sixthiterationlogs | Hello Darkness My Old Friend

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Hello Darkness My Old Friend

WHO: Bruce Banner
WHERE: South Village Fountain
WHEN: 9/17
OPEN TO: Open to all!
WARNINGS: None yet

BUNKER/SOUTH VILLAGE FOUNTAIN

In the tube, Banner was unconscious. Nothing so restful as a simple dream, that would be too kind, instead his mind was restless. It was a waking nightmare, seeing people turn to dust before his eyes, seeing the looks of pain and loss on the few people in the world he still cared about, and the friend he knew best was missing, gone, who knows where. Everything was wrong. And now he was here. His hair was newly short and gray, his figure average and unassuming, and he woke up suddenly to propulsion that he couldn't possibly be ready for.

This wasn't really the first time he woke up somewhere he shouldn't be, in a place he couldn't remember; this was a common situation. It wasn't even the first time he was in the water, struggling to breathe, his limbs wildly flailing. But it was a rare occurrence that this moment of concern didn't follow with the feeling to the tip of his toes of the other presence waiting. Then again, he and the Hulk had issues. Issues not even close to being addressed. It meant he was vulnerable. It meant many things. Banner finally got himself together and swam up, figuring out which way was up, and broke the surface gasping. To where? To here. Where was here?

Exhausted and with a heavy heart, he sat on the edge of the fountain and breathed deeply, running hands through his wet hair. Nothing seemed familiar around there, but hey, it wasn't a planet geared toward trying to kill him or freak him out. So far. Don't jinx it, Banner. He sat there for a long time, he had no idea how long. He was in no hurry to move. The world was too much right then, and whatever this was, it was a few steps above.

The strangest part of everything was the clothing. The extras. Normally he woke up naked. So there was that one small good thing. It took him awhile before he was up and walking, but eventually it happened.

INN

At first he simply walked around. Nothing was familiar. In fact, he was fairly certain it seemed dissimilar from anything he'd known before. Some things were the same, yes, but Banner couldn't see how the Hulk brought him this far. And he was wearing clothes. What the hell was happening now? Was this another trick from Thanos? That made sense. He clearly liked to torture people. When he saw the inn, he paused. He tried to avoid people most of the time. It was too dangerous, he was too dangerous, except now he wasn't at all and that meant people he walked into could in fact be dangerous to him. He tried to reach out to see if the Hulk was still ignoring him.

There was nothing. No touch. No moment of anger or denial. No feeling whatsoever. Nothing. He was the only on home. At first he couldn't figure out what that meant. All these years later, how could it be? All the years trying to get here, and it just happened when he woke up. Stunned and overwhelmed, he could only stumble over to the outside wall of the Inn and lean against it. Not going in, just hovering there, and then he started to crumble down until he was sitting on the ground, staring off into space.

What was he feeling? Relief? Loss? Fear? Confusion? All of it.

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"...Stark?" He stands, "You know Stark?"

Interesting. The man at the forge knows a number of people apparently. It's a good thing he seemed relatively supportive.

"I can take you to his forge. Can you stand or do you need me to carry you?"

Point of fact that he can, "Again, you look like you've been through the ringer."

Bruce felt for a moment like he might pass out from relief. Tony. Alive. Existing. The last time he saw him, he was leaving on a space ship, and they never got to find out what happened to him. It was a shot in the dark to ask. Since he wasn't interested in passing out or tearing up in front of a stranger, he took a deep breath in and out and stood on his own. Great! Legs! He could do this. He leaned on the inn wall.

"Tony's my best friend." His only friend, mostly, although he and Thor got closer recently. And Nat, well. He wasn't going there. Tony had a lot of friends, but they had mad science together, so there was that. Bruce felt somewhat sure he could function long enough to get there, since most of his problem at the moment was mental. "I just came from a fight. It was ... a lot." The end of half of life in the galaxy. "I'm Bruce. Banner."

He offered him a hand, "Let me help you stand and I'll take you to him." His big slimey hand is offered out and he nods, "I'm Alec Holland." He pauses, "Most people call me The Swamp Thing."

"For obvious reasons." He shrugs his great big shoulders and gestures as they head towards the forge, "You need a doctor? You don't appear to be injured."

