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Bruce squinted at some test results JARVIS had pulled up on the computer. The AI had pulled up different colored graphs and charts for him to compare his most recent blood tests to the ones he’d done previously. The doctor knew the test results would be the same, but he still liked to check the radiation levels regularly. It was an old habit.
An old habit that having a high tech lab had made significantly easier.
He smirked as Tony let out a hiss from across the room.
“Everything okay over there?”
“Yeah,” he replied dryly.
He dropped the blow torch on his desk and sucked on his finger. Bruce could see the frustration in his eyes, the tension in his shoulders. The doctor eyebrows furrowed, and he swiped the projected charts to the side. They disappeared as Tony glanced over.
“You okay, Tony?”
The engineer pulled his finger out of his mouth and examined it.
Bruce sighed, a familial warmth in his chest, and made his way over. Tony sat stoically on his stool. He opened the bottom drawer of his friend’s desk and pulled out the first aid kit that Pepper had insisted on. Out of the corner of his eyes, he saw Tony rolling his eyes dramatically; he couldn’t help but huff a laugh as he grabbed the mechanic’s hand. The burn was very little, and just a little red, but it probably did sting.
“Listen, you’re the one that burned yourself,” he smirked.
The doctor rubbed his finger with an alcohol swab before opening a small packet of the burn cream and carefully spreading it on his appendage. After, he grabbed a bandaid and covered the one inch area.
Tony muttered a thank you as he stretched his back out. They’d both been in the lab for a few hours, and the engineer had been slouched over one of his boosters the whole time.
Bruce glanced at his friend again, the one who was being uncharacteristically quiet, before he looked towards the ceiling. “JARVIS, what...” He rubbed the bridge of his nose underneath his glasses. “What time is it?”
“It is eleven eighteen at night, sir,” the AI replied politely.
The doctor groaned and looked at Tony. “Did you eat?”
“Nope.”
Shrugging off his lab coat, Bruce closed his eyes. “Food, then.”
He was only a few steps from the elevator when he noticed Tony hadn’t risen from his stool. Bruce looked back curiously. The engineer was staring pensively at the bandaid on his finger. His eyebrows were drawn together, and his lips were pursed.
“Tony?”
“Can you promise me something?”
Bruce swallowed. The sober tone in his friend’s voice was extremely rare. Usually, jokes and sarcasm were his first line of defense. If Bruce suggested a break, Tony joked that geniuses didn’t get breaks.
“Um, sure?”
“No, I need you to mean it.”
“Tony, what’s wrong?”
“Just promise me.”
“Okay. What-what am I promising?”
“Promise me that you’ll never lie to me.”
Something caught in Bruce’s chest as their eyes met. A heavy weight rested there. He knew Tony’s past; he knew how many people had hurt and betrayed him. He knew he must still hurt, but Tony kept his pain so carefully guarded. He hid it beneath layers and layers of humor and wit. He preferred to busy his mind and his body rather than take a moment to think about the pain of the past. And he kept himself so locked up that no one could get close. Pepper, Rhodey, and Happy were the only exceptions.
Bruce wasn’t a therapist, but if he were to give his opinion, he would say that Tony suddenly being very vulnerable was a huge step. Even if it was just a moment.
“I promise,” he said seriously. And he meant it. But something in Bruce hurt, too, so he countered with: “Promise me the same. Promise me you’ll never lie to me.”
Tony kept eye contact and answered in seconds. “I promise.”
There was a moment of sober silence before Tony jumped up from the stool and grinned. He made his way towards Bruce and clapped him on the shoulder.
“Food, then.”
The battle had been a little difficult. Maybe more than a little.
Tony was laying in a hospital bed in the Avengers Tower, sipping on apple juice as he listened to Metallica. There was a tablet of his own creation in his hand, which showed a complex formula for a potential way to clean third world water sources. He was still working through the bugs, and he really should speak to the actual doctor on their team before he—
The automatic door hissed open as a very human, yet very angry, Bruce Banner marched through the door. He had his own tablet in his hand, and his knuckles were white with how tightly he was gripping it. There was a passion in his eyes that Tony hadn’t seen before.
