It has been a long time. So, just to update you guys on what has happened since I last wrote a chapter: I got a BA in history, got married, a week later, got a job as a teacher in a middle school, and am currently working on my master's degree while on summer vacation.

I'm not one for excuses. I just plain ran into a wall years ago in this story and let it be while my life got busy. Well, my affairs are more sorted and I'd like to pick this up again if any of my old readers would be interested in continuing with me and this story. Maybe even pick up some new readers.

Usual notification: don't own Marvel or any of their characters,etc.

Where we left off Tony had in the previous chapter kissed Bruce and subsequently pushed him too far. I recommend re-reading but that's just what I would do. It's obviously not mandatory.

Chapter 6: And Bruce was alone.

Clint was already asleep in his bed when he got a call from Bruce that night. The groggy blonde could hear even over the phone that something had shaken up the town doctor but all Bruce would say was that he needed a ride. So it was after midnight that Clint got up and dressed without any explanation other than his friend needed a ride and he could tell he was upset.

It was a few minutes later that he pulled up to a street a couple blocks away from Memento Vivere.

Bruce got into the car wordlessly, looking like he had just left a funeral. His eyes were cloudy and his face drawn in an expression that resembled internal anguish.

Clint got halfway to their houses before he asked, "So what happened?"

Bruce shook his head, unable to put into words what had just happened.

The corner of Clint's mouth pulled down into a small frown. He wasn't stupid, the fact that he had picked Bruce up only a few blocks short of Memento Vivere didn't go unnoticed to him.

If Tony did anything he'd...

But a quick glance at his frazzled friend was enough to bate his temper. There was more to this story...

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That night Clint wasn't the only one to have their sleep interrupted...

Half an hour and a lot of fretting later Tony stood rigid on the painted gray wooden front porch. He gulped down his trepidation and stepped forward to the door bell and stared at the screen door keeping him out as he waited.

Tony heard the sharp, yet still feminine voice come from the other side as the wooden door opened, "This better be good."

"I messed up Natasha." Tony practically whined the second the redhead was visible. Natasha tied her black robe tight as she rose a single eyebrow at her friend. It wasn't unusual for her to get visits from her friends asking for advice or just confiding in her, but of all of them Tony was the one that did this the least. Usually he had to mess up to colossal proportions for him to come to her...

"I'll start a pot of coffee." Natasha unlocked the door and turned around to head towards the kitchen, expecting Tony to let himself in and shut the door behind himself, which he did.

Once both were sitting down with a hot mug of coffee in their hands Natasha finally gave Tony the cue to start, "What happened?"

Tony looked downright ashamed as he frowned at his mug. He hadn't even taken a sip yet, a very clear indicator of his mental state.

"Despite what everyone says I can't read minds Tony. I won't know unless you tell me."

"I know." Tony refused to make eye contact with her, instead choosing to stare a hole into her carpet, "I just..." his sentence trailed off.

After Natasha was sure he wasn't going to pick that sentence back up she inquired, "Is this about Bruce?"

That got Tony to look at her. And one look in his eyes was enough to tell her Yes, this was about Bruce.

"What happened?" she queried.

A small pause before she actually saw Tony's cheeks color.

A second later he mumbled something that sounded vaguely like "I kissed him" but she couldn't be sure.

"Excuse me?"

"I kissed Bruce okay?" Tony erupted, "I kissed him and he yelled at me and I effed up big time Tasha." But despite Tony's outburst Natasha remained completely unperturbed.

"What'd he say?" she questioned calmly.

"I don't know." Tony raked his hand through his hair as he recalled all the things they'd said. "It didn't really make sense."

"Just try to remember." she requested.

"He..." Tony scrunched up his forehead as he thought, "He said something about not wanting to 'go through that again' then he said something about it not being worth the pain and..." he paused as if frozen.

Natasha waited patiently, knowing this next sentence was going to come out without her prompting.

"He said he killed someone I think, or that it was his fault someone was dead. I don't know. I was kind of too angry to really listen at that point. Oh God, I yelled at him."

Natasha felt her eyebrows draw together at those last sentences.

"Bruce said he killed someone?" She had already determined that there was something wrong with that sentence. It was fairly often in her profession that she saw people take full blame for a death they felt they could have avoided. A majority of the time it was survivor's guilt, sometimes it was more complicated but similar.

"No." Tony quickly rejected that, then added, "He said he loved someone and because of him they're dead."

