AN: I bumped the rating up on this one for having depictions of self harm.
He finds Bruce on the bathroom floor, a glint of metal between his fingers and a sleeve rolled up. Tony swears his heart stops beating, at least until he realizes that there's no red, no blood or cuts. He's not entirely reassured though, and the worry and fear eat at his insides as he takes in the scene.
He approaches Bruce slowly, not wanting to startle him. He seems to be in a sort of trance, oblivious to the outside world. Tony doesn't bother being quiet, he's trying to make his presence known, but it's not until he crouches down right next to Bruce that the other man finally looks up.
"It's a bad day," Bruce says, and that's all the explanation Tony needs right now. He gently pries the razor from Bruce's fingers and slips it into his pocket to dispose of later. He knows that if Bruce really wants to hurt himself he'd find a way, but Tony intends on taking away all the easy options. He plops down on the cold, tile floor and sits facing Bruce. He takes his hands and squeezes them gently, a small reminder that Bruce isn't alone, not any more.
"Did something happen?" He asks. Bruce shakes his head no. Tony understands, there isn't always a concrete reason for feeling like this. Bad days just happen sometimes, the weight of the darkness catches up to Bruce and there isn't anything he can do besides wait it out, trusting that it will get better. It's easier now that he has someone to wait with him, though Bruce feels bad about dragging Tony into it all. Tony refuses to let him hide, and reminds Bruce that he loves all of him, even the dark twisty bits that Bruce spent so many years trying to cut out of his self, excising demons with his trusty scalpel and trying to bury the parts that wouldn't come out.
"Are you sure you're going to be okay?" It's a few days later and Tony has a conference he's supposed to be leaving for. Instead he's hesitating in the doorway, looking at Bruce with concern and silently debating whether he can skip the meeting or not. It's in D.C. and he'll be gone for 3 days, 3 days that he doesn't want to leave Bruce for. Pepper will be here, but Tony still worries.
"You can go, really," Bruce tries to reassure him. It doesn't quite work, but Tony leaves anyways, after a long hug that he hopes conveys everything he's feeling. It's not until later, on the plane, that Tony realizes Bruce never actually answered his question.
Bruce is sitting on the bathroom floor again. He had spent the last ten minutes prying apart a disposable razor, and was now holding the thin piece of metal to his arm. He just wants to feel something other than this suffocating nothingness that has been following him around all week. He managed to convince Tony he was alright, but he was feeling anything but okay. The numbness had steadily spread until Bruce wasn't sure he was real. He doesn't recognize the person in the mirror, the stranger with the odd blank face.
When he cuts he doesn't feel anything, not at first. He watches the red bubble up and stares, fascinated at the gaping flesh. It's not his body, and so he doesn't feel any pain. Just a morbid sort of curiosity with the potential for considerable damage.
He doesn't hear Pepper knocking on the door. He's too busy opening the skin in front of him, searching for the cause of this black emptiness. All he finds is blood.
"Tony, it's Pepper. You better come home."
Later, after Pepper has bandaged his arm and sat him on the couch, Bruce begins to come back to himself. His memory is slightly fuzzy around the edges, but he knows he screwed up. His arm hurts and he realizes he hadn't felt the pain until just now. He's feeling real again, and more present, but also ashamed at his actions and his inability to deal with things on his own. In stark contrast to the nothingness of earlier Bruce's eyes begin to water.
"Oh, honey." Pepper sits on the couch next to him and pulls him towards her, wrapping both arms around him and enveloping him in warmth and vanilla. Bruce starts to cry but Pepper just rocks him slightly and pets his hair.
When Tony comes home it's to find Pepper and Bruce still on the couch, Bruce asleep and Pepper looking like she's not far behind. He rushes over and relieves Pepper, taking her place on the couch and pulling Bruce tight against his chest. He never should have left, he should have listened to his gut and just skipped the meeting, damn the consequences. He places a kiss on Bruce's head and listens to him breathe, needing reassurance that Bruce is in fact still there.
When Bruce wakes he finds himself still on the couch, but with Tony instead of Pepper.
"I'm so sorry," he tells Tony, "I'm so sorry."
"Hey, stop it now. There's nothing to be sorry for. I'm the one that should be apologizing, I never should have left when you weren't feeling well."
"But I messed up." Bruce looks down at his arm, at the white gauze that Pepper so carefully wrapped around his wounds.
"We all mess up. I'm not upset with you, Bruce, I'm just concerned."
Bruce nods his understanding and the two of them enjoy several minutes of content silence before Pepper comes back. She's carrying a stack of Doctor Who DVDs and a bowl of popcorn.
"I thought we could all use a little cheering up." Pepper starts an episode and goes to sit on the other side of Bruce. They end up in a sort of group cuddle; Bruce has one arm around Pepper and his head on Tony's shoulder and he thinks that while cuddles and Doctor Who might not cure his bad days, they certainly helped. Bruce remembers why he loves Tony and Pepper and resolves to keep these things in mind the next time the darkness came. Tony, and Pepper, and pancakes, and field missions, and science, and Doctor Who-it all served as a light, as a way to see through the dark and to the other side. No night was forever, and he had people to sit with him through the dark. The light would come, it would always come, he just had to believe.