Bruce wasn't really comfortable with people touching him, even out of kindness, but he felt like refusing would be implying something he didn't mean to Alec, and as usual navigating interaction was exhausting all on its own. He took Alec's hand just long enough to make it clear he didn't mind, but once he was settled on his feet he dropped. "Nice to meet you ... Alec? Or do you prefer Swamp Thing?"

He shook his head. "No, no, I am kind of a doctor, I'm not injured really. It was a brutal fight, and I'm not exactly in fighting form like this." The opposite. He was a middle aged man with no fighting skills, and while in enough shape to effectively run and hide and keep himself alive, that wasn't saying much. The Hulk wouldn't come out to play. "And all of this is a lot." He wanted to get to Tony though. He was alive. He was here. It was okay. "How long have you been here?'

"...A day? Two maybe? My sense of time is..." He shakes his head, "And Alec is fine. Since we're in such close quarters. Or Dr. Holland."

He pauses, interested, "Medical or PHD?"

Bruce was glad about that, because calling him Swamp Thing seemed like a strange choice, but who was he to make those calls for other people? He gave a flickering smile at Alec. "Thanks for walking me over to him. We were separated during the fight in question, it was a shot in the dark, hoping he'd be here." Maybe he figured wishing hard enough would make it happen, and there they were.

"PhDs. I don't have the formal medical degree but I do have a lot of training, education, and first-hand experience helping out in third world countries. But still ... not a medical degree. So it's with a grain of salt." Bruce could get by, but he wouldn't claim that title in the end. Being able to do a little was still better than doing nothing.

"Hey, after the course work they put you through it's got to go somewhere right? I mean with the level of graduate work and field work you have to do...better to get right to the problem."

Approaching the forge, Alec raises his hands. The sunlight is nourishing. Surprisingly so.

He stretches, "What topics did you study?" He paused before shouting, "Stark? Are you here?"

Chances are a number of people in the village heard him.

"It was all great. I remember the work more than any other details in my life during those years, honestly." Education was his strongest suit. He was never happier or more at home than in a lab, making discoveries, being useful. "Oh, uh, nuclear physics, biochemistry, biomedical engineering, too much really."

Bruce shuffled forward when they approached what he assumed was Tony's place, hopeful, wringing his hands. "Tony?" He said tentatively.

The louder the better- he's bent to his work, squinting at a long strip of steel he's shaping with sharp, ringing blows against red hot metal. It's no pulsing bass or wailing guitar but it's a familiar kind of music and rhythm, something he does in time with his heartbeat. A comforting kind of physicality in imposing his will on the world and crafting something that'l make someone's life easier- between that and the roaring of the forge? It'd be hard to hear anyone.

But Alec's odd roar is enough to get his attention- he brings down the hood to bank the heat of the forge and sets the steel bar back on the coals to keep warm, stripping off his gloves and stepping out into the light. Soot and sweat cover his arms, smears against his forehead and neck where he'd been wiping it away. Tugging a rag from his back pocket he squints at the large green blob that is his latest science associate. Getting used to daylight after staring at fire takes a moment. "Yeah, Treebeard?"

Its a younger face than Bruce might have known personally. An upright sort of posture, a lean tone to his shoulders, his arms, fewer creases around his eyes, no grey at his temples or in his goatee. "Oh hey, fresh meat-" His eyes swing to their company, ears still ringing so the soft murmur of Bruce's voice doesn't register until he sees him and-

Barnes said he'd been fine. It's one thing to hear- another to see. "...Bruce?"

"I never looked good with a beard." He shakes it off and gestures, "This gentleman says he knows you."

Watching the two men meet Alec senses a flare of recognition. Feeling pleased, he steps back, "He asked me to bring him to you."

He turns back to Bruce, "This is the only Tony Stark I know. I hope it helps."

The young face was noted, but not necessarily so out of place that it made him hesitate. Maybe if he didn't recognize Bruce, that would have been a bigger clue, but instead Bruce felt like somehow he'd been holding his breath and could let it out now. He was really there. Not on a space ship far away. Not on another planet. The last time they saw each other, Bruce simply let his instincts take over, and they did the same now. "Tony...."

He felt his eyes burn and tried to resist the wave of sadness and relief. It was overwhelming, the past few hours, the days before that, the years before that. So he moved forward quickly and wrapped his arms around his friend, hoping that it was acceptable now like it was before. "You're alive." None of them knew. It was unspoken, but they were all afraid. It did not look good for Tony, but there were more pressing things to worry about.

