The man who wrapped a hand around Wanda's throat and dared her to piss him off isn't as mild-mannered as he wants people to think. He's the man who wouldn't hurt a fly, but only because he chooses not to. If there's any doubt of that, they could go talk to that disoriented green woman on Sakaar.
That man doesn't flinch from Tony's rebuke. "I don't know. I've never had billions at my fingertips to build whatever I want, including a secure facility for myself with a better place for DUM-E than above the garage." Low blow going for the kids.
"I've also never had the ability to be anywhere in the world within hours, making living in the middle of nowhere something other than exile." He's never doing the whole stuck in the middle of nowhere thing again. It isn't good for him. That way lies the dark pit of the soul where a bullet looks like a good idea.
“I need to be close. Cap’s gone. Do you know how tiring it is to run a group I didn’t even want to be apart of that now contains my ex, my crippled before-I-met-you best friend and a bunch of other people that hate my guts because I got their friends jailed and who are now all living in exile in Wakanda, probably, because Cap doesn’t understand that laws are there for a reason?”
Raising his voice? Hell yes he’s raising his voice. DUM-E’s just fine in the attic, Banner, jeez! That’s probably where he’s doing the least damage in the name of being helpful. And yes, Tony gets the irony of that. This right here is like living in the attic where he’s doing his best not to cause problems for the whole world.
“Most of those billions are tied up in trying to keep the people that work for my company employed and to pay the families of our victims. Sure, we save lives, we save whole cities, but our antics kill a lot of people too. Or worse, cause them to have a lifetime of hospital bills. Wanna guess who funds all of that? Me. Right here. This guy. I don’t have the luxury of going anywhere. I could barely fit in all of the time I spent looking for you or trying really hard not to mess up the life of a stubborn teenager who can’t help but get himself in danger all the time. Which, yeah I know, that’s my fault for bringing him to Germany…. So there you have it!” He makes some grand, circular gesture with a frown. “I just ruin whatever I touch. Make sure you keep your distance. I can probably manage to mess you up too.”
Bruce's eyebrows go up at the part about laws being there for a reason and Steve not getting that. There's no small irony to hearing that part of the rant coming from Tony Stark.
The rest comes at him like a dam's finally broke. He's gotten some of the overflow since he sent Tony that angry text... when? this morning? yesterday? Recently. He's gotten overflow, but now that Tony's pouring out his feelings, Bruce can finally start putting together a fuller picture of what the hell is going on with his friend.
The kid? He'll have to wait until later for details.
Tony gets his unwavering attention, but other than his raised eyebrows, he gives nothing away until Tony's self-deprecatory conclusion, which is met with a quiet huff of dark amusement. "You're not doing well with just AIs for company. I think I'll stick around for a while."
Ultron isn't water under the bridge, and Bruce has some fresh wounds about that, some of which have Tony's signature on them, but if the universe won't let him give up and die, Tony doesn't get to either.
Ready to do battle, to be angry and to let his pride ruin a friendship, Tony Stark is surprised by Bruce’s responses to his mounting upset.
Big brown eyes widen before he takes a small step back. Maybe he’s had too much to drink (ha!) because he’s pretty sure that Bruce just said… Tony exhales slowly. “Yeah? You want to stay in a dinosaur with memories of how messed up my childhood was? Don’t you have enough skeletons in your own closet? And I swear to-- Just go upstairs and get changed because if I see you tug at your crotch again…”
There’s a half sheepish smile on Tony’s face, mixing with relief.
Yeah, of course Tony wanted a fight, even if he didn't want a fight. It's what he's used to; it's what most people who aren't afraid of him do. Call Bruce's choice less avoiding fight and more interpersonal aikido.
At the mention of his crotch, he hugs himself to keep his hands in control, ducking his head apologetically and smiling a little at the apparent success of his tactics.
"Yeah, but I know all my skeletons by name, and I'm going to need you to tell me where I'm going upstairs unless you want me walking into every room and digging through drawers and boxes."
Tony explains about where Bruce can find his things and decides to stay in the kitchen to drink and so it’s up to FRIDAY to give Bruce clues on where to go. Tony’s retrofitted the mansion with speakers at least, allowing the AI to find him easily wherever he is and to perform whatever he might need her to along the way.
