Bruce isn't too interested in the wardrobe, and with Tony going through drawers, he pushes the cylinder back in to have the clothing rack retreat into the wall before he wanders off to pick at a bowl of something that might be fruit, mostly curious about texture and scent rather than looking for a snack.

"I, uh..." The question was pretty much inevitable. He stops to break something that looks like a kiwi-sized grape open and sniff it, wrinkling his nose at the odor. It gives him a few seconds to do an internal inventory before answering. "I feel pretty good, but I think that I probably shouldn't feel that way about having a substantial portion of my emotional range suppressed."

From a distance he can see where he could be angry and even afraid. The anger just isn't there, and the fear of a hurting, abused child is pushed under, asleep with Hulk where it can't fertilize more rage. What fear he has left seems to be too tightly keyed in to his survival instinct to be put to sleep with the rest.

"Other than that, I've probably got some bruises in interesting places."