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Title: Torn Between the Light and Dark. [1/3]

Summary: Tony Stark and Bruce Wayne may be friends now, but they had a bit of a rough start. It was all Howard's fault.

Warnings: References to child neglect and emotional abuse of one young Tony Stark.

Disclaimer: I don't own the Dark Knight Trilogy, Iron Man, or any of its characters. Sadly.

OoOoO

They reached the mansion without incidents a little past 2:00 AM after Bruce got a hold of the keys of Tony's Audi in exchange for downing a glass of scotch rather than the alcohol-free cocktails he had been drinking all night. Of course, he had to do more than that to get the other billionaire to leave with him.

The party had been Tony's idea. They always were. And while Bruce hated parties and avoided them as much as he could without looking suspicious being a billionaire playboy, he couldn't deny parties with Tony Stark were something else entirely.

For one thing, they were always away from Gotham so he wasn't forced to work the room shaking hands left and right with a bright smile that made his cheeks hurt. And even if he did have to play the part a little, he had Tony at his side to hoard all the attention and let him loosen up a little.

And of course, being with Tony Stark made it impossible to be bored.

As soon as they stepped into the mansion, Tony ignored JARVIS' greeting and strode past the living room without a word.

Bruce hesitated where he stood, tempted to follow Tony to make sure he wasn't going to do anything foolish, but in the end decided against it. Tony sadly had plenty of experience to function normally while intoxicated and besides, he wasn't really that drunk. At least not yet.

The Wayne heir headed instead to the living room area, declining JARVIS' inquiry on whether he needed anything. He took off his jacket and toed off his shoes before dropping onto the large sofa.

He opened his eyes and turned his head to the side when he heard the soft sound of footsteps, and watched Tony return with a bottle in each hand.

"You promised," Tony reminded, holding out one of the bottles.

And there it was, the way he convinced Tony to leave the party. He promised he would drink with him- really drink as long as they were away from the crowd and indoors. In a secure place where he knew he could let his guard down, even if only a little.

As soon as Bruce took the offered item, Tony moved to slump at his side.

"Well?" Tony questioned, a dark eyebrow arched. Bruce conceded, pulling open the bottle and bringing it to his lips. Satisfied for the time being, Tony followed suit.

Somewhere along the way, Malibu turned, it seemed, into a kind of safe haven for him. A place he could retreat to when he was too stressed and overwhelmed to fulfill his duties efficiently, or more precisely, a place to go when Alfred had enough of his brooding and temper and kicked him out of the Manor.

Things didn't turn that bad often, but Alfred was a master of getting his point across with dry remarks and polite arched eyebrows when he thought he was working too much, both in and out of the cowl.

So, it was at Alfred's insistence that he was here, even if he was sure this was not what the butler had in mind.

Alfred's silent disapproval of his friendship with Tony back when they were young was no secret, and Bruce couldn't find it in himself to blame the older man. He was only looking out for his charge, and Bruce could admit Tony was far from being an ideal role model or influence, especially during his teenage years.

Even now, Bruce suspected Alfred still didn't fully approve of him or their relationship (just like he didn't fully approve of Batman and a lot of his decisions), but he knew for a fact Alfred had developed a soft spot for the other wayward billionaire a long time ago, and the fact he was grateful for what Tony did for him wasn't the only reason.

A snort of amusement at his side brought him out of his thoughts.

"What?"

"Oh. Nothing. Just thinking back to the first time we meet." Tony turned his head in his direction. "You remember that, right?"

"Of course I remember. You weren't very nice then," Bruce accused lightly.

"Yeah, well. Excuse me for being less than thrilled by the forced babysitting duties, Brucie-bear." Tony countered before taking a swig.

Bruce rolled his eyes. "I was almost seven. I hardly needed supervision."

"You sure about that?"

"Oh, shut up," Bruce took one of the cushions and threw it at his face playfully. "No one told you to stay, Anthony. I was alone in the library when you came. You could have left when you noticed I was there."

