Day 6.
Okay.
Enough was an enough.
Nothing was working and Tony was starting to get desperate. If they were to get Quentin back, they were going to need a lot more help. Things were at least a lot less boring with Goblin wandering about now and then. They had another close call shortly afterward, Peter Three had even gotten injured before they were able to contain him. As of right now, Harry had to be babysat by Eleven, just to be safe. Stark had another idea in mind.
With a gentle knock upon the bus doors, the man who the billionaire wanted to talk to was the one to open it, a concerned look on his face. Who could blame him? Tony's hair was messier than the usual, his eyes still red and puffy along with the humongous eye bags that pulled his eyelids down.
"May I come in?" He asked almost below a whisper, the tiredness in his voice clear.
"Of course, you're always welcome here, Tony." The doctor smiled before opening the door a little wider, "Stay as long as you need."
Otto Octavius was another great example of an ex villain trying to do better. He and Tony used to despise each other before the truth about The Sinister Six was brought to light. That's when Stark realized that things weren't always black and white, villains struggled as much as heroes. To be quite honest, sometimes Tony would think about ringing Barnes up to apologize for his outburst that day, but then again, they didn't like each other as it was, so maybe that wasn't such a good idea. He still wishes he could take a lot of things back.
"Pardon me, I don't mean to poke my nose about other people's business, but why the long face?" Otto asked as the tentacle known as Flo tried to offer the guest tea. "I've seen you down in the dumps before but nothing like this, at least I don't recall, did something happen?"
"I wish I could lie and say no." Tony frowned.
"Oh no," Otto expressed before sitting down to give the man his full attention, "What happened? Why, I haven't seen you this down since my... regretful, ways. You were always so attached to those two." Uh oh. "...Oh dear."
Tony's frown only grew bigger as he thought more and more about his one and only's position. Crammed into a small box with nothing to do. What's worse was Stark knew Beck extremely well, with nothing to do Quentin overthinks, oh, he must be an emotional mess in there... and he can't stop the overthinking or reassure him that nobody hates him or whatever he may be thinking. Maybe he took the easy way out and Tony would truly never see him again.
Octavius waited patiently, clearly the Avenger was having a moment, and it wouldn't be right to pester him into details. He'd wait until Stark was comfortable. He stirred the tea with an extension from one of his mechanical tentacles. Thankfully the vehicle was peaceful and quiet, the rest of the members were out practicing, apart from Norman, but he was asleep in Octavius' bed.
"It was S.H.I.E.L.D.," Tony finally spoke, causing Otto to put his cup down and give his full attention, "Some of his agents found a sorcerer item called a Prison Realm. Six days ago, he orchestrated an entire plan while Quentin was outside... I guess what I'm trying to say is he was sealed... he's been in this tiny box for days. Fury won't let it out of his sight, so it's placed in his trench coat pocket."
"I see," Otto responded honestly, "I did figure it was a bit quiet around here. The future is quite confusing, a Prison Realm? Sounds horrible."
"I never showed it back then, but Quentin is one of or if not the most important puzzle piece of my heart. When I was bitter and in denial, I tried to fill that hole with pieces that didn't fit. Peter was the closest thing, but I think instead he just made the puzzle bigger, that piece was still missing. When I reunited with him... everything felt right. Now with him gone I feel awful, empty even. My heart isn't complete without him."
"That's very poetic, Stark," The doctor hummed, "I've never dealt with Fury and his crew, but I'll try and help in any way I can. Though Beck can be quite obnoxious, he is needed on this property and in your life."
"Really?" Tony asked. He had finally accepted the tea and boy was he glad, it was some of the best tasting, most relaxing tea his tongue had ever tasted.
"Of course Stark. If you'd like to run back to your lab to plan or whatever else, you are more than welcome to. I always do enjoy when you visit." Otto smiled, "Flo, Moe, Larry and Harry love your visits too."
"Actually... I was hoping I could stay here a little longer." Stark chuckled, "I can't believe I'm saying this, but the lab is too stressful to stay in right now. It's filled with despair and uh, well, a ton of people at the moment. I don't think I've ever seen the bus this... calm."
Otto nodded as the tentacle known as Flo gave the playboy a gentle but efficient head ruffle with her claws. "Stay as long as you need, Tony, you're always welcome here. If you need me I'll be in the kitchen, I've got plans to make lunch you know, any requests?"
"Honestly, I'll eat whatever you make. You have as much talent with food as I have smarts."
"I think that's a compliment," Otto questioned, "But very well. Just let me know if you change your mind." And with that, the tall scientist left for the kitchen.
Tony took a second to admire the decorations and anterior of the bus. It was simple but efficient. Cozy even. He went ahead and laid down on the couch he was sitting on. It was soft and cold and, to be quite frank, probably one of the most comfortable pieces of furniture he had touched. If only he could....doze.... off.
Otto had peeked his head into the room to check on his guest, and a warm smile crossed his face when he realized he was okay. Tony needed this nap, hopefully it will turn into something much longer. To keep it peaceful, Octavius had one of Quentin's old capes back from when he used to live amongst the others. The right thing to do was to gently toss it over the grieving husband to keep him nice and warm. In the meantime, he made his way back to the kitchen to get started with lunch. He had a pretty good idea of what.
The chef hummed as he tied his apron and placed his hat down on his head. He was going to make some simple sandwiches. Something that can be spread between many people in case other depressed souls decide if they'd like to stay for an hour or two. Each arm had unique gadgets and purposes. Flo would pour the ingredients in while Moe mixes. The other two grabbed bags and other such stuff while Otto read from the cook book. It belonged to his wife, Rosie.
Firstly, he started making the fresh bread. Proofing the yeast before preparing the dough. That's what made Octavius' meals unique, he always hands made everything and if he couldn't, he grew it. Next was kneading the dough while his tentacles prepared the oven and stuff like that. Finally, it was time to place it into the oven to rise. While that's baking, he'd move onto the inside of the sandwich. Oh baking was so relaxing.
In no time, the man had enough sandwiches for the entire household, even with the way everybody liked them. Max didn't like the crust, Tony wasn't fond of pickles, and the Peters didn't like condiments. Some people liked extra things on their meals, so extra things they shall have. He delightly packed up half of the sandwiches before placing the rest in the fridge for when the remaining members returned. Once the kitchen was cleaned, he'd get some gardening in while he waited for Tony to awake from his slumber.
Tony did wake up, he had a good small cry when he noticed the cape before stretching and regaining himself. Otto let him keep the piece of cloth until they'd unseal Mysterio, he was thankful for that. Octavius handed him the bag of sandwiches while explaining and wished him on his way. He was happy to see that Tony's eye bags had gone down a bit. The doctor reminded the playboy that he and his adopted children would be more than happy to help Tony whenever he comes up with a plan.
So I guess there was only one thing left to do.
Or two.
Give everyone their sandwich and come up with rescue plan number two.
Hang in there Quentin.