After much prompting via my beautiful followers, I've finally found a little time between this ridiculous Biology project I'm doing, weird friends trying to socialize with me, and my mothers constant stressing over my life. It's okay, I appreciate all of your reviews, and please keep them coming which means please keep yelling at me and telling me to update! I need the inspiration. Also, I really hope you guys keep reading my stuff. I've honestly been thinking about dedicating a book around this plot using a pair of my OC's because of how popular it's been.

Let me know if I'm lacking in anything; my writing, grammar, or even the content itself. I will take suggestions for the furture chapter, so if you'd like to see something happen within this story don't feel shy, I'll read them and take each one seriously. Just please don't feel bad if I don't use your idea. I'd really appreciate a little help though. It took me so long to figure out what to do with this one!

Anyway, enough about me, onto the story!

He sat alone in his 7 by 12 foot bedroom the light of a new Saturday washing smoothly against his off white and stained sheets. He doesn't recall what time it is, and all recollection of anything past the night prior has all been but pushed from his caring. What is there to think? Another fight, another one way war lost, and more shreds of hope plucked away from that in which was hanging from fleshy cut wounds. He's sick of hope now, because it just serves as another nuisance to his what would be life.

All of a sudden there's a voice, one in which sounds like therapy to his tortured eardrums. Tony Stark, right outside his wall, and his father (oh, does that ever produce the most hideous laugh from his dried lips) speaking together like old lost friends.

Tony Stark is better then he'd given the teen credit for.

When he hears the hinges of his door creep open he sits up immediately. Don't embarrass father in-front of company, he thinks, no wanting to tempt the old man further.

"Boy, your uh- study partner is here. You didn't tell me he was the son of Howard Stark." His father said with conviction in his voice and probably in his eyes as well. "Be home by 9, I mean it." Bruce's only reaction was a short and painfully respectful nod.

That voice, he's never heard that voice before, and he almost wants to cling to it because of how completely human it sounds. For a few short lived moments he allows himself to feel that such a pleasantly normal timbre is being directed specifically for him. Of course it's not really, it's more for show then anything else, but this way at least pretending becomes easier. It's almost the only connection he has with his father, an understanding that shall he ever get out of line, even with a hair misplaced, he will have something vitally unpleasant coming for him.

He shook his head up and down slowly, careful of his every muscle and what it was doing. He could never be outwardly sure, that was the hell of it, sometimes he'd mess up without necessarily meaning to or even sometimes not knowing what he had done. "Yes, sir." Right, okay, that was good enough he supposed. No need to be chastised for being polite. Then again, if it were under any other persons point of view, he'd see clearly that there should never be a reason for him to be punished. He never did much of anything that could be categorized as 'wrong', as a matter of fact, he has always been quite the goody-two-shoes when the moment arose.

Apparently he had zoned out partially throughout the goodbye, and was now standing in wait for his 'partner' to either say something or get him out of that God forsaken household, one in which has not much 'hold' left within it's cracked walls and yellowing paint.

"Wow, your dad's a real dick."

Bruce is surprised to hear that, but he tries not to show it too much. Of course he agrees, but he can't let himself think it. Such a thing as personal thought could get him into worlds of hurt.

They start to walk, and it almost feels strange being with someone else and feeling as if he knew were he was going more so then the other person did. That was a rare sensation and one that he didn't really like. Such a thing would sound so strange to anyone else, but he was no leader, even without his father constantly telling him so.

"So that's what you gotta' deal with everyday? No wonder you're so quiet, I would be to. Sorry if this is weird or too personal, but he seems like one of those military dads who-"

"Can we please stop talking about him?"

Pause.

"Oh, right, sure... sure, uh- hey, I got my car." Bruce feels the other move close to him and stiffens as he closes the front door. "Want some help? Sorry. I know you can-"

"No, I'm okay with that. Thank you."

He hears a distant chuckle and wonders if he's said something strange. He tries to not allow that to get to him but it sort of has already. He's still feeling so vulnerable from the night before. He's just happy that he was already wearing his hood before Tony arrived. Hopefully he could keep it on all day.

Tony helped Bruce to the passengers side of the car, and all the curly haired teen could think about was questioning how close Tony felt. It wasn't in a strange way, is what he told himself, he was just not used to being helped like this. Most people assumed he was capable of doing everything himself, just because he was blind and never used a cane. To assume he was just really good at hearing where others were all the time was biased and incorrect at best. If anything he was angry that people never asked these questions about him. He never got mad outwardly though he became just a bit snippy if someone caught him off guard.

He didn't have a cane for one reason and one reason only, not his pride or capability, but the fact that his father was so cheap and careless that he didn't bother getting the things Bruce needed because of his handicap. Then again to him this was all his problem anyway. He would get a job if anyone would even allow it, and buy himself one someday. In the meantime, yes, his hearing was adequate enough for him to get by on his own.

That wasn't saying that he didn't greatly appreciate Tony's efforts. As a matter of fact, he couldn't have been more grateful. He wasn't really the stubborn type, nor prideful, if anything he was the opposing factors of both characteristics.

