A/N Wow guess who woke up and did some writing? That's right, me. (throws small party)
Anyway, there's mentions of suicide attempts in this chapter, but it's mostly like a line of it.
Dedicated to Amber, whose birthday is now in a couple days! Yay!
Happy reading, folks
Bruce felt minorly blessed when Tony didn't start drilling him with questions as soon as they boarded his private jet. Instead the engineer simply lets Bruce know that he can sleep on the way to New York, because it's safe.
And Bruce for one, finally understands that it's safe. On a private jet, just the two of them. Because Tony made a goddam autopilot for his jets. The biologist doesn't point this out. Looks like he's not the only one with trust issues.
He sleeps surprisingly well, given the fact that he's in a new environment. It's probably from the fact that it's been years since he's been given the chance to sleep somewhere safe.
Tony, on the other hand, does not sleep. Sure, he feels 'safe' on the jet, but he won't risk it. Instead he sends a quick text to Rhodey and Pepper telling them why he took an impromptu trip to Alaska and took the jet. It reads,
went to go pick up our favorite jolly green from fairbanks. be back soon ~TS
When Pepper reads this, she wants to be mad, she really does. But with everything that's gone on the past few months, she can't bring herself to be.
When Rhodey reads this he thinks about how great that nickname fits Dr. Banner.
Bruce wakes about an hour away from the airstrip, and has to take a few deep breaths before everything comes tumbling back to him. Everything.
Accompanied by a quick gasp he pulls down the fraying sleeves to reveal his still bandaged arms. He begins to unravel the less than white strips, until a calloused hand stops his own. "Wha-"
"Keep 'em on, green bean. If you're really itching to get them off we'll deal with that when we get to the tower."
Muddled by sleep Banner asks, "...The tower? Oh right. Saw it on the news once. Good, good building."
Snorting Tony replies, "Yeah, a bit empty now though." Both of them wince at the thought.
"Oh. Yeah. I guess it would be."
"Anyway!" Tony says clapping his hands, "That doesn't matter. We still got Vis and Rhodey and Pep, and that's all good.
Bruce gives a pity smiles and points out, "You look like shit, Tony."
"Thanks buddy."
"Anytime."
The subject is dropped, because Tony would rather not delve into it, and Bruce is still too tired to argue. The engineer fixes the scrunched up bandages on Bruce's forearm, and checks the other one, just in case. Satisfied, he says, "Alright. We're almost home, otherwise I'd recommend another nap for you."
Frowning Bruce replies, "I could say the same for you. When was the last time you got any sleep?" Unfortunately for Tony, the subject is brought up yet again.
Giving a trademark Stark Smirk, the older man says, "Always the mother hen, aren't you, Brucie?"
"Tony," Is all he gets as a response, which apparently, is enough.
Sitting on the edge of the cot in the jet Tony rubs a tired hand over his face and mutters, "I know what you mean, Brucie. I know I don't have that same… glow as I did before, but I have a lot of things to do. I'll sleep back at the house, how about that?"
Bruce looks unconvinced, but he's pretty sure that's all he's gonna get. "Okay. Yeah. Sleep back at the house."
Pausing, Bruce asks, "'House'? Isn't it a mansion?"
"Doesn't feel like it. Feels like a house that's too large with only a few people living in it."
"Oh."
Smiling Tony adds, "Your vocabulary has not been mirroring your multiple PhDs, today, Doctor Banner."
Bruce gives a smile back, and for a second, it looks like everything's gonna be alright. Of course, both of the brilliant minds know that nothing can go well in their lives, but it's nice to pretend for a second. It's like buying a lottery ticket and thinking of all of the ways you'd spend the money, even though rationally you'd know that you were never going to win.
Their smiles crumble back down and Bruce can see the dark circles taking Tony's eyes captive, as well as protruding cheekbones. Malnutrition, Banner's mind easily supplies, Malnutrition, lack of sleep, and chronic stress.
