A/N: ha, bet you didn't think this was ever gonna update, huh? Well guess what, it's updated, and also as fast as I could manage - meaning I have just finished rereading and editing it for the first and last time, and not twenty-first like it usually takes me. So there.

Thank Him Later

Tony lifted his eyes up from the sheet of paper he was holding.

"Is this why you've called me, Rogers? Is this why I've flown all the way from Malibu, though I can't complain, really, first class is first class, and there was this one stewardess with the…"

"No one cares, Stark," Clint interrupted, staring pointedly at the ceiling as if to emphasize just how bored he was. "It's a job, and a great one at that."

"Yeah, also an impossible one," Tony scoffed.

Steve's face was as resolute as ever though. "Inception is possible."

"Have you ever heard of a successful one?"

"Cobb's team…"

"Is an urban legend. Like crocodiles in the sewers, and justice for all. And I'm not going on a fool's errand for…"

"Odinson family funding?" Natasha's sweet voice chimed in from where she was standing by the window.

"What?"

Steve just nodded. "Our client is Thor Odinson, the heir. He wants to make peace with his brother. Says he has tried out all the options before resorting to the dream invasion."

Natasha smiled that crooked little smile of hers as she stepped closer to Tony, a smile that always meant trouble. "This idea of inception is very important to him," she said. "He will spare any cost on it. Think about it, Tony. Any cost. All your dream-tech? Could become a reality with this kind of funding. You can even hire some of those monster shark lawyers and sick them at Stane to get your dad's company back…"

The look of contemplation on Tony's face fooled no-one. They knew he was in now, and just waited for him to start a sarcastic, but half-hearted argument that will end in him gracefully "humoring" them, simply for the sake of being difficult.

But what he actually said was: "We'll need a chemist. Extra-class one."

Steve's look of surprise matched that of the others in the room – no-one expected the other man to agree so… painlessly. Perhaps they have underestimated just how serious Tony's problems with Stane were. "Yes, we have thought about it. Natasha has compiled a list…"

"Banner," Tony said at once, with unexpected hardness to his voice.

"Not Banner," Natasha retaliated just as quickly.

The man did not buckle. "We need a compound strong enough for a multi-layered dream, yet sensitive enough that we could all exit it from however deep we're in, and also a chemist experienced enough to go with us and hold their own once inside. We need Banner."

Natasha's expression was cold as a blizzard, and her fingers slowly curled into fists, and Steve rushed in to change the topic before things went ugly. "He is not the only specialist out there with a qualification level we need, and you know it. Killian…"

"That hack? No way in hell," Tony said, not missing a bit. His eyes were still on Natasha, as if waiting, daring for her to strike. "Cuban sleep dust is more reliable than his brews. Really now, it's an important job, we need a real thing here."

"All right, maybe not him. But Maya Hanson…"

"…is in jail. Haven't you heard? Just the other day… Got in with the bad kids, you know how it goes. Very messy."

"Samuel Sterns…"

"Yeah, no, here's definitely the guy that should be in jail," Tony said, turning to look pointedly at Steve. "He's a psychopath! Do you remember what his stuff did to Blonsky?"

"Do you remember what Banner did to me?" Natasha replied in a quiet, dangerous tone of a predator readying before an attack.

"That was not his intention and you know it, he's just…"

"…not in control of himself!" Clint exclaimed with poorly faked cheer, as if he was just waiting for the other man to use that line. "Yeah, that's the problem, Tony. His dreamscape is gonna be one big landmine, and who knows if he will be able to actually help us."

"He will."

Steve suppressed a long-suffering sigh. He wanted to avoid this very scenario from the moment he called to ask for Stark's help, but now realized it was too much to hope for. "Tony, I understand you are trying to look out for your friend," he began in the most patient and calm tone he could manage, "and you know I tend to trust you on these things, but Dr. Banner has really put the New York job at great risk, to put it lightly. You may be angry about it now, but believe me, you will thank me later when…"

"Yeah, that'd be a cold day in hell."

"We need a specialist we can trust…"

"I trust him," Tony said quickly, with a level of devotion that never seized to amaze Steve in the man that was more often than not an epitome of caprice.

Natasha did not seem so impressed though. "I don't. He is hopelessly addicted to the sedatives, and has little to no control of his subconscious. He may brew our compound, Tony, but he will not go with us."

