Chapter 3: The Sandman Bleeds Green

Bruce and Tony had conversed for about another half hour, until the doctor could hardly keep his eyes open. Willing himself to stay awake, the doctor grabbed his cup of forgotten coffee and stood, guzzling the lukewarm beverage.

Tony looked up at the doctor. Exhaustion grew more and more apparent on his face. "You need to get some rest. We both do."

"Weren't you listening?" Bruce mumbled. "I can't sleep."

"Then let me at least show you to your room."

"No."

"Are you gonna be this stubborn the whole time? 'Cause I don't mind dragging you there."

"Why do you even still care? Follow everyone else's lead and stay away from me."

Unmoved by the doctor's words, Tony scoffed. "I'm not much of a conformist. Believe it or not, I'm actually quite fond of you, Banner, and I want to help you." The doctor began pacing back and forth. "I've lost all my redeeming qualities years ago." He countered, a bitter smile darkening his features. "There isn't much to be fond of." Tony caught the doctor's gaze. "I'm not so sure. You'd be surprised." The two had known each other for nearly four years. The only thing he couldn't stand about Bruce was his self-loathing.

Bruce gave up; nothing he said dissuaded Tony, and he didn't have the energy to put up much of a fight. Dizziness had gripped the sleep-deprived doctor, forcing him to lean against a nearby wall. Tony's voice reached him, garbled and indistinct. "'M fine, 'm alright…" He insisted in a thick slur. Closing his eyes, he became deadweight, and fell to the floor.

…

Tony had half-dragged, half-carried the doctor to his room. Not fifteen minutes later, and already had Bruce begun to twist and turn restlessly. Eyebrows furrowed, Bruce muttered something incoherent. Tony placed a hand on Bruce's shoulder, and he recoiled. "Bruce?" The billionaire whispered. Shaking the doctor, he once again called his name. "Bruce, it's alri—" The doctor had awoken, and his hands immediately wrapped around Tony's throat. His eyes glowed a bright green, but the color quickly faded as recognition struck him. Releasing his grip, Bruce stared apologetically into the other man's eyes. "…I'm sorry."

"It's alright. Shouldn't have scared you like that."

"Stop doing that, Tony. You know you aren't at fault."

"Neither are you."

Looking around, Bruce grew confused. "How did I…?"

"I brought you here." Straightening his stance, Tony headed for the door. "Jarvis, let me know if there're any more irregularities in Bruce's sleep patterns." "Of course, Sir."

"See you in the morning." Tony shut the door behind him, leaving Bruce to ponder. In all, truest honesty, he loved Tony's company; he even began to think he needed it. Tony was the only one who unwaveringly gave a damn about his wellbeing. He was also the only one he allowed into his personal plights, rare as those occasions were. Yet at the same time, he couldn't bear the thought of hurting the man again. He had caused enough pain, he had seen enough pain. He wasn't going to inflict it upon someone he cared about. Not again. Never again. With these final thoughts racing through his head, it wasn't long before the doctor was once again taken by sleep.

…

"You found him?" Pepper asked.

"Yeah. What's with that tone?"

"I'm just worried is all."

Tony stared ahead, pausing for a moment. "Well, you shouldn't be. I'm gonna be fine."

"You don't know that, Tony. You thought you were 'gonna be fine' 6 months ago."

"…When will you be back?"

"I'd say about 12 hours…" Distant chattering was heard on her end. "I have to go. This conversation isn't over." But to him it was. No amount of protest could make Tony up and drop Bruce. He and Pepper were too important to him.