Title: Crossing Bridges
Author: Ash Gray Kitsune
Disclaimer: I do not own the Avengers; that's Marvel's purview
Pairing: Bruce/Tony/Hulk friendship
Summary: A decade since Tony and Bruce found one another, Hulk and Tony remember all that's happened...and all that is waiting for them in the future.
Crossing Bridges
"Tony."
"Just one sec, big guy, gotta solder these last few bits together..."
"Tony, talk." The Hulk's deep voice, an amalgram of Bruce's normal soft tones and a primal growl, held a note of no-nonsense as the enormous being crossed his arms and stared down at the engineer. "Now." His verbal skills were actually pretty impressive, given that his larynx and vocal cords shifted so much during the transformation that he actually shouldn't have been able to talk.
"One sec, big dude..." Two large hands wrapped around his waist; if the thought had flickered through the Hulk's mind, he could have bent Tony backwards just by moving his thumbs. Thankfully, he, Bruce, and the big green guy were best of friends; closer, even, than he and Rhodey or he and Pepper. He loved his two oldest friends, and always would...but when it came down to it, neither of them knew the pain of his reactor at night...and neither of them would, barring Pepper's one time, help him change it out when he adjusted the fittings.
Bruce, on the other hand, routinely got his hands dirty helping Tony fight off the miniscule bits of shrapnel that always tried to find another route to his heart, and knew the innerworks of his chest cavity almost better than he did. And on the nights, and days, when Bruce couldn't handle what he'd become...it was Tony who treated the Hulk to Looney Toons and a giant effing pizza, with more just on speed dial. He'd never realized that the Hulk could laugh...and was a big fan of Bugs Bunny. From there, he'd begun to court both doctor and beast; doctor for his heart, beast for his friendship...and now, ten years later, Tony was dangling eight feet in the air and staring into the calm, small green eyes of the Hulk, who was wearing an expression better suited for his mother.
"Alright, alright...you caught me. What's up?" He grinned in retaliation, folding his arms over those large hands and propping his head on them, kicking his feet a little. There was something...giddy about being held like a four year old, and at the ripe old age of forty, Tony could appreciate feeling like a kid again a whole lot more than when he actually was a brat. Of course, wearing Converse and band shirts over raggedy Levi's hadn't changed, so why should his mentality?
"Bruce sad. Tony sad. Hulk know why." The grin melted off of Tony's face, and dark shadows filled brown eyes. Of course the Hulk knew why...it wasn't that hard to remember, after all.
"...I know we need to talk about it. It's just, y'know, really difficult, because without Coulson or Hill or hell, even Fury, we don't know where to start...And Clint and Natasha, that second fucking mission in Budapest...and Steve's off god-knows-where, and Thor, he hasn't been back since his brother's punishment. Not in Malibu or New York, at least...And Bruce...Bruce has taken it all so fucking hard. They were the first family that he ever really had...and...me...I guess...I miss them. I miss the movie nights and fighting over which version of Total Recall is better, and the snarking...I miss what we had."
"Hulk misses too." Tony blinked as he was gathered close to the big man's chest, and for a moment, he surrendered to the urge to cry, just a little, realizing, for the first time, just how silent it was in the Tower. There was no soft shuffling in the vents, where Hawkeye and Widow had played tag time and again, no old jazz music wafting up through the building because Steve forgot how to work the speaker system and hooked his Ipod in instead...there wasn't an odor of fish and strawberry Poptarts, nor did Thor's voice hum through the very windows.
He had always hated silence; it meant an end to things, a death, of a sort, and now, with everyone gone...it was oppressive, aching...
"Tony." That voice seemed so much older than the being who possessed it, and not for the first time, the engineer really wondered if Bruce actually knew where the Hulk came from. Though his penchant for violence and destruction was nearly impossible to escape in the heat of battle, this same being could be trusted with an infant over a dozen square blocks of battle. But now, as the Hulk seated himself on the couch, he found himself in an odd position, for him, at least; giving comfort.
"Hey, man...I know how it feels. I really do. And I know...I know that Bruce is probably a wreck inside right now. Hell, I am...but...we stand on a playing field the likes of which no other will ever see. We've lost friends...we've lost family. But...we have each other...and we have our skills...and someday, if I can get him cornered enough, we'll talk out our feelings and sip tea from white china." A soft snort sounded above his head, and Tony grinned weakly.
"And eat biscuits, like the British, and I'll drag him to Broadway, and we can be a pair of gay old men wandering around pissing off the tourists, and I'll get him all hot and bothered in public. And we'll go to the next Pride parade; I'm dressing up as myself, but I'll need to get a permit to allow my martini glass access..." A guffaw sounded, and Tony patted the enormous pectoral in front of his face, taking comfort in the sound of the enormous heart behind it.
"I'm still gonna be sad, dude...that's the way of things. But...it's been a few years now, and if time hasn't healed the pain, at least it's made it more distant. I think it's time to start moving forward again...don't you?"
...Just a little ficlet, partly mirroring issues in my own life that I'm trying to tackle. Ah, Tony, I wish you were here to help me out. I trust your barista skills over mine any day.