Chapter Summary: In which Tony wants to smash a few things himself, Bruce feels anxious, and a new face shows up.
A/N Not a very Bruce centered chapter (sorry, I love my suicidal cinnamon roll too, just wait for the next chapter), but a new face enters the picture!
Both of the scientists go into a minor panic, leading into the AM hours.
Bruce stis, unmoving and staring at the oh-so-interesting countertop. Every so soften he breathing picks up, but he's able to get it back down again.
Tony stands right back up, and starts mindlessly walking around the kitchen, occasionally muttering words, but the only ones that Bruce can decipher are "Fucking Ross," and "Fucking fuck, I'm going to fucking kill him." It does little to calm the biologist down.
After fifteen minutes both of them are able to calm down a bit, and Tony declares, "We're getting blood samples. We're doing something so stop whatever the fuck is happening with your body, sound good? Good. You know what? Don't even answer that. It's rhetorical. We're doing it whether or not you think it's a good idea, because it definitely is," The engineer spares a glance at his friend and adds, "Oh Friday, go open up my lab"
"I am sorry Boss, but Colonel Rhodes has prohibited your use in the lab from eleven-thirty to five." Friday calmly answers.
To reply Tony just mutters, "Well override that shit, because this is an emergency!"
Bruce doesn't say anything, and continues to sit quietly in his chair, occasionally pulling at the old bandages on his arms, wondering when he should take them off.
"Boss, to override 'Tony Stark Needs To Fucking Sleep' protocol you need Ms Potts' or Colonel Rhodes' voice of consent in order to enter the lab."
Tony spends about a second thinking about it before he answers, "Well then wake one of them up and tell them to get their ass down here. What part of 'emergency' do you not understand, Fri?"
Before the AI can answer, Bruce looks up and murmurs, "Uh, that's, that's not necessary. I'll be okay until morning. It's only a few hours, so uh, we don't have to, um, to wake anyone else up." His eyes flicker between his friend's face and the wall, too anxious to stay in one place.
"Bullshit. Fri, go wake Rhodey up." Then, with an incredulous glare at Bruce, Tony adds, "What the hell, dude? I know that your self-preservation skills are shit, but even getting a few extra hours on this could-"
"Could what, Tony?" Bruce interrupts, surprising them both. "Could save my life? Could help us catch Ross once and for all? It doesn't matter, Tony. Whatever the hell happened to me already happened, and we don't even know that it was Ross,"
The billionaire barely waits a millisecond before speaking up, "Oh I'm sorry, do you know any other psychopathic assholes who are after a scrawny scientist that turns into a giant green rage monster? Because I sure as hell don't."
"That's not what I'm saying-"
"Oh? Then what the hell are you trying to get across?"
"If you'd let me talk then I'd tell you!" Bruce says, a green fist breaking the expensive countertop, before turning back into the pale flesh of Doctor Banner.
Stark looks up with a weary face and eyes the counter. He tries to hide the natural fear, but he can't do it fast enough.
Pushing his hands into the pockets of the jacket Bruce mutters, "Sorry, sorry, I just, I, I'm just gonna go now. We'll talk, we'll talk in the morning." Without waiting for a reply, Bruce flees the kitchen to go back to his room. Once he's in the elevator, he checks his fist, and much to his relief it is completely flesh colored. There's a scratch or two, but nothing he can't handle.
Tony, on the other hand, still stands on the kitchen floor, in a state of minor shock. After a few moments he calls, "Friday,"
"Yes, Boss?"
"Keep an eye on Bruce. Make sure he doesn't do anything stupid."
"Of course, Boss." A pregnant pause spreads in the room before Friday adds, "And Boss, Colonel Rhodes is coming down."
Tony slumps down in a chair and murmurs, "Oh for fucks sake," to no one in particular.
Sure enough, a few minutes later Rhodey tiredly walks in. "Tones?"
To reply, the engineer just mumbles something unintelligible, and Rhodes wordlessly fills up a glass of water for his friend. After he sets down the glass and sits, he asks, "You wanna talk about it?"
Tony snorts and responds, "Really Rhodey? Do you know me?"
"Well," The Colonel starts with a smile, "Can't say I didn't try. Now c'mon, have some water." Satisfaction runs through Rhodes when Tony has a few sips of the water.
"Hey Rhodey?"
"Yeah?"
"I'd fucking kill someone for a drink right now."
"I know, Tones, I know."
The old friends sit in silence for another thirty minutes until Rhodes drags Tony to the living room on the floor and pushes him onto a couch. Then, after draping a blanket over him the billionaire whispers, "I really fucked up."