Alternatively, Tony sees Bruce's jittery eyes, never staying focused on a single object for more than a second, slightly faster than normal breathing, and nibbling on his cuticles. Stark's brain tell him, Chronic Anxiety, untreated panic disorders, and of course, NSSH.
They're really just poster children for mental health.
Gently, Tony pries Bruce's hand away from his mouth and says, "Hey now," Softly.
Suddenly, the doctor (but not that kind of doctor) feels like crying. It may be the safety of the jet, or talking with someone he knows is genuine, and not trying to screw him over to Ross, or just the adrenaline of everything happening coming down, but whatever the case is, it's bad.
Waving his hand in front of him Bruce says, "I'm just, just gonna, you know," Real smooth, Banner, "Nap, er, try to nap, that is."
Tony grins at his old friend's awkwardness and replies, "Yeah, Bruce, I know. I'll wake you up once we've landed."
The biologist silently nods and pushes himself to the farthest corner of the cot, purely out of habit.
Surprising Tony, and himself, he's able to fall back asleep in a matter of minutes.
With a fond sigh Tony pulls the sheet out and drapes it on top of him. For someone that transforms into a giant green rage monster, Bruce can look quite small sometimes.
Ew, emotions, Tony thinks. God I need a drink.
And he really does. Drinks are wonderful things in the world of Tony Stark.
Contrary to popular belief, Tony did actually try to quit drinking. He succeeded for a bit when he was convinced he was dying from palladium (good times), but otherwise it's been a constant threat. Since he was a young teenager and he took his first swig of beer.
But if he's being completely honest, it had been a threat since he was an infant, watching his father constantly drink and smoke around him, and then watching his father's business partners drink and smoke around him.
Lucky for him, there's always a bar around the corner.
Because in every Tony Stark modified design, such as a self flying jet, there's always a bar.
Besides, some good scotch sounds really, really good right about now. And maybe another glass. And perhaps another after that?
The problem is, Stark is intelligent enough to understand that this "drinking habit" is not the healthiest. So after three glasses of scotch he throws the bottle - and the glass, for good measure - on the ground and watch the sparkling pieces of glass litter the floor.
...And instantly regrets it.
Thoughts swarm his mind, mostly about how he shouldn't have fucking done that, because now there's glass on the floor, and yeah that's a hazard but he has a friend who he brought back from the hospital from fucking slicing himself up, imagine how he would feel if he saw glass, and oh God how he never thinks about anyone else and now he's wasted perfectly good alcohol because now it's all over the floor and what if Bruce wakes up right now? What would he think of Tony, probably nothing good, but it's high tide that he learned that anyway and all he really is a rich man that got lucky once or twice in his lifetime he's no better than the terrorists that kidnapped him so many moons ago and-
A beep from his 'watch' alerts him that his heart rate has risen to an unsafe level, and he should try breathing deeply and slowly to stop it. Right now, Tony wants to throw the damn gadget right next to the bottle, but he does listen to the little device and starts to level his breathing.
Not a few minutes later does the engineer take in what he's done. "Oh God," He mumbles to no one but the air.
He then goes about cleaning the floor before Bruce wakes up, because he really doesn't want this to be triggering to his friend. Really, it's a miracle that he didn't wake up initially while the bottle throwing was happening, so Tony works quietly.
After a few minutes the floor is just how it was, if not a wee bit more shiny.
"As long as you clean up your mistakes before anyone notices, it's like nothing really happened, right m'boy?" Obadiah Stane had asked him so many years ago. Before his parents had died. Before Jarvis had died.
Of course naive Tony didn't know that Obie would use the same thought process to get rid of him in Afghanistan. To be fair, no one knew what Obie was doing in Afghanistan. At least, no one who could fix it.
As the jet lands on the airstrip - with no pilot, Stark would add - Tony gently shakes his odd pal awake. He sees the moment of panic, the twinkle of green in his friend's eyes, and sets himself to make it disappear.