Tony’s spent a lot of time accumulating old possessions that Bruce has up and left over his years in exile. He’d hit up all of the known places in Earth Bruce might have gone to and the people whose lives he’s touched had been willing to part with the things Bruce left behind when he bugged out.
There’s quite the collection for Bruce to pick from. Including a fine array of stretchy pants that Tony has left the occasional note of hilarity pinned to.
When Bruce had settled, he’ll find Tony half dragging DUM-E across the left wing. “You’re. Not. Too. Big to.. work with DUM-E, you’ll fit. I measured!”
Bruce pokes around a little until he gets to a suite filled with boxes and stray items that mostly leave him with an ugly pit in his stomach as each one calls him back to Canada or Brazil or Iraq or India or Virginia. This isn't his suite; it's the Bruce Banner Archive. He's not sure whether to laugh or cry, hug Tony or punch him.
He closes every box he opens, sometimes only after he puts something lying loose away inside. He'll eventually look at everything, but in his own time, and only a little at time.
By the time he comes back downstairs, letting FRIDAY guide him to find Tony, he's dressed in a pair of his own non-ball-binding pants and a soft old button-down and cardigan he vaguely remembers from his student teaching days. Better still, he has a pair of glasses tucked in his pocket.
He stops to watch Tony struggling with DUM-E with unconcealed amusement before coming to help pick up some of the weight on the other side. "Thanks for hanging on to my stuff, but if I find that you've got a picture of me in your room with a heart drawn around it, we're going to have to have a talk."
“FRIDAY, uh,” Tony says as he guides a track over a high lip between a doorway and the hall, heel catching briefly on the carpet, “do me a favor and get rid of my I HEART BB folder on my digital photo frame?”
“All right Boss. Set it as backup on the server,” FRIDAY deadpans.
“Good girl. Okay, idiot, stop rocking backward—. Ha!” Success! DUM-E might not make it downstairs without Tony converting the stairs into a ramp again but it would do for now. He can get to his lab and get around most of the upper wing that Tony’s more or less taken over.
"I knew it." He squeezes past DUM-E once he's through the door and looks around. It's weird, but he misses the tower. It had started to feel like home to a guy who hadn't really had one in a long time. The Avengers compound sounds terrible, even if Tony says there's a lab for him there. Maybe it's just the word compound; it evokes some very specific, not very pleasant associations.
More likely it's knowing that he'll be the odd man out again, and he still doesn't know who's left there.
In the spirit of curiosity and always knowing where to find the nearest exit, he turns a slow circle to take in the space they've just manhandled DUM-E into. In his distraction, he's most of the way through a 360 when he has to duck DUM-E's swinging arm or get knocked on his ass.
"Got a project in mind for him or just doing a little redecorating?"
“Both and neither,” Tony says, not trying to be cryptic so much as to express his lack of direction. He looks at Banner as if he might suddenly laugh and reveal himself to be Loki, or as if he is just on the verge of disappearing into the dusk, a figment of his lonely imagination. If the latter happens, he’ll be setting fire to another three blocks just to get another two days of his company. Even if it’s just in his mind.
The staring probably isn’t something Bruce would be disturbed by. Tony isn’t an eye contact sort of guy but he’s always been intense and more than just a little protective of Bruce. There’s something more to it now though. Bruce stands for a break to his solitude. Tony has become a pet project for the other scientist and he finds that he really likes it.
“I’ve been working on upgrades to Underoo’s suit. Something to channel his web splooge through without all the options I—. You have no idea who I’m talking about. FRIDAY, bring up Parker’s greatest hits?”
Tony has never been good keeping secret identities.
Honestly, there's not much that Tony could do in terms of body language that could disturb Bruce. He's used to the intensity with which Tony studies anything and anyone that catches his eye until something else pulls him away like a hummingbird whose feeder had been filled with Jolt instead of sugar water.
"Underoos?" He's nonplussed because there's zero context there but it doesn't sound good. "Splooge?"
And now there's nothing for it but to watch this skinny figure brachiating (it's the closest verb he can think of) around New York on-- "What is that fiber he's using?"
Now he sees where "Underoos" comes from, and splooge is starting to make sense, too. "Who is this guy?"