"Mmhm," Rhodes says, noncommittally, knowing that whatever comes out of his friend's mouth, he's going to regret it in a few hours. He's danced the dance of Tony's sleep deprived ramblings. At least this time he's not drunk.
Shaking his head, Tony clarifies, "No, like, I really fucked up. Really, really, really, really fucked up." He looks up at his friend, eyes wide and guilty.
"Just try and get some sleep, Tones. We'll talk in the morning." The Colonel tries to soothe, 1 AM heart-to-hearts all too familiar.
As if he didn't hear the last statement, Tony continues, "I'm not afraid of Bruce, you know?" He starts, staring straight into Rhodes' eyes. "It's just a fucking reflex. Flinching away, but not 'cause I think he'd hurt me."
Rhodes can only imagine what went down before he woke up, if the countertop is anything to base it on. "Yeah, Tony, I know. I think Bruce knows too. But neither of you guys have gotten enough sleep lately, and-"
"Bruce is in trouble." Tony interrupts, with a nervous swallow.
It certainly catches Rhodes' attention. "What? Since when? What happened?"
"He's sick, Rhodey. Really sick, or something. Someone is trying to hurt him, or trying to kill him, I don't know. I need to find a way to save him."
"Tones, it's not your responsibility to save him, you know that, right? There's also me and Pepper, and Vision, hell, even that Spider-Kid can help."
Tony just shakes his head in defeat. "No, no, I need to help him. Something's after him."
Rhodes sighs and says, "Get some sleep, Tones. We'll talk in the morning, when everyone's gotten some shuteye."
"'S not safe," Tony mutters, but his eyelids are already betraying him.
Rhodes slips off his braces and squeezes himself next to Tony on the couch. "It's alright. I'll make sure it's safe." He turns to Tony and gets a weak nod, but otherwise he's already out.
Before falling asleep himself, the Colonel wonders how little his friend's been sleeping, or eating, or just simply taking care of himself. He can't imagine it's much, despite his and Pepper's attempts at helping.
Bruce goes back to his dark room, lays on his bed, but doesn't sleep. Panic, anxiety, and fear stop that pretty damn well, nevermind caffeine.
He thinks of the innocent people in Alaska, and the calm hospital. The doctor that stitched him up with a sympathetic gaze and a pat on his knee. The nurse that wrapped his arms in pristine gauze, telling him that it's standard for him to talk with a psychiatrist. His mute reply, and the being lead to a room.
What if they were working for Ross? All of the ordinary people, but in reality soldiers.
Was all of it fake? How many of those people knew who he was? All of them? Or only the nurse that gave him the "anaesthetic"? Or maybe she didn't even know. Maybe it was someone completely different that gave that nurse the needles.
Bruce groans at the thoughts swimming through his brain and rubs his temple.
When the thoughts keep circling through his head and his breathing keeps picking up pace, Friday asks, "Are you in need of assistance, Doctor Banner?"
Bruce quickly shakes his head. "No, no, I'm fine."
He's relieved that Friday doesn't respond.
Minutes, and minutes, and even more minutes pass, until it's been hours, and Bruce is still thinking of Fairbanks.
The scientist ignores all of the doctors and nurses around him.
It's not too many, only one doctor and a few nurses, but it's far too many for him. At some point, the nurses deplete in value, but get more concerned.
He hears her voice, but it sounds like it's distant, and in a different language. Logically he knows that it's not; she's standing a foot in front of him and speaking English, but Bruce's brain doesn't seem to get the picture.
He feels his head gently pushed between his knees, and resists. "હું મજામા છુ. મને સ્પર્શ ન કરશો," (I am fine. Do not touch me.) he mutters, before realizing his mistake and quickly repeating, "I am fine." He doesn't miss the concerned look she gives him, but she does retract he hands.
"Can you speak English?" She asks in a far too calm voice.
Bruce wants to tell her that he obviously does, he just told her that he's fine, but a small sentence doesn't really portray fluency. "Yes," He answers, still not proving fluency, but she'll just have to take the answer.
"Alright," The nurse answers. "I'm going to put this around your arms, okay?" She asks, holding up what looks like a clean washcloth.
Bruce nods, but otherwise makes no indication that he heard her.
While applying pressure on his arms, the nurse asks, "Can you tell me a bit what happened?" Her voice sounds so soothing, tricking the biologist into a sense of safety.
But he still shakes his head, much to her dismay.
She opens her mouth to reply, but before she can there's a knock on the exam room door, and a doctor walks in. She quietly closes the door behind her and pulls up the rolly chair next to the bed.
Like the nurse, she has a voice like a honey when she speaks to him, "I'm Doctor Anne Miles," She looks at him, obviously expecting a reply.