"Thank you," he said to Alec, because it was polite, and also because he was beyond grateful.

"Remember that friend I mentioned?" The one that became big and green, the one that had so much fear, so much anxiety?

Same guy.

Same guy that fell right against him like he had not three weeks ago to Tony's memory, but only a few days in Bruce's, probably. Hugging him back is as instinctual as it was that first time, hands coming up to hold him tight, head dropping down to Bruce's shoulder. Alive. Here, sure, but back home? He'd survived Thanos. He had no reason to believe any of them would've been spared and in every last variation of his vision-

Hulk was spread out on cold dead stone, impaled by spears. Broken. Bloody.

But Bruce was here, warm and alive as ever, the steady thud of his heartbeat a comfort against Tony's chest. "I got you, buddy."

This is...beautiful. To say the least. Witnessing a wellspring of human emotions like this made him feel good. Like he'd connected with something human again. However briefly.

"It looks like he's calmer with you. Which is good." He doesn't smile well, still, big green and brown roots curve upwards in the best attempt he can manage, "I'll let the two of you get reconnected in peace. Stark, I've got something for you but I'll bring it by tomorrow."

Studying Bruce, trying to picture him as a large big green creature and failing. It's difficult to picture.

He gestures, "Mr. Bruce? Or Bruce? - I don't - if you ever want to talk to me about it I can...well. I'd be happy to lend an ear. Until then."

Feeling positive, indeed, feeling peppy he turns to go. It feels like he was re-planting roots in a world he'd forgotten.

Edited 2018-09-19 03:55 (UTC)

The things he wanted to say bubbled up inside, and he had no idea where to start, so he started instead with Alec. Bruce stayed where he was, the press of Tony's head on his shoulder comforting. They needed this. "It's Bruce, and yes, uh, thank you, maybe next time?" He hadn't intended on explaining his comfort level with big green monsters, but he didn't mind talking about it when it was out there. And apparently Tony had been talking about him. That could be good or bad, he was really hoping for the good, he could use the good. The reminder that the Hulk existed but was now gone brought back those same mixed emotions.

He didn't want to stop, clinging to Tony seemed the only reasonable option. "I thought you were, that you could have been ...." The thing was, Bruce assumed Tony was fine when he came back to himself, when Thor gave him a little context although the Asgardian was as disconnected as he was at that point. He couldn't imagine a world without Tony Stark, but then there was one. His heart ached and his eyes burned and there might be some tears in there. "I wore the Hulkbuster suit." Why that came to mind, he wasn't sure. It was a strange situation, and freeing, to be part of the fight without the Hulk. "I'm sorry I embarrassed you in front of the wizards." Now he was on ramble mode.

"I'm a human security blanket." Tony huffs, one sooty hand coming up to rub Bruce's back. Two years without and one or two chances to cling and hang on for the short time he'd been on earth? Wasn't enough. His shoulders roll forward, slumping into Bruce as much as Bruce is leaning into him. This is-

It's an emotional moment and not one he'd like to have in public, but the street is relatively empty and he'll take it. Holding fast and keeping either of them from tipping over kind of takes priority. "Nearly was."

Not a comfort but, he can be honest about what happened. It went wrong in the worst way, they all survived by some fucking stroke of luck- but that's small potatoes in the face of half the universe being gone. In the kid being gone. "Veronica? Bruce-"

Okay we're in rambling territory. Peeling away to guide him back into the forge- the far end with the sketches on the walls, the designwork, the shade and the water jug- that's the best place to have this talk. "I need to bank the coals real quick. Sit, I'll get you some water."

Bruce huff-laughed into Tony's shoulder, soothed in a way that he was fairly sure could have easily moved him from Hulk to himself in any other situation. The lullaby was useful, but so was this. Feeling real and solid and cared about, for some reason. "You're the best security blanket," he murmured, and right then, it felt that way. Most of the time, Bruce wouldn't care for a public display either, but it'd been too much. Too much loss and fear and uncertainty. He was finding he cared less about the little things, at least right now. Self-conscious Banner would be back, but for now, he was just glad to be there.