“Oh my god, Tony. Do you have a death wish?”
Tony suppressed a dark laugh because angry Bruce wasn’t the time for his lightning fast wit. His usually calm friend was clenching his jaw. His gestures were rough and fast.
“I—”
“Two broken ribs, a stress fracture on your wrist, two broken fingers, and a concussion.”
“Well, I—”
“You took your suit off during a fight—”
“Bruce, I—”
“—to be a distraction, Tony?”
The engineer swallowed thickly. His doctor had him on some strong pain meds, but they certainly weren’t strong enough to defend against the disappointment in his friend’s voice. Tony suddenly realized that his friend wasn’t angry...
He was scared.
The tension in his shoulders, the furrow in his brow... He might have been upset with Tony, but more than anything, there was fear. And in a moment, Tony understood. Bruce had been alone for so long. General Ross had chased him around the world, making sure he could only stay hidden in third world countries. He had to learn the languages of the places he lived in, disconnected from the people around him. And as soon as he’d grown even a little bit comfortable, Ross had found him and he was forced to relocate. To a new place, a new people.
The Avengers were probably the first friends he’d had in a very long time.
Tony was probably the first friend he’d had in a very long time.
“Please, Tony,” Bruce whispered. It was starkly different than the loud passion that had laced his voice before. “You promised to never lie to me.”
It’s true. He did.
Tony looked at his hands, fighting the warmth behind his eyes. His fourth and fifth finger on his left hand was in a cast. His arm was wrapped in bandages. So was his chest. So was his head. He probably looked horrible.
“Please tell me you won’t do that again.”
Shame suddenly filled his chest because he knew he was reckless. He knew his actions bordered on the imbecilic. But there hadn’t been time to think it through. There was a need—he filled it. He didn’t plan for the next step. Frankly, he didn’t think anyone would care.
“I won’t,” he said quietly.
He met Bruce’s dark brown eyes so he could see the truth there. The resolve. He truly hadn’t known it would affect his friend so much. Or at all. And he needed Bruce to see that he was sorry. He needed Bruce to know that he meant it.
“I won’t.”
They were in one of the extra living areas. Bruce had asked if he could use it as a place to meditate. Well, less meditate, and more to ‘conduct mental exercises to help him control the Hulk.’ Tony just labeled it meditation.
And somehow, Bruce had succeeded in pulling him into joining him.
It meant a lot of sitting in silence at first, which wasn’t Tony’s strong suit. He was used to keeping his hands busy working on a new creation while his mind worked on a different complex problem.
Bruce said it might help him with his more self destructive tendencies. Simply being might help him slow down and handle his panic attacks. His friend also wanted to show him some breathing techniques to help him calm down if he felt one coming on.
Honestly, Tony was grateful. Because he’d rather be doing this with a friend than with the person Pepper paid him to talk to every few weeks. His friends had been helpful and supportive, but this... a small smirk played on his lips. This was his friend taking time out of his day to help him.
“Okay,” Bruce said quietly. “Work on belly breaths. Slow in, slow out.”
They were sitting cross legged on the floor across from each other. JARVIS was playing some white noise from the overhead speakers. Bruce was in simple workout shorts and an oversized tee. He wore a matching workout set that was way too expensive.
Tony did as he was told. He inhaled, held, and exhaled. They’d been just focusing on breathing for a while now, and Tony would be lying if he said he didn’t feel calmer. Which was weird in itself. There was a wry smile on Bruce’s face. He knew this was helping.
Tony knew that Bruce had begun doing this to help him control the Hulk. Or, then, to get rid of the Hulk. He’d told him about Portugal where he’d learned Aikido to aid him in his suppression. But he also told him how the breathing exercises had stuck with him. How it had helped him as he fled and hid and fought.