Natasha nodded at this, "So he pushed you away because of this?"

"I think so..." Tony frowned, worry in his dark brown eyes where it usually wasn't, "I really screwed up. He was warning me and I just kept pushing him, I was so sure that he was just being shy or...I don't know." he planted his face in his hands, "I shouldn't have pushed him. I don't know how to fix this Natasha."

Natasha put her hand on Tony's back comfortingly and stroked up and down. It was rare for her to initiate contact but not unheard of. She could tell Tony needed it though. Tony wouldn't say it out loud but she was better at comforting him than any of their other friends. He felt his muscles slowly relax under her small hands.

She only spoke up once she was sure his thoughts were soothed enough for him to hear her, "I know it doesn't sound very helpful but you need to talk to Bruce."

A loud groan came from the bartender.

"What would I even say?" Tony sounded completely deflated.

"Maybe start off with an apology." Natasha was always quick to pull off the Band-Aid, her voice softened a little after that, "Then if he'll still hear you, ask him what you can do to fix it and get back to where you were."

"But I don't want to just be friends Tasha." There was the line she knew was coming.

"Tony..." she touched his chin just enough to get him to look her in the eyes instead of staring at the floor, "He may not be ready to be more than friends. I don't know what happened in his life before but it sounds like he's hurting right now for whatever reason and is hesitant to step into a relationship. He needs a friend right now. And it's your job to be his friend until he's ready to have you as anything more."

Tony could never argue with Natasha's logic.

He nodded his agreement before voicing his fears in barely a whisper, "What if he hates me?"

"He won't." Natasha answered reassuringly with no doubt in her voice.

"How do you know?" Tony moped.

"Because it's not Bruce. He doesn't hate people. He'll forgive you."

They sat there for a few minutes more in silence.

Tony stared at the untouched mug in his hands for a moment more before taking his first sip. The first sign that he was feeling better, calmer.

"Thanks Tasha." Tony's soft voice was sincere.

"No problem Tony." Natasha's own voice matched his.

"Now Tony?"

"Yeah?"

"Get out so that I can go back to sleep."

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There was more to the story than Bruce just needing a ride, but Clint didn't have it in him to push the obviously distressed doctor. So he set his sights on Tony to get the story.

So with that purpose he arrived at Memento Vivere's two hours before it's opening.

He knocked on the double door before pushing it open without waiting for a response. He found Tony very much in the same state he'd seen Bruce in last night and knew he had come to the right place.

Clint approached the other man and took a stool at the bar where he could see Tony's distressed face up close.

"Hey." Clint started. The single word was enough to rattle Tony out of his trance, his distressed expression instantly replaced by surprise.

"Clint?" he didn't try to hide his surprise at his friend's sudden appearance, "What are you doing here?"

"I picked Bruce up two blocks away from here last night." Clint deadpanned, gauging Tony's response. Understanding instantly came over the brunette's face, followed by a crestfallen expression.

"Oh." the bartender intoned.

"Yeah." Clint clipped curtly.

"What'd he say?" Tony asked in a timorous voice.

"He didn't," Clint felt odd seeing Tony in this condition, something had definitely happened. "I came to you to get the story."

"Can't you just ask Natasha?" Tony's sullen voice was disconcerting to Clint. Then something he said hit him.

"Shit, you went to Tasha?" Everyone knew Tony only did that when he really screwed up. "What exactly did you do?"

Tony turned his face away, sulking.

A vein in Clint's neck twitched as he clenched his jaw in an effort to not snap at Tony.

"I..." Tony mumbled something into his hand but Clint could only catch the beginning.

"Did you pull this same shit with Tasha?" Clint sighed exasperatedly, there was no way she was happy with him coming over at God-knows-what-hour so he could mumble into his hand.

"I said I kissed him," Tony answered almost peevishly, "Why is everyone's hearing so bad? Old man."

"I'm going to ignore that last comment." Clint declared rather maturely before he considered the impact of Tony's words. It was a surprise to say the least. Sure Tony flirted with anyone breathing but Clint couldn't recall a single time the so called player had actually kissed anyone, let alone a guy.

"So I'm guessing that didn't go well." Clint propped his head onto the palm of his hand as he looked across at his old friend. Sure Tony could be a flirt sometimes but he was apparently a sincere flirt this time. Now that he actually looked he could see the remorse in his friend's eyes paired with heartbreak he couldn't identify before. Tony sighed and supported his upper body on the scarred wood with his arms.

