starkingenuity | The Not So Silent Hill

The Not So Silent Hill

[Continued from: here]

Staring at the little house, Tony was noteably unimpressed. The child and other half of a god (however loosely you wanted to use the term) really ought to have not been so...small. He was expecting more, and the way he stood with his hip out and arms crossed proved it. They'd take a quinjet to the nearest open field and one of Tony's smaller cars after that, loaded into the back of the plane after he'd ripped out a few seats.

With Extremis stable enough to exist in several now fire-breathing and extra strong mice rampaging through specially designed cages to contain them, JARVIS' databases and hacking ability getting them the information they needed to arrive here, and Alessa more or less content with the nurse she and Banner picked out, this had been the next logical step. Even so, he expected it to be a little more difficult.

Wearing a black t-shirt and dark jeans that only accentuated his somewhat femininely proportioned hips and backside, Tony Stark was still Tony Stark and flashiness and he went hand in hand.

Like a brand name.

It didn't help that the yellow convertible was parked across the street, in direct contention with the overall look and feel of the neighbor around it.

"You can knock." He wasn't too keen on touching things other people did.

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How many islands did Tony own?

Bruce nodded in agreement. Yes, even with the tattoo and all the work that went into stabilizing it, it was better to be safe than sorry where Extremis was concerned.

Alessa didn't stay awake long. Soon her image disappeared, and the body's breathing evened. Bruce still stroked her head absently.

"Tony, what do we do if it doesn't work?"

It was a sudden question. Looking down at her, her back bandaged and her skin red from touch, she looked so small and vulnerable. He wanted to wrap her in his arms and never let anything bad happen to her.

It was too bad he was about forty years too late.

Tony was not a helpless man as a general rule of thumb, but he felt that was now as he watched Bruce with the girl. "It's going to work," he said, because they did not have a plan B here and there was no time to figure out what it might be. "The only difficulty is going to be how to maintain her until she gets use to it." And by maintain, Tony really meant 'contain.'

That meant it would be up to Bruce to help. Indestructible or not, however, being hurt meant that the Hulk would come out and if the Hulk did... With Alessa and the beast together, it was very likely that the island would be turned to ash.

That was why he was sending the tattooist back on the quinjet.

There was another on the island any way if there was a need for evacuation.

"We can always try the mirror." Though the girl had threatened that once invited in-- Well. It was just the island, right?

"As a last resort. We can give her a little mirror, just in case."

Bruce gave Alessa a soft kiss on her head. The slightest peach fuzz brushed against his mouth. Her hair was already getting ready to grow again.

He let her go and sunk against the wall next to Tony, looking down at the girl and running through every worst case scenario he could think of in his head.

"How are you feeling?" With all the confusion and things to be done, Tony hadn't been given a lot of time to cope with his memory loss. Bruce wanted to make sure Tony was okay, now that they knew Alessa was.

It was a good enough question, one that made Tony smirk slightly, introvertedly. How did he feel? "A little hungry," he said, but it wasn't to be funny, he was just being truthful. "Still pretty angry. There's not a lot else to feel but confusion and I don't really like feeling that way...so I'm not going to," he decided.

Hungry and angry, therefore, would just have to do for now.

What he wanted was a little reassurance but asking Bruce for that might have been laughable. Kiss me because I don't remember and I want to seemed like an odd request so Tony didn't make it, even if this next leg of their journey could leave him seriously injured.

Somehow, that was not as bad as losing the last few days...and losing what felt like, to him, to be something akin to home. Could a person embody that? When Bruce had kissed him, the world seemed right.

It was pretty amazing and terrifying and wonderful all at the same time.

Bruce wasn't one to initiate affection at the best of times. Tony had always been the one to take his hand, to kiss him, to sneak his hands under his clothes. Bruce didn't know what to do with touches. He was too used to keeping people at arm's length.

And now, with Tony the way he was, he didn't want to push affection onto him. He was too scared of pushing him away.

He slid his hand against Tony's, loosely intertwining their fingers, giving Tony room to pull away if he wanted to. He wasn't sure enough of where they stood to give Tony all the touches he was used to receiving.

"I boxed the food, if you want to eat with me."

He was trying. He wanted to show Tony that he cared, that he wanted them to be okay, without overwhelming him or making either of them more vulnerable than they were comfortable with.

The simple touch of a hand on his, fingers brushing the back of his hand, pushed a smile on Tony's lips. He curled his hand around Bruce's and let his thumb slide over his knuckles. A sigh followed, something like contentment, something like a purr, though humans lacked the vocal cords for that particular sound. "Oh good, I was afraid that I might waste away to nothing!"