Bruce doesn't give her one.
"I'm here to go give you stitches, is that okay?" She tries, looking at him with a concerned face.
Still, the scientist doesn't move his eyes off of the wall.
Doctor Miles looks up at him and says, "I need to know that you're aware of me giving you stitches. Can you please reply?"
From a voice that doesn't sound like his own, Bruce replies, "I understand."
Mutely, he knows that his left arm is now exposed, and the nurse is telling him that she's going to give him anaesthetic, and that it might feel weird, but that's normal, and in a few minutes it should numb the area.
He gives nods when he's supposed to, but he doesn't really feel any of it. Some part of his brain is screaming at him that he's dissociating, but he's much too far away to dwell on it.
Suddenly both of his arms are now no longer bleeding, and wrapped up in pretty bandages. The nurse and doctor talk for a second, but then they leave. Within seconds another person walks in.
He introduces himself as a therapist, but Bruce pays no mind to him. He tosses some words around but Bruce's mind only picks out the important bits, "Self-harm...shock...rest..."
At some point the nurse comes back and they both make sure that he gets to a new room. It's not obviously an exam room, and there's two beds, both empty.
They deposit a numb Bruce on one of the beds, and the therapist mutters more words to him. The biologist waits thirty seconds after they leave before exiting himself, unsure of his plan.
He gets about fifteen feet until a new nurse stops him and gives a disappointed look. "Going somewhere?"
"...going to have to ask you to stop, Doctor Banner, or I am authorized to alert someone else in the tower."
Friday's voice pulls the scientist out of his memories. When he looks down Bruce realizes he's subconsciously scratching his arms. Almost instantly he stops.
"Thank you, Doctor Banner. Shall I alert-"
Bruce cuts the AI off. "No, that's not necessary. I'm still fine."
A few moments of silence pass until Bruce asks, "Who's in the tower, Friday?"
"Other than you, the following people are in the Tower: Colonel Rhodes, Miss Potts, and Mister Stark. Would you like me to wake any of them?"
The scientist scowls, "No, Friday, stop trying to wake them up. Are you sure there's no one else here?"
"I am sure. I can identify the people in the close vicinity of the Tower, if you'd like." Friday answers, voice echoing in the nearly empty room.
"That's okay," Bruce mutters, still not feeling a tad bit safe. He does, on the other hand, feel satisfaction that everyone else is asleep, mainly Tony. He doesn't need to be that kind of doctor to know that Tony isn't getting enough sleep.
Bruce doesn't have anything in his room other than a few spare t-shirts, so he opts to just sit on his bed and fiddle with his thumbs. Of course, 'fiddle with his thumbs' for Bruce translates to 'scratching, picking, and destroying his fingers' so his digits are raw and bleeding within the hour.
Another hour passes, and Bruce's phalanges are covered in flakes of bloody skin, and now even the air aggravates them. He goes to his personal restroom and runs his hands over cold water for far longer than necessary.
The good doctor spends the rest of the early morning sitting on his bed and thinking of random chemical formulas.
He doesn't sleep, but he doesn't panic either, so it's not the worst case scenario.
Out in the living room on the twentieth floor, Tony and Rhodes sleep nearly soundly, both comforted by the others' presence. Six floor above sleep Pepper Potts, dreaming about a press conference from nine years ago.
Everyone and everything is alive and well.
So naturally, something just has to go to shit.
At 5:37 AM, Friday wakes up her creator.
There's a very familiar intruder in the tower.
Hastily, Tony helps his friend get into his legs, both hearts beating at an extraordinary rate. Then, the engineer calls down a suit and flies down to the bottom of the tower to see the intruder for himself.
The fact that it's not Thaddeus Ross calms Tony down a bit, but he's certainly not happy to see the person.
"Natasha Romanov. How familiar this looks. Or should I just call you 'Natalie Rushman' while you're invading my life again?"
The spy doesn't show any emotion when she replies, "Stark," Cocking her head she asks, "Do you sleep in your suits now?"
"Well pardon me if I'm a bit on edge lately, what with all of these Russian spies coming to my doorstep."
With a smug smile Natasha asks, "Oh? And how many Russian spies have come to your doorstep lately?"
"Just shut the fuck up," Tony snaps, "Why the hell are you even here? At - what time is it Fri? - at 5:40 in the morning? Couldn't wait at least another hour?"
"Why would I? I'm aware of your sleep schedule, Stark."
Snorting, Tony says, "Well you'd be surprised to know that I was actually sleeping when you decided to break in.
