Tony got on his plane. He got on and Pepper was waiting for him and she was shocked because he was early. Tony Stark was early. For a flight. That led to a meeting.

"Are you alright?" She asked immediately. "You're early."

If only she knew. "'M fine, why? Man can't enjoy the perks of flying before the actual flight?"

"You hate flying," she reminded him, concern still plaguing her countenance.

"No, I hate airplanes. Suit flies, I love flying. Planes are boring," he said pointedly.

Pepper was going to make a remark about the half-naked women and occasional men he used to bring along on flights and if the lack of distraction was making him restless, but there was something in his face that made her stop. "Okay," she said simply. Because she knew Tony wouldn't want to talk about it. Maybe she would try and squeeze whatever it was out of him during their flight. They had a good four hours at the very least.

Sitting in his seat, waiting for Pepper to come back, Tony went over what had happened in the lab. He let his brain assess the situation repeatedly because he had time for that shit now and he couldn't think about anything else. Anything but that curly head of hair and the disappointed look on Bruce's face. The way he could tell Bruce didn't want him there and was trying not to say it directly. Bruce was considerate. Tony was not. At least, he didn't feel like he was. And the more he thought about it, the more he realized how stupid he had been. He'd been acting like a needy child trying to get his father's attention while he was working – and fuck, that was familiar. Nope, couldn't go down that road. Tony tried as he might to push that thought back down into the depths from which it had come. Old habits die hard or don't die at all, he guessed.

Pepper sat down next to him without saying anything. She wanted to, though, and that's why she kept glancing at him from the corner of her eye as she pretended to look at their schedule for the hundredth time. Tony didn't even have a drink in hand. Though he felt like he probably should have one there. The taste in his mouth wasn't pleasant, but then again alcohol wasn't going to fix that.

"You can tell me any time you like," Pepper said without looking up.

"What makes you think there is something?" Tony stared down at his hands, then back at the window, then his hands again.

"Well, you're acting weird, even for you; you're too quiet. And you look upset, Tony." She clicked her tablet off and turned to him. "Did you guys have a fight?"

"What? No. I mean, not really. We're fine, everything's fine. It's all very... fine." He just wanted to stop thinking about this. Stop talking, stop thinking, maybe start drinking. Scotch sounded good. He needed a distraction.

"Fine," she repeated. "Are you sure? You don't look fine." Pepper put her hand over his. "You know you can tell me anything."

He retracted his hand, and hunched himself over a bit, resting his knees on his elbows and chin on his fists. "Okay, you caught me. You got time for sappy shit? 'Cause that's where this is headed. But you tell no one, under any circumstances, what I'm about to say. Capiche?"

Pepper held back a smile. She'd won, of course. And Tony needed the outlet. "Capiche."

So, Tony told her about how Bruce had walked out just yesterday after yet another incident and how distant he was being and how Tony just didn't know what to do anymore because for all he knew he'd left the Hulk at home and he was so, so stupid for doing that and he should just go back home and make sure Bruce was okay because he'd never be able to focus on business-y crap with all this shit whizzing through his head. And of course, Pepper listened. She reassured him that it was just Bruce being Bruce and with the new environment and all the stress, he was just getting a little restless with himself. It had nothing to do with Tony. She said sometimes you couldn't just help with things like that. He'd just have to try and be there for Bruce when he needed it. And maybe Tony should tell him how he felt. Ha, that was a laugh. She had to be joking. Tony should tell Bruce how he was feeling? That didn't even sound possible. But he didn't tell Pepper that.

"Thanks," he said instead.

"My pleasure."

"Dr. Banner, it is now twelve o' clock in the afternoon."

Bruce jumped. He'd told the AI to remind him when it was time for lunch so he wouldn't forget. He did that sometimes. Despite the fact that he could cook rather well, sometimes he wouldn't eat for a while until it became a serious problem and he was lightheaded and the world was spinning – or until Tony told him to go eat something. And then Bruce would get up and eat like he was starving because the Other Guy had a nearly insatiable appetite compared to his.

The scientist sighed and rubbed his eyes, which were starting to lose focus after staring at the screen. "Thanks, Jarvis. I'll go make something."

"Might I suggest something with a high carbohydrate content to better your energy levels, as well as proteins to appease your alter ego."

Bruce chuckled. Appease the Hulk? Yeah, okay. "I'll try that."

Jarvis then offered to draw up a menu, but there was so much food in the fridge that Bruce turned him down. He'd just gone grocery shopping, and Tony pretty much handed him a blank check and said 'have at it,' which was both nice and weird. Bruce wasn't used to that. He'd learned how to ration what he could because he often didn't know where his next meal was coming from. But Tony assured him that wasn't necessary.

