--it’ll be quicker and a less bumpy trip than relying on...” He wagged his head in Cloak’s direction.

Tess had to suppress a chuckle, as Cloak’s reaction to that perceived insult was to turn its back to Stephen. “Alright,” she sighed, slipping his ring on and bringing the golden circle to life. She returned to his side and offered him a hand to help him stand up. “Just lean on me, and we’ll be there in a jiffy.”

She could feel his aversion to appearing so needy, even as he braced himself with an arm across her shoulders, but knew well that it wasn’t on her account. Stephen generally disliked showing weakness to anyone, although as their relationship had blossomed, his trust in her had been enough for him to reveal much of what he hid from the world behind sarcasm and bravado. Tess had always taken such precious trust as both a privilege and an honor. Stiff lipped against his pain and leaning on her heavily, they hobbled through the portal and Tess led him to sit on the nearest bed.

The infirmary was empty but for them, and she took a moment to close the portal, and then rushed to gather her supplies. Disinfectant and a basin of warm water, along with a washcloth and the softest, fluffiest towel she could conjure, for after she got him cleaned up. And bandages. Lots and lots of bandages. Tess returned to Stephen’s side to find him struggling to remove his tunic. She set down her things, telling him, “Here...let me...”

“I’ve...got...this.” he grunted, though it was clearly hurting him to raise his arms above his head.

“No. No you don’t,” she corrected him gently, “Please--just let me do my job, Stephen.”

“Alright...alright...” He did his best to relax as she worked the garment over his head and off. Tess gasped at the network of contusions across his shoulders and upper chest. “Dammit, Tess...that hurts!”

“I know, darling. I know.” To her relief, most of his bruises appeared superficial. “Let’s start by getting you cleaned up, okay.” Stephen nooded, and closed his eyes as she washed the cut on his nose, and several shallow scratches on his cheeks and chin, finally seeing to the split on his lower lip.

Next, she addressed the wounds on his back, circling behind him and perching on the edge of the bed. She was relieved again to find that they were rather shallow as well, and made quick work of cleansing them. Tess chose that moment to speak to him as his woman, rather than as a Healer. “You know--you’re extremely fit for a man your age, darling. But it wouldn’t hurt to be a little more careful out there.”

“It’s not the years, honey...” he snorted, “...it’s the mileage...” Stephen had stiffened despite her gentle approach, but when she applied the disinfectant, he hissed out a string of very un-Stephen-like curses.

“Don’t be such a baby,” she muttered, her patience beginning to strain.

“I’m not,” he responded petulantly.

Coulda fooled me, she thought, but bit back that retort. A few minutes more and she had his wounds properly bandaged. Tess set aside the basin and the towel, telling him, “Now let’s see about those ribs. Do you think you can lay back? It’ll be easier that way.”

“Of course I can,” he barked, “I’m not an invalid, you know.”

No, you’re just the crankiest Master of the Mystic Arts that I've ever encountered. Bravest and most selfless too, so I suppose I can forgive your churlishness.

He winced when she placed her hands on his shoulders, helping to ease him onto his back. Closing her eyes again, she skimmed her hands above the skin covering his damaged ribs, whispering the charm needed to bolster his body’s natural healing ability. Satisfied that she had succeeded once she could feel the spell take root, Tess pulled her hands away and opened her eyes. Stephen’s were closed, and his face had gone slack with a look of relief. Good enough, she concluded, hoping he would sleep a long while to aid in healing.

Still, she thought she could do a little something to speed the reduction in the nastiest of his contusions--and it would be best to try while he was asleep. She reached tentative fingers to Stephen’s right shoulder. His eyes flew open with a start, “Owwwwww...that’s still tender, you know!”

“I’m just trying to help...”

“Well...I don’t need a nurse anymore,” he groused, “I just want to sleep.”

“If you let me see to these now, you’ll feel much better in the morning...” Tess trailed her fingertips along his jaw, channeling her own energy into relieving his pain. “Any better?”

"A little,” he pouted, “But it hurts...almost everywhere...”

There seemed to be no pleasing him this way--but still, it was her nature to try. Exasperated, she blurted out, “Well, dammit, Stephen--where doesn’t it hurt?”