And helped him with his emotions: the feelings of loss and despair.
He’d admitted once that he’d... tried. But the other guy had made him live anyway.
And...
“Can I ask you a question?”
Bruce’s eyes were closed, but the corners of his eyes were still crinkled with a smile. The engineer saw his breaths paused as he hummed in affirmation. Half of him wanted to take it back. This was a genuine, kind moment between him and his best friend. What if his question ruined it? What if he ruined it?
Another part of him, the one that still struggled, desired to know if maybe this was the answer.
“Are you...? Do you...?”
Bruce’s soft eyes met his. He looked amused. It wasn’t typical for Tony to be hesitant. He usually blurted out anything and everything he was thinking and feeling. But this... this was special.
“Um...”
“It’s okay, Tony,” he said reassuringly. The smirk fell slightly, as though he could sense the importance. “Ask.”
Tony let out a breath. “Do you still want to die?”
A calm silence filled the space between them. It wasn’t painful or uncomfortable, just calm. Tony watched Bruce’s brown eyes fall to his lap and saw him swallow. And for a moment, the engineer thought that that might be his answer.
Bruce’s voice was soft as he spoke. “Sometimes.”
He must have seen the question in Tony’s eyes because he continued.
“It’s not really a yes or no question,” he explained.
His tired eyes flickered between Tony and his own hands. He continued breathing even though the engineer felt like he couldn’t breathe at all. Wasn’t it a yes or no question? And what did he mean by sometimes?
“Being... being suicidal is more of a spectrum.” He pulled his left hand out from his body, extending it far from his right hand. His voice was steady. “On one side intrusive thoughts or suicidal ideation where you think about death but don’t have any desire to die. Then comes passive suicidal ideation where you think you’d be better off gone, but no thoughts of... doing it yourself. Then-then there’s active suicidal ideation where you think about how, but don’t have a plan.” He glanced to his right hand. “Then there’s intent, or attempt, which explains itself.”
He tilted his head with a mournful smile. His hands fell back into his lap. “Does that make sense?”
Tony nodded slowly. It did. More than he wanted to admit. The way he’d always understood it was as a yes or a no. So when Pepper asked if he was okay, he’d say yes. Because he wasn’t on the far right end of the spectrum.
“And where are you on the spectrum?” he asked quietly.
Bruce’s mournful smile turned bittersweet. “Well, that varies day by day. I typically go between ideation and passive. Sometimes active. But it hasn’t been bad in a long time.” He met Tony’s hazel eyes. “I’ve been mostly okay for a while. A lot of that is thanks to you.”
The engineer cleared his throat and let out the breath he’d been holding. The weight in his stomach lightened, and he was dangerously close to getting emotional. He was sure he hadn’t done anything to help, but he was absolutely relieved. His friend felt safe. That’s all that mattered.
“Yeah, well... Happy to help.”
Tony landed on the snowy ground, his heart racing in his chest. His chest hurt and it had nothing to do with the explosion. The Iron Man suit opened and the engineer immediately stepped out. Goosebumps crawled over his skin at the sudden freezing air, but Tony ignored it as he rushed to his friend.
“Bruce. Bruce, I swear to god...”
He fell to his knees next to the unconscious man. His breath was coming in gasps. His chest was bare—he must have been freezing—and his pants were shredded. He was still modestly covered, and Tony was sure he’d be grateful for that. Bruce’s eyes were clenched shut as he curled in on himself.
“Bruce, it’s me.”
His shoulder...
Tony set his hands on his friend’s head and hip to try to extend any comfort he could. The man’s pained eyes snapped to him, only a hint of green that was still receding. His shoulder was a mess of knotted skin and blood. The smell of burned flesh assaulted Tony’s senses, and when he whimpered in pain, Tony wanted to weep.
“Tony...”