Natasha hides her surprise by noting, "I technically haven't broken in,"
"You're in my lobby,"
"Which is in the outside,"
"It's on my property,"
Natasha shrugs. "Semantics,"
Tony really wants to try out his new rocket launchers on her, but stops himself. "Why are you even here, Nat? I'm guessing it wasn't for old times sake," The engineer bites his tongue when he wants to ask about Cap.
"You're not too far off," She answers cryptically.
With a snort Tony mutters, "Yeah, not buying that. Last time you met up for old times sake you stabbed me with a needle."
"Never gonna let that go, are you?"
"You stabbed me!"
"It was a small needle Stark. You've been through worse."
"Whatever. Now this time try answering. Why are you here, Natasha?"
"The world hasn't seen or heard of Tony Stark for over a month-"
Tony interrupts with a growl, "So you came here to spy on me, just like usual. I guess it really is like old times sake."
The spy just sighs. "Would you believe me if I actually came to make sure you weren't dead or nearly dead?"
"Nope." Tony answers, popping the 'p'. "How many people are you going to report back to after I cut this meeting short?"
"Honestly, Stark, I'm not here to spy. I am actually concerned about you. Starks have never been known for their great bouts of radio silence."
Tony rolls his eyes inside of his suit. "Yeah, no kidding. Rest assured, I didn't get kidnapped again." A pause sits between them until Tony asks, "Are you going to break in if I don't let you in?"
"Yes."
Knowing better than to argue with the Russian Tony flips up the face plate and says, "Well then, mi casa es su casa." And then opens the door to the tower.
There's been a few changes to the Tower in the past few months, due to Tony's paranoia, but Natasha knows her way around it like a second home. She hates to admit that at some point it really was a second home to her.
"Friday," Tony starts, "Tell Rhodey that there's nothing to worry about. For now."
"Okay, Boss." Friday answers, but sounds uncertain. With a pang in his chest it reminds Tony of JARVIS, and his uncertainty to people. He pushes the feeling down along with the rest.
The engineer lets the suit disassemble itself, and climbs into the elevator next to his old… Friend? Enemy? It changes with each encounter.
When the elevator opens to the twentieth floor, Tony can almost imagine all of the avengers sitting across the kitchen, or slung against the couches. With a quick shake of his head he makes the image disappear.
Rhodey takes a single look at the red head and exclaims, "Her? I put away my gun but I'm thinking that I should've left it out."
"It's all good, Rhodey-bear," Tony says, even though he doesn't even believe it himself. "Apparently she's here on her own accord - God I fucking hate that word. I'm banning that word from this fucking Tower. Friday, if anyone says that in here go electrocute them."
"How's Friday going to manage that?" Natasha asks, crossing her arms.
Grinning, Tony answers, "I 'electrified' the floor and walls. Friday can taze people now. Want a demonstration?" He can almost feel the disapproving looks Rhodey and Natasha give him.
"You've been coping well." Natasha notes, sarcasm dripping of the words.
"Fuck off, Nat. If I wanted to be judged I'd call up our dear Captain."
Feeling the tension in the room rise, Rhodey quickly intervenes, "I'm sure you would, Tones. Now, let's get a bit of food, shall we?" He glares at the spy the entire time, and walks over to the kitchen.
The engineer can see Natasha's look at his friend's ability to walk, biting his lip so he doesn't start a fight.
As it turns out, Natasha starts it first. "You're walking already?" She asks Rhodes. Take it from Natasha to be blunt.
Tony snaps and glares at her, "Fuck you. You know what fucking happened to him? He fell from fucking thousands of feet in the air, in a metal suit. Anyone else he'd be permanently paralyzed. Hell, a drop like that should've killed him. So as soon as I got out of the goddam ICU I worked every fucking day and every fucking night to give him the ability to walk. Something that all of us take for fucking granted." By the end, their faces are only inches apart, so Tony takes a step back.
Only to throw a punch at her unseasonable nice face.
Of course, Natasha sees it from a mile away and easily stops it, with a tired face. "I don't want to do this again, Stark." This time she takes a step back and Tony can see her face scrunch up in confusion for a second before she hides it again. "Why were you in the ICU? You barely got a scratch from Germany."
Tony freezes up, and it doesn't take a spy to notice it. Hell, a four year old could notice it.
Any possible food now abandoned, Rhodes grabs onto his best friend and leads him to the couch.
Tony does his god awful breathing exercises that Doctor Reeves is hell bent on him doing. Much to his relief, they actually work, and after a few extra minutes he glares at Natasha and says, "Glad to know that I cleaned up any evidence. Did better than I thought I did, if even someone like you couldn't find it."