Looking defiant, he showed her his elbow, “Here.” Tess laid the softest kiss she could upon it.

“And...and here,” he added, pointing to his forehead, his whole demeanor softening in response to her tenderness. Cautiously, Tess leaned in and planted a loving kiss there. Momentum had turned in her favor.

Stephen pointed to his un-blackened eye, “Um...here?”

Tess smiled softly, watching his eyes flutter shut, and then brushed her lips as lightly as she could upon his eyelid. There was a moment as her face hovered over his, and the look when he opened his eyes made her heart start to melt--for within their mercurial depths, she saw both gratitude and an apology for his childish behavior. Stephen tapped his lips and murmured, “Here.”

She wondered if he felt her indulgent smile as their lips finally met, but before too long their kiss had gone from chaste to something deeper and more enduring, as he relaxed completely under her loving ministration. When she finally pulled away, Tess found that her kiss had worked a magic of its own, and her beloved Stephen was out like a light.

Tess arose and draped the sheet across him lightly, then levitated the next bed over and landed it flush against his. Her hunch was that he’d sleep through the night, but she wanted to be close by if he should need her.

Come morning, she awoke to find him gone--can’t keep a good Sorcerer down for long, she mused--but in his place, he’d left three dozen pale pink American Beauties, and a small piece of handwritten parchment. It was brief but to the point:

Thank you, honey. For everything. Love - your Stephen xx

tagging: @hithertoundreamtof23 @stewardofningishzida @ironstrange1991 @mousedetective @aphroditesdilemma @icytrickster17 @groovyqueer @battledress @aelaer @mckiwi @couldntbedamned

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puhpandas · 6 months

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Rabbit Burrow

(3,785 words) Part 1 (part 2 found here)

Tony Becker, one year after surviving the attack from GGY, tracks down Gregory post-SB. But he has to get through Vanessa before he can get to Gregory.

Tony likes to think his detective skills are pretty good. So when he swings a leg over the seat of his bike and wheels it near the entrance, he hopes it's the right place.

He'd tracked down Gregory to this apartment complex somewhere in Gale county. It's still in Hurricane, and Tony had been able to reach it with just a bus ride. The apartment is somewhat run-down, but clean enough to where you can tell it's well kept, just old. The air conditioning units he passes on the way to the front door are brand new.

He'd taken the closest bus to Gale county right after school let out. He'd been restless all day up until finally acting on his findings. Tony has been searching for Gregory for a year. Finally finding something and having to wait for his middle school day to end was agonizing. He just hopes his Mom and Grandma wont be too mad at him.

He'd wrestled his bike he'd ridden to school that day discreetly onto the bus and wedged it in-between his legs and the seat in front of him. The air had been humid and thick all day with the signs of a storm, and Tony had seen the dark clouds and heard the thunder peeking over the treeline outside the bus window on the way here. He ducks inside the front door and beats the rain by seconds.

"Can I help you?" The receptionist asks him, giving him a weird look when he steps inside. Shes a lady with long, styled black hair and covered in jewelry. Tony tries not to look too suspicious as he sends her a polite smile, heading to the elevator on the wall to the left. He would also be wary if someone he'd never seen walked into a resident building.

"Just seeing an old friend." He tells her. He presses the button to the third floor and tries to break her gaze by stepping behind the closing doors. The elevator shakes a bit before moving up.

He tries to take a deep breath. Theres some kind of excitement floating around in his chest at the fact that he's done it, but he pushes it down, lowering his expectations.

Despite his theories, he really has no clue what to expect. Theres some sort of worry mixing with the excitement, and all he decides is that if he escaped once, he can do it again.

It both took too long and not fast enough when he finally reaches the third floor. He double checks his crumpled sheet of notebook paper in his hand once, then a second time, something nervous but anticipating thrumming in his veins.

He steps onto the beige carpet of the long hallway, fresh vacuum marks in it, and follows the number plates by each door before coming to a stop near the middle of the hall.

3-05 The plate reads back to him. He quadruple checks his paper again. Its right.