"He has to. He's the only one who can bring the knowledge of the compound into the dream with him. And since I've just debunked all of your other candidates…"

"That does not mean…"

"He's unstable, Stark. Dangerous. Fucking face it already," Clint said, a dark expression on his face, and Steve was suddenly reminded of the cityscape around them crumbling into suffocating dust, the very fabric of the dream turning on them, the twisted, deranged projections swarming around Natasha and tearing her apart... He could never quite look the same at Dr. Banner after that day.

But now it was Tony's face that was darkening. "You wanna talk about dangerous, Barton? Wanna talk about jobs gone wrong?" he whipped around at that, throwing an accusing, bitter glare at Steve. "Remember the Sitwell extraction? You haven't told them that it were not the projections that almost ruined the whole thing, have you? That it was a projection, a projection of your buddy Barnes that…"

"That's enough, Tony," Steve cut off, taking a step backwards without quite realizing it.

"A projection that you brought with you, Rogers," Tony pressed on. "That's one of the most dangerous things you can do in our business, and you know it. So don't talk 'dangerous' to me."

"Steve? Is that true?" Natasha asked softly.

Steve clenched his teeth, glaring right back at Stark. "Yes. It is."

"You should have told us."

"Yes. I should have." He tried to restrain himself and not let more emotion slip, because unlike Stark he knew that giving in to temptation to argue right now will only allow the whole vitriolic mess to escalate further. Someone had to be the better man, and Steve would take up ballet on the day that Stark decided to fill the role. Besides… there was something that rang painfully true in the other man's words, and Steve would rather not twist that knife any more right now. So he closed his eyes, and gave a tired sigh. "Can you vouch for him, Tony?"

It didn't help that Stark's expression in that moment could be best summed up as 'about time, Rogers'.

"Yes."

"That's ridiculous," Clint shook his head, running a hand through his hair. "I bet Banner wouldn't vouch for himself right now."

"Well, it's a good thing then that he didn't ask for Banner's word," Tony sneered in reply. "He asked for mine."

It was Steve's turn to shake head now. "And I have a feeling I will regret it, but… He's in, if he even agrees. Will you be able to work with him, Natasha?"

Her eyes could probably freeze a lesser man right now, but her voice was calm and pleasant. "I'm a professional," she said simply. "I can work with anything."

"Thank you," Steve sighed again. "Now, if this is out of the way, we really need to talk strategy and idea simplification…"

Tony was already half way to the door though, taking a phone out of his jacket. "Start without me. I have a call to make."

"We really need you for strategizing, Tony…"

"Yeah, and I really need a glass of scotch, we all have our struggles. Go on. I'll be back for the really important parts."

/

Tony waited through at least seven rings, but when the phone's been finally picked up, the voice on the other end was clear and alert.

"Yes?"

"Why are you not asleep? It has to be the middle of the night where you are."

"Have you called me expecting I would be asleep?"

"No, I called you hoping you would be asleep, but expecting you wouldn't."

"That… makes sense. I guess," Banner said in that tired, but vaguely amused tone he inevitably adopted in every conversation he had with Tony.

"So why aren't you?" Tony asked as he walked slowly away from the apartment that Rogers has decided to hold the meeting in. After all, Barton was right. Banner would never fucking vouch for himself, and getting him to agree to the job would be much harder then he made it seem, but he'd be damned if he let the others know that.

"Working, Tony. There's a lot of work here. What do you need?"

"Need? Can't I ever call you just because I want to chat or something?"

"Of course you can. It's just that you never do."

"Hey, I'm a busy man."

"I know, Tony," there was a heavy sigh from the other man, and a rustling sound, like the shifting of papers. "That was not a reproach, merely an observation."

"Anyway, I am, uh, really calling you in business. Have a job for you."

"You're working with Captain's team again?"

Tony chuckled. "It physically pains me to admit it, but he and his are, indeed, some of the best in the business. With my help, of course."

"Of course."

"It's a good job. A great one. Multi-layered dream, at least three levels, six participants – can you brew something for that?"

"Yyyeah, I think so, Tony," Banner drawled out in a distracted tone that meant he was already going through formulas in his head. "I will need to check my supplies, but it is… doable. What do you need three levels for – childhood trauma extraction? No corporate secrets lie that deep."

"No, it's an… It's an inception," Tony replied carefully. "We're doing it."

"I thought you believed it to be a fairytale."

"Well, it better not be, for the money it'll pay us. Still. You in?"

"Sure. Send in the specifics, and I'll mail it to you as soon as it's done. Unless you want me to come to you and supervise the immersion?"

"Yeah, you better catch a flight here. 'Cause, uh, those six participants I mentioned? You're gonna have to be one of them," Tony said as lightly as he could, while bracing himself for the impact. Banner was the most levelheaded person he knew, but when he blew up it was destructive.