He opened the car door for himself and sat down, making a face when instead of a comfortable seat his rear was met with a hard and crumpling surface. "Oh, yeah uh..." He heard, pulling (what felt to be a magazine) the object that he was sitting on out from under himself. His nose scrunched up when they were pulled away from him. "Those... aren't mine - oh, wait. Uhm. Never mind. Sorry about that. Forget it."

"What?" He just shrugged it off when instead of getting an answer the passenger door closed. He just dropped it thinking that it was just another 'Tony thing' he should get used to.

That was his excuse for the basis of Tony's bizarre antics.

"Where are we going?"

He heard a shuffling next to him but no answer came for a short amount of time. Bruce didn't see any reason why that should worry him, and it didn't, but he also didn't want to be ignored for something seemingly petty. "Seriously." he added, making it clear that he didn't really feel in the mood to play games.

"I thought it would be weird to ask, but uhm... I just - thought it'd be cool if I got to know you better. So you can pick were we go. I know I asked you to come with me and all, but..." there was a light chuckle at the end, and even though Tony's voice started off unsure and then sort of awkwardly reversed into being somewhat playful, he could tell the other was... what, feeling nervous? But he didn't have to be, Bruce didn't think he had given the other a reason to feel that way so all of a sudden Bruce was feeling confused and slightly self-conscious.

Maybe it was his blindness, because he had to admit that most people normally became a little uncomfortable hanging around the handicap. And Tony was clearly a person concerned with his image it was practically marked into his blood by birth. That wasn't his fault neither was it anyone else's wrong doing. Everyone has been programmed to dislike what they determine as being different. Bruce knows that ruling better then most do within a life time of experience.

"I don't really care where we go."

"Really? You have to like going somewhere."

"I do, it's just... I don't go out a lot."

"With a father like that? No. Woulda' never guessed."

Bruce actually almost laughed at that, but he managed to get off with the smallest quirk of his lips that he could manage. It was enough for Tony to notice however, and he made that obvious fairly quick. "Aaaah, see... there ya' go. I actually got a smile out of you that time. I got plenty more where that came from, buddy. Just wait and see."

As much as Bruce wasn't sure about how that little playful vow made him feel, he still smirked at the other. Maybe being by the rich infamous Tony Stark wouldn't be so bad. It was certainly better then spending a weekend in Hell, so he would have to be contented by what he could get. He wasn't using Tony either, and he was enjoying his company so far, but he couldn't say that this wasn't just another excuse to get away from that wicked place.

"Since you're bent on making me choose, I guess we can always go get something to eat. You hungry?"

"I... could go for a burger, yes. But I don't have any-"

"Money? That's covered. I'm rich remember? Ha. The fact that you didn't just assume I'd pay is pretty cool." Bruce flicked when he felt a hand pat gently against his chest. Careful or not it hurt and startled him. He was glad that Tony either pretended to not notice or decided to ignore it all together. He really didn't need or want to have that discussion with someone he barely knew.

The car right was decent, and if he were being honest with himself he would even say it was fun. Eating out in public was something he hasn't had the privilege for in years. It brought back good memories of a healthy face he had forgotten long ago. He could remember beauty in a voice. Her soft timbre, those dark brown eyes that he inherited from her before they became ruined and ugly. Someone who cared about his feelings, whom held him as he cried, listened to all of his fears and consumed them like the ocean tide. Like a mother to her baby. He never let a day pass him where he didn't torment himself on the thought of his mother.

He and Tony however laughed, teased, and joked about petty things. How he could get along with anyone so easily was beyond his comprehension. He was confused and timid in his approach, as Tony was bold and demanding in what he wanted from others. It was harmonic in a strange sense that left tingled in the wake of his smiling voice. Strange as he couldn't decide whether it was a positive dynamic or not. There were so many pending questions to be answered. Should he run? Or let himself fall into bare security?

"That was a blast! Hey, call up your father and ask if you can just stick at mine. I mean... only if you wanna. I just don't see a point in driving all the way to your house when mine is closer."

He didn't see why his father would oppose, he would probably be glad to get rid of him for a night so he could be alone and drunk in peace. But then again, mysery loves company. Bruce didn't make any noise at all when he was at home, but that never stopped Brian from putting up a fit over every little thing he ever did. As unfair as it was, he accepted it like a prison sentence. "Okay." he gave the other teen his fathers number and when Tony handed Bruce the phone his whole demeanor changed. One had to be cautious when talking to Brian. He wasn't a man, as much as he was a time bome. One false move could get you blown right off the face of the Earth.

"Okay. What's the dealio?"

Bruce didn't even bother to retain his epic, sarcastic eye-roll. "He said it's okay. But... I need to be home by one tomorrow." he felt around for the cup holder, placing Tony's phone inside of it with a delicacy that wasn't very nesicary. Anything that Tony owned would probably be worth five of himself. Plus, as honest as he could be, he didn't want to disrespect the person who's been nice to him, putting up with him for so long already.