"Actually, I couldn't," Tony pointed out with a sharp smirk. "Guess I never told you why my dearest father took me with him to Gotham. Or why he let me skip the boring ass meeting in the first place."

With narrowed eyes, Bruce waited as Tony drank some more.

"It was because of you, actually. He wanted me to keep you away from the study so you wouldn't interrupt the meeting like the last time he visited the Manor."

Bruce had always known Howard Stark had never been to Tony even half the caring, supportive father Thomas Wayne had been to him, and yet, on the rare occasions Tony opened up and shared small details about his childhood, Bruce was always appalled to learn just how different their fathers had been.

"At least I got to kick your ass at chess, right, Brucie?"

It was an obvious diversion and they both know it, but after a moment's pause, Bruce chose to go along with it.

"No, you didn't."

Tony straightened up in a blink. "You're kidding, right? Of course I did! You didn't even last twenty freaking minutes!"

"We played together and you won, yes, but," He added as Tony was about to speak. "It doesn't count because I told you I was still learning to play."

"Excuses, excuses," Tony dismissed with a wave of his hand as he slumped back on the sofa.

"Speaking of which, you never did make that robot I asked for," Bruce commented in one attempt to dissipate the lingering tension. He didn't think they had ever talked about that first meeting before now.

"Oh, but I did."

He blinked. "You did?"

"Yup. It barely took any time at all. I was planning to give it to you the next time we met, but well ... I'm sure you remember what happened."

"I do," Bruce said solemnly.

How could he forget that the next time they saw each other was at his parents' funeral? Tony had looked strangely subdued and had stayed at his father's side the whole time-or at least every time Bruce had looked his way-even when Howard had been deep in a conversation with someone else. The older boy hadn't even once met Bruce's eye, let alone spoke to him aside from the polite condolences he gave him.

It was strange how many small details like those he remembered from that day, even if he could barely recall any of the words that were said to him. Maybe because he hadn't wanted to remember all the empty words and false sympathy.

He knew now some of them had been sincere in their words, but it didn't really change anything.

"Jarvis suggested I give it to Alfred so he could hand it to you later." He added.

"You didn't." It wasn't a question. He knew Alfred would have given him the robot if it had been handed to him.

"Couldn't. My dad saw it just as we were about to leave the house. I got nervous and made the mistake of telling him it was for you. He threw it out of the car and told me to stop with my stupid games." Tony tipped the bottle against his mouth. "I guess he was kinda right, you know. You're not supposed to bring gifts when you go to a funeral.

"I just wasn't sure when we were going to see each other again," He added with a shrug.

Bruce wasn't sure what to say, so he lifted the bottle to his lips instead. Tony was right, of course. With his father dead, there was no reason for Howard to go back to the Manor, and with both of his parents gone, Bruce had been absent for years from events where they may have crossed paths.

A tense silence settled between them. It wasn't uncomfortable exactly, but it was there and it didn't feel right.

Tony groaned, head tipped back and a hand covering his eyes. "You're not a fun drinking partner. You know that, right?"

"I said I was going to drink with you, not entertain you," Bruce fired back without hesitation.

"Well, I don't see much drinking going on, you know,"

Bruce tipped the bottle in his direction before bringing it to his lips.

"I don't suppose you'll be amenable to invite a couple of nice girls to come over to help us relax a little."

Bruce hummed. "Tempting, but not. I think I'm relaxed enough as it is."

"You monster! Why do you always have to take away my fun?" Tony whined.

"Someone has to, Anthony. Otherwise, you'll end up having too much fun. We can't have that, can we?" Bruce replied with a lopsided smile.

The older billionaire snorted, but give no reply.

"Sitting here just drinking is lame, so we should at least watch something or something." He furrowed his brow in thought. "I know! There's a bunch of crime shows I'm sure you'll love, so we can watch one of them to pass the time. We'll even put a fun spin to it and make it a test. Let's see how fast you can solve the murder or whatever," Tony added with a wave of his hand.

"Let's not."