Instead, there was just heavy silence on the other end of the line, and then dull, quiet "…Out of the question."

"Okay, now, I knew you'd say that…"

"…and so you must know why I did it." Banner's voice went down to a forceful whisper now, a sign of a rushed attempt to control his emotions. "Christ, Tony, don't you remember what happened last time? Exactly how fast has Ms. Romanoff snapped at you at mentioning my name?"

"Pretty fast."

"Well here's your answer then."

"Hey, I talked them into it," Tony parried with ease. "Even Romanoff. I gave them my word…"

"What right did you have?"

Tony stopped and pressed his back to the wall of the building he was walking by. His free hand went up to rub at his eyes without him even thinking about it. Admittedly, giving his word like that for another person was not a great thing to do. Especially to Banner, of all people, who already had industrial-level trust issues. But fuck him sideways if he thought Tony would just fucking stand there and… "We've had this talk already, haven't we?" he sighed in exasperation. "It wasn't your fault, it's called 'subconscious' for a reason, and hey, everyone's got out alive, right? It was just an accident…"

"It was a fucking nightmare," Banner ground out through clenched teeth, barely audible. "That thing… that thing that was me… And you're asking me to go back? For what – money?"

"An awful lot of money," Tony tried to joke, but already knew it will fall on deaf ears.

"You can't ask that of me, Tony, you have no right."

Tony resisted the urge to sigh again. Now he would press, of course, they both knew how all of their arguments ended, and it would have been naїve of Banner to expect this one to go any different. After all, Banner was too polite to hang up on his friend in the middle of a conversation, and Tony was too stubborn to let go of what he considered to be a sure thing until he got his way. If all else failed, he could simply guilt the other man into doing what he wanted – Banner was ridiculously susceptible to guilt-tripping, and not in a funny way either. And yes, he may be hurt or angry now, but he will forgive Tony afterwards, just like he always does, and even thank him later, when…

For some reason, that last thought stood out to him. For some reason, it made his stomach churn.

"I don't, do I?" he said to no-one in particular. What the hell was wrong with him? He hated it when people thought they knew what was best for him, even if they were right, sometimes because of it. In this light, the thought of roping Banner into this mess did not only seem unappealing, it was sickening, cruel. And the money… He'll get the money some other way. There had to be some things that were just more valuable, right? Right? "Look, buddy, forget all about it," he tried to adapt that light carefree tone again, and was himself surprised at how easily it came. "Let's start over. Hi, it's me, Tony. How are you doing there?"

It seemed that Banner was taken aback by the sudden change too, but willing to let it slide. "It's, uh, fine… Fine. The clinic runs smoothly, I've even got some help now. People come from all over, there's… not many such places in this country." He sounded even more tired now somehow, but also, in a way, content. It was the first time Tony heard Banner content after that Army disaster that took Betty away from him.

He wanted to say something uplifting and encouraging, but all that's come out was a tepid "That's great, buddy."

For Banner though apparently that was enough. His next words were even softer, like he was afraid of being overheard, but also tinged with pride. "I've, uh… I've reduced the sedative dosages to a minimum now."

"Already?" Tony frowned. "Wasn't it at least another month by your schedule?"

"I think I can handle it. I… I'm not sure, it was all very blurry, but I think… I think I saw a dream two nights ago. Without the dose."

"What? Wait, I thought it… with your amount of dream exposure it's not… possible, is it?"

"No, it's not. But… I don't know, as I said, it's all very hazy now. I still need to get off the needle properly, then I… then I'll think about it. But… yeah."

It was the risk many people in their field took. When you regularly take a drug to enter someone else's dream, eventually you can't have even your own without it. And you can't live without dreams. Not in a poetic or a metaphorical sense either, but in the most physical way possible: it corrodes your brain bit by bit, until there's nothing left. There are machines, of course, and substances that can induce dreaming in a defective body, something Banner has relied on to survive for quite some time, but that… if that was true…

"Can you… can you even afford to go in anymore?" Tony found himself asking, incredulous. "Will it upset your recovery?"

"I, uh… don't know. If it's under one of my compounds then maybe not, I've changed the base rather significantly from the classics." His voice turned from speculative to stern then. "But I'm still not doing it, Tony."

"Sure, sure," Tony agreed simply. "Look, I was wrong, okay? Really, it's… no amount of money is worth it. I wasn't thinking."

There was a pause on the other end, and Banner's tone after it was strange and nothing Tony could quite decipher. "Exactly… how much money are we talking about here?" the man asked slowly.