He sighs out deeply, not even realizing he was holding his breath. Despite himself, his brows crease ever so slightly.

He shakes it away, pushing past it. Maybe digging too deep is what got him into trouble before, but its different now. Tony... Tony's learned things during his search for Gregorys location. If there was any point during his investigation that he would call digging too deep, it would have been months earlier from now.

Besides. Tony has always been bad at staving off his curiosity.

He thunks his knuckles on the white wood of the door quickly after that, three times in succession. He kind of bluescreens for a second when he realizes what he just did, then shakes it off. Waiting with wide eyes at the door, watching for a rattling of a doorknob or listening for incoming footsteps.

Nothing. He waits a few more minutes before knocking again, this time a little louder and harder.

Tony perks up when footsteps finally near the door, and his lips part prematurely when the doorknob rattles, not even put-together words yet on his tongue. They fall away immediately when a woman with blonde hair pulled back in a ponytail opens the door, one of those chain locks keeping it open maximum of three inches. "Hello?"

He stutters for a moment, words lost on his tongue, before he clears his throat, putting on a polite smile. "Hi, there." He says. "Um. Who are you?"

"I should be asking you that, kid." The woman raises a brow at him, never opening the door more than the chain lock allows it. She peers at him through the gap, and Tony tries as discreetly as possible to look past her head and shoulder into the apartment itself. "What are you doing here?"

When he looks back, shes still looking at him in a way Tony can only describe as cautious. The light in the hallway on the ceiling is flickering, and it casts split second shadows on the womans face that makes the bags under her eyes that much more prominent and her face that much more intimidating. "Well?"

Tony realizes he hasnt answered, and coughs slighty. "Oh. Sorry." He says, reluctant to continue. "I'm... I'm looking for Gregory."

Tony watches intensely to see if the name rings a bell or catches her attention. Just as he expects, her face twists ever so slightly in recognition. Tony catches something adjacent to panic or fear in her eyes until it's gone not half a second later.

"Who's asking?" She asks eventually, voice carefully even after a what appeared to Tony to be a mini conundrum in her head.

"His friend." He answers honestly. He ducks his head when the woman scrutinizes him, looking almost angry, but restrained enough to not show it. "I mean it," He says earnestly. "he and I... we were best friends. Last year. I came here to look for him."

Her eyes widen ever so slightly at that, and she studies him, eyes flicking back and forth over his face and his clothes and his hair. Tony doesnt miss the way her eyes linger for a millisecond on his scars. Its silent in the hall save for the two looking at eachother, and the buzzing of the flickering light on the ceiling is enough to save him from hearing his own heartbeat.

"Okay." She says eventually, and Tony subconsciously feels himself sag a bit at the relief that he won't turned away right as he was this close. She shuts the door without a word, and all Tony can do is stare at the peeling landlord white paint on the door as the sounds of the woman unlatching the multiple locks on the other side reach his ears. He waits patiently, until she cracks the door open not much wider than it had been with the lock, but just enough to fit his body in. "Come in. But no word to anyone. Got it?"

About what? Tony's about to ask, but then he steps through the door and the words die on his tongue.

"Oh." He says outwardly when Glamrock Freddy Fazbear sits on the couch. His body is adjacent to the patchwork quilt Tony has on his bed that his Grandma made him, and any of the makeup he had been painted with has long since scratched off.

His eyes are shut, and theres two jump cables attached to his ears that are plugged into a portable something. He doesn't so much as twitch when Tony enters the room.

The woman gives him a look after she re-locks only the deadbolt behind him and passes him into the apartment. "Oh." He repeats. "Not a word."

She nods at him, and it's only now that Tony can see the rest of her that isnt just her face. Shes in her twenties, if he had to guess, and she has a white tank top on with some sort of stain near the collar along with Hello Kitty fleece pajama pants. Her socks are mismatched and her nails are painted a purple color that could rival the deep bags under her eyes.

She collapses into an armchair (which hes pretty sure has a mismatched leg attached to it half-hazardously) and only looks at him silently as he steps further into the house, not so discreetly angling his body to get a peek past walls and open doors across the house.