“He’s the kid we would have if we did it right,” Tony says immediately. “He’s fifteen, a genius like me and a huge nerd like you. He developed that fluid himself. In his sophomore science lab at school.”
There’s pride in the way that Tony talks about the teenager, hands in his pockets and relaxed for the first time in awhile aside from his restless sleep.
“It’s probably one of the strongest materials I’ve come across. Stronger than nano-carbon tubes. He was running around in this homemade costume so I made him a suit. Working in cloth? Not as easy as metal. You’re going to love him. And he’s going to love you. Just wear protection. Hockey mask. Gloves. He’s high energy.”
“Fifteen?” Bruce turns away from the projection of Peter practically crucified between two halves of a ferry to stare incredulously at Tony. “This kid’s going to die before eighteen.”
The only reason he doesn’t launch accusatory questions at Tony about how could you support a child doing this is the part about running around in a homemade costume. He understands being resigned to the reality that teens will have sex, so teach them safer sex, but is making him a... a what? a spider suit? Is making him a spider suit anything but a terrible idea? There’s no such thing as safer superheroing.
“Where are his parents?” He has a guess before Tony can even answer. It circles back to his earlier thoughts about the Avengers and their relationships with their parents.
“Dead.” And no one is surprised at that. “I know it’s bad but I’m not trying to get him killed. The opposite really. He cracked my last set of armor and went on a joyride with it. So I have to keep this new set with less bells and whistles— He’s going to do it no matter what. I can’t watch him all the time. He’s agreed to stick to Queens at least. I have him on a monitor. Whenever he leaves the borough I can find him. He’s a good kid, Bruce. You’re going to really like him.”
He’s already said that but Tony can’t keep from saying it again. He can’t help himself. He just really wants it to be true.
Peter isn’t his family. Banner isn’t his family. The Avengers keep proving that they don’t really need him as part of their family. But that doesn’t mean that Tony can’t try to be a good dad to everyone. He just messes up. And keeps it on the down low. And no one ever understands what he’s doing. Then again, he doesn’t either.
Correcting his dad’s mistakes is just high on the agenda.
He isn't proud that he guessed correctly. Another brilliant kid on a track that doesn't lead anywhere happy. Although just hearing that Peter cracked something of Tony's is worth an impressed raise of his eyebrows and a low whistle. If anyone else had said it, he'd think they were lying, but Tony doesn't brag about made up genius kids cracking anything of his. His ego wouldn't allow it.
Just on that, Tony's probably right that Bruce will like him. Who better to appreciate that kind of ballsiness than the two of them?
"How'd he end up enhanced? Or are you going to tell me he's another undercover alien?"
“Nope. You guys are radioactive buddies,” Tony smirks. Peter never told him what happened but Tony is still smarter than a fifteen year old, even one who can crack his tech (it won’t happen again now that he knows what Peter can do). He has his ways of finding out things when he wants to.
Like how radioactive spiders can now dish out super powers. Don’t worry. He’s not telling. He doesn’t want the general public to get ideas and start hanging out at Chernobyl hoping to get stung by a bee.
Unfortunately for Tony or for Bruce or for both of them, Bruce's mind immediately goes one place. "How did he get hold of the serum?"
He's actively and visibly worried as he searches his memory and comes up with an ugly possibility. "Does he have something to do with Sterns?" The so-called Mr. Blue, who'd synthesized an unthinkable amount of Bruce's blood. He'd been in New York, too.
“Woah.” No need to make Bruce panic two minutes after he’s promised to stay and be Tony’s live in play date for awhile. “Right stadium, wrong game. It’s got nothing to do with the serum at all and everything to do with a lot of shoddy cleanup post Chitauri. Don’t worry your head over it. I’m literally talking a radioactive bug. Just less gamma ray worthy.”
Tony’s hand lightly touches Bruce’s shoulder for just a minute.
“I don’t know what happened to it but that was... wow. Over a year ago. No new cases. No Geiger readings. The spider is very likely dead. We just have one whiz kid who can hang on the ceiling out of it.”
Bruce has a lot of nightmares, but someone getting hold of his blood and making another Abomination, or worse, another Hulk is definitely on heavy rotation. What a world they live in that Tony's explanation actually makes him relax from that sudden flare of worry.
