notsoangry (
notsoangry) wrote in
sixthiterationlogs2018-09-17 10:57 pm
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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.
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.
no subject
It didn't matter. They broke. Tony picked up the pieces like he always did. Cleaned up their mess like he always did. Tried to double down and make having a smaller team work. And it did until...
Until.
Tony sagged against the bench, sagged against Bruce. It was over and done with, he got past it. He worked, he rebuilt his life, rebuilt himself again because that's what he did. What didn't kill him only gave him more to work with to build up his walls higher. He tried not to make the same mistake more than once. So. He wouldn't do it here. "Bruce-"
No one says shit like this to him- or if they did he couldn't really absorb it. Too many years of telling himself different but. He reached up, patted Bruce's hand. "...He saved me. Barnes. When I woke up I was in a bad way. Thanos impaled me, through and through. Nearly killed me. Then when I wake up here that wound reopens and Barnes? Patched me up, got me to a doctor. We've spoken. I've forgiven him. He's...actually not that bad."
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He could die now. Like anyone else. His mortality hadn't been much of a question for him for a long while, and he'd been young before that so he hadn't thought it over. Bruce knew he wanted to live, and he chose not to die, but he could now. He was a different kind of liability. Fantastic. Now wasn't the time.
Bruce nodded, his arm still around Tony. "I'm not surprised to hear that. He was a victim of Hydra. Nothing he did was his choice. You reacted emotionally, but with distance, you can see that and be willing to give him a real shot. You give people a lot of shots." He was someone who got those chances too from Tony, so he appreciated it, respected it. "I read a lot about that time when we were tasked with the Project Rebirth reboot, most everyone just cared about the science, but you know me, I like to be thorough and know everything. News reels, papers, that sort of thing. People spoke well of him." But he was secondary of course to Steve himself, who was the focal point. Captain America's best friend and sidekick.
"In hindsight, it's good I wasn't there, it would've all been a lot worse if I was, but I'm sorry you had to take so much on by yourself."
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But those parting words? A little damning. If that is all she ever saw or thought when she looked at him, if that was the only thing that she understood from the time they lived and fought and worked together? He didn't feel a need to let her in again. Giving everyone except Bruce a chance to slink in close had been a mistake. They didn't have much in common other than save the world and maybe he'd been a little desperate to be a part of something good, something worthwhile and lasting.
Didn't matter. It wasn't enough. Nothing was going to be enough.
"Probably would've ended with me telling Ross to go fuck himself, political fallout or no." He huffed, scrubbing at his face. "Yeah, well. That's what I do, isn't it? Pick up after everyone, make reparations, smooth things over. It's not like I already have two full time jobs or anything. The split was- messy but probably a long time coming. You had it right at the beginning. We were a time bomb."
TW for suicidal reference
"That's not where it would have ended, and political fallout isn't the worst thing that would happen." He could see a lot of scenarios, and all of them led to greater disasters. No one could understand the levels that Ross would go down to like the man he hated. Bruce could see his vision, and that was what frightened him. Outside of generalized fear and hate toward someone who wanted to torture him. There was no point to trying to guess what Ross had in store for him. If the Hulk was still not coming out if/when he got back, he'd end it before Ross could get his hands on him. It was that simple.
He shrugged. "Of course we were, Tony. We're a group of troubled people with super powers and complicated pasts all attempting to find redemption through violence. You can't smash everyone together like action figures. Fixing the world wouldn't fix our own problems." Bruce said it matter of factly, and it wasn't meant darkly either, or pessimistically. They were human, that's all. "But we did put up one hell of a fight before we lost. For a short time, only the mission mattered again." The interpersonal drama was gone. Now only if it could stay gone.
no subject
If they'd all been there, if the'd all needed him? He would've stuck it out. As it was, they didn't, he stepped back, didn't do enough (as usual) and...
They were where they were.
"It was supposed to be my legacy. Something I built that would do good. Outlast me. That's the real bitch of it- Rogers'll be around to see whatever will be coming down past this fight or the next one, see if it ever grows back. I won't." It'd been getting harder and harder to bounce back, current wristband induced mojo notwithstanding. They could've been the framework for something great. Instead? A mess. A broken mess he had to rebuild alone, which- not surprising. Not really. "We were supposed to save the world. And...we didn't."
They failed in the most spectacular way possible. "...I had it in my hand, Bruce. We had a plan, me and the kid- we almost had the gauntlet off of him."
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"I know you don't want to hear this, but what Steve did for Barnes? I would do for you. Do I think Steve should have trusted you? Yeah, I do. If he told you everything when he found out, it would've given you time to cope and you would have helped him." Bruce had no doubts about that. If anything, given all the facts, understanding what was going on, might have given him more incentive. And it would have built stronger trust between the two of them. "But it's the person he loves above all others on the line. Not everyone's strong enough to make good decisions when blinded by that kind of loyalty, or that kind of fear. I'm not saying you should or could forgive him, because he did the wrong thing, and he hurt you. Maybe you can understand why though. We all do stupid things for the people we love." He made Ultron. Exhibit 1.