Shes about to speak when Tony does first, "Wheres Greg?" He asks straight up. "Can I see him?"

Her lips twitch, and she just leans further back into the chair. The TV is playing some sort of Spring baking show, and the droning of the host mixes with the pattering of the rain on the window on the wall by the TV.

Anticipation and impatient-ness buzzes under his skin at being right here, and this woman undoubtedly knowing Gregory certainly doesnt help.

She only hesitates for a moment, but Tony can see the influx of thoughts that undoubtedly ran through her mind. She opens her mouth, taking a slow breath, before, "At school."

"He goes to school?" Tony gasps slightly, eyes widening. He moves to the couch, toeing past Freddy Fazbear as to not touch him even with just a brush of his jeans before sitting down, facing her. "What school?"

"He goes to Raindrop." The woman tells him, seemingly not hesitating this time.

It doesn't ring a bell, but it must be a middle school in Gale county. "...I go to Hailstorm." Tony says. "We both did. Or used to."

She stares at him after that, fingers drumming on the arm of her chair. She says nothing, just scrutinizing him, before, "You sure have a lot of cryptic ways of telling me how you used to know Gregory."

He wants to apologize, because it seems like what to do in response to that statement, but for some reason, that feeling in his gut he's learned to trust as his Detective sense tells him that he shouldn't.

Shes still looking at him intensely, and the rain outside pattering on the window somehow feels louder. There's some thunder outside that rumbles the floor, and the lighting casts a shadow on the living room. A few white lines across the coffee table caused by the blinds covering the window.

Her face doesnt so much as twitch, he notices, and she doesn't blink when she looks at him. Her green eyes bore into him, almost glowing in the shadow cast beneath her bangs. It reminds him of how he'd done to her not minutes ago. What he does to people he wants to analyze. To see how they react to something.

That's what shes waiting for, he realizes. He has a feeling that if he doesnt match her cryptic bluntness and instead apologizes and caves that easily, that it will somehow result in her turning him away.

Theres a glint in her eye when he becomes aware of reality again enough to look, and he thinks she somehow just came to the conclusion that Tony figured it out.

Then, he tries to sit up a bit straighter, and muster up that same glint mirroring back at him. "You sure have a cryptic way of letting me know you dont trust me."

Her mouth twitches slightly, but its all Tony needs to know he'd guessed correctly.

Its silent for a moment, and the woman grabs the remote on the next arm over and pauses the baking show she'd been watching. She shifts in the red velvet seat, as if getting comfortable, before, "Tell me how you know Gregory, and I'll tell you how I know him."

He has a feeling he isnt getting to Gregory unless he gets through this woman first, so he clears his throat, leaning his forearms on his knees.

"Me and Gregory met early last year at the beginning of the school year." He begins. "Right after summer ended in August. He was the new kid, and he sat at our table at lunch since it was mostly empty. Me and my friend arent the most popular, so there was room to spare."

She waves a hand, signaling him to stop. "Your friend?" She asks. He nods. "How many of there were you?"

"...Just me and E-- my friend." He says. "There were two of us, and when Greg sat at our table, we remembered how he looked a little lost earlier in class and we introduced ourselves. Then we just... clicked, I guess. He would partner with us in creative writing."

"Writing, huh?" She smiles slightly.

"Yeah." He replies. "Then, it was just business as usual for the months afterwards." He pauses, fidgeting with the hem of his jacket he loves so much that reminds him of the trenchcoats big city investigators wear. "Then... I had gotten wrapped up in this mystery."

She shifts, crossing a leg over the over and holding her hands together. "A mystery?"

Tony nods, remembering it like it was yesterday. He thumbs the part of arm where a scar is on his arm that his jacket covers. "The three of us would always go to the arcade in the Pizzaplex." He tells her. "And one day, I noticed high scores that seemed impossible to reach, and I became obsessed with solving who it was who had gotten there."

Tony thinks hes very good at reading people. So he doesn't think it's just his imagination when the woman in front of him goes a little rigid in her seat.

Theres some sort of creases under her eyes, Tony notices, that weren't there before.

"What did you do?" She asks.