"That's going to help me sleep at night." But he gives Tony a tight smile, as much for the effort he's making as for the actual message.
"I'm going to have to meet this whiz kid." He can run the numbers on how many enhanced humans they might expect to see in years to come, but it can wait for the moment. The numbers will be there when he's had a real rest. It'll give him something to other than rebooting projects that may or may not have been waiting for him for two years. "It takes a lot to impress you and I need to know if I have competition."
“I have a strict 18 and over policy. I’m not getting burned by that one again.” It’s best not to ask, Bruce, especially because it deals with seventeen year old twins who happened to sneak into the Tower and legal made sure to put the kibosh on the whole thing.
And no one can replace Bruce. That should be obvious from the lengths Tony went to in order to find him. If that museum of stuff in the museum of his own childhood means anything at all, it’s thst Tony cares.
And likely cares too much and in very unhealthy ways.
Neither of them are ever going to be poster children for good mental health.
"The fact that there's an again in there says everything I never wanted to know and more." As though the Tony Stark myth and reality didn't encompass that and more. If Bruce had a problem with it, they'd both have known years ago.
After a few seconds of looking around for something to do with himself other than trying to stay out of DUM-E's way, he shuffles a little because otherwise they might just moon at each other until one of them falls asleep. "So show me the parts of this place I need to know and let me know if there's anywhere you'd rather keep off the fifty cent tour."
Tony likes mooning. It’s so rare he actually feels the need to do it. And Bruce has been gone so long thst he might as well get two years worth of devoted admiration in while he can. Tony slips his hands into his pockets and tilts his head curiously to the left.
“I’ll let you explore later. What you need to know is that there’s nothing useful here. I’ve got stuff kind of centralized in this part of the mansion. The new spider suit is next door. My armor is in the garage.”
And that’s about it.
Minus the fact that he sleeps downstairs on the couch in the family room, off of the formal entry way. There’s too much to unpack about that one. Bruce won’t understand.
"No good toys?" Bruce shakes his head, and only part of his apparent disappointment is feigned. "I thought you'd have something new to show off."
But the truth is, yeah, he's running a little low on steam. He's not as young as he was a week ago by his personal timeline.
"Then show me a place with a good couch where I can put my feet up while you tell me anything else I need to know." Because Bruce has such a good track record with jet lag and Tony unburdening himself. Why not revisit that?
It’s for the best that Bruce tap out while he unloads. It makes Tony more willing to talk and to say things he doesn’t really want anyone knowing. He knows it’s ridiculous. He’s well aware of the fact that he should be talking to someone with an actual degree in this and that could be the only way he actually finds closure.
But he’s too stubborn and too set in his ways. And besides. Banner is back.
“A real, home cooked meal, or are you gonna crack some eggs into a pan and call it quits?” It doesn’t matter what the answer is. They head downstairs and Tony gestures to a couch with some blankets piled on it. His bed. Already slept in.
There’s too many beds in this house and he picks this place?
“There a lot I want to tell you.” In other words, get comfortable. Because Tony keeps most things bottled up until Banner comes around to pop the cork.
Tony should be talking to an actual therapist, but it's not too surprising that he isn't. He's stubborn, he's ridiculous, and he doesn't like adding people to the small circle of friends with whom he's willing to be vulnerable.
And these days that circle is probably a literal straight line with two points: Bruce and Tony.
He eyes the couch, looks from it to Tony, then chooses not to say the obvious.
"A real meal as long as there's enough real food in the kitchen to make it happen." Wait a minute. If the kitchen's stocked with Tony in mind, that isn't going to do. "Hang on. FRIDAY, put in a grocery order, please."
He rattles off a list of ingredients for a dish that his landlady in Calcutta taught him. Indian comfort food is as much for himself as for Tony.
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Date: 2017-12-18 06:19 pm (UTC)That man doesn't flinch from Tony's rebuke. "I don't know. I've never had billions at my fingertips to build whatever I want, including a secure facility for myself with a better place for DUM-E than above the garage." Low blow going for the kids.