“Listen, you’re going to be fine.”
Bruce grunted and curled in on himself a little more, leaning into his friend’s touch. Already, Tony could see the Hulk’s healing ability taking over. Too slow for his liking, he saw the edges of Bruce’s marred skin soften as his cells rebuilt the muscle.
“Are you... are you okay?” he breathed.
Tony tried to keep his focus on him. Only on him. “I’m fine, you idiot.”
They’d called Code Green only a few minutes ago. Bruce had bravely come into the fray, let the Hulk have his fun, but then... Some bastard had fired a missile launcher at Iron Man. At him. Hulk saw it before JARVIS even registered the incoming attack. He’d jumped in front of him. After the explosion, the Hulk had receded, leaving Banner bleeding on the battlefield.
“Look at me, I’m fine.”
“And the others?”
“They’re fine, too,” he said. They were still fighting far away. Iron Man had checked out from the fight to help Bruce. They’d all understood. “Everything’s fine now.”
“It-it really stings.”
Tony grabbed his friend’s hand and squeezed. “You’ll be fine soon.”
His wound already looked so much better. It was about half the size, but the healing was slowing. It wouldn’t even leave a scar on Bruce’s body when it was finished. Tony just had to keep him safe until then. JARVIS would bring the quinjet to them, and he’d be fine.
“Bruce, why?” he asked suddenly. “Why the hell did you do that?”
He was still breathing hard and irregularly, eyes opening and closing between waves of pain. “Technically, it was Hulk who—”
“Bruce. Tell me the truth. You promised to tell the truth, remember?”
He saw his friend swallow thickly. Bruce squeezed his hand as he took a moment to breathe. He met Tony’s hazel eyes and sighed.
“Because you’re my friend.”
Tony would deny the warmth in his chest and the wetness in his eyes as he held his friend close. The quinjet landed several yards in front of them. They were going to be okay. It was going to be fine.
Tony knew he screwed up when Bruce walked into the lab with that look on his face. His shoulders were a little tense, and his brow was pinched. His glasses rested on his nose, but behind those frames, the engineer saw the worry.
He knew it was his fault. He knew he swore too loudly at times, and made too many self-deprecating comments lately. He had a short temper the last few weeks, especially with himself. He’d avoided his friends. Avoided Pepper. Avoided Bruce.
He was perfectly self aware. That was part of the problem.
“Hey, Tony,” he began.
The mechanic met his eyes only briefly before going back to working on his blaster. He ducked his head as his stomach flipped. “Hey.”
Bruce set down the tablet he’d been fiddling with and slowly sat down on a nearby stool. “I’ve been looking for you. I wanted to see how you’re doing.”
“I’m fine,” he replied easily.
“I... I don’t think you are.”
Tony pressed his lips together and felt his shoulders tense. Steve was mad at him. Pepper was probably upset with him. Nat was definitely still fuming from their interaction the day before. The last thing he wanted to do was piss off another friend.
But he really didn’t have the patience for this right now.
He’d be fine. Sure, he was depressed as hell and hated himself more than ever, but it would pass in a few weeks. It usually did.
“Bruce, I—”
“Our promise,” he started. There was a pain in his voice. “Remember our promise.”
Tony bit his tongue and closed his eyes. Every muscle in his body ached from the tension he’d held onto for god knows how long. His head hurt. His chest hurt. He thought he’d had his anxiety under control until Bruce walked into the room. He wanted nothing more than to get up and leave. But he knew Bruce wouldn’t allow it.
There was a lump in his throat as he nodded at his friend.
“Where are you on the spectrum?”
Tony knew what he was talking about. Actually, he’d been thinking of the suicidal spectrum a lot lately. Or, trying not to think about it. He rolled his tongue around in his mouth, jaw clenching at the bitter taste. He knew if he spoke, he’d have to tell the truth. And if he told the truth, he would be admitting that... that he wasn’t okay.
“I’m on it,” he breathed.
