Wakanda is impressive, to say the least. If Tony were here, Bruce thinks the man would have run off already to tinker with something or dissect some piece of machinery that isn't supposed to be messed with. But Tony isn't here (in fact, Bruce thinks he's not even on the planet…), so he stops that train of thought immediately.
If the need to deal with Vision weren't so pressing, he would probably try to find a scientist to pose his dozens of questions to. But Vision is literally the matter at hand, so his curiosity can wait.
They are escorted to an empty space in the palace where Vision is laid on a flat table that has some interesting surface structure that Bruce supposes serves some function or other. He honestly doesn't care and is really only focused on answering the (very) young girl's questions once she's finished scanning the android. Shuri? Is that her name? He thinks so.
He watches a holographic structure of Vision's brain hover above her bracelet and the image brings all relevant information to his mind. It's not as if he could forget what he and Tony had done to create Vision. Bruce hadn't been fully on board from the start and will forever be thankful that the situation worked out as it did.
"The structure is polymorphic."
Shuri sounds slightly confused by that and her tone breaks Bruce from his momentary lapse in attention. It takes him only a fraction of a second to change his response from a very undignified um yeah, duh, to something more professional. The teenager (maybe early twenties at the oldest) hadn't been there. He wonders (oh so briefly) if it would help to explain why they did what they did, but then he remembers the whole time constraint thing and decides not to. "Right," he begins, "we – we had to attach each neuron non – non-sequentially."
He's annoyed by his stutter, but it's better than um yeah, duh. Tony would have gone with the undignified reply and somehow come across as charmingly dignified in the process, complete with bristly sarcasm and a 'can you please make relevant observations' expression. Bruce misses him.
Until he sees Shuri's expression. Then he decides it's better for everyone present that Tony Stark is not in the building, let alone on the same planet as this spitfire of a girl. This conversation would be going very differently if that were the case. The young scientist is staring at him like he doesn't know how to work a smart phone and it takes every last bit of Bruce's very limited store of patience to not roll his eyes and walk away (this is neither the time nor the place for such a reaction). The Other Guy seems content to hibernate anyway, so it's not as if he'll be a danger to anyone if he ends up losing his temper.
"Why didn't you just reprogram the synapses to work collectively?"
Bruce is suddenly really, really glad he doesn't have children. He isn't sure he would be able to deal with the combination of confidence and ignorance that is oh so present in this girl's entire demeanor. At least Tony's ridiculous overabundance of confidence is backed up (usually) with enough knowledge and experience to warrant it. Shuri hasn't even the slightest clue what went into creating the being that lies in front of her, and that grates on every last one of his nerves.
As if programming them collectively had even been an option when Vision's body had been half-programmed already. Rather than spend time tearing apart what had already been done, they'd been able to work with what they'd been given (or what they'd stolen, rather). But then again, Shuri hadn't been there. Bruce has to keep reminding himself of that fact. It's giving him a valid reason to remain patient. So he tries not to mirror her expression (he has the feeling this makes him look confused) and comes up with a courteous response. "Because we… didn't think of it?"
Because it hadn't been an option, so why think of it? The only thing saving her from him thinking of her as just another stereotypical smart teenager is that her vocabulary and obvious interest imply that she knows what she's doing.
Then she smiles, and oh. Oh boy. He makes a mental note to sit down and have a little chat with her once this whole thing blows over. Her smile is that toxic blend of confidence and ignorance again and it's oozing with condescension. He despises it.
"I'm sure you did your best."
Huh. Well yeah, we did. And our best is lying in front of you. A fully functioning, living, breathing, morally good, fairly independent android that runs off of one of the most powerful energy sources in existence. Not to mention he can lift Thor's hammer.
But he doesn't say any of that, because frankly? That sort of attitude doesn't warrant a response, professional or otherwise. He's obviously answered all of the questions she deems him intelligent enough to answer, so he meanders off to talk strategy with the rest of them.
Bruce has the uncomfortable feeling that Tony used to be like that (another valid reason to attempt to remain patient and professional).
It's only later, once they're battling an army and time is literally crunched, that he realizes that reprogramming every last one of Vision's synapses will take entirely too long, and Shuri probably hasn't made enough mistakes in her life to realize that if something isn't working it's time to move on to Plan B.
It's only later, once things have fallen apart, that he wishes Tony would have been part of the planning process. Vision had inherited the pragmatic side of the man (he'd offered to sacrifice himself, after all), but not the stubbornness. When Cap had said no, Vision caved. When Wakanda offered a potential solution, Vision (and the rest of them) had held out hope for a bit.
But Tony is (was? He hates to think 'was'…) a calculator. He would've said 'yes' to Cap's 'no' and argued his point to the bitter end.
Now it doesn't matter, so Bruce doesn't dwell. Everything is over. He finds Shuri (she survived, thank goodness – she is only a teenager, after all). She's a broken, hunched mess on a cracked and gritty floor. It's obvious she's already heard the news. Bruce quietly walks over and lowers himself down next to her. In this moment, it is abundantly clear that even though she is probably an overqualified genius in a number of fields, she is still a very young and emotionally compromised kid. Or, to put it in simpler terms, she's a wreck.
So is Bruce, but he's had practice with being a wreck. More than most.
He doesn't touch her; he just sits with her, offering a silent, semi-solid presence.
"He's dead, because of me," she mumbles through sobs.
Against all odds, he almost has to smile. She's so very much like him that it hurts (but he's not here, so why dwell?).
"Nah," he says, staring blankly at the mess of downed trees and upturned earth visible through the empty window frames. "They're all gone because of Thanos, not because we didn't try hard enough. We did what we could. So did you."
She still doesn't look at him. "It wasn't enough."
"Nope. But you did your best."
Now she looks at him. Had he been Tony Stark, the words might have been deep insult hurled out of deep loss, but he's not Tony. Shuri seems to understand that and slowly nods before visibly willing the sobs to stop. "Okay."
Bruce stands and she follows suit before silently leading him to Wakanda's overly impressive labs. Everything about Wakanda is seemingly light years ahead. But Bruce has no time to be impressed anymore. He begins to listen as Shuri begins to teach and together they begin to brainstorm ideas.
A chat is no longer necessary.
"I could choke the life out of you without changing a shade." Bruce Banner