"Hey, Hey, Bruce, it's just me, Tony. You're on the jet, remember? Picked you up from Alaska, way up North, yeah?"
The engineer watches as Bruce blinks a couple times and murmurs, "Oh. Yeah. Jet, right. Sorry."
"No need to apologize, green bean," Tony replies with practiced ease, "No need to apologize at all."
Bruce nods and takes a deep breath, but looks rather unconvinced. Eventually, he speaks, "You smell like scotch, Tony."
With a fake grin Tony replies, "I didn't realize your palate was so refined, Bruce,"
"You're evading the point."
"Am I?"
"Tony - wait. Do you have a mini bar on the jet?"
"Mini bar? Mini Bar? Please Brucie, I have the entire bar here. Maraschino cherries and all." Tony adds with a bit of charm.
Of course, charm has never worked on the doctor, and it's not going to start working now. "That's really not healthy-"
All charm now lost, the engineer replies, "Oh yeah, and you'd know, right? You'd know healthy?" Like most things he does, Tony regrets the words as soon as it comes out of his mouth.
And then regrets it even more when Bruce ducks his head in his knees like a turtle in a shell.
"Sorry, Sorry, I uh," Tony runs a hand through his greasy hair and stumbles on, "I didn't really mean that, it just sort of came out, I just- sorry." No wonder he leaves the apologies to Pepper. It's like the time he was ten and yelled at his friend for not giving him the wheels of his plastic car in boarding school.
Even after all this time, it's true: Tony Stark is bad at making apologies.
He's good at feeling apologetic, but as far as the words go? Nada. Nope. Ziltch.
"...ony. Tony." Bruce's voice brings him back to the present.
"What? Sorry, could you repeat that?"
With added lines of worry etched onto his face Bruce answers, "I just said 'it's alright'. Are you okay Tony?"
Wading another hand through his hair Stark mutters, "Yeah, yeah, I'm great. Just spaced for a second- anyway!" A Tony Stark mask gets up on and he smiles at Bruce. An outsider would see it as a genuine smile. "Welcome to New York!" He finishes, opening the door of the jet, revealing the city.
Unlike Tony, Bruce has to barely duck down to get out onto the private airstrip. Even though the air is smoggy, Bruce can breathe more easily now that he's not trapped in a giant metal flying contraption.
Ever since Ross, claustrophobia has become more of a problem for him.
"Mmkay," Tony interjects Bruce's thoughts, "So Happy's waiting for us over there, you still remember Happy, right? He's still my driver, he's great."
The biologist looks confused for a second before confirming, "Oh, yeah. Yeah, I remember him. Hogan, right?"
"Yep, Happy Hogan."
The two scientists walk out to the sleek black car, with nothing in hand.
Anxiety creeping up on Bruce, he plays with the cuffs of the sleeves, mindful that they keep the bandages covered all of the way down his arm.
It's not often that Tony Stark gets off of a jet without thousands of cameras flashing in his face, but now that they're gone, it doesn't feel quite right. He could really go for a drink right now. Just something to keep him busy and distracted.
Tony knocks on the tinted glass with a knuckle and waits for Happy to lower the window.
"I'll be driving back today, Hap,"
"You sure?"
"Oh yeah." Turning to Bruce he adds, "C'mon Brucie, ride passenger."
Looking rather uncomfortable Bruce stammers, "Uh, okay?" He spares a glance to Happy, but the driver doesn't seem bothered by Tony driving.
Opening the door, Bruce gets the reminder that Tony is rich. Really rich. The private jet really should've reminded him, but looking at the expensive leather seats and the tinted windows and heating/cooling and God everything is so expensive and he's wearing dirty clothes, and now he's gonna get all of the seats dirty and Tony's going to have to spend even more money on him, which is just ridiculous because he's already spending too much money on him simply bringing him back to New York, this entire things must be a joke and-
"Bruce?"
