[Watchtower Telepad, Los Angeles] Hug Me (Invite Only)

Tony looks up from his staring contest with the telepad (which he was winning) with a quick, "Kid, all I do is deal with top-secret operations. I used the scanner to get in the same as you. If I wasn't supposed to be here, I wouldn't be. Unless you're implying Oracle's work is subpar?"

One eyebrow lifts as Tony takes in the appearance of the other man and he 'hm's softly. This man is familiar, though he can't quite place him. Something about that knowing and off-putting grin just reminds him of-

"Was I just getting scolded by the Johnny Storm? What were you gonna do, give me the 3rd degree?" An all too pleased smirk fits across his mouth as Tony continues while never leaving the side of the telepad. "Afternoon to you too, Johnny. I can call you 'Johnny' right? Right. No need to get all heated up. I was merely waiting for my ride."

Stark gestures to the still-silent telepad. "I don't suppose you have a set of keys?"

Tony's ego inflates greatly as he seems to notice that Johnny knows of him. In fact, it almost sounds like he just might be a fan. Oh, he is going to have so much fun with him. Poor thing.

"That is very wise. You can never be too careful when it comes to shape-shifting temporal beings or fey," Tony agrees with a sage nod. He has never met either, but Johnny Storm does not need to know that. "Of course, you can call me 'Tony.'" And his voice is layered with playful offense and mock shock. "After all, we're co-workers, Johnny. That practically makes us friends."

Stark hesitates before offering his best attempt at a sheepish smile, "I mean, unless you don't think we're there yet. I can completely understand if you need more time before you would call me 'friend.'"

Johnny's agreement brings true satisfaction to Tony's smile, the corners of his eyes crinkling just a touch.

"That would be fantastic, Johnny. I really appreciate the help. Barbara knows I'm on the way, though it has been so long since I've worked one of these. My work has kept me out and about." He glances at the telepad as if he could get it to work just by staring long enough and rubs the back of his neck. "You mind giving me a crash course?"

Johnny reminds him of a golden retriever and Tony can see why Barbara likes him. Even Tony's natural 'I could not care less' attitude feels further away. He watches as Johnny steps up to the teleporter, stroking his chin, and Tony smirks. Either this guy has no idea what he's doing or he's putting on a show to override his nerves.

"I followed your exploits for a while when I was running my company. It felt like your face was always on the TV. Those news reporters absolutely loved you." He isn't lying either. He's heard more than his fair share of people talking about the 'Fantastic Part' of the Fantastic Four.

Stark reaches out to take his hand, praying that the younger man will be focused on his magic enough not to feel how thin it is or how it trembles. He wonders if he should have stayed at him for the sake of his reputation and company. Then, Tony thinks of the silence and impossible project at home and decides this is better.

All he wants is to be in the Watchtower. To look down at Earth and enjoy the sight while he has time. Tony's eyebrows raise as the 'magic words' reach his ears. He knows enough Latin to understand that this can't be right.

"Who taught you those words," he asks, noting that the runes around the teleporter are lighting up one by one. Tony Stark has no idea how any of this is working. "Do you know what they mean, Johnny?"

Tony waits, letting Johnny realize on his own and he offers the man a softer smirk that nearly borders a smile. His brows pull together and lift in not-quite pity.

"She's known for her pranks, don't take it too hard. 'Ego Sum' means 'I am' in this context. 'Credulus' is a bit more difficult to translate. It more or less means 'one who believes easily.'" He recites all of this as he follows Johnny, sounding like an older brother explaining a joke to his kid brother.

"You were saying, 'I am gullible.' Out of all of her pranks, it is perhaps the most kind one I have seen. I know she was cackling once about making some poor sap say 'For the Honor of Greyskull', but I never found out more about that."

Tony's smile slips into a frown as he looks down at his hand, watching as blue light coats them and then-

"I don't think we're in Kansas anymore, Dorthy." The words are funny in print, but Tony says them breathlessly. From the telepad, it is immediately obvious that they are in space with long, wide windows showing the vast emptiness surrounding their planet. His hand unconsciously squeezes Johnny's as Tony leaves the telepad and heads for a window.

There is a soft tone playing from his smartwatch, alerting him that his heart rate is getting too high, but he ignores it. No, the only thing that matters to him is getting to the nearest window and looking out at where Earth, his Earth, floats serenely below them. Tony's chest is tight and his breaths come out in little puffs. Excitement and a short walk seem to have exhausted him.

It doesn't matter. He presses his forehead to the window in child-like wonder. "Isn't she beautiful, Johnny?"

Tony feels the hand on his shoulder and a little voice in the back of his mind scolds him for not shaking it off. His breath fogs the glass a bit as he stares down a the Eastern edge of Australia and the Pacific Ocean. God, he wishes more people could see the Earth from up here. Maybe there would be less war and strife.

"I'm. Fine." Each word is its own breath and Tony leans into the strong arm around his shoulders. It is only supposed to be for a second. A lopsided smile moves into place. "Missed. Cardio. Ha."

The alert on his watch is still going off when his eyes close. Tony knows he will regret this moment of weakness later, that he will scold himself for letting yet another person in on the secret. Right now? Right now, all he can think about is the way Barbara had smiled while talking about Johny.

Tony had referred to Babs and himself as moons and Johnny as a sun. Surely, surely, it will be alright to take just a little bit of that warmth for himself.

"You can't. Tell anyone," the man wheezes slightly, turning his head to look Storm in the eyes. "Sitting sounds. Nice. I'll explain. After."

It was indeed odd for the Watchtower medbay to be completely empty. It was protocol for at least one staff member to be on call (the robot, sadly, did not count). The two of them would have a couple moments to themselves before that reprieve came to an end. A tall, imposing man emerged from a back room, shaded by a row of medical curtains that were drawn back after he had parted through them. He was most certainly not dressed like a doctor - a billowing black cloak, including a form-fitting cowl that exposed his lower mouth, accompanied with a crescent moon insignia on the cowl's forehead and green-tinted lenses set against his eyes. Beneath the cloak was a bright-red tunic underneath with brass buttons and inlays, and black spandex leggings and boots completed the look of a man that would most certainly belong in a place like the Watchtower. The irony of that was not lost on him, a small joke to himself. However, the man maintained a stoic seriousness that betrayed no humor whatsoever.



There was a single pause before he clued into the nature of what was going on. The man moved quickly, his movements at ease within this space but no less attentive to the clear distress that Tony was in. He snapped his gloved fingers at Johnny, gesturing to a nearby gurney. There wasn't any time for introductions. The man took Tony into his arms with ease, waiting for Johnny to accommodate him. Once this was done, he quickly but carefully placed the man onto the bed, then moved about the room to gather medical equipment. He tapped the side of his temple a couple times, speaking under his breath. "Something's come up, dear. I'm going to be late." Again.

He started to hook Tony up to machines for preliminary checks. "What happened? Did you find him like this?" He did not raise his head to Johnny, but it was clear who his questions were directed at.