"I've also never had the ability to be anywhere in the world within hours, making living in the middle of nowhere something other than exile." He's never doing the whole stuck in the middle of nowhere thing again. It isn't good for him. That way lies the dark pit of the soul where a bullet looks like a good idea.
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Date: 2017-12-18 06:49 pm (UTC)Raising his voice? Hell yes he’s raising his voice. DUM-E’s just fine in the attic, Banner, jeez! That’s probably where he’s doing the least damage in the name of being helpful. And yes, Tony gets the irony of that. This right here is like living in the attic where he’s doing his best not to cause problems for the whole world.
“Most of those billions are tied up in trying to keep the people that work for my company employed and to pay the families of our victims. Sure, we save lives, we save whole cities, but our antics kill a lot of people too. Or worse, cause them to have a lifetime of hospital bills. Wanna guess who funds all of that? Me. Right here. This guy. I don’t have the luxury of going anywhere. I could barely fit in all of the time I spent looking for you or trying really hard not to mess up the life of a stubborn teenager who can’t help but get himself in danger all the time. Which, yeah I know, that’s my fault for bringing him to Germany…. So there you have it!” He makes some grand, circular gesture with a frown. “I just ruin whatever I touch. Make sure you keep your distance. I can probably manage to mess you up too.”
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Date: 2017-12-18 07:17 pm (UTC)The rest comes at him like a dam's finally broke. He's gotten some of the overflow since he sent Tony that angry text... when? this morning? yesterday? Recently. He's gotten overflow, but now that Tony's pouring out his feelings, Bruce can finally start putting together a fuller picture of what the hell is going on with his friend.
The kid? He'll have to wait until later for details.
Tony gets his unwavering attention, but other than his raised eyebrows, he gives nothing away until Tony's self-deprecatory conclusion, which is met with a quiet huff of dark amusement. "You're not doing well with just AIs for company. I think I'll stick around for a while."
Ultron isn't water under the bridge, and Bruce has some fresh wounds about that, some of which have Tony's signature on them, but if the universe won't let him give up and die, Tony doesn't get to either.
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Date: 2017-12-18 07:58 pm (UTC)Ready to do battle, to be angry and to let his pride ruin a friendship, Tony Stark is surprised by Bruce’s responses to his mounting upset.
Big brown eyes widen before he takes a small step back. Maybe he’s had too much to drink (ha!) because he’s pretty sure that Bruce just said… Tony exhales slowly. “Yeah? You want to stay in a dinosaur with memories of how messed up my childhood was? Don’t you have enough skeletons in your own closet? And I swear to-- Just go upstairs and get changed because if I see you tug at your crotch again…”
There’s a half sheepish smile on Tony’s face, mixing with relief.
“Hurry up or I’m going to hug you. Again.”
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Date: 2017-12-18 08:15 pm (UTC)At the mention of his crotch, he hugs himself to keep his hands in control, ducking his head apologetically and smiling a little at the apparent success of his tactics.
"Yeah, but I know all my skeletons by name, and I'm going to need you to tell me where I'm going upstairs unless you want me walking into every room and digging through drawers and boxes."
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Date: 2017-12-18 08:21 pm (UTC)Tony explains about where Bruce can find his things and decides to stay in the kitchen to drink and so it’s up to FRIDAY to give Bruce clues on where to go. Tony’s retrofitted the mansion with speakers at least, allowing the AI to find him easily wherever he is and to perform whatever he might need her to along the way.
Tony’s spent a lot of time accumulating old possessions that Bruce has up and left over his years in exile. He’d hit up all of the known places in Earth Bruce might have gone to and the people whose lives he’s touched had been willing to part with the things Bruce left behind when he bugged out.
There’s quite the collection for Bruce to pick from. Including a fine array of stretchy pants that Tony has left the occasional note of hilarity pinned to.
When Bruce had settled, he’ll find Tony half dragging DUM-E across the left wing. “You’re. Not. Too. Big to.. work with DUM-E, you’ll fit. I measured!”
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Date: 2017-12-18 08:45 pm (UTC)He closes every box he opens, sometimes only after he puts something lying loose away inside. He'll eventually look at everything, but in his own time, and only a little at time.
By the time he comes back downstairs, letting FRIDAY guide him to find Tony, he's dressed in a pair of his own non-ball-binding pants and a soft old button-down and cardigan he vaguely remembers from his student teaching days. Better still, he has a pair of glasses tucked in his pocket.