"Ah, yeah. Sorry, I uh," The shorter man trails off and forces himself to sit in the passenger seat. He keeps the grimaces to himself when he thinks of his tattered clothes touching the new seats.
"Alright!" Tony announces, slapping the dashboard and starting the engine.
While weaving through traffic Bruce lets his mind wander, ignoring the soft rock echoing throughout the vehicle.
He wonders if anyone in India will miss him. Well, not miss miss him, but notice that he's gone. He's sure the girls would, had they still been alive. At some point he had a friendly relationship with the fruit picker, even went to his family to eat dinner with them once. He's sure that the fruit picker will remember him. Bruce thinks that most people will notice that the American man that speaks Gujarati is gone, but won't think much of it.
Bruce Banner is good at disappearing. One of the best in the world, actually. Self-taught too. Most members of SHIELD get some good training on disappearing and slipping between countries, but Banner taught himself. It was either that or experiments.
A small shiver runs through Bruce's frame when he thinks about it, and Tony notices.
"You alright there?" He says, taking his eyes off the road to glance at his friend.
Shaking himself out of his stupor Bruce replies, "Yeah. 'Course."
Tony doesn't believe it, but he also doesn't have time to dwell on it. "Right, well, we're here, so I hope you're ready for the fabulous land that's the Tower."
Bruce grins and says, "You've always had a way with words."
Tony grins back and says, "You should see me when Pepper doesn't help me with speeches. Oh, oh God it's a trainwreck." Before Bruce can reply Tony tosses the keys to Happy and declares, "Go ahead and get this car outta my face. Take it for a joy ride, take it back, I don't care."
"Sure thing,"
Opening his arms Tony says, "As aforementioned, welcome to the tower. You can have four, five, six floors, two labs, a Hulk-out room, and enough sugar to kill ya."
"Uhm," Was Bruce's oh so elegant response.
Jerking his head toward the tower Tony adds, "No seriously, we've had a bit of extra space of late. And we need to get you into some new clothes, so…"
Bruce nods and walks up to the doors with Tony. "It's unlocked," The engineer announces, "Fri recognizes my face and unlocks the doors. Easy technology, really. Could've done it in my sleep. And I'm ninety-nine percent sure I did it while drunk."
Although the last bit isn't too comforting, Bruce nods again and steps into the tower.
It's a lot to take in, even though he'd seen the specs and draft of it years before.
Tony must notice his sense of overwhelm, because he guides the smaller man to the elevator and says, "Lab, Friday."
"Friday?"
"New AI. I mean, you were here for JARVIS and Ultron and all of that fun shit. Friday was born not much after."
"Didn't you have a back-up for JARVIS?" Bruce inquires, pinching and fiddling with the outside seam of his pants, much to Tony's dismay.
Shrugging the engineer answers, "Sort of. Not really. But he's not completely dead. I have this, er, not really AI, he's is own person, so that's something. Almost like a son, really-"
"A son? Tony!"
"No, no, not that kind of son, I know what you're thinking. It's this human, but it's made out of code- long story, anyway, he's living here, but he sorta has an actual, idontknow, girlfriend or something? And she's some, well, kid really, who screwed my brain, and it's honestly just such a mess right now." He finishes and turns to Bruce who looks even more overwhelmed. Great. Good job, Tony.
With big eyes Bruce asks, "Is that all?"
Tony confidently says, "Oh yeah. Definitely. Well, I mean, of Vis?"
"Who?"
"Ah, yeah, that's his name. 'Vision'."
"Oh."
"Yeah, it's rough. Oh, one more thing- he walks through walls."
Tony says it so nonchalantly Bruce almost misses it. "What?!"
"Ah, don't worry about that. You'll get used to it surprisingly fast. And I've gotten him to start using doors more recently, so that's good." Tony grins at the last part, and Bruce can't help but give a grin of his own.
It feels like ages to the both of them since they bantered around.