"Veronica, yes. He still wouldn't come out, but I had to do something. Their big guy kind of ruined it. I got him though." It was strange, being glad about that, but it was him, not the Hulk. He fought, he gave back. Bruce shuffled after Tony's lead, still staying probably a little too close to him, too emotionally exhausted to hate his own clinginess. But he had to sit and drink water and let Tony finish his project. His shoulders were slumped and he found himself shaking, multiple things crashing on him at once.

"He's gone," Bruce said softly. "I don't feel him anymore. I think it's just me now." And why in all hell was that upsetting him? This used to be all he dreamed about, but he gave up, he knew nothing outside of the Hulk could exist for him. The gap there should and would be a wonderful thing. The Hulk was useful. The Hulk could be counted on when things got rough, although not recently. What was this place, that ripped him in half?

"You fought? You fought and you won." Banner, who never fought himself- who had The Other Guy to handle that shit. Who couldn't remember the actual battle but lived through the aftermath. Who, on more than one occasion, Tony resented for being able to roll through everything that was thrown at them without being hurt. There was trauma, of course there was fucking trauma, but Banner wasn't terrified of fucking space when it used to be a source of joy, something to strive for, something to explore- Banner didn't have fucked up ribs or a shiny new scar in his lower left quadrant with a matching slice on his back. Banner didn't have to step up and untangle the socio-political mess their work and their attempts to save the world left behind.

Aware of the collateral damage? Always.

Having to actually fucking deal with it? Never.

But that as on Tony trying to keep life easy for him. Comfortable. Safe. Not that it kept him close. Not that he blamed Bruce for leaving. He was happy to see Bruce, he was, relief ran thick in his veins but- complicated sentiment tangled with rational thought and detached frustration, swinging widely between leaning back into how it was before Bruce ever left and establishing a new, firmer boundary. He'd learned once not to talk so much about his issues- he'd since learned not to trust so openly and easily. Cracking his chest open for casual perusal was more painful than worthwhile. "That's insane."

Time spent stirring the coals gave him a moment to collect himself. Get his game face on because- he'd had his brief moments of dealing (or rather violently repressing his emotions to not have to deal). Bruce? Was having his well deserved implosion. Tony poured out a mug of water, wandering back, crouching in front of Bruce because he could (his knees didn't pop his spine didn't pop his shoulders didn't ache and he could breathe.), offering it up. "He's always been you, buddy."

Bigger, greener, angrier- maybe more honest. But this? This was worrying. He made a rough attempt at wiping his hands clean before resting them on Bruce's shoulders, eyes dark, focus centered on Bruce.

"I know, I was surprised I won too. I got really lucky." Bruce didn't think it was due to any real skill on his part. Tenaciousness, maybe, but once he realized the Hulk wasn't going to save him, he had to stir up the energy to do it instead. Which was a far way from where he was before. There was a time he would've liked the excuse to give up. Dying used to be an impossible goal, not a reality, but it turned out he wanted to live enough to fight back. He wasn't sure until this moment how true that was. Wow. A day of mindbreaking changes. He really hated change.

Bruce had mental trauma in spades, but nothing physical. Even now, with aches and mild pain, he was weary of many things, but not injured. He was indestructible once, but he'd wanted to be anything but that. After killing so many people as the Hulk, he constantly felt like he deserved to feel it, and yet nothing could be done on that front. He couldn't mimic injuries, so they were internal. The truth was, Bruce didn't think the Hulk was a monster, because he was a creature of Bruce's own making. Bruce was the monster. Nothing could change that.

Dark eyes watched Tony work, having no intention of looking away from his friend, because eyes locked there meant he was not going to disappear. Alive, alive, alive. There had been no time to really talk about what happened. No time to understand the shadows in his friend's eyes, the emotional pain behind his words when he talked about the Avengers breaking up, and no real reckoning for the elephant in the room. Bruce knew that Tony went to great lengths to give him a life. Maybe he didn't know all of the lengths, but he did go above and beyond what most people would do for a human disaster. For the first time since the Hulk happened, Bruce had a place he belonged, and he was seduced by that promise of happiness. Flight was his response to many things, including happiness.

He owed apologies. He owed explanations. Maybe when he had the answers, he'd try that.

