I don't usually update on a Sunday but I figured I owed you for my absence. (Sorry about that.) To answer some questions, I will not be writing smut as it seems creepy for Steve to screw Tony when Tony is out of it and if he recovers he will be very, very fragile. There will be sexual references though, as usual I will give warning when there is one. The plan I have after I complete the story is to re-read and re-upload chapters snuffing out any grammatical errors I have missed. Thanks for staying tuned.
It took a long time for Bruce to calm down. When Steve brought Tony back, he'd regressed. He'd settled himself down and kept his lips firmly shut and stared into space with a glassy look covering his eyes. Steve expressed he had pulled the trigger and helped Tony.
Bruce thought otherwise.
Bruce explained that it wasn't the trigger. What he had done wasn't helping anything. He'd pulled Tony into a state of 12 steps backwards. Luckily, Clint was there, dragging Bruce away in fear he got too angry and made a mess.
So Steve had made Tony regress. He looked at the broken billionaire who merely just sat with a sense of corruption stinging the air around him.
They were running out of options. What was Steve supposed to do? He was trying to get answers, but the way Bruce had described it, it was like he was ripping Tony apart piece by piece.
He didn't understand it anymore.
He just looked at the genius, looked at him, sitting there, broken. Staring into space. He called his name, but Tony didn't answer.
Was he even there anymore?
Sail
IX
Hermes
"Okay, Green. I need to know what exactly happened. Fury's going to have me on a silver platter if Tony's…" He couldn't finish the words. Instead he just went quiet. Bruce was a smart guy, and he knew what he was going to say.
"Steve didn't activate the trigger, whatever it is." Bruce confirmed it, rubbing at his temples with his glasses twiddling in his fingers. He took a small series of deep breaths attempting to just calm down. He needed to be in the right state of mind to help Tony. "Tony's in a box right now, and he's made of glass. It's like the ultimate defense but also the most fragile."
Clint had made him some water, placing it at Bruce's side which he took just to keep his fingers busy. He took a small sip, not at all thirsty but it still helped. The Archer remained with his arms folded and leaning against the door frame. Relaxed for someone sitting so close to an active canon.
"So?" Clint quizzed further, perking a brow. "I thought it was good for Tony to show a little emotion."
"No," Banner answered quickly. "We're supposed to approach with care. Steve just…" His hand tightened around the glass, but quickly loosened. He needed to just breathe. "It was like smashing the box around Tony, so Tony has put up a new wall. Or…"
"Or?"
"Or he's too broke to bring back."
There was a long silence between the two. As much as Clint had gotten to know Tony, a small part of his was worried about Fury's rage when he found out their top inventor was brain dead, or close to it.
"On the other hand," Bruce piped up, swallowing more water to put out the fire that was growing inside him. "I have no idea what this trigger is. Tony left bread crumbs for us with the Schrodinger's cat theory. He saw a cat, it triggered that. It just… I have nothing to go on anymore. In a way, maybe forcing open the box is our only shot."
Clint slapped his hand across his face, features twisting in confusion. He hated smart and complex things regarding the mind sometimes. He admired them from afar, but he really wasn't in the mood to deal with this.
"Okay, before we go about potentially breaking Tony into pieces, let's look at what we got. This cat thing and Tony." He pulled out two fingers each time he spoke. Sadly after months of investigations that was really all they had.
Then Bruce stopped. As if something had clicked.
Clint just looked at him, as if expecting the scientist to explain. But instead Bruce stood up so fast, he knocked the water over and sprinted out of the room. Clint literally had to press his back up against the wall to allow him to pass, opened his mouth to say something and shut it with a low growl.
"I hate it when no one explains things to me!"
And with that, he gave chase. Snaking his way to Bruce who searched the kitchen, the front room, the bedroom and finally finding Tony sitting quietly by Steve's side in Steve's desk area, watching him type up reports to Fury at a pitiful speed.
"What is it?" Steve asked almost dumbfounded at the sight of the panting Banner and Clint following swiftly behind him. (Although very much less tired.) "…Is something wrong?"
"I know what the trigger is," Bruce said quickly. He stepped into Steve's room, glancing around and licking his lips. He was looking for something, looking for the trigger. Steve's eyes followed him, almost confused as Bruce was. "…The trigger is in my office?"
"Well, it could be," Bruce said almost cryptically. Clint rolled his eyes again. Steve glanced between the two, as if trying to get an answer from either of them. But he didn't.
"Don't look at me," Clint said rather dead-pan. "I just shoot things."
Bruce finally grabbed a small side mirror frowning at it, and then nodding his head as if answering an internal question to himself. He scooted over to Tony, who all this time had remained still and quiet and staring blankly at Steve's reports, as he had done before Bruce had charged in.
"All we had was the cat theory and Tony. So since we've already figured out the cat theory, that leaves just Tony." Bruce squeezed himself in front of the billionaire, lifting the mirror towards him. "Tony, look into the mirror."
Clint looked at the actions as if this whole thing was a joke. He almost felt like laughing at it. "Whoa, what? Tony is his own trigger? In what world does that even make sense?"
"Because…" Steve piped up, his brows crossing in confusion. "Tony needed something that all of would have when he locked himself up. We'd have Tony."
"Bingo," Bruce whispered. He moved his hand forward, tilting Tony's chin to make him look into the mirror.
Tony remained still for a good few minutes, his eyes settling upon himself and nothing happened. Minutes turned into five, ten. Clint was beginning to think this was another dead end, Steve was about to give up too, but Bruce looked determined. Looking at Tony and willing it.
But nothing happened.
"Damn it," Bruce whispered. "I was so sure."
Bruce went to drop the mirror, when Steve grabbed a hold of his arm holding it up.
"Wait," Steve said softly. "Tony. Look at you. Look at what you've become. It's time to let go, like I told you." Bruce looked to Steve, as if about to question it – but they were out of options. "Like the snow balls. But this time you have to see it instead of throwing it."
Tony did nothing, again. He just sat there and Clint threw his arms up in annoyance and desperation. This was a dead end. Tony was as good as dead now, wasn't he?
Then Tony's chin moved. Tugging away from Bruce to look away. Look away from his reflection. Steve reinforced the grip, making Tony look. Tony began to get more frantic, he lifted his hands and pulled at Bruce and Steve, trying to get free.
It began to get desperate. He was fighting them both, but Tony was still so thin from only eating the bare minimum that he was no match for the super soldier and Bruce combined.
Tony started to cry, then he started to scream. His legs kicked and Clint had to quickly move behind him and secure the chair as they made him look at himself.
Tony shut his eyes.
And the screams didn't stop.