He stops to watch Tony struggling with DUM-E with unconcealed amusement before coming to help pick up some of the weight on the other side. "Thanks for hanging on to my stuff, but if I find that you've got a picture of me in your room with a heart drawn around it, we're going to have to have a talk."
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Date: 2017-12-18 10:45 pm (UTC)“FRIDAY, uh,” Tony says as he guides a track over a high lip between a doorway and the hall, heel catching briefly on the carpet, “do me a favor and get rid of my I HEART BB folder on my digital photo frame?”
“All right Boss. Set it as backup on the server,” FRIDAY deadpans.
“Good girl. Okay, idiot, stop rocking backward—. Ha!” Success! DUM-E might not make it downstairs without Tony converting the stairs into a ramp again but it would do for now. He can get to his lab and get around most of the upper wing that Tony’s more or less taken over.
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Date: 2017-12-18 11:37 pm (UTC)More likely it's knowing that he'll be the odd man out again, and he still doesn't know who's left there.
In the spirit of curiosity and always knowing where to find the nearest exit, he turns a slow circle to take in the space they've just manhandled DUM-E into. In his distraction, he's most of the way through a 360 when he has to duck DUM-E's swinging arm or get knocked on his ass.
"Got a project in mind for him or just doing a little redecorating?"
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Date: 2017-12-19 02:45 am (UTC)The staring probably isn’t something Bruce would be disturbed by. Tony isn’t an eye contact sort of guy but he’s always been intense and more than just a little protective of Bruce. There’s something more to it now though. Bruce stands for a break to his solitude. Tony has become a pet project for the other scientist and he finds that he really likes it.
“I’ve been working on upgrades to Underoo’s suit. Something to channel his web splooge through without all the options I—. You have no idea who I’m talking about. FRIDAY, bring up Parker’s greatest hits?”
Tony has never been good keeping secret identities.
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Date: 2017-12-19 03:21 am (UTC)"Underoos?" He's nonplussed because there's zero context there but it doesn't sound good. "Splooge?"
And now there's nothing for it but to watch this skinny figure brachiating (it's the closest verb he can think of) around New York on-- "What is that fiber he's using?"
Now he sees where "Underoos" comes from, and splooge is starting to make sense, too. "Who is this guy?"
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Date: 2017-12-19 12:34 pm (UTC)There’s pride in the way that Tony talks about the teenager, hands in his pockets and relaxed for the first time in awhile aside from his restless sleep.
“It’s probably one of the strongest materials I’ve come across. Stronger than nano-carbon tubes. He was running around in this homemade costume so I made him a suit. Working in cloth? Not as easy as metal. You’re going to love him. And he’s going to love you. Just wear protection. Hockey mask. Gloves. He’s high energy.”
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Date: 2017-12-19 03:54 pm (UTC)The only reason he doesn’t launch accusatory questions at Tony about how could you support a child doing this is the part about running around in a homemade costume. He understands being resigned to the reality that teens will have sex, so teach them safer sex, but is making him a... a what? a spider suit? Is making him a spider suit anything but a terrible idea? There’s no such thing as safer superheroing.
“Where are his parents?” He has a guess before Tony can even answer. It circles back to his earlier thoughts about the Avengers and their relationships with their parents.
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Date: 2017-12-19 10:44 pm (UTC)He’s already said that but Tony can’t keep from saying it again. He can’t help himself. He just really wants it to be true.
Peter isn’t his family. Banner isn’t his family. The Avengers keep proving that they don’t really need him as part of their family. But that doesn’t mean that Tony can’t try to be a good dad to everyone. He just messes up. And keeps it on the down low. And no one ever understands what he’s doing. Then again, he doesn’t either.
Correcting his dad’s mistakes is just high on the agenda.
“I’m keeping him from killing himself by prom.”
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Date: 2017-12-19 11:04 pm (UTC)Just on that, Tony's probably right that Bruce will like him. Who better to appreciate that kind of ballsiness than the two of them?
"How'd he end up enhanced? Or are you going to tell me he's another undercover alien?"