Instead he focused and shook his head when Tony dropped close. "No, he's ... we've fractured more since I've been gone." The hands were grounding. Bruce took in a deep breath and let it out, one hand lifting to grip one of Tony's, holding it tight. "He was in control since I left after Ultron, Tony. Years he had his own life, developed his own wants and needs, made ... friends." That beautiful, wild, engaging woman Bruce spent some time with but felt like he'd known for years. So yes, he and the Hulk were still bound at their core, but the Hulk became the dominant force. "That's why he could refuse to come out. He makes his own decisions now." Which was a terrifying concept in so many ways. The Hulk shouldn't and couldn't be trusted with that in a civilized society. Bruce looked at Tony and placed his free hand on his shoulder. An anchor. "He's gone."

"...He was driving for years?" Where would he have possibly landed where he felt that was the safest option for them? Hulk was angry, sure, he was destructive in that anger but at his core it always seemed like Hulk's number one priority was the protection of himself and the human he was stuck with. Keeping Banner alive, keeping himself far from anything resembling the military- Tony squeezed Bruce's shoulders, mind rattling through option after option. Something about what happened with Wanda? Something about the situation with Ultron.

Something about where they landed. Wherever it was, Hulk didn't feel safe to let go of control and simply...hadn't.

That long without Bruce as a counterweight would probably cause the tenuous distinction between them to shatter- and this place played with anything wild and fantastic except for the shit it saw fit to hand out like candy (his current status included) so tearing them apart to prevent a Hulk out made sense but- Tony swallowed back a pang of grief. Sure the big guy was a little unpredictable. Sure Johannesburg had been a low point for them. But Hulk had been as much his friend as Bruce and knowing he was gone? Complicated emotions. On the one hand- Bruce was finally free.

On the other?

Bruce was now vulnerable in ways Tony couldn't protect him. He wasn't certain how to cope with that considering how much insanity lived in the woods beyond the village. "Well."

Shit.

"That's probably for the best, because this place? Stressful as hell, Gummibear." When in doubt? Humor. Every shred he could scrape together. "Have you chosen a place to stay yet? I've got an extra room in my house. It's not quite candyland but-"

It was his. It was safe.

"We didn't really have time to talk about it. About anything." End of the world. They didn't even get through the explanation of what was going wrong before earth was attacked. "We were enslaved on a planet and forced to fight in a gladiator ring to survive." For years. Bruce knew that Hulk was the only reason he was alive, that Hulk used those years to protect them both, and maybe that was part of why this loss felt like a loss as well as a relief. He used to hate the entity that ruined his life, even if that entity was himself, but for once they were starting to sync. Even when Bruce was desperate to keep his mind together, to not change into the Hulk again, it was fear of loss of self. Not fear of the Hulk. "Thor found us there, we went to Asgard, it was destroyed, the refuges from Asgard were then attacked by Thanos." And there. That was the summary. Murder, disaster, loss, and misery.

"It is for the best. Maybe. I don't know. If it's stressful here, it means I can't help. We don't have Veronica here." Bruce was useless when it came to stressful situations, that's why the Hulk balanced him out. If he wasn't able to be part of the team, what exactly did he bring to the table? He shook his head before he dropped too low into that spiral, wanting to focus on the here and now. Tony. Alive.

The look on his face at the offer was a mix of too many emotions to name. He could close his eyes and remember exactly what it was like, to live in the tower, to have that sense of community. It wasn't the same here, but the offer was the same, the intention was the same. "Yes, please, I don't ... you're all I've got." Well that was too honest and not intentional, blurted the way it was, but it was true so he couldn't take it back. After everything between them, and this was still Tony's response to him. He didn't do anything to deserve a person like that.

"I'm sorry." What useless words. Bruce took Tony's hand and held it, not tight, just held it. "Call that a blanket sorry for everything, but also because I'm just stupidly rambling about gladiators and I should have asked what happened to you."

Well that sounded like Bruce's worst fears realized. Out of control, people hurt or killed and he'd never had a chance to stop it, lost and far from anything either of them knew- On the one hand he remained fiercely glad that the quinjet hadn't failed- that they survived whatever happened. On the other he hated that it worked too well. Took Bruce and Hulk somewhere they probably never should've been in the first place.

A world ended before the universe ended and fuck, could Asgard ever catch a break? Could earth? Could anyone?

