Here is some more. I've got the next section started and I actually mapped out the rest of this fic. Yay!
Hopefully, the other fics I've been reading (which have been seriously kicking the living crap outta my feels) won't get in the way of the next chapter (which should be pretty awesome.)
I'm also going to update the about bit.
Warnings for Stark Mouth, Clint Ass, Bruce Paranoia and whatever else I might coin as a warning. I don't own any of these fantastic characters.
For Science!
As soon as the door clicked shut behind Natasha, Tony tensed right back up and asked, "Really, are you okay?"
"Yeah, Tasha calmed me down." Bruce nodded as he rolled up his mat.
"I ran into Barton and he told me what he said to you," Tony spoke harshly. "I gave him a bloody nose for it." He smirked.
Bruce took slight satisfaction in that mental image, though he was a little surprised. Even when fighting with Steve, he'd rarely seen Tony throw a punch. Suspicion that this cheery mood of Stark's was just a mask crept up on Bruce. With a slight hesitation, he asked, "Are you okay, Tony?"
The smile that answered him was too warm to doubt. "Sure, so long as Barton knows when to keep his damn mouth shut. No one gets to trash talk the smartest man on the team without dealing with me."
In an instant he immediately regretted, Barton's "too narcissistic for that" replayed in his head. Bruce shoved his rolled up mat back in the corner and turned back to Tony with a begrudging smile. "No, wouldn't want to do that, would we."
Confusion crossed Tony's face but he quickly shook it off. "So did you manage to get anything out of either of them about what was wrong with Barton? Aside from him being an ass?"
Bruce shook his head. "Not anything specific. Although, I'm pretty sure it had nothing to do with Shield. Clint's been avoiding Tasha and, though she seemed surprised that I knew about this morning, it sounded like it was just business as usual. She's ticked with Barton too, so it's probably just the two of them still sorting each other out."
"Well, they need to sort it faster. I've got no patience for this crap."
Damn, hadn't counted on him to actually throw a punch. In front of his bathroom mirror, Clint ran water over a wash cloth, blood tinting the water pink. Stark hadn't hit him hard enough to break his nose but that had more to do with Barton's reflexes than anything else.
He didn't hear her approach but Clint caught Natasha's movement out of the corner of his eyes. "Come out of hiding finally?"
She stepped to his side and took the wash cloth, wiping at a streak of blood on his chin. "You mean you didn't send the Hulk to scare me out?"
"Shit!" Panic ripped through him and he swung around to face her, inspecting for injury. "Bruce didn't actually Hulk out, did he?"
Deadpanned, Natasha answered, "Yes, Clint, that's why I casually strolled in here, unscathed, to clean up the mess Stark made of your face."
The tension left as quickly as it came and Clint let out a heavy breath. "How did you know it was Tony?"
"Lucky guess. Seriously though, Bruce was close. I was able to talk him down but it coulda gone south real easy. What the hell were you thinking?"
Clint glared, snatching back the bloody cloth and returned to the mirror. "You first, Nat. First you're toting around that tranq and then you go off the map all day, not to mention your seemingly off the record chitchat with the director this morning. What's going on?"
Natasha paused, sighed and finally pulled out a slim camera. As she pushed buttons on the device, she explained, "I've been keeping an eye on Stark for a couple months now. Between conversations with Potts and this-" She held up the camera to reveal a picture of Pepper, her lips planted firmly on Happy Hogan's.
Well, that explains what Bruce was so defensive about.
"I knew we could have a serious problem on our hands. If Stark relapsed, took the suit out under the influence, the Avengers would be held responsible." Her voice softened when she added, "And Tony would never forgive himself if he hurt someone while he was like that."
Going somber again, Natasha continued, "You were avoiding me and Steve's too direct. He woulda wanted to tackle this head on, force Stark into AA or something. We both know that'd only blow up in all our faces, so I handled it on my own. At least, I tried. Two nights ago, Stark took the suit out after he's been drinking all day. He kept on target with Hydra but nearly got himself killed. I arranged to meet with Fury as soon as possible because I sure as hell wasn't trusting Hill to handle this. Shield had no record of this assignment anyway."
Of course, another off the books mission for the Widow. Clint kept his disapproval to himself, not wanting to add that to their argument. Instead, he played like he didn't know and asked, "But what's this got to do with Bruce and the tranq?"
Natasha pushed another couple buttons on the phone. "While I waited on Fury, Banner took matters into his own hands." She held up the camera again, scrolling through images of Tony and Bruce: Bruce discovering Stark in the broken Iron Man suit; the Hulk ripping the suit off; Banner practically carrying him back into the building; the doctor stitching him back up; the pair shouting at each other; Bruce going green; both taking drink after drink from a flask; both completely solemn. She flashed through the images so quickly that anyone else would have been lost, but Barton registered each photo, processing the scene each presented, calculating the risk almost as quickly as Natasha could.
