Disclaimer: Unless you don't recognize them, I don't own them. No money or other profits are being made from this attempt at entertainment.

******

It wasn't often that Tony Stark found himself feeling out of his depth. It was even less often that he was willing to acknowledge such situations. If anyone had been of the mind to ask him at that moment, however, he would have had absolutely no problems admitting that he was well and truly overwhelmed – after which he would have begged them to do something because Bruce was bleeding and he couldn't think straight and dammit where was that ambulance!

Sure, since becoming Iron Man and taking up with SHIELD he had been required to take a long, boring series of first aid classes, but this was beyond anything that he had been trained to deal with.

******

They had been at the press conference to announce the first of hopefully many joint ventures between Stark Industries and Wayne Enterprises. Given Tony's public alter-ego, security had actually been more substantial than it ordinarily would have been, but apparently it still hadn't been enough.

As they began walking towards the stairs leading down from the podium Bruce had suddenly jumped at Tony, shoving the other man to the side and causing him to fall gracelessly to the ground, seriously injuring his wrist in the process. When Tony turned to inquire of the other man what exactly his problem was the words wound up lodged in his throat – along with his heart and stomach by the feel of it.

Lying on the ground, grabbing at his chest with a hand red with blood was Bruce Wayne. Tony might not have heard the shot, but he knew what a gunshot victim looked like when he saw one.

Tony stood frozen for a few seconds by the horror of the site. He quickly returned to his senses, however, and lunged over to Bruce's side. "Somebody, call 911!" he shouted as he gently put one hand on Bruce's shoulder. As he looked down on Bruce's chest his face paled as he took in the amount of blood that was leaking from the wound.

Relief ran through his body, turning his muscles to gelatin, when he saw pain-hazed blue eyes regarding him. "What the hell were you thinking?" he demanded, a sudden burst of anger at the injured man running through him.

"Se…eemed like a…good idea…at time…" Bruce quipped, forcing his reply from between clenched teeth.

"Yeah, well, don't do it again," Tony demanded, absently smoothly strands of dark hair back from Bruce's sweaty forehead, "I'm the superhero around here."

A raspy chuckle was his only reply.

Then, finally, Tony heard the welcome siren wail of an approaching ambulance. "Hang on, Bruce," Tony murmured, squeezing the other man's should, "help's on the way."

******

After several minutes of yelling, threatening and begging Tony was ensconced in the back of the ambulance with Bruce and the EMTs working on him. One technician grabbed a pair of scissors and cut away Bruce shirt so they could begin treatment on the wound. Tony unconsciously licked his lips as inch after inch of chiseled torso was revealed, though his enjoyment was dampered by the blood smeared over the pale skin. While the EMT applied pressure to the wound in the hopes of slowing the blood flow Tony perused Bruce further, coming up short when he noted the blanket of scars that decorated Bruce's skin.

"What the hell?" he thought to himself, moving closer to Bruce without realizing it only to be jerked to his senses when one of the technicians gave him a not so gentle push back in his seat. Tony shot the culprit an irritated scowl, only to receive the same in return. He let out a huff of annoyance as he leaned back on the bench, folding his arms over his chest. When the side of one arm came in contact with the hard edge of his arc reactor the reminder of his own scars brought his mind back to Bruce's. He thoughtfully cataloged them as they were revealed, considering possible causes based on the appearance of each - all the while absently tracing the edge of his reactor with his fingers.

******

As he was waiting for word on Bruce, who had been taken into surgery, Tony's guilt-ridden thoughts were interrupted by a vaguely familiar voice.

"Now see here, Madam, I am the closest thing that Master Bruce has to family and I will thank you to keep that in mind. If you check his records, you will find that I am in fact listed as his next of kin as well as his primary emergency contact."

Tony looked over to the nurses' station to see Bruce's butler – Eldwin?... Alden?...

"Easy, Alfred. I'm sure that Nurse Cuttitte will be more than happy to update you on Bruce's condition now that she's aware of the situation."

Tony took a long look at the large man who stood behind Alfred and held a calming hand on the elderly man's shoulder. He too looked familiar, though Tony couldn't remember where he'd seen him. He had a gentle look on his bespectaled face and was clearly well built under the ill-fitting, poorly made suit he wore.

Tony watched as a look of despair passed over Alfred's face as the nurse filled them in on Bruce's status. He found himself feeling guilty once again. He hadn't thought twice about anyone else who might have been interested in Bruce's condition. Here he was, with no real connection to Bruce but money enough to smooth his way into the information he wanted while this man who obviously loved Bruce a great deal had had to fight and threaten his way through.

Movement caught his eye and interrupted his thoughts and he turned to watch the two men walk into the waiting room. He could tell the instant they noticed him, both froze momentarily before changing direction and heading his way.

"Mister Stark," Alfred greeted, nodding his head, "have you heard any word on Master Bruce?"

Tony shook his head as he replied. "I'm afraid not. I know they took him into surgery, but that's about it."

"Indeed. It seems that the employees are quite reluctant to release anything that would be considered helpful information."

"Come on, Alfred. They're doing what they can. I'm sure Bruce will be fine. You know he's too stubborn to let this stop him."

At that Tony felt an inexplicable wave of jealousy run through him. Who was this loser, to think he knew Bruce so well. What was he to Bruce, that he was so familiar with Alfred? How…

"Oh, I have been remiss. Mister Stark, this is Clark Kent of the Daily Planet, a friend of Master Bruce."

So that's where he'd recognized the man from. Kent's work had actually impressed Tony with its unbiased yet probing manner, in spite of him generally having very little positive to say about Stark Industries or Tony himself – granted that was before Tony had seen the error of his ways as it were.

From his articles he'd judged Kent to be a just, if naïve man – one of the saps determined to do the right thing and make the world a better place. Though Tony himself could technically be classed as one of those saps now…

"Master Clark was in town to cover Master Bruce's press conference. When Master Bruce was… injured… he inquired as to the hospital to which he was being taken and then alerted me to what had transpired. He was kind enough to transport me here."

'Master Clark' was it – obviously the guy was a bit closer than a casual acquaintance…

"It was the least I could do, Alfred," Kent spoke with such sincerity that it made Tony's teeth ache. And why the hell did the man look so guilty?

"And it is very much appreciated, Sir," Alfred assured. "Now, however, it seems the only thing to do is wait for the doctors to deign to update us as to Master Bruce's condition."

At that Kent's face took on a strange expression, as if he were listening to voices that no one else could hear. He froze that way for a moment before shaking his head and turning towards Alfred, gently leading the man to a group of seats in a corner of the room. "You're right I'm afraid, Alfred. I'm sure they won't take too much longer to tell us something, though…"

Tony raised an eyebrow as he saw Kent lean over and whisper in Alfred's ear for several moments. The expression of concern hadn't left either man's face, though they both seemed less tense than they had just moments before. How strange…

Tony spent the next several hours sneaking sips from his flask and watching Kent seeming listening to the voices in his head as he waited to hear how Wayne's surgery had gone.

Really, how could Bruce even consider being friends with such a weirdo?