It dipped too deep back into everything he was trying desperately not to think about. What he could've done different, how he could've gone back to the beginning and kept them together- too many options, too many paths and not a single one of them with any kind of guide as to which was the best option-

Tony's heartbeat filled his ears for a moment, eyes falling shut as he tried to breathe. It was fine. They were fine. Bruce was here, they were safe, whatever happened back home was beyond his control. He couldn't change it. He couldn't fix it. Without any kind of platitude or promise to offer he settled for leaning up and tugging Bruce in, wrapping his arms around Bruce's shoulders again. This was easy. This was grounding. "Well, good news is someone grows a fuck ton of weed- so we should be able to manage that."

Like that was any kind of solution.

"...you're all I've got too, you know."

Pepper's line. Something she'd said at the beginning and he wasn't crying, he wasn't, his eyes were hot from all the soot, they itched, that was all. He kept his breath steady as best he could but it wasn't enough to smooth over the hitch, the way his hands tightened in Bruce's scrubs. "Not your fault. None of that was your fault."

Bruce thought it was unlikely that level of trauma was something he could ever get past, but hey, he had mountains of trauma he hadn't come close to getting passed. So he would just keep surviving and trying to keep sane. Without the constant fear of hurting people here, that would help. He couldn't help, he had no strength, but he also couldn't turn on them. He told Nat that he was a threat to everyone, to her included, but now he was a threat to no one. The body count would stay at its current high horrific number.

He just huff-laughed at the weed comment and shook his head. "I might be able to smoke it for the first time, that's what I'll become, our resident pothead." Bruce was such a clean kid, who never made trouble, who never smoked or drank, he studied and he avoided. He did try a huge mix of medications and herbs and biological serums when fighting off the Hulk, and all of it much heavier than something as simple as marijuana. But that seemed ridiculous.

You're all I've got too, you know. It wasn't something to make him feel better, it shouldn't, it should make him sad, that he was all Tony Stark had now. He was a very poor substitute for the people Tony had before, for Pepper, for Rhodey. He would have to do his best to help fill those holes, to take the responsibility of being All Tony Had seriously. They were functional and intelligent. Bruce knew it was selfish, to be so grateful to mean that much to someone else, but he was not a healthy individual, and he wanted to matter.

Bruce held onto him and laughed again, but it was more just a gasp in and out of breath, sniffing. "No, no, it is. I messed up. I thought ---" He just shook his head. "I thought I was helping, it's so ridiculous now, looking back at it." Looking back on it as if it was years ago, when it was so close a time to his real memory. "After Johannesburg and Ultron, I knew I was bad for you, for the team." Not thought, knew. He had equal responsibility for the murder bot, he made the Avengers look terrible, dangerous. Cap and Tony, they could be forgiven by the public, they could salvage it, but making excuses for him, for the Hulk? "I didn't want to drag you down with me. I thought if I was just gone, it would be easier for the team to move on." The world could see him as the bad element.

There were tears now, and he just gave up on trying not to accept them. "I should have stayed. For you, if no other reason. And if I had, maybe things would've been different, maybe whatever happened to the Avengers wouldn't have." And he wouldn't be on a slave planet and the Hulk wouldn't have had his life for two years. If Banner for once made a good choice instead of running.

"Bruce- a lot of things weren't good for me with 'the team'. You weren't ever one of them." Time and distance and a lot of scotch, dealing and coping and trying to live better, to be better. It'd hurt, losing everyone. Watching them walk away in the middle of a mess they all had a hand in leaving it for Tony to try and mend. He won't pretend it didn't. Bridges for the most part might be stretched or strained or nonexistent but only one had a torch put to it-

Only one was something he had no intention of mending.

"I retired. You left, I tapped out. Ultron was...Sokovia was a sign." A warning, a message. Something none of them had the chance to pay attention to. A reminder that no matter what he did, no matter what he built or how many lives he saved people would look at him and see The Merchant of Death. That was flag one.

Rogers bringing Wanda in without missing a beat, Thor throttling him, how easy it was for all of them to look and judge and blame- he'd fucked up. He would own that.

But not a one of them tried to understand the why. None of them had ever tried to connect with him other than Bruce, and he'd been useful. A heavy hitter, a constant supply of funding, legal navigation, PR assistance, tech. He gave. He gave and he gave, he tried and he tried and he didn't want anything in return but the opportunity to do something right. To help people. To trust a group he'd come to be fond of and-

That trust wasn't returned. Shocker.