"Seven zeroes," Tony readily replied. "The client is an Odinson. You know – Norwegian energy magnates? The thing is super important to him for some reason."

"Tony, how… How's your suit going?" again in that strange, slightly detached tone.

"Suit?" Tony blinked in confusion. "Ah, the lawsuit, yeah, uh… slow, slow I guess. Stane's, uh… applied another bullshit delaying tactic, something about how there may be a newer will that recognizes his rights to the company as opposed to mine. I mean, it's such an obvious load of crap, because everyone who knew Dad could say he was an ass, but not that much of an ass, but... Yeah, whatever, the appeal still was – surprise, surprise – successful, and so it all drags out again, and I'm paying those idiots to basically show up in court and make laughing stocks of themselves, and it's…" he paused for breath, and only then noticed the still silence of his friend. "Hey, are you there, man?"

"Have you tried…" the man on the other end sounded like he picked each word with utmost precision and care, "Aldrich Killian, I heard he's a, well, decent chemist…"

Tony was nonplussed at the sudden change of topic, but decided to go along all the same. "He is, I guess," he agreed with obvious reluctance.

"But?.."

"But he hit on Pepper last time we met. And he's, you know… Leery. And pretentious. I just can't stand him." As far as excuses went, this sounded pretty weak even to Tony's own ears, but thankfully Banner decided not to focus on it.

"What about Maya Hanson? You can't deny she's a prodigy."

"Yeah, no question there. I saw her for a drink yesterday, she's just finished a job, we talked… She reminds me of myself so much."

"Is that a bad thing?"

"She reminds me of myself before Stane's double-crossed me," Tony closed his eyes and rested his head on the wall. "A lot of… rationalizations and shady projects. She's going down, just like I was. She's gonna slip one of these days, and she's gonna get caught, and I don't want to be anywhere near her when it happens."

"Shit. I'd say Sterns, but…"

"Yeah, no."

Tony opened his eyes and looked down the street, where the sun was hanging low over the horizon, red and gold. That meeting with Maya shook him, more than he was willing to admit even to himself. And what twisted him the most was just how helpless he felt sitting there, seeing her firmly on the road to crush and burn, but being unable to help her. He was just not that kind of person. Pepper was, as was Rhodey, and Banner – those people always seemed to know the right thing to do, the right thing to say and…

"I'll do it, Tony."

That startled Tony right out of his reverie. "What? Why?" he pressed the phone harder to his ear as he frantically went over their conversation, trying to find something big and scary enough to change Banner's decision so drastically. One thing in particular came to mind then. "Because… because of the shit I said about my suit? Come on, Banner, that's ridiculous. Don't fucking do it just because you think I need the money…"

"Don't you?"

"Of course n-"

"The truth, Tony."

"Fine!" He threw his free hand in the air in exasperation. "I may need it. It may be my golden ticket. Who knows? Jesus, you can be worse than Rhodey sometimes. But you're not doing this for me, Banner, you hear me? You're not doing me a favor…"

"Everything's always about you, isn't it?" he heard Banner chuckle in mock reproach.

"Fuck you, Banner."

The chuckling stopped. "I live in a shack, you know. In India." There were the shuffling noises again, and Banner's voice sounded so distant and muffled that Tony had to strain his hearing to catch the words. "After the… incident with the Army they've made sure no respectable company in the world would hire me. The clinic is good work, but not a good pay. My only chance at income is to work with freelancers like you, and people who'd trust me are few and far between. I want some stability. If… when I get better, when I take Betty out of the hospital, I want to have a good job and a home. With her." Tony could hear the smile in the last words. "I want to work at Stark Industries."

There was something scratching at Tony's throat, so he tried to swallow it, but the feeling did not go away. The sun was more red than gold now, almost gone. Banner was one of those people who always knew the right thing to say.

"Thank you, Bruce."

"For what?"

Tony couldn't keep from laughing at Banner's attempts at sounding innocent. The laughter died on his lips the next moment though, as he clutched at the phone with all his strength. "I'll keep an eye on you," he said with confidence that never failed to produce a slightly startled expression on Rogers's face. "I'll make sure. Nothing will go wrong."

"That's not how these things work, and you know it." Banner's voice was now barely audible, and infinitely tired. "Send me the details and terms. I'll be there."

Tony put his phone away, and threw a glance to the west once more before heading back to the team's apartment.

The sun blazed with its last, bright green ray, and went away for the night.

A/N: I actually enjoyed writing it, so I really do hope you at least did not hate reading it, and please leave a comment if you are inclined. That would make my day.