Simon and Tony, Backdated to 8/13

[om_ironman]

Tony goes to Simon for a checkup and proceeds to ignore every bit of advice given. Who's surprised?

It wasn't that Tony wanted to get checked out, exactly. What he did have was a certain amount of curiosity about his new...anatomic changes, and a decided lack of interest in seeing a doctor ever again. So the fact that the school had it's own medical lab and someone who could apparently do checks without all of the poking and prodding was pretty much too good an opportunity to pass up.

He still probably should have told someone he was coming first, but in all honesty Tony had been a little bit afraid he'd manage to talk himself out of it if he didn't just go the hell down there. If there was someone there, fine, if there wasn't...that was fine too.

"Hello?" He said cautiously as he peered inside. "Is there a password? Do I have to prove I have insurance?"

Nearby, a young man perched at a counter with a laptop open in front of him, fingers tapping against the keys a good three more beats after Tony stopped speaking before he looked up. Simon glanced over his shoulder, about to reply with greeting when he recognized the young man. That promptly changed the greeting to a wry, "I don't know. Are you planning to blow anything up?"

"Well not at the moment," Tony said as he let himself the rest of the way inside. "I left my C4 in my other pants. You're Simon?"

Simon gave a small nod as he closed the laptop. "Tam; there are two of us. Although, I assume that I'm the one you're looking for."

"Unless the other one can do the MRI thing too, I'm pretty sure it's you."

"Invisibility," Simon informed him, then pushed up off of the stool to stand and turn toward the younger teen. "And calling my power an 'MRI thing' is a bit like saying you like to tinker with things."

"Not like anyone's told me what else to call it," Tony said easily, and spread his arms out in a faintly conciliatory way. "What would you prefer?"

"Biological psychometry," Simon motioned toward an exam room, then led the way. "I don't just image the body. I understand the chemical makeup; hormones, glands, even genetic sequencing if I really stretch my limits."

"Okay then," he said as he wandered along after him. "I apologize for impugning your abilities then. Or is that just a sore spot?"

The young would-be med student glanced over his shoulder with a small smile. "It's not a sore spot. I just think that you should be accurate when you're talking about someone's skills and abilities."

Tony snorted and aimed a dry look at his back. "Somehow I have a feeling accuracy isn't a problem for you."

"Not generally," Simon agreed. "It's up to you if you want to take a seat on the table or chair. I can work either way, depending on what you're comfortable with."

Tony gave the examining table a slightly narrow-eyed look and dropped gracelessly into the chair. "So what do I need to do?"

"Well," Simon began, closing the door behind them as he lowered himself onto the stool. "I'm assuming that if the headmasters sent you my way that you don't have a problem with touch? No powers' issues with skin to skin contact?"

That same slightly suspicious look promptly transferred itself to Simon. "Is this the kind of thing where somebody is going to end up owing somebody else dinner?"

Simon stared back at him with a flat expression. "I was only planning to touch your arm, but if you'd like to buy me dinner, I won't say no to a free meal."

Tony grinned instantly in return, wide, charming and completely on reflex. "Guess we'll see. Go on then, Doc, do your thing."

Simon rolled his eyes a little, because how many times had he seen that look? Instead of commenting, however, he reached out and laid his hand unceremoniously on Tony's arm. And, almost immediately, he pulled his hand back, sucking a surprised breath as he stared back at the younger teen. "Son of a bitch."

He could only gather that that wasn't the usual response, but Tony just cocked his head to give Simon a curious look. "So what's the story, Doogie, will I live?"

Swallowing down his shock and surprise, Simon reached out for him again, refusing to let Tony's attitude get the better of him. Especially when he honestly had no clue what he'd just felt, beyond a circulatory system unlike anything he'd ever felt before. He forced himself to close his eyes, to actually listen and feel and bite down the unfortunate instinct to scramble away from the other teen like he was a reactor about to blow. "This. I. I didn't know...have you...have your doctors...?"

"Yeah, gonna need a full sentence before I can answer anything," Tony said, watching Simon's hand wrap around his arm again. "But I'm pretty sure the answer is no, regardless. No, no one knows what the hell, that's why I'm asking you."

"I...cannot even tell what this is running through your veins, but it's clear that it's some sort of energy source," Simon murmured, his eyes staying closed as he probed deeper. "Your entire cardiovascular system, from veins to arteries to...my God, your heart."

It was probably a bad sign when you could make someone who went to a school for mutants sound that shocked by something, but it at least explained why those private doctors Howard had gotten had given him such weird looks. "What about it?" Tony asked with narrowed eyes, just barely resisting the urge to press his free hand against the plate he'd put in.

Simon looked up, finally, a soft frown puckering his brow. "Were you shot?"

"Well I didn't get a hole in my chest through a gardening accident," Tony snorted, because the sarcasm was always easier than admitting even to himself that talking about it still kind of made him want to duck and cover.

If Simon registered the sarcasm, or even Tony's discomfort, it didn't seem to register. "Your heart seems to have been replaced by the cavity, which is also functioning as a sort of hub for the circulating energy. This...these plates look like they were installed after the initial accident, and sloppily at that. There are still bullet fragments lodged in the cavity."

"Hey," Tony said instantly, any discomfort instantly forgotten in the face off offense, "who're you calling sloppy?"

Simon stared at him. "You did this...to yourself?"

"Well not the shooting part, but this?" Tony tapped a finger against the center of his chest, producing a slightly metallic sound. "Yeah. Wasn't going to let anybody else do it."

The older teen gave him a somewhat frustrated look. "You realize that you may be an engineering genius, but you are not a medical doctor, right?"

"Really?" Tony's eyes went mockingly wide. "Does that mean I have to stop putting MD after my name? It looks so fancy."

Simon snorted softly from his nose. "You need to see Josh Foley. He'll be able to expel the bullet fragments. Fortunately, you didn't screw yourself over too much, but it's still a shoddy job. If you want a real casing for it, you should speak to Dr. MacTaggart."

Something in Tony's eyes shifted imperceptibly, but somehow he seemed to be taking the whole thing seriously for the first time since he'd gotten there. There was a laser-sharp focus that hadn't been there before, all fixed on Simon. "Is it going to do any damage as it is?"

"To be honest? I can't say. But I do know that you aren't done growing and you're likely to put on more muscle here as well. Both are factors in how the casing will fit with your body, and Dr. MacTaggart could work with you to give you a better idea of how to create and implement something that won't inhibit you or pose a problem down the line," Simon explained.

"Then it will probably be fine for the moment," Tony said, back to irreverently cheerful like a switch had been flipped, and got to his feet. "Thanks for the diagnosis, Dr House."

Simon frowned up at him. "At least let Josh get the bullet fragments out. He can do it without surgery."

"We'll see," he said with an airy, dismissive wave. "See you around."

"Stark."

"Yeah?" Tony spun on one heel to face him.

"I won't tell anyone," Simon told him soberly.

"Well I'd hope not, medical confidentiality and all."

"I'm not..." Simon started, then cut himself off. It was clear that Tony didn't have any intention of showing that Tony was taking this seriously, even if he had a suspicion that he was. He simply sighed and gave a small nod. "See me if you have any other questions."

"You'll be the first to know," Tony agreed, all solemnity, and tossed him an absent salute. "Later, Hawkeye."