But it really has been ages, hasn't it?
The elevator gives a quick 'Ding!' before the doors open to reveal the lab.
When Tony looks over his friend is completely in awe. Bruce breathes deeply and looks around at all of the tools around him. The lab itself is giant, just like the old one, and everything in it is futuristic. There are a few holograms still up, presumably from when Tony left in a rush to get Bruce.
A whirring pulls Bruce out of shock and when he looks down a certain needy robot is trying to get his attention.
Glancing at Tony Bruce asks, "Dum-E, right?"
"Yep." He answers, popping the 'p'. "Hey Fri, is Rhodey in the tower?"
"Colonel Rhodes arrived five minutes before you, returning from physical therapy." Comes the voice in the ceiling. Bruce has to remind himself that JARVIS doesn't exist anymore, but he can't help but miss the old british voice.
Tony nods and says, "Perfect. Tell him to bring down some clothes to the lab."
"Okay, boss. Is that all?"
"Yeah, that's all." Then, turning his attention to Bruce he says, "Alright, let's check up on those arms."
Instinctively, Bruce wraps his arms around his waist, even though they're still covered by the sleeves of the old jacket.
Tony notices it and tries his best for comfort. "It's just me here, you know that, right?"
Bruce nods and says, "No, yeah, I know. It's just… Can we maybe do this another day?" Tony opens his mouth to object but Bruce continues, "Or I can just change the bandages by myself, maybe?"
Pulling up a chair for himself and Bruce Tony softly replies, "Bruce, Brucie Bear, it's okay. I'm not gonna do anything bad, no one needs to know about this, 'kay? Not even the other people living in the tower. It'll be out secret. We'll be like twelve year old girls that keep secrets from their parents. Sound good?"
Bruce manages a smile but doesn't say anything.
"Colonel Rhodes is at the elevator, Boss." Friday's voice interjects, ruining the moment. Tony reminds himself that she's still a baby, and she's still learning about when to and not to interrupt.
Tony pats Bruce's shoulder before replying, "Send 'em in."
"Tony," Rhodes starts, "I brought clothes but why the fuck would you-" He eyes settle on the smaller man. "Oh. Hey Bruce."
Hiding behind his curls he answers, "Hey."
"Tony told me you were coming, but I didn't realize, that um, that you were the person that needed the clothes, otherwise I'd-"
"That's okay." Bruce quickly covers, not wanting the other man to feel guilty.
From the side with a devilish grin Tony says, "Let the bonding ensue!" And receives a glare from both of the other men. "Anyway, thanks Rhodey, but that's all."
Rolling his eyes Rhodes asks, "Alright. You gonna come up for dinner today?" Which catches Bruce's attention.
Shooing his friend into the elevator Tony replies, "Always, Rhodey. Always."
After he leaves and the elevator starts going up Bruce inquires, "When's the last time you ate dinner, Tony?"
"So many questions, Brucie."
"What can I say, I'm a man of science. And you're evading my questions again."
Sighing Tony answers, "Fine. There's a few nights here and there where I forget to eat dinner but that's nothing new. It's not like I'm purposely avoiding dinner itself." Bruce doesn't look satisfied, but Tony's not surprised. "And now you're the one avoiding the changing of the bandages."
Bruce sighs and curls up a bit on the chair. "Fine."
"Bruce, I'm not gonna hurt you or judge your or anything I just need to make sure they aren't dirty and they won't get infected."
"I said it was fine, Tony."
"Okay." Tony confirms. "Dum-E, get the first aid kit."
Seconds later the bot rolls to them carrying the first aid kit. As well as a fire extinguisher.
Shaking his head with fondness Tony mutters, "I swear to God, Dum-E your obsession with the fire extinguisher is not healthy. I'm gonna have to rewire you or something."
Dum-E lowers his claw in sadness and rolls away after dropping the kit at Tony's feet.
"Dum-E seems to have more emotions." Bruce observes.
