A/N: Yes, I know that I didn't update in a long time but tests and school kept me busy. However, I found enough time to write a new chapter for this story.

Thanks to everyone who reviewed, I hope you are still tuned for this story! Also, I apologize for any grammar/spelling mistakes I have done. If anything's too bad then don't hesitate telling me about it.

TWO WEEKS LATER

'Hey, Bruce?' The billionaire called out from a spot that was coming from somewhere from the his- or rather his father's, workshop.

'Yes, just a minute.' Bruce waved a hand dismissively as he held a few papers in his other one. They had been working on their robot for two weeks now and it seemed that in a few days they'll get it ready. Or rather, Tony would get it ready because Bruce couldn't use a screwdriver right.

'There's no other minute,' The stubborn billionaire insisted and stepped out from the shadows. His brown hair was messy and sticking in all the directions while his previously white t-shirt was covered in grease and...dust? Bruce had to shake his head at that.

'Tony, what have you done, again?' The exasperated tone of the soon-to-be-doctor echoed through the room as he ran a hand in his brown curls. Yes, it wasn't the first time when Tony did something that resulted with them both hearing a lecture from Mrs. Stark about not destroying her husband's lab and another, more agressive lecture from Howard Stark himself that Bruce had only heard from the outside of the house.

Tony shrugged his shoulders a little and looked down at the ground. If a stranger would see the look on his face then that person would believe that he actually felt guilty but that trick didn't work on Bruce, or at least not anymore. He learnt to don't fall for his tricks any longer and he did a rather good job on it until now. He became quite insensible at his best and only friend's innocent attempts.

'Tony,' Bruce warned with a quick shake of his head, the slightest smile forming on his lips and only the feel of his lips tugging upright made his head lower. He didn't like to smile too much, he never thought that he looked good when smiling, even if his teachers and now Tony told him that he should smile more. 'You know I don't believe you if you pull that face on me.'

'Who says that I want you to believe me?' Tony said dryly, making his way past his friend and poking him in the side with a screwdriver. The other jumped and turned around quickly with a defensive look on his face.

'How many times do I have to mention that I don't like pointy things?' Bruce huffed and pushed his reading glasses further over his nose. His hand then reached out for one of the vials he had scattered all over the table, only to feel it shattering in his hand and the glass piercing his skin. His silent gasp caused Tony to turn around and look at him with an alarmed look, his brows up near his hairline as he studied his friend's face.

'Oh, it's nothing,' Bruce mumbled as he saw that his hand was bleeding. Perfect, probably he couldn't use his hand on writing or anything else and the presentation was only days away. He shook his head to self, his good hand clutching the hurt one in attempt to stop the bleeding. 'Probably I should just wash it and then bandage the wound.'

Without any word, Bruce made his way to the bathroom that was connected to the workshop and turned on the water, testing its warmth with his index finger. It was just perfect, not too cold and neither too hot as Tony usually left it, probably he was the last person who washed his hands in that bathroom. He sighed and let the water flow over his hurt hand, the redish blood mixing with the water and falling into the white sink.

'Avery!' Toschi screamed as his hands tightened on the other man's arms. He could see the shock in those wide, almond colored eyes just as he saw the light slowly fade. That couldn't be happening, not now, not ever. He couldn't lose what was his best friend, despite the fact that he never showed it. He couldn't lose him because an idiot tried to shot him. To shot David Toschi and not Paul Avery.

'Paul,' He mumbled as he lied the other man on the ground, watching as the blood and rain mixed in a small hole from the ground. His shaking hands reached inside his drenched trench coat and pulled out his police radio* as he drew in a deep breath. He saw a dot of blood form at the corner of the man's mouth and all he wanted to do was scream, but he knew better than that.

'Come on, Paul,' He whispered as he fiddled with his police radio. 'You can't do this to me, not now.' He barely had time to press the 'open' button as a piercing pain rack through his back. He felt his eyes widen and the horrified look on his friend's face made his hand shot behind him and feel the coat before pulling it away and bringing it to his eyes. Blood. He had blood on his hand and he knew that it wasn't coming from Avery but it was coming from him.

'Damn!' Tony's voice, soon followed by a piece of metal hitting the floor, awoke Bruce from his flashback with a start. He noticed that his hand wasn't bleeding any longer and that the blood was completely gone from the sink. It kept longer than other times, he thought as he remembered his flashback. He felt his chest tighten at the simple memory of those wide, almond eyes staring at him and then blood and then...How much that man looked as Tony and how much that bloody hand looked as his own.

'Paul...' He mumbled, trying to remember the last name of the man he called out for in his dream/flashback. He tapped his fingers against the sink nervously and then the man's last name hit him as a flash. 'Avery! Paul Avery..." Bruce nodded to self and stared at his reflection. He was going to do some research on that name and see if he could find any record with that name, or if the name was only an invention of his imagination.

* That was a suggestion from Zeugmaqueen A03, that Toschi should have a police radio and not a phone.

Other suggestions are welcome as well! Don't forget to review, that'd make my day.