"That's an understatement." Tony exhaled the sentence, just glad the anger in Clint's eyes had eased up. "I still need to talk to him."

Clint nodded his head, understanding the situation a little better now.

The metal stool legs scrapped across the hard wooden floor as he stood, "Something tells me he's not going to be in the mood to listen." Clint voiced Tony's fear aloud.

He could literally see the second that the words hit Tony by the way the bartender's shoulders hunched pitifully, like a child trying to make themselves smaller.

He wasn't happy that Bruce was so perturbed but on that same note he could sympathize with Tony.

And he'd never admit it out loud but he didn't disapprove of Tony being with Bruce. Maybe Bruce wasn't ready for it yet for whatever reason but he personally thought that it'd be good for the town recluse.

"Alright." Clint reached across the counter and patted Tony's shoulder, "I gotta go but good luck."

Tony scoffed, "Thanks. I'll need it."

Clint chuckled and chirped optimistically, "You'll be fine" before turning around and leaving.

"Why does everyone keep telling me that?" Tony's voice drifted through the empty restaurant.

It certainly didn't feel that way to him...

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Winnie was admittedly old, however very little got past her. She was hardly decrepit, she was just as sharp as she had been forty years ago. So when she walked into the doctor's office that day just before noon she didn't miss the definite mood shift since yesterday.

Her doctor, she also liked to think of him as a friend, was sitting despondently in his rolling chair looking at nothing in particular when she came in. Even once she announced herself it was clear he was distracted. His eyes continually unfocused and drifted off between their exchanges.

Unfortunately for Bruce, Winnie was hardly known for keeping silent, "Oh for Pete's sake, what is it this time?" She asked. Honestly, she thought, young people these days had such moods.

"Mm?" Bruce's doe brown eyes lifted from his papers, which he was unsuccessfully reading anyway, to meet her steely blue orbs. He felt disorientated still from last night and despite everything, even despite his anger, he couldn't help but think it was odd to not see Tony.

"I haven't seen that other boy around here today yet either." Winnie continued on, not really meaning anything by it, just making an observation.

Of course Bruce had noticed too, Tony hadn't come to breakfast, not that he expected him to after last night.

And just the mention of Tony was enough for Bruce to feel his cheeks color upon remembering last night.

"Tony won't be coming around any more," was all Bruce offered in his cold monotone as he attempted to keep the blood out of his cheeks.

"Oh?" Winnie's aged eyes zeroed in on him and Bruce knew that she had caught that there was more to it than that.

"What's this about?" She asked, bending in an attempt to still see Bruce's face after he turned his face away from her, feigning interest in his clipboard.

"I'm old but not blind. Whatever has got your knickers in a twist won't sort itself out."

Bruce looked up from his clipboard at her choice of idiom but gave no other response.

"Not even going to respond anymore eh?" Winnie asked wryly.

"What seems to be the problem today Miss Westbrook?" Bruce gave his most professional smile as he faced her once more.

"You're awfully stubborn for a doctor." Winnie replied, narrowing her eyes ever so slightly at him.

"And you're awfully inquisitive." Bruce replied and was rewarded with Winnie shaking her head resignedly before she listed off the reason she came that day.

Finally while they were wrapping up their session Winnie looked up from her seat and spoke up her mind again, "You're whole life's going to pass you by before you know it if you don't accept others in."

"Very wise advice Miss Westbrook." Bruce observed dispassionately.

"I don't see what the problem is, was whatever you fought over really worth losing a friend over?"

Winnie slid off the seat and stood. Her eyes surveyed over Bruce and she shook her head sadly and made a noise before she stepped past him and towards the exit.

Bruce stepped to his desk seat and fell into his seat like he was in shell shock. His mind was violently rolling and it felt like the safety blanket had just been ripped from him. That old woman might have better eyesight than he thought. He buried his face in his hands and rubbed at his temples.

Bruce heard the reliable creak of the floorboards and thought it was Winnie leaving.

A moment later knuckles rapped on the door.

Bruce lifted his face from his hands fully expecting to find Winnie back for something or maybe Clint standing in his doorway with that questioning expression from last night. Instead he was greeted with easy syrup brown eyes and chaotic black hair.

"Any reason that old lady just wished me good luck on my way in?" Tony pointed over his shoulder with a bewildered expression on his face.