"What? I thought you were a fan. I mean, they must be great to help hone your skills without there being a real murder and shit."

Bruce made a face. "Except they aren't. The last time I was on bed rest Alfred made me watch one of these. The number of inaccuracies I counted in only a few minutes was ridiculous. I went back to sleep rather that keep watching," He added.

There was no reason to mention why getting out of bed to change the channel or simply turn the TV off hadn't even been an option. Tony knew Alfred, after all.

"He said it was an incentive too," Bruce added after taking a swallow. "Told me if I wanted to avoid a repeat of that ordeal I would have to be more careful with my nightly activities."

"Damn. Good ol' Jeeves is a ruthless bastard."

Bruce shot him a pointed look at the offense, but Tony just shrugged.

"Alright, we can watch something else." Tony scratched the back of his head. "A movie maybe? Got any suggestions?"

"Uh,"

"Seriously? Are you too busy with the whole 'I'm vengeance, I'm the night' schtick," Bruce's muttered 'I never said that' went ignored. "That you can't even name a single movie you want to watch?" Tony narrowed his eyes. "Have you even watched one movie released in the last two- in the last five years?"

"I have far more important things to do than watch movies," Bruce replied defensively.

"Bullshit. If you tell me you haven't at least watched the new Star Wars movies I'm going to have to smack you." The skeptic look on Bruce's face made him add, "I'll even go put on the suit if I have to."

"I did watch them," Bruce admitted with a wry twitch of lips. He very deliberately didn't mention the fact that was one of the very few times he had used his name and money for something as selfish and trivial as getting a private screening before the premiere.

"Don't scare me like that again, Brucie," Tony exclaimed, a hand over his heart. "I was ready to kidnap you and lock you in a room with nothing but movies to keep you entertained."

Bruce snorted. "As if you could."

"Don't tempt me," Tony said with a wink. "Anyway, we're definitely making movie night a thing from now on, and that's final. I can't let you drown in your ignorance of pop culture, Brucie. Hell, at this point I think even Captain Tight Pants knows more about current culture than you do. And that's just sad 'cause he's like a hundred years old and has been back in the land of the living only for a few years."

"You have no idea how little I care about that."

"You should," Tony told him. "JARVIS?"

"Yes, sir?"

"Can you be a dear and put on a movie for us? Nothing we have to pay too much attention to," Tony tilted his head slightly to the side. "You know what? Put whatever movie was voted worse last year."

"Why would you willingly watch a bad movie?"

"You've got to be kidding me. Okay, the thing about really bad movies is that they are so bad that they end up being funny instead. How about that?"

"Is that supposed to make sense?" Bruce replied dryly.

"Just watch the damn movie, Bats," Tony said with an eye roll.

"Wait. What about the popcorn?"

"What?"

"The popcorn to watch the movie." He clarified, keeping a straight face.

"You want popcorn?" Bruce only shrugged in reply. "Okay. If you want popcorn you can go get it yourself."

"You're an awful host, Mr. Stark."

"Nuh-uh. I offered you alcohol and I give you alcohol." Tony pointed out with a nod to the bottle Bruce was holding. "If you want anything else you can get it yourself, little prince."

"Fine, but I'm not sharing," Bruce warned as he got to his feet.

Tony snorted. "Right. Why would I even want popcorn when I have scotch?"

Bruce ignored that, but a smile tugged at the corner of his lip as he walked toward the kitchen. Right now he felt lighter than he had in months.

OoOoO

a/n: I promise we will have the actual first meeting in the next chapter, but this scene was part of the idea right from the beginning and I really wanted to share it too. I hope you enjoyed it as much as I enjoyed writing it. ;)

And, I'm not even kidding when I say this idea has been in my head for more than a couple of years. I even mentioned it to a couple of people a while ago, but it wasn't until now that I finally was able to write it down. So, let me know what you think!

This is unbetaed and I'm not a native speaker, so please feel free to point out any mistake you may find.

The title was taken from the song "Quicksand" by David Bowie.