Tony has a feeling that she somehow knows already. So he doesnt beat around the bush.

"I solved the mystery, eventually." Tony says. "Because GGY had been Gregory, and he'd invited me to the Pizzaplex and tried to kill me."

She sags a bit, looking somehow infinitely more tired, but no surprise detected. "But you survived."

"Not..." He shakes his head, picking at the skin by his fingernails. "I wouldn't have. If not for Greg saving me."

"Huh?"

"He--" Tony searches for the words, looking at the carpet between his knees and remembering that afternoon in every vivid detail he'd looked over countless times before. "He'd tried to kill me, yeah, but... he was almost fighting himself as he did it. He was like having a fistfight with himself."

He doesn't look up at her, he just keeps remembering how Gregory had gone rigid right before plunging the knife into Tony's gut a second time and stopped himself. How it had looked like somebody yanked Gregory backwards, but it had been his own self throwing his body. Just so he didnt hurt Tony again.

"He looked like he was a malfunctioning robot." He recalls. "He was like, hitting himself, and was making noises like he was fighting something. I was too frozen to move at the time, but then he threw me a really high security pass for the Pizzaplex and told me to run."

Then he had collapsed in front of him, like he was holding himself down. He doesn't tell the woman, though.

He looks back up to see her staring, eyes wide in suprise. She looks deep in thought for all but a few moments before shaking herself out of it. "So what did you do?"

"I ran." Tony says. "He had got me already. He stabbed me in the back, the first time. That was how I knew he was attacking me in the first place. But I ran away with the pass, and I went to a room with a ton of monitors and erased the security footage."

Her eyes blow wide as saucers, that time. "You got stabbed," she begins. "and instead of getting help, you erase the security footage?"

"Yeah." Tony nods. "Greg would have gotten in trouble if I didnt."

She's silent, after that. Tony just keeps picking at the skin on his fingers. "I somehow knew that Gregory didnt deserve to be. He just..." Tony trails off. "He didnt seem..."

"Seem like himself?" She suddenly cuts in, and Tony's eyes widen.

He nods, a small tilt of his head, and the woman sighs. "That's what being mind controlled will do to you."

A year ago, probably longer by now, Tony would have never believed that. He would have never thought something so outlandish that is only ever shown in fiction could be a possibility.

Not that he was wrong, to. Really, anyone in their right mind wouldnt think so. But things have changed since then.

And Tony has seen a lot of things during his search that probably nobody else has. Plus, This woman has been so cryptic up to this point. If she told him this straight up, and it's clear that she knows Gregory...

Suddenly, everything that day seems to make perfect sense. And everything he'd found that he'd filed away into his little mental Gregory crazy wall.

(He'd used to call it evidence wall, like normal people do. But, well, at some point, maybe Tony had thought the things he'd been finding were a bit too crazy to deem as normal.)

Theres been a stretch of silence while Tony had been taking that in, and he only breaks it to say, "Is mind control a topic you're familiar with in this house?"

Her eye twitches, a bit. And now that Tony is looking for it, he notices that same strange sheen on her eyes that Gregory had during their friendship. That weird red tinted film that makes their eyes turn a completely different color when the light hits them right.

Tony doesnt yet understand how the mind control Gregory had been under works, but all he can hope is that there are some side effects.

She stares at him, eyes narrow, and theres another roar of thunder outside the window.

"Who are you?"

"Tony." He answers. "Tony Becker. Ring a bell?"

She hums, and she looks at him in a way where he feels like he's being dissected.

"He didnt remember anything for a while." She says eventually. "But hes been having dreams, lately. Sometimes he talks about two kids he used to be friends with."

"Me and Ellis." Tony's eyes widen. It doesn't even occur to him that he shouldn't share Ellis's name.

"He worries about you." She says. "I've heard him say he hopes you're okay. You and that other kid. You must have been close if he remembers being that good of friends with the two of you."

"We were." Tony replies. Memories of him, Ellis, and Greg going to the Pizzaplex and trying to get the most dunks in the basketball hoops flash in his mind. He thinks about when Gregory would come over to Tony's little run down house that he shares with his Grandma, and they write graphic novels together for the fun of it.

