Bruce eyed Stark through the clear screen of the monitor. Tony, surrounded by all his gadgets and gizmos. He was in his element, comfortable, at ease with his place, where he belonged. Bruce got the feeling that Tony somehow understood the complexities of his situation, sympathised or at least, tried to be dimensional in his thinking of him. Of what he was. Bruce knew he'd never be comfortable, not like Tony appeared to be. No gadgets, no top of the line equipment would ever make him feel like that.
No, they built special gadgets and prisons to keep people like him under control. No freedom like Stark, just the knowing the monster lingered just under the surface, waiting for his oppurtunity to get out.
Tony glanced over at him, waiting for an answer to a question he didn't recall hearing. Bruce smiled in his deadpan way and ignored how Tony's eyes glinted in response, like he found it, endearing. A small pause, then he repeated himself and Bruce got with the program, brushed the moment aside. He didn't get the chance at moments or what ifs. The wrath of the monster kept everything of the sort firmly out of reach.