DISCLAIMER: I do not own Avengers or any other character or setting in the Marvel universe (cinematic or otherwise)!
While It Lasted
TBTBT
Tony tossed back a second shot of scotch, as per his daily ritual of solidifying himself. It was much too early in the morning to be drinking but these days he needed it to keep himself together. He could depend on alcohol. He knew what it did to him, it was predictable and it never failed him. He'd drink it and it would get him drunk. It was beautifully simple, unlike the rest of his life.
He corked the bottle of scotch then turned around, intended to place it on the glass shelf along the back wall. But then he faltered when he caught his reflection in the mirrored wall. He touched his finger tips to his cheek. He just looked so old. His hair was more gray than black, fine lines and wrinkles marred his flesh, his eyes seemed so much duller than what they used to be.
How old was he again? Seventy-something? He's stopped keeping track of his birthday nearly twenty-something years ago, ever since his life started to take a downward spiral… He shook his head. He didn't want to think about that just yet. He put away the scotch then left the room, padding down the hall to his bedroom.
He gently pushed the door open, not wanting to make too much noise. Soft music greeted him from the speakers hidden around the room. He always made sure to turn it on before coming down for a drink. The early morning light coming through the sheer curtains gently lit up the room. He used to always keep it dark, but now keeping it so dark made him uncomfortable.
He went to the bed, standing there and gazing over the form that lay there on one side of the mattress. "Good morning, lazy bones. It's time to get up." He said softly. But of course, he didn't get a response. He never got one, not anymore. He stopped expecting one a long time ago. IT was more just habit and it made him feel better to say something.
Bruce lay so quietly there, tucked under his covers with his eyes closed. He looked so peaceful. His hair brown curls had gone completely gray and his face aged so much more gracefully that Tony's, at least in Tony's opinion. He had all the right lines in the right places. Some of them Tony was proud to say where legitimate laugh lines from actually making the scientist happy, at least for a while.
"You don't want to get up, hmm? Oh well. I guess we can sleep in today." He said with an amused tone. He crawled onto the bed, over the covers to lie next to Bruce, his head resting on the edge of Bruce's pillow, his hand going to rest on his shoulder. And of course, Bruce didn't respond. He couldn't. Not anymore. Tony's throat became tight. This is why he chose to drank every morning, so it wouldn't hurt so much.
Bruce had developed Amyotrophic Lateral Sclerosis, or more commonly known as Lou Gehrig's disease. It was an incurable illness that deteriorated the nervous system. Starting with motor skills. He didn't show any signs till nearly five years into their relationship. He would become more sluggish, hardly be able to keep his hands steady and would start to become more unbalanced to the point where he'd trip while walking.
Tony had so franticly tried to come up with his own cure, but it never worked. Then finally Bruce was able to convince him to just enjoy what they could. Tony would start cooking more, clean more, do anything that Bruce used to do but couldn't. And now, now Bruce was forever confined to this bed. He couldn't walk, couldn't even talk. Tony tried not to let it get to him but it was clear that breathing was starting to become harder and hard for his beloved.
He ran his fingers through Bruce's hair. "I know you don't agree, ever, but you look beautiful today." That was always a thing they did, Tony would call compliment him and Bruce would deny it. "The weather is nice. It rained last night, you know. And now the air is fresh." He voice wavered with unshed tears.
He didn't know when it happened. It could have happened only moments ago, when he was having a drink or sometime in the night while he was sleeping. But all he knew was that Bruce's skin was cold to the touch and he couldn't feel Bruce's soft breathing. He had passed on, finally free. He was no longer trapped in a body that couldn't function.
Tony wasn't a religious man but he prayed anyways. Prayed that he did a good enough job trying to make Bruce happy. And he prayed that, if there was an afterlife, that Bruce was in a happy place, living out the rest of entirety in bliss. He deserved it more than anyone. Tony let out a small sob then gathered Bruce's stiff body into a tight hug, pressing his face into his hair as he finally let his tears run free.
"I love you. I always loved you, even though I didn't say it much. I hope you enjoyed your life while it lasted."
TBTBT
A/N: Tony is 73 and Bruce is 74. This fic is based off a story arc in the Hulk comics where Bruce did develop ALS, however, he was able to cure himself of it. I have not read the comic so I don't know how he got it or how he cured it. I just know that it happened.