Gregory liked to call them comics before he'd suddenly decided that stuff wasnt cool anymore and stopped coming over. It had been like everything Tony saw him enjoy that wasnt painfully average for a child suddenly didn't mean anything to him anymore.

And then Gregory tried to kill him in a dusty back room.

Everything hed given up seems to make more sense now. It wasnt willingly at all.

"He doesn't remember your names." She speaks up suddenly, ripping Tony out of his thoughts. "But he remembers more and more every time he has a dream. Something reminded him of you one day, I guess. That must have been when it started."

Tony opens his mouth, but the beeping of a digital clock interrupts him. He follows the womans arm as it reaches across the seat to turn it off.

The time reads 5:00pm.

He watches as she looks over at him, and nods to the door. "After school activity." She informs him, getting up out of the seat. His eyes follow her as she moves towards the front door. "I'm his ride."

Tony's eyes widen at the implications. "So I just--"

"Stay here." She tells him. She grabs a flannel off of the small coat rack by the front door and slips it on, sliding some Adidas sandals on top of her socks and reaching in the pocket of the coat to grab car keys. She pulls them out, and Tony notices that theres a keychain of a white rabbit dangling from the key ring.

The breath is suddenly stolen from his lungs, and he bolts off of the couch, a buzzing under his skin. "You're bringing him?"

She nods to Freddy Fazbear. "If you can wait." She smiles at him, and it's the first time Tony has seen her smile, instead of the carefully kept nonchalant-ness. "He'll wake up pretty soon once he's done charging. So you won't be completely alone."

Tony doesnt know what to say to that. Thousands of words spawned from the thousands of thoughts hes had about finding and tracking down Gregory are on the tip of his tongue, but he only gets any out when the woman begins to leave the house.

"Wait!" Tony reaches out a hand. She turns around, a brow raised. The door is still slightly ajar, and the sound of heavy rain reaches his ears. "What's your name?"

She smiles a bit at the question. "Vanessa."

"Vanessa," He asks, oddly desperate. "Dont tell him I'm here." He swallows. "I want to see him remember me."

Vanessa tilts her head, but nods after a moment. "Sure, kid."

She smiles one last time on her way out, and says, "Tony Becker."

The sound of the rain outside disperses when the door shuts and locks, and Tony doesnt move for a long while. He just stares at the landlord white door, electricity under his skin and something floaty in his stomach.

Greg. He thinks in his mind when he finally rips himself away and looks around some more, seeing a door propped slightly open down the hall with a bed and a desk with pencils and paper strewn all about. He doesn't dare go in, but stares at what he can see. Its been a while.

The silence is numbing, when he can only hear the faint whirring of Freddy Fazbear on the couch next to him and the rain on the window, he plants himself on the couch cushion next to the animatronic, grabbing the remote and resuming the baking show Vanessa had been watching.

He doesn't listen to a word. He just trembles with anticipation and bobs his leg up and down as he stares at a random corner of the screen.

ao3 link

#i had a lot of fun with this one. if you need help understanding the strange interactions between tony and vanessa #its supposed to be a right of passage i guess. vanessa doesnt want anybody else to get involved #or to drag back any of the vanny & ggy stuff.#not if theyre not serious. so if tony had apologized #it would have shown vanessa that she shouldnt humor him and to just turn him away so he doesnt get involved #because he'd just be a scared kid looking for his friend.#but tony matching her and showing that he understood the test and is still serious about it #& he also matches with gregorys descriptions #shes like alright you can know.#theres meant to be a part 2 to this little oneshot thing where gregory and tony actually reunite #but i still need to plan it out. ive been obsessed with detective rabbit reuniting for a bit now and wanting to write it so #it shouldnt take too long. but no promises lol #just wanted to write tony and experiment with something new and this happened :) it was fun #my fics #pandas writes #tony becker #fnaf gregory #detective rabbit #ggy #tales from the pizzaplex #twoshot #gregory #tony #ellis #vanessa #3 star fam #freddy #also rabbit burrow is a reference to the saying rabbit hole #but i made it burrow because like tony said #he crossed the line a long time ago

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