He knew better, no reason why it should be so upsetting. "I tapped out. There wasn't much of anything for me left there and I stupidly thought Rogers had a handle on everything."

But that had been the first crack- or at least the first visible one. They'd never really seen eye to eye for all he thought they understood one another. Didn't matter. Tony let his head fall forward, leaning in and curled into Bruce, holding him as much as he was being held up. "It's a long story, if you want to catch up. I'll give you the cliffnotes. Don't want you passing out on me again."

The worst part about Ultron was that they both should have known better. They were two of the most brilliant minds in the world, and all they could do was look at this puzzle they wanted to solve and not on the down sides it could lead to. No, they couldn't know for certain how badly it would all go, but Bruce in particular knew better. It was exactly what he did in the first place to ruin his life, and at least when he did that, the number of people destroyed by it was lower. The second time? Everyone paid. Tony wanted to do the right thing, he had vision and purpose, but it should have been Bruce's responsibility to pause.

The team wasn't really a team to him. The Hulk was on the Avengers, Banner helped in the lab and lived there. They were some outline sketches of a family to him, not that he really put the words into forming that mindset. Yes, Tony was who he was closest to, but he got along well with everyone enough to feel less like looking over his shoulder. He knew what it meant to Tony though. It was everything to him. He poured his heart and soul into the Avengers, he made them his mission, his blood and his sweat.

So something very, very wrong had to happen to change that. It was in every line of Tony's body language right then, telling the story of how they were destroyed. It was a very subtle movement, when Bruce went from leaning on Tony's support, to pulling Tony in a little more, being the support instead. "Tell me. I won't pass out. What happened, Tony?" The Avengers were tarnished by Ultron, but they still stopped him. Bruce couldn't imagine how it went from that to Tony refusing to speak to Steve, and the others being hunted as criminals.

"...Politics." That's the long and short of it. "Politics, emotional compromise, and a lie that lasted for three years longer than it should've. No one walked away clean."

But almost everyone walked away. It was easier to talk about it like this, tucked up close, not having to watch Bruce's face as he outlined every way he'd fucked up. "...After New York- there was a lot of collateral damage. There always is whenever we tangle with something big that wants to murder humanity. Then the nuke happened and- people got antsy. After the Helicarriers, Roxxon, after Sokovia? It got worse. People were afraid of us. Of our disregarding sovereign borders and flying in to make a mess, sweeping back out when we deemed the day saved."

Maybe he was a little bitter. A lot bitter.

"The Sokovia Accords were a document that would mandate accountability that came around at the worst fucking time. I'd tapped out, Rogers was trying to train up the new team and lock down the remaining Hydra or former Hydra cells still running around stirring up shit, Peggy was on the decline and he still hadn't found Barnes. Pepper and I were taking a break. Ultron, Sokovia, being with the Avengers again after I promised I'd quit? She couldn't take it. None of us were in a good place when this slammed down the pipeline. I was the one that handled politics so...the Secretary of Defense came to me with an ultimatum after an incident in Lagos where Maximoff attempted to contain an explosion and wasn't able to manage it as well as people thought she should've. Civilians died. Wakandan Citizens died. It was a mes. Because of that we had to sign or forcibly be retired and I got slammed in the face with a huge mallet of 'my baby died because you fucked up' about A woman's son that had a bright future and died in the fallout of Sokovia where he was assisting relief efforts and building affordable housing. So. I was off my game. Rogers was shook, Maximoff was shook, the rest of the team was trying to handle shit and Rhodey was trying to keep the brass off the initiative's back demanding some kind of trial for Maximoff's assumed carelessness. While we're arguing should we sign, shouldn't we sign, Aunt Peg-"

Tony's voice went thick, scraped raw over remembered grief. He took a deep breath, peeling back enough to massage his face with a hand. "Peggy Carter passed away. Rogers leaves for the funeral, I try to scramble to get us more time or to get everyone on board so we're at least steering the thing, get it amended, workable, it's not something we can do if we're not in the damn car- and there's an explosion where they're being signed, killing the King of Wakanda who spearheaded the Accords. James Barnes is assumed the culprit and that sets Rogers off trying to find him. It's a clusterfuck from the start and it only gets worse."

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ENTER TL; DR