"Bruce, it's Tony. Please call me, I really want.. need to talk to you. Okay? Just please, ya know. Call me. Alright, bye."
Tony sighed, and scrubbed his face as Jarvis ended the call. It had been a week since the disastrous night, and Tony hadn't heard anything from Bruce, he was honestly getting worried.
"Daddy! Daddy!" Peter squealed as he came running into the living room, a piece of paper flapping in his hand as he jumped up onto the sofa next to his father. "Daddy, look! I drew you a picture!"
"Did you?" Tony took the page from his son, holding it up in front of both of them. "Was is it little buddy? Is that me?" Tony asked, pointing to a red man flying through the air.
"No! That Jarvis!"
"Jarvis?"
"Yeah! Since I donno what Jarvis looks like I just made him Iron Man cause your down here with me and Daddy so you can't also be in you suit, so I made it Jarvis!" Peter screamed in his fathers ear as he bounced on his knees, pointing excitedly at each different stick figure in the picture. "Look see, you, daddy, and me!"
Tony was a blue stick figure with a black smudge on his face which was no doubt his beard, while Bruce was a purple stick figure with glasses, and Peter was a red stick figure with what looked like a disc in his hand.
"What's that, buddy?" Tony asked, pointing at the disc.
"A shield! Like Steve's!"
"Oh yeah?" Tony said lamely, giving his son a weak smile. "That's great, baby. You wanna put it on the fridge?"
"Yeah!" Peter yelled, grabbing the picture and running off to the kitchen.
"Peter don't run!" Tony yelled after his son. He sighed, and held his head in his hands for what felt like hours, but were only a few minutes.
"Incoming call, sir."
Tony's head snapped up to look at the room in general. "Who is it, J?"
"Dr. Banner, sir."
"Bruce?" Tony breathed, smiling to himself.
"Tony?" Tony startled at the sudden voice, not realizing Jarvis had already connected the call. "Tony? Hello?"
"Yeah, yeah. Bruce, I'm here."
"What did you need, Tony?" Bruce's voice sound, rough and slightly annoyed through the speaker.
"I just, hadn't talked to in a week and I wanted to make sure you were okay." The other end of the line was silent. "So, are you okay?"
There was a sigh from the other end of the line. "Yes, Tony, I am fine."
"Are you su-"
"Daddy!" Peter screamed as he ran back into the living room. "Daddy! Is that you!" he hollered to the ceiling.
"Hey, Petey, yeah it's me, buddy."
"Daddy, where are you?" Peter asked as he called into Tony's lap.
"I'm in New Mexico, baby."
"New Mexico?" Peter said the word as if it tasted bad.
"Yeah, New Mexico."
"Well, when are you coming back? Because, dad and I miss you and we want you back."
Bruce inhaled deeply and tried not to let the tears that were threatening to fall, slip. He had spent the whole week feeling as if he had ruined his relationship with his son and that he may hate Bruce for the rest of his life. "You do?"
"Of course, I do silly daddy. I love you!" Peter giggled as Tony smoothed his hair and kissed it.
"Oh, Petey" Bruce breathed "I love you too. You're not mad at daddy anymore?"
"No," Peter shook his head, looking down at the loose string on Tony's pants he was playing with. "I'm sorry for yelling at you daddy, I love you, and I just want you to come home. I'll even eat my vegetables this time."
"Okay, darlin' I'll be home soon, okay?"
"Okay. I love you daddy."
"I love you too, Peter." Bruce smiled. "Can I talk to your dad for a minute though, baby?"
"Yeah! I'll just go color some more! I made a picture earlier of you, me, daddy, and Jarvis! You should see it! Dad let me put it on the fridge!"
"That's so cool. I'll definitely see it when I get back, okay?"
"Okay! Bye, dad!" Peter yelled as hoped off Tony's lap and ran down the hall to his room.
"Bye, son." There was a few seconds of silence before Bruce speaks again. "Is he gone?"
"Yeah." Tony replied quietly. "Bruce, why are you in New Mexico?"
"I'm visiting Betty, Tony."
" I thought she... Right, okay. Well, what did you want to talk about?"
"Tony, I... Well, I... Ya know what never mind. I'll call you when I get back."
"Yeah, okay." Tony whispered, staring down at the blue rug, Bruce had insisted on buying because it 'matched the lamp shades perfectly'. And, of course, he was right.
"Don't do that." Bruce sighed. Tony could hear the head shake he was getting from the man on the other end of the line.
"Do what?"
"Pout."
"Pout!" Tony jumped up off the couch, screaming and pacing. "Pout! You think I'm pouting! Bruce, I'm not pouting! I'm not upset, I'm not sad, I'm absolutely devastated! I don't know what to do without you! I'm dying here!"
"You were surviving without me pretty well when you had Steve in our bed." Bruce snapped.
"Bruce..." Tony whispered, tears threatening to spill.
"Tony, I'm not having this conversation right now. I'll see you when I get back."
"Wait, can you tell me something." Tony pleaded.
"Yeah, what?" Bruce sighed, rubbing his eyes.
"Do you miss me?"
There was long pause that consisted of Tony holding his breath, and Bruce opening and closing his mouth several times, trying to find the right words to say. Eventually, he decided to go with the honest answer.
"Yes, Tony. Yes, I miss you. But, I gotta go now. I'll call you." And, with that Bruce hung up the phone, leaning his back against the wall, as he thunked his head back and shut his eyes.
Tony let out a tearful laugh, and grinned at the small consolation of knowing Bruce missed him.