"Find what? Stark, what happened?" Natasha asks, not bothering to hide her confusion. Tony decides he likes seeing the spy confused for once.
"None of your fucking business. You lost your right to find out. And for your information, I got away with a bit more than a scratch from Germany.
Natasha takes a threatening step forward, and Rhodes' fingers itch for his gun. "Why were you-"
Everyone in the room jumps (save for the well trained Russian spy) when a harsh and stern voice asks, "What the hell is going on in here?"
Before even turning around, Tony grimaces and says, "Hey, Pepper," Drawing out the 'hey' to make it a polysyllabic word.
"Why are you in the kitchen, and why is she here?" She asks, pointing an accusing finger to Natasha. When Tony turns to look at her, she's already dressed in professional clothes and heels, ready to face the world as the 'Virginia Potts, CEO', rather than 'Mother hen to Tony and all that lives in the tower'.
Before Cap up and left, Pepper and Natasha became something of friends, bonding in the fact that their worlds were extraordinarily male heavy. Now, though, Pepper shows no sympathy towards the woman. Not when she could've done something to prevent a nearly life ending fight.
"Miss Potts," Natasha starts, putting on her smiley mask on.
Pepper on the other hand, is having none of it. "Why are you in the tower? Why are you even in New York? I don't care what Tony says, he's not pulling any favors-"
"Pep, she's here for her own twisted enjoyment." Tony interrupts, facing his CEO.
"Why?" The woman drawls, sending a look of daggers at the spy.
Natasha sighs and says, "Is someone going to tell me what happened to why it seems so unnatural for me to visit?"
Crossing his arms Rhodes mutters, "Well for one, never in your life have you ever visited for fun, and unless you got a good knock on your head, I'm sure you can remember what went down barely a month ago."
"I made a choice," Natasha starts, voice rising at a small but steady rate. "And my I knew that if I didn't get Steve out of there, the fight would continue on before people got seriously hurt, or worse. I made the most logical decision, Stark."
Tony slams his fist down on his thigh (he'll worry about the forming bruise later), because of the lack of things to smash around him. "People already got seriously hurt! Unless you call paralyzation from the waist down an easy little injury?!" He brings his fist up again, but Rhodes grabs it before it can either connect with his leg or Natasha's face.
"I had no idea that you all would continue to chase-"
"Bullshit." Tony interrupts, harshly jerking his hand from Rhodes' own. "If you all would've let me explain, I'd point out how the fucking Accords would've pardoned Barnes and gotten him the help he needed! But ol' Stevie becomes goddam blind and deaf whenever Barnes' in the picture."
Natasha opens her mouth to respond, but Pepper beats her. "Alright, everyone here needs to sit down, and calm down, and stop yelling at everyone. It's too early for this, and I should've been on a jet ten minutes ago.
Russian spy forgotten, Tony turns toward Pepper. "Wait, what? Since when were you supposed to be out?"
With a sigh she replies, "Tony, I told you I was going to LA three days ago. But I can still cancel, if you need me here,"
"No, no, it's fine," The engineer mutters, wondering when he received this information and why he didn't remember it. "Whatever you're doing over there is more important than this shit hole called home." Pepper gives him a look, but doesn't say anything or move. "Seriously, Pep, go to California. I don't want to keep you waiting, at least anymore than I already have. Go," He adds, with a sincere smile.
Pepper looks unconvinced, but slips past the three to the elevator anyway.
After the doors slide closed, Rhodes looks straight at the spy and says, "I don't know why the hell you thought you could just come and 'visit' Tony, so let me tell it to you straight: You need to leave right now. If it's urgent, please schedule a meeting with the woman who just left."
Natasha sends a deadly look to him but the Colonel doesn't flinch. "I'm just here from curiosity. The world's barely heard anything from Stark since the United Nations meeting. If it makes you feel any better, I don't particularly want to be here either-"
"Great, then leave." Tony interrupts, but Natasha ignores him.
"I just came because Steve wouldn't answer any of my questions."
The billionaire snorts. "Oh good, Rogers is too cowardly to even admit what he did."
"Tones," Rhodes warns, not wanting him to spill anything through spite.
Natasha, thirsty for answers presses, "Tony, what happened after Germany?"
But before he can answer, a small voice from the edge of the elevator breathes, "Natasha?"
"Bruce?"
A/N ( only)- On Ao3 I got 1000 hits, so I featured a fun fact about myself over there. Instead I'll just let you guys know that there's gonna be a lot of juicy hurt Bruce next chapter ^-^
Also- Please review guys! I never plead, but I've gotten one review on this story, even when the stats show that people are reading! It makes my day and makes me smile :)