Tony had eaten a lot of food in his life but nothing tasted half as good as the meal Bruce had compared, shared from fancy red Tuperware containers on the floor of the quinjet like a pair of high school kids plotting weekend adventures. Though some of his memory was missing, or replaced by his mind's attempt to make up for that missing memory, Tony knew that he'd never had a friend like Bruce in his life.

And, perhaps, never had a lover (boyfriend? Even a girlfriend) like him either.

Bruce might have an aversion to displaying affection openly, but Tony was more than receptive to whatever came his way.

Bruce was smiling like he rarely did before he and Tony had gotten together. Tony had a way of making him smile, of making him laugh and chuckle and forget about all the things that weighed him down. He sat down on the ground, crossing his legs and leaning against the wall, occasionally brushing his fingertips against Tony's, gauging his reactions.

"One of these days, I need to show you how to cook. I might need to leave some time, and you and Alessa can't live on takeout." Bruce was smiling, picking at his food and figuring that Alessa would probably end up being the one to learn how to cook. He lived every day, wondering if the military was going to break into the tower and try spiriting him away. He worried that him going away was a real possibility. "Do you know how to make anything other than coffee?"

Tony just scoffed, food in his mouth. It stopped him from saying something about Bruce needing to leave. He remembered, vaguely, what it was like each time Bruce went off the radar. He remembered Pepper coming up behind him once, ruffling his hair, and telling him that his soul mate would be back eventually. Pepper had known even then-- It had taken Tony a few too many near death experiences in a row to figure it out, it seemed.

Tony let the thoughts go because Pepper had been right then and would continue to be right about Bruce. He'd come back. He had to. They needed each other. Maybe that was presumptuous. Tony tried to pull up memories that might fit the mold and provide him a true example of just why he couldn't seem to get Bruce out of his system.

Maybe it just didn't matter though.

Tony shifted so that his knee pressed against Bruce's thigh. "I make a mean omlet. And I can defrost frozen things..."

"Sir, if I might interject--" JARVIS stated before Tony interjected.

"Mute!"

Bruce was hyper aware of Tony's knee against him. He smirked at the wall, imagining JARVIS standing there with imaginary arms crossed and rolling his eyes in exasperation. "Maybe you can survive on questionable omelets and defrosted things, but Alessa can't."

He hesitated. He scooted closer and rested one hand on Tony's thigh, nothing overtly suggestive but something intimate. "I'm guessing Alessa will pick it up before you, though. You're terrible at domestic things. Do you remember trying to hem a pair of jeans in Silent Hill?"

Bruce remembered it vividly. He remembered Tony's bare skin on his, the gentle kiss he had placed on the back of his neck, the refusal to judge him for all his sins and baggage. He remembered sharing the fact that he had lied about his mother's death and murdered his father. He remembered all of it.

Bruce remembered. Tony did not. The hand on his thigh was thrilling in the way being touched by your crush alone could be and though Tony remembered a hundred touches from a hundred faceless people, so few mattered as much as this one did. He looked up from his food, a wry twisted smirk on his lips, and turned his annoyingly handsome face towards Bruce.

And there was that look, the one that had been veiled on the helicarrier because Tony didn't understand it, the one that had been greeting Bruce every time he visited Malibu or New York or happened to have Tony 'accidentally' run into him in his suit from time to time across the globe. It was the one Alessa had picked up on right away, the one Bruce had been so shy about and Natasha had ignored at the table while they made plans to bring down the Order: Bruce was the only man in Tony's world that mattered every single second of the day.

He didn't have to remember Silent Hill the way Bruce did (though he wanted to desperately) to have the look on his face right now, half hidden behind entirely too long eyelashes.

"I remember...wearing someone else' pants," Tony said quietly before he ditched the fork in the container he had been eating from and leaned up to kiss Bruce more boldly but certainly not as sweetly as Bruce had kissed him the first time.

That he remembered at least.

Bruce knew that look. Knew the way it made his heart jump a little, made him feel like the only man in the world. His pupils dilated, his breathing slowed down.

He was ready for the kiss. He closed his eyes. His hand tightened on Tony's thigh. He cupped his boyfriend's cheek, stubble rough on his palm, to keep them both steady. The pace was Tony's; Bruce was still too cautious just in case he tried to take too much.

Tony's mouth was warm. Soft. Their stubble scratched together, making the skin around their lips red and crisscrossed with lines. He broke for air, breathing out, "You told me you didn't have to learn how to sew because you had me." Then he started to kiss again.

Tony still had him. Tony would always have him, one way or another.

There was a rumble of laughter against Bruce's mouth, an upturn of a smile, and Tony gladly accepted the kiss again. It was enough confirmation to know that he wouldn't be alone, not physically, not intellectually, not emotionally. Sure, Bruce had presented himself in a package Tony would not normally go for, but that made him so much more delicious to have now.