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Tony tried coming by Bruce's a few hours before the lunch rush. It was early enough that he wouldn't feel guilty leaving Pepper in charge again.

Making it to Bruce's house was the easy part, however once there he began to waver.

Tony wasn't known for being hesitant, in fact he was usually thought of as too impulsive. Yet there he stood staring at Bruce's house, just a few steps short of even the front porch.

He kept thinking of that look Bruce had given him when he'd smacked his hand away. Those burning brown eyes that were usually so meek looked at him as if he could just curl up and die and Bruce wouldn't care one iota.

Tony steeled his resolve and stepped up to the front door.

But what if Bruce was still angry?

Maybe he should try again later after all...

But before he could pace to his car and back again for the umpteenth time he heard the soft creek of the wood by the front door.

Shit, shit, shit. He hadn't prepared himself mentally yet. He didn't know what to-

Tony blinked once he saw who was exiting the house.

"Winnie?" the handy-bartender had never felt more relieved in his life.

"Are you going to continue to sulk out here all day?" Winnie asked once she was on the front porch.

"Ah..." Tony glanced at the closed curtain that he knew led to Bruce's office.

"Is Bruce..." Mad? Tony couldn't ask that out loud though, "Does he know I'm out here?"

"I don't know how he couldn't. Boys been out of it all day though." she gave Tony a suspicious look with her aged eyes, "That wouldn't happen to be your fault would it?"

"It most likely is." Tony admitted.

Winnie nodded as if she figured as much, "That explains why you're pacing around like an expectant father." Her steely blue eyes locked with his, "What did you do to get him so upset with you?"

"Uh-" There was just some things even Tony Stark couldn't say. Telling an elderly woman he'd made an advance on another man was one of those things.

"I did something stupid and we fought is all." Tony rubbed at the back of his neck nervously, wondering if he could get away with that.

She didn't seem annoyed by his complete lack of details, just slightly inconvenienced as she rolled her pale blue eyes behind her glasses.

"Well, good luck" Winnie began slowly in the direction of her car, "you'll need it with him."

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"What do you want?" Bruce forced himself to sound detached, instead of defensive. He wanted to be in control of his emotions, but there were so many swirling around and confusing him. Detached was the safest.

Despite being able to keep his voice detached Bruce's eyes spoke a different story. He stood with unwavering cold eyes trained on the man taking up his doorway space. The ice sheets taking residence in his brown orbs were spear-sharp and ready to defend from further hurt.

Suddenly the gears in Tony's brain ground to a halt. Tony had come here with a list of things to say—they were all instantly forgotten now that he was actually in front of Bruce.

"I..." Bruce watched as Tony searched for something to say. He gave the other man a few solid tics of the clock before he spoke up.

"If you don't have anything to say, I am busy."

His voice had finality in it. He turned his back to the other man and began busying himself with patient sheets, hoping Tony would just give him room.

"Bruce..." Tony seemed to finally find his words, "I, I just came by to say I pushed it. I pushed you." Tony wasn't expecting Bruce to turn around but it would have been nice. Tony didn't let that deter him however.

"I—I know I did something that you..." Tony took a moment to think about his next words carefully, "wish I hadn't done, and seeing your reaction...I know I messed up Bruce."

Tony actually took a shuddering breath in, "I am sorry Bruce. I want us to be able to go back to being friends if your willing to forgive me."

Bruce was glad he had his back to the other man. It was much easier to control his voice than his expression. Bruce took a breath in, closed his eyes, exhaled quietly.

"I want to be alone."

"Bruce I..." Just hearing Tony's voice Bruce could imagine the deflated look on the other man's face. He could practically hear the heartbreak.

"I'm not mad Tony," Bruce refused to look at him even as his voice softened, "Can you please just leave though?"

Bruce heard a bracing intake of breath from the other man. He knew Tony wanted to say something, maybe argue against leaving.

Bruce didn't give him the chance, "I need time." Bruce didn't think that was too much to ask for. Time. Time to think, time to get his thoughts back to normal, time to think about himself.
"Yeah, okay."

Then there was the sound of footsteps, a soft creak, and silence.

And Bruce was alone.

Can I just say-I know that Winnie isn't from Avengers and that she isn't a Marvel character, but I just love her personally. I really hope to hear from you guys, I really do read all the comments and even respond when I feel compelled to.

Chapter 7 will be posted when I finish it.