The last image caught Clint off guard, despite his earlier suspicions. When Tony slept, it was fitful and involved a mess of blanket and sheet tangled around him and pillows on the floor. When Bruce slept, it was always light and panicky, like he was faking it, ready to run at a moment's notice. The image he faced showed a completely different story. It couldn't have been comfortable, two grown men sharing that couch, but if either were cramped, they weren't showing it. Clint had never seen either of them so peaceful, so content.
It made Clint miss nights when he and Natasha slept like that.
After returning to their work, Bruce kept his distance but Tony started right back in. He kept invading Bruce's space, despite the doctor not responding in kind. He kept bragging about Clint's face and what he was going to do if Clint tried to talk like that again. Finally, Bruce had enough, rolled his eyes and told Stark to knock it off.
"What is your problem?" Tony asked, his face contorted with confusion.
"I'm sick of the ego, alright? I know it's just another suit of armor to hide behind and I've seen you unarmed, so please, stop faking it," Bruce pleaded, wanting anything to confirm that Tony remembered opening up to him the other night.
"Ego? I'm pissed at Clint because of what he said to you. What's that got to do with my ego? I mean, yeah, I hit him pretty hard and I guess bragging about kicking a master assassin's ass is a little cocky, even for me, but he deserves it. He had no right to talk to you like that."
Incredulous, Bruce asked, "You're kidding, right?"
The gears started turning in Tony's head and after a moment, he asked, "Bruce, what did Barton say to you?"
What did he- Oh! Bruce's thoughts stopped dead when he reached the same point Tony had. "He was just trying to bait us."
"God damn spies," Tony muttered. They both stood awkwardly for a moment before Tony asked again, "So, what did he really say to make you so angry?"
Bruce's face went flushed and red. He stammered, "He uh- he had asked if I knew why you'd been so down for the past few weeks. I didn't give him anything specific but I told him we probably wouldn't be seeing Pepper for a while. He started in on how you deserved it. I thought he was just being Clint at first but when I said that you loved her-" Bruce paused. "He uh- said you were too narcissistic for that."
"Oh," Tony responded, sounding a little surprised.
His mind swimming, Bruce didn't make eye contact. He expected Tony's eyes to be filled with discomfort and rejection. Then it hit him. "What did he say to you?"
Tony swore under his breath before answering, "I should have known better. You wouldn't get so angry over a personal insult."
Bruce glanced up cautiously. "You punched Clint because he insulted me?"
Tony's eyes blazed as they locked onto Banner's, taking him by surprise. "Why are you so damn hard on yourself? I get that I'm an alcoholic and I had been drinking when I said all that the other night, but I meant it Bruce. You're the strongest man I know. You picked me up when I fell. You made me talk. You asked all the right questions. On top of all that, you opened up to me. Do you know how many people have ever done that? How many people have really, completely earned my trust?"
"I just-" Bruce started only to be cut off.
"And you almost lost control because he called me narcissistic? I have text book narcissism, diagnosed by Romanov and everything. That's not a big deal," Tony dismissed.
How could he just blow that off? The anger funneled up inside him again just thinking about it and Bruce demanded in a challenging voice, "Too narcissistic to love?! That's a pretty big deal! You care more about this team and everyone on it than anyone else. You put everything into us, your time, energy, money. You put your business on the line and and your life on the line all the time. Maybe you have more to give than most, but no one else gives as much of what they do have."
Bruce managed to stop himself before getting too personal, but all the other defenses ran through his head. Tony trusted him, made him feel important and even loved.
Tony just smiled. "Is this heart-to-heart going to end with cuddling?"
Bruce hadn't thought his face could get any redder. He was wrong. "Wasn't sure you even remembered that," he managed.
"I wasn't that drunk," Tony insisted with a laugh.
Neither was Bruce, but he kept that to himself.
"Just saying, if it does, can we skip the couch this time?" he asked, his voice almost playful. "It was a little cramped."
"Are you trying to get me in your bed?" Bruce asked before he could stop the words from tumbling out his mouth.
Putting on a winning smile, Tony countered, "Interested?"
Why couldn't he just give a straight answer? Tony was a shameless flirt and Bruce didn't want to screw up their friendship if he came across too interested. Still, maybe he could pass it off as a joke. Willing the blush away and his voice steady, he replied, "Only if you take me to dinner first. I'm a classy guy."
The surprise on Tony's face would have made Bruce laugh if he weren't so afraid, but it vanished quickly enough. "Alright, let's go," he replied with a broad grin and walked to the door.
Bruce stared at the door, shock gluing his feet to the ground. Did he just ask Tony out on a date? And did Tony just agree? Before he could over think it, he broke his legs free and darted out the lab.