It helped that he was so impossibly attractive too. Tony wasn't going to discount that. He might not have fit his usual taste but after a lifetime of water, he could use a little coffee to shake things up a bit.

The remains of breakfast were tossed aside because as delicious as Bruce's cooking had been, his mouth was better. His hands-- Wow. How had he lived before without being touched like this?

Pepper had sort of driven him to the romantic side of himself he'd never bothered with before, but he embraced it now even as he ran his fingers through curls and half climbed over Bruce to just get closer to him.

And that was when JARVIS announced their descent. "Sir? When you are finished with your examining Doctor Banner, I would like to inform you that we have arrived."

Because his AI was a horrible troll. He only had himself to blame for that.

Bruce tangled his fingers in Tony's hair. He held it too tightly, like Tony would pull away at a moment's notice and he could somehow stop that from happening. His fear, his desire to keep Tony with him permeated every touch, every caress. His kisses were becoming possessive, all-consuming, trying to pull Tony closer--

And then, of course, JARVIS had to go and ruin it. Goddamn it, JARVIS.

Bruce parted the kisses with a soft noise of frustration, a strand of saliva conjoining them briefly before breaking. His hand slid out of Tony's hair, leaving it messy and sticking in different directions. "Later."

He was getting pretty sick of 'later', but what else could they do? There were things to be dealt with.

Licking his lips, Tony's eyebrows arched a little. 'Later' was a sentiment that just kept creeping up and Tony was finding it just as annoying as Bruce. He pulled himself off of the floor, off of Bruce, visibly half hard and aching. He wished he had enough time for a cold shower. Alas.

The quinjet spun slowly in the air to match the landing pad and took them down in a flash of sand on Tony's private beach. He helped Bruce with Alessa before he paid the artist and sent Tyler on his way. "Not a word," he had warned the young tattooist.

JARVIS would be scanning the internet for the next few months just to be sure that Tyler kept his word.

While Bruce took Alessa towards one of the smaller of Tony's mansions, two stories and only five bedrooms overlooking the ocean, Tony sent the quinjet off again and exhaled.

This could be his last few moments on the Earth. He wasn't exactly afraid...he just wished he'd had more time with Bruce.

For once, Bruce wasn't thinking of all the potential worst case scenarios. He could't imagine losing Alessa or Tony, not after the months of being happy for the first time in a decade.

He wasn't going to allow them to die.

He set up Alessa in a bedroom overlooking the beach, tucking her in and kissing her sleeping head before walking back on the beach, approaching Tony and sliding their hands together.

"You should show me where we're going to be working. I can start setting up safety measures."

Tony squeezed Bruce's hand before taking him for a stroll down the beach. They could have ten minutes before they started, he decided, and though he didn't remember saying he wanted to visit the French Riviera with Banner back in Silent Hill and then again once they hit New York, the crash of the waves and the blue, blue water certainly was relaxing.

"I have blast doors installed standard," he told Bruce, walking just at the tidal line where the sand was wet and easier to stroll along, but where the water wouldn't mess up his sneakers. "They will probably contain Alessa. The Hulk? Not likely for long." He was only being honest. "My bedroom has connection with the lab so I can watch from there." It should make Banner happier to know he's be somewhat safer.

The rest would be up to Bruce. Tony could do any of the additional hardware renovations and installations but Bruce would be the hands on guy for their not so little experiement.

Bruce breathed all the sea salt in the air. He never spent too much time by the coast. The beach was usually reserved for the rich, and he only ever ran in low-income areas. It was easier to disappear there.

He didn't want to disappear here.

"We can add blast shields inside the lab. Something I can hide behind if it looks like things are going wrong." As long as he wasn't fatally wounded, he could keep the Hulk under control. "Please promise me that you won't rush into the lab if something goes wrong."

"If something goes wrong that I can't fix, I won't rush into the lab," he promised, perhaps a little modified and not even remotely what Bruce Banner wanted to hear. Tony, however, wasn't going to budge on that. "I can add additional heat shielding to one of the corners of the room too. If we build a command station there, you'll be able to do most of your work inside."

This was not the sort of conversation normal people hand while walking hand in hand down a beautiful gem of a beach. Luckily, this was Tony's element. He knew it was Bruce's too. It was why when Bruce told him that they had been more than friends, it had clicked so easily.

He just wondered why it had taken so long.

As they looped back to the house, up a sandstone paved walkway between tropical trees, Tony paused to touch Bruce's cheek. "And when we're done, I packed a bathing suit for you. We're going swimming and I'm going to get a tan and Alessa-- She could use a tan too."

"We'll need to cover her in sunscreen. She'd burn very easily." As far as Bruce was concerned, she had dealt with far too much burning.