Bruce hummed. “Passive or active?”
The mechanic squeezed his eyes shut. He didn’t want to say it. He knew he was a disappointment. There was no need to press the matter.
Bruce rolled his stool closer until he was beside his table. He pulled his glasses off his nose and set them down. His eyes were soft and filled with that quiet warmth Tony had associated with his friend. The warmth was patient. It was kind. It was comforting.
“Passive?” he asked again. When Tony stayed silent, Bruce continued. “Active?”
Tony didn’t want to say the words, but he gave a soundless nod. He looked back at his lap. He didn’t want to see the pain in Bruce’s eyes. It was his own fault. It wasn’t Bruce’s doing. All Tony had done was hurt people lately. He hadn’t wanted his friend to be one of them. But he’d promised to tell the truth. And that was that.
Now that he’d told the truth, the doctor would probably leave. He had his answers. He would leave Tony to stew and hope that he got over it quickly. He’d give him a wide berth.
He didn’t expect a warm hand to wrap around his forearm. His head shot up and met Bruce’s eyes. His eyes were glossy, and there was an empathetic smirk on his face. It was a proud smirk. But Tony hadn’t done anything. He hadn’t done anything to earn that pride.
“It’s going to be okay, Tony,” he said quietly. His hand squeezed his forearm. “I’m here for you. I’m not going anywhere, Tony.”
The mechanic swallowed thickly, still not meeting his eyes. His throat burned and tears lined his lower lid. He felt like he couldn’t take a deep breath. They were words he wanted to hear, but... but not words he could accept.
“I’m right here,” he continued. “I’m... come here.”
Bruce got off his stool and closed the distance between them. He wrapped his arms around him and pulled him close. Tony... Tony didn’t know what he was supposed to do. So he did nothing. Then Bruce gave him a gentle squeeze, and so he brought his arms and returned the hug. Something in his chest snapped. Something deep inside him broke.
The breath he’d been unconsciously holding came out a muted sob. He didn’t know when he started shaking. But Bruce only held him tighter.
“I’m here, Tony. You’re not alone. I’m here.”
Tony sobbed again, quiet and low, pressing his face into his friend’s neck. Tears leaked out of his eyes unbidden. God, he hurt. He hurt so much. He still couldn’t catch his breath. He still trembled as he cried.
Bruce pulled back just far enough to look him in the eyes. Tears stained his cheeks too. He put a hand on the nape of Tony’s neck. “I”m right here. And I’m not going anywhere.”
It was hours later. Bruce had made Tony eat something light and drink some electrolytes. They sat on the couch in the living area of Bruce’s floor for some privacy. It was so late at night, and Tony was genuinely exhausted.
The doctor had dragged him there, and despite reminding him several times in the past that he wasn’t a therapist, he’d listened as Tony just talked. Rambled mostly.
But he felt lighter than he had in a long time.
He owed that to Bruce.
The man sat next to him on the couch. He looked tired too, but he’d never once complained. Never once made Tony feel like he was being a bother. Never once made Tony feel like he was going to be abandoned.
He just sat there and listened.
“I know how it feels,” he explained. “I know how it feels to feel like you have no one.”
Tony nodded lightly.
“But you have friends now, Tony. You’re not alone.”
“Nat and Steve might disagree.”
Bruce huffed a laugh. “You should probably apologize, but they would never abandon you either. If they knew... they’d be right here with me.”
“Please no,” he said quickly, with a small chuckle. “This was embarrassing enough without adding them to the mix.”
“I know it won’t change how you feel, but there’s no need to be embarrassed. I’m happy to help.”
Tony’s chest warmed at the endearment in Bruce’s voice. They’d made a promise not to lie to one another so long ago. Tony never knew the impact it would have down the line, but he was so grateful for it. He was so grateful for his best friend.
“I wouldn’t lie to you, Tony,” he said quietly. “You’re going to be okay.”