Chuckling the engineer replies, "Nah, he's just old. He's like a senior citizen in 'bot years or something. Gonna have to give him up to an old folks home soon enough."
Bruce smiles and Tony lightly pulls his friend's right sleeve back. "Just tell me if it hurts, okay?" Tony's not the best at comforting, but he can at least try.
The biologist murmurs a small, "Okay," and bites his lip. With his left hand he rubs the side of his jacket with anxiety.
"Bruce," Tony says, "I promise, I'm not gonna hurt you, and I'm not gonna tell anyone about this. In fact- Friday?"
"Yes, boss?"
"Blackout until I - and only I - tell you to stop."
"Sure, boss."
Beginning to unravel the bandages Tony says, "There. Now Fri's not even recording. It's all good. Blackout protocol makes sure that no one can get in our out of the lab, and Friday's shut down until I say the right words."
Bruce doesn't reply this time, but looks with a scientific curiosity at his arms.
Tony gives a sympathetic hiss when the bandages fall and his arms are revealed. Long, thick lines run down from elbow to wrist, all stitched up with medical grade thread. The engineer tosses the old bandages to a bin on the left and then asks, "Can I clean it?"
He gets a silent nod in response.
Pulling out rubbing alcohol and cotton balls and gets to work, ignoring the glorious stench. Each time Bruce involuntarily flinches back from the stinging Tony gives a "Sorry", but still continues on.
A few cotton balls later Tony wraps up his arm with practiced ease. "Too tight?"
Bruce shakes his head.
"Too loose?"
Another shake.
"Comfortable enough?"
A nod, this time.
Still holding the other man's arm Tony softly says, "Brucie, you're gonna have to give me a bit more than that."
"It's fine." Bruce hoarsely whispers, barely audible to Tony.
"Bruce." Tony warns, but with no malice.
"I'm fine."
Sighing, Tony surrenders. "Okay. Other arm now?"
Bruce shoves his coat sleeve down and brings his other arm up, with slow, robotic movements.
Tony starts and almost finishes the whole process over again before Bruce quietly says, "I thought that I had done it."
Pausing wrapping the bandage Tony asks with equal volume, "Done what?"
"Found a way." Bruce replies beneath his curls in what seemed like a negative decibel of sound. "Found a way, without the Hulk."
Tony doesn't press more, because he understands.
I thought I had found the way to end my life without the Hulk interfering.
Bruce quietly continues, "I mean, even if those hikers didn't find me, the Hulk would've, would've, he would've,"
Tony finishes dressing the wound and pulls the sleeve back down.
"I know, Bruce. I understand,"
The doctor collapses off the chair, spine seemingly gone, until Tony catches him, sliding down on the floor with him.
In the strange embrace, Tony mutters, "You know Bruce, I'm glad they found you. I'm really fucking glad those hikers found you. Really fucking glad."
Instead of replying, Bruce sobs into his shirt.
"I'm sorry, Tony, I'm sorry."
Stopping tears of his own, Tony replies, "I know you are, but you never have to be. Ever."
After a few more minutes Tony half leads, half picks up Bruce to the couch in the lab. He tells him how everything will be alright. That he's safe now. That nothing bad will happen anymore, and they'll get through it.
Lies and lies and lies and lies and then more lies after that.
Once Tony's sure his friend is sleeping, he stops murmuring the lies and wanders over to the bar, obviously in his lab. Because he's Tony Fucking Stark, dammit.
And he drinks.
And drinks.
And drinks.
And drinks.
And drinks.
Because whenever he drinks, someone's always there to find him and give him a stern talking to, because that's what has happened every other time.
So he continues to drink.
And drink.
And drink.
And drink.
And then drink some more.
He falls unconscious with a bottle.
The stern talking to never happens, though.
Blackout protocol is a bitch.
A/N Hey I hope you liked it, and please consider reviewing! I'd love to hear your thoughts and reviews really make me smile!