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Date: 2017-12-20 12:34 am (UTC)“Nope. You guys are radioactive buddies,” Tony smirks. Peter never told him what happened but Tony is still smarter than a fifteen year old, even one who can crack his tech (it won’t happen again now that he knows what Peter can do). He has his ways of finding out things when he wants to.
Like how radioactive spiders can now dish out super powers. Don’t worry. He’s not telling. He doesn’t want the general public to get ideas and start hanging out at Chernobyl hoping to get stung by a bee.
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Date: 2017-12-20 12:40 am (UTC)He's actively and visibly worried as he searches his memory and comes up with an ugly possibility. "Does he have something to do with Sterns?" The so-called Mr. Blue, who'd synthesized an unthinkable amount of Bruce's blood. He'd been in New York, too.
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Date: 2017-12-20 01:20 am (UTC)Tony’s hand lightly touches Bruce’s shoulder for just a minute.
“I don’t know what happened to it but that was... wow. Over a year ago. No new cases. No Geiger readings. The spider is very likely dead. We just have one whiz kid who can hang on the ceiling out of it.”
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Date: 2017-12-20 01:37 am (UTC)"That's going to help me sleep at night." But he gives Tony a tight smile, as much for the effort he's making as for the actual message.
"I'm going to have to meet this whiz kid." He can run the numbers on how many enhanced humans they might expect to see in years to come, but it can wait for the moment. The numbers will be there when he's had a real rest. It'll give him something to other than rebooting projects that may or may not have been waiting for him for two years. "It takes a lot to impress you and I need to know if I have competition."
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Date: 2017-12-20 01:46 am (UTC)And no one can replace Bruce. That should be obvious from the lengths Tony went to in order to find him. If that museum of stuff in the museum of his own childhood means anything at all, it’s thst Tony cares.
And likely cares too much and in very unhealthy ways.
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Date: 2017-12-20 02:11 am (UTC)"The fact that there's an again in there says everything I never wanted to know and more." As though the Tony Stark myth and reality didn't encompass that and more. If Bruce had a problem with it, they'd both have known years ago.
After a few seconds of looking around for something to do with himself other than trying to stay out of DUM-E's way, he shuffles a little because otherwise they might just moon at each other until one of them falls asleep. "So show me the parts of this place I need to know and let me know if there's anywhere you'd rather keep off the fifty cent tour."
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Date: 2017-12-20 02:21 am (UTC)“I’ll let you explore later. What you need to know is that there’s nothing useful here. I’ve got stuff kind of centralized in this part of the mansion. The new spider suit is next door. My armor is in the garage.”
And that’s about it.
Minus the fact that he sleeps downstairs on the couch in the family room, off of the formal entry way. There’s too much to unpack about that one. Bruce won’t understand.
No one will.
“Are you crapping out on me already?”
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Date: 2017-12-20 02:34 am (UTC)But the truth is, yeah, he's running a little low on steam. He's not as young as he was a week ago by his personal timeline.
"Then show me a place with a good couch where I can put my feet up while you tell me anything else I need to know." Because Bruce has such a good track record with jet lag and Tony unburdening himself. Why not revisit that?
"Do it and I'll cook later?"
no subject
Date: 2017-12-20 02:46 am (UTC)But he’s too stubborn and too set in his ways. And besides. Banner is back.
“A real, home cooked meal, or are you gonna crack some eggs into a pan and call it quits?” It doesn’t matter what the answer is. They head downstairs and Tony gestures to a couch with some blankets piled on it. His bed. Already slept in.
There’s too many beds in this house and he picks this place?
“There a lot I want to tell you.” In other words, get comfortable. Because Tony keeps most things bottled up until Banner comes around to pop the cork.
no subject
Date: 2017-12-20 03:09 am (UTC)And these days that circle is probably a literal straight line with two points: Bruce and Tony.
He eyes the couch, looks from it to Tony, then chooses not to say the obvious.
"A real meal as long as there's enough real food in the kitchen to make it happen." Wait a minute. If the kitchen's stocked with Tony in mind, that isn't going to do. "Hang on. FRIDAY, put in a grocery order, please."
He rattles off a list of ingredients for a dish that his landlady in Calcutta taught him. Indian comfort food is as much for himself as for Tony.
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