The Big Picture || Tony Stark

One || Run

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01

Run

The first indication that something was wrong was coming home to find her front door unlocked. Eleanor shoved the key into the lock and twisted it, only for the door to swing open without resistance. She must've left that morning without locking it completely. Punishment for leaving in such a hurry.

Inside, the air shimmered from heat and humidity, and she mentally cursed the automatic timer and cranked the fan up to full blast, most likely using the last boost of electricity in the entire building.

She hovered over it for a moment, and when the burning heat finally receded from her body, she began to make her way into the kitchen, with plans of finishing off the last box of pop tarts and spending the rest of the night in her art studio. When she walked around the corner into the kitchen, she was greeted by a little mew of surprise from the cat sitting on the countertop.

Poe was in the house.

Eleanor froze, her heart suddenly thumping, and Poe leaped up to greet her, but she snatched him to her chest, stilling his movements.

She might've forgotten to lock the door that morning, but there was no way Poe, a stray cat who took up resident on her front doorstep, could've squeezed inside without her noticing. Someone must've let him in.

She stood, feeling Poe's warm, panting body against her chest, and trying to listen.

When she heard nothing, it occurred to her – he probably squeezed through one of the cracks in the foundation. She didn't think any were big enough for him to get through, but she remembered her childhood cat and how she used to squeeze between the tiny openings of closed doors.

She practically melted in relief, dropping Poe, who was wriggling nervously and digging his claws into her forearm. She grabbed her pop tarts and a tiny packet of instant coffee crystals, before she scooped him up to sling him out into her studio.

But when she opened the door, there was a man standing there.

Standing in front of the afternoon sunlight that flooded from the window, he looked like a shadow. The only thing she could make out from his plastic, rabbit mask and hoodie was his shining, green eyes that crinkled when he saw her, like he was smiling.

Eleanor didn't speak. Didn't move. She just stood there, sweating and panting. Poe jumped from her arms and shot back into the kitchen, leaving her shaking.

About a hundred thoughts raced through her head. Where's my phone? Why did my lock have to be so old? I don't have any money, so he might be after more than that. God, he's going to kill me.

Then her eyes traveled down to the man's hands. He was holding a self-portrait of Eleanor, one of the only pieces she had in her studio that wasn't burned or otherwise completely destroyed. At the time, though, that detail seemed monumentally unimportant. 

Where the hell is my gun?

The gun – the one that her cousin had given her ages ago for Christmas. Although she pretended to be grateful, Eleanor was staggeringly afraid of guns, and locked it up in a safe in her bedroom and she hadn't opened it since then. At the time, she ignored Cal's warning that as a woman living practically alone in a big city, she needed to learn how to use it.

Now, the thing that might be her only chance was locked away behind a combination she probably forgot, and she was betting she didn't even have enough time to run to it.

She felt her blood drain from her head and fingers, pooling in the core of her body, ready to fight or run, whichever it had to be.

He took a step forwards.

"Don't..." She wanted it to sound like a command, but it came out like a plea – a painful squeak, quivering pathetically with fear. "Don't – "

But she didn't get a chance to finish. Her phone started ringing in her pocket.

In her heart, Eleanor knew it was Cal, and she wanted nothing more than to answer it and beg him to come save her. But she saw how the man froze at the sound, and she didn't wait a second more to react.

Realizing she was holding her breath, she let it out, long and shuddering, and then slowly forced her hand out towards the door. He took a quicker step forward, and with a rush, she grabbed the knob and swung the door shut.

A characteristic of the odd layout of her home was the locks on the outside of the doors. Although Eleanor overlooked it at the time, she knew it probably saved her life. She pushed in the lock, and in a second, she heard him pounding on the other side of the door. The door violently shook and Eleanor jumped back, gasping when she realized that he was hitting something against it, trying to knock it out of its frame.

It was like a spell had been broken. And, with no time to think, she ran in the direction of her front door. The sunlight hit her like a horrible bolt of lightning, and the feeling of it made her entire body tremble, but she didn't slow until she was downtown, surrounded by strangers in a sea of people.

She couldn't fight the urge to look over her shoulder, or the instinct to flinch away whenever someone accidently bumped into her. But, at least, out here, someone could hear her scream. The uproar of the crowd, which should've galvanized her, instead paralyzed her, and she quickly took refuge on an empty bus bench.

Although it was ninety degrees outside, she couldn't stop trembling, and it took about ten minutes before she came to her senses and grabbed her phone from her pocket.

She should've called the police, or at the very least, a nonemergency response line, but she really had no desire being interrogated with questions. Instead, her finger hovered over the number of the only person she really trusted in a time like this. However, knowing she couldn't trust her voice when she could barely trust her lungs to breathe properly, she relied on a text, preying that he wasn't too preoccupied with his wife or three children to randomly hang out with his twice-removed, distant cousin.

Can you meet me for coffee? I'm having a bit of a crisis, and I could really use your help. If not, I understand.

Eleanor stared at the screen for all of two seconds before he responded. Thank God you texted. Lucy is out with the kids and I'm bored as hell. I will be at Joe's in ten minutes.