Work Text:
Somewhere behind the haze Tony heard JARVIS speaking in that crisp, clean accent. “You have been awake now for 42 hours. I would advise you to sleep, Sir." Of course Tony knew this, he hadn’t been able to sleep since the incident and he absentmindedly waved his hand over his shoulder. “Not now JARVIS."
He was certain he was on the cusp of another breakthrough. He was literally days, maybe even mere hours, from finally getting the building up to self sustainability. He just needed to crack the specifications, make a few tiny little tweaks, and he could fire up the Tower entirely off the grid.
JARVIS interjected again, alerting him to a visitor headed up to the Penthouse. “One of the Avengers, Sir." Now this caught his attention. This surprised him. For Tony Stark this was a rare feat. “Let them off here, JARVIS." He ran a hand through his hair and turned just in time to see the rather shabby, deceptively docile figure of the Dr. Bruce Banner press his hand to the door control.
The door slid open and Tony felt himself smile. “Banner!" - it wasn’t his voice though, it was rather scratchy, clearly his throat was tight from not speaking. Bruce looked up at him in that way that he did, his body naturally slouching slightly as if it somehow eased the burden of what he held inside. “Tony," came his more quiet response. “I’m sorry I didn’t call first - I was in the area, I didn’t know where else to go."
Tony waved it off with a dismissive shake of the head. “Like I said, Stark Tower is always open to you." And especially for Bruce Banner. Of all the Avengers he probably felt the most comfortable with Bruce. He did not trust Natasha really, and he knew nothing about Clint other than he had good aim. Rogers did not see things on his level, and Thor seemed to be the type of person that would be good for getting drunk with. Bruce……well, Bruce was truly his sort of man. Smart, aware, a scientist. He was a scholar.
"Why are you here though? I assumed you would fall back off the grid." Tony asked as he walked over to a cabinet to pour himself a drink. He lifted a glass towards Bruce but he declined. Tony shrugged and sipped his scotch. Bruce runs a hand nervously through his curly hair and gives a half grin. “Well, I don’t know where to go now. Ross knows where I’ve been, I expect he’s just waiting to come out of the shadows when I’m alone again." It wasn’t that Tony wasn’t paying attention but he felt his body shudder a little, his head snap a little. Bruce narrowed his eyes and the question didn’t need to be vocalized. “I…." A million lies came to his mind, but for some reason he did not want to lie. Not this time. Not with Bruce. If there was anyone who understood inner demons it was bound to be Bruce. “I can’t…I won’t sleep. Not since New York. Not since the other side." He admitted and he hated how weak his voice sounded. He could almost hear his father’s voice in his head and the admission that his prodigal son didn’t measure up.
Bruce was quiet for a long while and Tony felt like he was getting assessed. There was a moment where they just stood and looked at each other before Bruce spoke. “I understand." He said after a long pause. “Do you want to go upstairs?" Tony hadn’t thought about the other Avenger’s state and it seemed that Banner was equally worn down. It wasn’t like Tony had seen him necessarily looking pristine and upbeat, but, for what Tony had seen of him this was a lower point. “Have a movie or something we can put on? Something to not think about for awhile."
It sounded like a good idea and Tony nodded, leading the way to the Penthouse. Idle small talk was made, exchanges of ideas and concepts that could be applied to the energy plans, it seemed almost natural and both men fell into the routine. Tony refreshed his drink, Bruce declined again, and the two men settled onto a rather plush couch as Tony turned a movie on.
Somehow, probably about an hour later, Tony woke up to the freezing panic of that cold numbness again. His body lifted up into a panic, his muscles all seizing up and he grappled for somewhere to grab. Apparently Bruce’s leg was such a perch for him to pull himself into sitting up. Bruce shot up; probably used to not having real true sleep, or maybe he had never been asleep either - “Tony! You’re here, it’s okay!" Bruce reached out, putting a hand on Tony’s shoulder, his left hand reaching out to grasp the hand clenched so firmly onto Bruce’s thigh.
Tony was not in a state of mind to pay attention to the way that Bruce clenched up his entire body; Bruce pushed down the fright and started his deep breathing. Bruce held his breath (something he could control) and focused for a moment until the world drifted away from the green haze.
Tony was panting, his body slumped forward and for a moment there was silence other than the slight sounds of his body trembling, Bruce murmuring something, and somewhere in the growing quiet as Tony tried to regain composure and control their foreheads met. The glow of the screen behind them, the blue of the water on the screen reflecting on their skin illuminated them. The rest of the apartment was quiet and dark. Bruce moved his right hand and gently, so softly, amazingly unbelievably softly for a man known to destroy cities, put it on Tony’s face. “It’s going to be okay, we’ll fix it." Desperation was not a good feeling and Tony hated it. The only thing that remained for the moment was the feeling of Bruce’s hands and the mantra that he offered. It will be okay, it’s going to be okay. Tony couldn’t believe it, not yet, but at least he wasn’t alone.