He knew that Tony would do whatever he thought it took to save him and Alessa. He knew it because he was ready to do the same. Even if he extracted an acceptable promise from Tony, he wouldn't keep it. So instea of raising a fuss, he just tightened his grip on Tony's hand, tracin the creases of his palm with his thumb.

"I thought I lost you once. Please don't make us lose you or good, Tony."

He didn't like verbal using his fear like that. He didn't like leaving himself vulnerable. He was ready to do it or this, though.

Tony was a little flabbergasted at the emotion behind the voice. Bruce's was deeper than his own but so much more quiet and stern. To have it change like that when he looked at him-- Tony's heart could have broken. He offered Bruce a grin in exchange, an attempt to lighten the mood. "I like living too much these days to let a little thing like Extremis attempt to kill me. Besides," he confessed. "They tried that already and I'm just fine."

Just fine and without his armor.

Yeah, that was going to have to change because-- Because this was getting ridiculous. He'd have been perfectly fine being in there with Alessa if he'd been prepared!

They headed inside and while Alessa slept, Tony finished up the blast and heat shielding in between bites of left overs. "I'm going to send J with a grocery order. I haven't been to this island for years."

"We're going to need to go shopping for clothes, too. I'm guessing you don't have clothes that could fit Alessa lying around."

Bruce helped Tony install the shields, checking through all the equipment and running them through preliminary paces just in case any of them had begun to degrade while Tony wasn't paying attention to the island. They all seemed to be in tip-top shape for the most part, but he liked to be sure.

"Maybe we can bring her, if everything goes well and we get something for her to wear while we go out. I think it'd be good for her to be able to pick her own clothes." He'd never done it for himself. He had gotten the clothes that his parents got him, no more and no less. The first time he had been told to choose what he wanted, he hadn't had any idea what to do.

Edited 2014-08-15 22:00 (UTC)

Tony had the deep pockets to spoil the young girl with and taking her shopping actually sounded really amusing. He looked up from his seat on the floor and winked at Banner. "We'll get you something nice too. Something without patches over the elbows?" The teasing and the work felt good, natural, normal. They really needed to work together more, he decided, and was about to say so until he realized that they likely had. Loki had simply stolen the memories from him.

And that...that made him pretty damn sad.

Turning back to the job at hand, he finished up with his weld and pushed the red tinted safety glasses down around his neck.

"I think that should do it." His hip jutted out as he crossed thick arms over his chest.

The corners of Bruce's mouth twitched. "I suppose we don't really have any clothes that would fit me, either." He didn't comment on whether or not Tony had tried getting him nicer clothes before. He didn't mention how Tony tried to spoil him, and Bruce always resisted, since he already felt guilty for allowing Tony to take on the majority of their living expenses.

He wasn't sure how much information Tony wanted to hear about the relationship he forgot. How much would make him sad, and how little would make him deprived?

Bruce didn't think about it. He instead gave the shields experimental pushes, even though he had no doubt that Tony had welded them perfectly. After all, Tony had no problem being careless with his own safety, but there were other people at stake now.

"Maybe we should let her sleep a little longer. It's going to be hard on her, even in the best case scenario."

Bruce was better off keeping it to himself. Every time something new slipped, Tony was faced with the realization that he was missing out on so very much. It wouldn't always be like that, he hoped, but for now, staying partially ignorant was likely the best course of action.

As he watched Banner run his tests, Tony went to go through some of the things he had packed. Swim suits, given. Jeans, fine. Shirts... More his style than Bruce's.

"You know," he said over the intercom once they had decided that letting Alessa sleep for as long as she needed was the best way to go about this, "You'd fit into my clothing." Bruce was more or less his size. "And I have no idea what you have in your bug out bag... I'm going to guess stretch pants and a bong."

Oh that never got old!

"When you're done, come up here. We don't have a lot of food here but there's some dehydrated fruit and I can make some cocktails."

"I don't drink. Bad things happen when I drink." Unlike Tony, Bruce was not a fun drunk. He was an angry, violent drunk, just like his father. He rarely drank before the accident, and afterwards, he put a complete moratorium on any kind of alcohol.

It wasn't a huge loss. He didn't like himself when he drank anyway.

He finished his tests, stuffing his hands in his pockets and chewing the inside of his cheek as he surveyed the lab, resisting the urge to re-check everything all over again. That was just anxiety talking, not actual safety measures. He knew they had done everything they could.

"When was the last time you inspected your fire extinguishers?"

He doubted there was anything wrong with them, but he was worried. The last time he had conducted an experiment on a human subject without proper safety measures, things ended poorly, and he didn't want Alessa to suffer what he suffered every day. She had had more than her fair share of suffering.

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