"You seem like a Whole Foods kinda guy," he'd said. "Pick out some organic blueberries; I don't care."

And even though he wasn't even close to being a chef, Tony Stark hated being hungry – for pretty apparent reasons. Normal hungry was fine, but there was a line between that and starving, and crossing it or even teetering on the edge of it brought back some very distressing memories for the battered mechanic. It was like running a car until the needle rested on empty; Tony didn't want to be pushed along the shoulder of the interstate. Food meant health. Food meant comfort. When the billionaire became absorbed in his work and he ignored something as important as food, Bruce knew there was something very wrong.

Sleep, for the most part, was the opposite between them. Bruce would get consumed by his work, sure, but sleep was his main escape from stress and anxiety, and oddly enough, he didn't often find himself woken by nightmares like his boyfriend. His dreams were more fragments by the time he woke up. Sometimes they had to do with the Other Guy – which were likely the beast's memories that had found their way into Banner's subconscious – and sometimes not. But not having to remember them or wake up in the middle of the night to do so was a great blessing among turmoil, he supposed. Tony had once jokingly remarked that he had enough nightmares for the both of them.

Bruce wasn't sure how to feel about that.

"Mr. Stark?" Some big-suit-CEO-guy called to him from across the table as long as a hallway.

"Yeah, just schedule that for... next week. That work for you?" Tony asked Pepper. He looked up from his legal pad where he'd been doodling armor designs in the margins.

Pepper looked at him with a bit of frustration. The least he could do was pay attention. "Yes, that's perfect."

"And why don't you send over some of your designs for the Green Project. I'm sure that would be be of use. If that's what you were leaning towards. You know, Stark Industries could always use some more greens on our plate." Tony chuckled to himself at the inside joke, but kept a cocky smile. He waggled his eyebrows at Pepper; Tony had been paying attention.

Bruce's research was going absolutely nowhere, and it was becoming unbearably frustrating. The feeling burned inside him like a hot iron that poked its way through to a pit of boiling, green acid. No matter how many ideas he came up with, one after the other after the other failed. The computer, the microscope, and the Other Guy were all mocking him now. After taking one last look at some disappointing and infuriating figures on the screen in front of him, the scientist stood up – nearly knocking over his chair – and began to pace. He crossed the lab a few times before letting out an exasperated cry and punching the wall with a grunt, which sent a wave of pain through his right arm. His nerve's tingles and his knuckles throbbed. He didn't break skin, thankfully. But there was a dent in the wall now. Bruce sighed and searched reluctantly for a cloth bandage or some gauze to wrap up his hand that had begun to smart. Finding that Tony had finished up the last roll without replacing it, Bruce ventured upstairs, telling Jarvis to shut everything down on his way out. After situating some wrapping around his wrist and hand where the pain was now almost strangely pleasant – a nice distraction, certainly – Banner decided it might be a good idea to sleep for a few hours. And by a few, he meant more like nine or ten. The clock read seven; Tony should be home soon, but Bruce didn't feel like waiting up. He needed an escape, and he needed it now.

Tony came home to find Bruce curled up in a tight ball on Tony's side of the bed, half covered by sheets. The left side of his skull was pressed firmly into the mechanic's pillow. Tony opted against waking him up,but he didn't really feel like attempting sleep either. He'd actually wanted to talk to Bruce about some stuff – not necessarily what Pepper wanted him to talk about, but still. He'd been at that damn meeting all freaking day. How long could it possibly take to make a few decisions? Tony went over to where Bruce was laying and further covered him with the sheets and the thick comforter, tucking him in. Stark then sat on the edge of the bed by the man's feet, just watching him for a moment. Bruce's steady breathing, the mostly peaceful look on his face, the way he held to his knees and clutched them to his chest, only loosening slightly as sleep had overtaken him. Tony knew that he tried not to sleep in that position when the engineer was there, but he usually ended up shifting through the course of the night. He curled up like he was hiding, which Tony realized he probably had been at for a length of time. It was likely habitual, which was sad to say the least. The two of them rarely spoke of this phenomenon, just as they rarely discussed Tony's anxiety and nightmares. For both of them, things like that were difficult to talk about and much easier to repress indefinitely.

Banner murmured softly in his sleep and curled his fingers over the blankets, urging them even closer. His features became a bit pinched. Tony reached over to stroke Bruce's dark curls, attempting to quell his somewhat distraught expression. It was then that Tony really saw how alike they were, despite having nearly polar opposite personalities. He knew Bruce was struggling – they both were – but he didn't really know what to do about it. Maybe Pepper was right in what she'd said. Sighing quietly, Tony took one last look at the sleeping scientist before heading down to his workshop.

Bruce kind of looked like a cat.