Tony had sent his text at nearly half past midnight, so it was no surprise when Summer showed up fairly late. Jarvis let her in silently, the only elevator that would open being the one that would let her out near Tony’s office.
His office was…clean. Amazingly clean. Cleaner than it had been in years, in fact. After all, he’d had to keep himself busy somehow when he’d been waiting for Dummy to wake up, and he’d been a bit too scatterbrained to actually work on anything.
He was sitting on the floor beside the desk, one knee drawn up, passing an empty shot glass from one hand to another. He glanced up at her, offering a half-smile like he was going to fall apart with the next breeze.
“Hey,” he greeted, scrounging up something almost resembling cheer. “You know, he was very thorough when he cleared out the bar.”
Summer had been feeling … off, for hours. That horrible, “something is wrong but I can’t figure out what” feeling that made her restless and snappish. When she’d gotten Tony’s text, she’d flung herself out the door so fast she was barefoot, loose-locked, and still wearing house-lounging clothes, wrapped up in a big woolen cloak. She dropped to her knees beside Tony, grabbing his hands.
“What happened? You feel like you just walked through hell.”