He knew it wasn't what Tony wanted to hear, probably, and when they first met, he would've been afraid to talk back to him. He was always afraid of the loss of something he cared about, so he played it safe at first. Now? They'd gone through hell. It seemed pointless to avoid real conversations. "We had some almosts too. Wanda killed Vision, and he turned back time to take it right out of his head like it was nothing. Thor put an axe through his chest, but not through his head, so he could still use the stones and win. This wasn't your fault, it isn't solely on your shoulders, we all failed. I don't want you thinking that you're the only one responsible."
no subject
Bruce didn't know how many of his issues stemmed around those three words. Hearing them, not hearing them, trying to find the right way to say them without saying them. The rest, comparatively, was easy to hear. He'd rationalized why Rogers did what he did during the accords mess. That wasn't the issue. That hadn't ever been the issue. It was the lie. Living with him, knowing him, and choosing not to trust him with something he had every right to know. Letting that get ahead of what might've been right not just for him and Barnes and the Avengers- but every other enhanced individual that'd fall under the purview of the accords.
But asking for any kind of long distance thinking from Rogers had always been a little foolhardy. How could a man look forward at what was coming when he spent his whole life staring behind?
"...I'd ask what took so long for Wanda to come around to that choice because Vision would've offered himself up as soon as he knew what the stakes were." Rationally, logically, it was the only call to make. Wanda not wanting to- that fit. She'd lost her entire family, her security, everything. Vis was all she had left. Having to pull the trigger herself? Some kind of impossible. But she would if pressed. "But I have a feeling I won't much like the answer."
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"He did." That was the obvious answer. "I was there. It was his first instinct after I updated everyone on the situation." That was more or less Bruce's job when he came back down to earth. He was the only one who knew what was coming, to the best of his ability. "I think many of us would have wanted to do the same." Bruce would, if he could, without question. "Wanda was the only one with the power to do it, and she couldn't. Again, we do stupid things for the people we love. I wouldn't mind doing it to myself, but if I was asked to kill Betty with my own hands? Or you?" Or Nat. "It would be much harder." He probably would still do it, but it was hard enough he understood.
He shrugged. "I came up with an idea to try and remove the stone from his head. I figured there may be enough Vision separated from the stone, considering how he'd advanced himself, and he had his other parts to count on." He knew intellectually they should have pushed, but it seemed pointless, so Bruce looked for other options. "I think we all believed we might still have enough time. We went to Wakanda, the king there has a genius sister, and she started to work on removing it. But then the bad guys arrived." He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "Vision asked again, and ... she still wouldn't." It was the wrong choice, but he understood all the same.
no subject
One life verses half the universe. Half of all sentient life, a number too large to get around no matter how he tried to run the math. Half of all life- Peter, Happy, May. The world he fought so hard to save. That he tried so hard t protect. He'd do it. Perhaps it made him the heartless bastard people assumed him to be. What was one more life on his hands? Needs of the many outweighing his need to have someone, anyone, that loved him. That cared. That mattered. He'd had to cut his own heart out before.
"Strange gave up the stone to spare me." He muttered, eyes dropping closed. "It was- we fought. Gave you as much time as we could. He threw a moon at me."
Which was wild and he still had nightmares about space, again, just in a brand new flavor of awful. Fun times. "Shuri? She's brilliant. Helped with the bleeding edge armor. I probably could've cracked nanotech in...five years, if I'm being very generous, but she's something else- fuck I hope she's alright. We might actually be able to manage to fix this if she's still alive."
Young. So fucking young and she'd already lost so much-
Tony knew how that was to some extent. Knew how it could drive a mind to distraction, to working every possible angle.
no subject
"That's ... interesting. He didn't strike me as someone who would do that for a stranger." They only met for a moment, but Strange was very clear on where he stood with the stone and his mission for it. Though he shouldn't have fought in the first place, he should've gone off to wherever the wizards had been hiding all this time. It was done all the same. He seemed like he had his head on too straight and logical for something sentimental. "I think we were winning the fight. The one with Thanos' army. Thor came out of no where and just started wrecking everything in sight." Bruce smiled. "You haven't seen him in awhile, but he's stronger now than I can put into words. He took the Hulk on and said he won." Bruce had some doubts about that.
"Shuri may have thrown what I think the kids call shade at us. Implied we didn't make Vision the right way." Clearly Bruce didn't mind, there was appreciation in his tone. Brilliant minds always appreciated one another. "You and me were ahead of our time at her age, but I don't know, I got a handful of minutes with her and already could tell she'd flown ahead."
no subject
We're in the endgame now. So calm. So certain. More than Tony ever felt he could be.
"Pointbreak? You said he was...I'm glad to know he's alive." Differences they might've had, but. It worked out, however it was. They saw things in different flavors of futurism, one from long experience, one from agonized knowledge of what had to be coming down the line. "...We didn't. We were pressed for time, even with Jarvis, and we didn't even get to finish the way we'd planned. It's a miracle Vision turned out as well as he did."
Because Wanda decided all he was capable of was destruction. Because Rogers trusted her so damn easily after how long she'd spent playing with their minds.
How could he ever have thought Rogers trusted him after that? He'd been shaken, a little. Resolute. Grieving Jarvis, grieving Bruce. "It's...a relief. Knowing she's around. That Peter will be when we fix this. New crop of teen geniuses."
It wasn't all on them, not anymore.
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Bruce smiled and nodded about Thor, fonder now than ever before. They bonded over their shared experience. "I thought for sure he was dead, I don't know how he survived that, but he's really a god. He found us in the gladiator ring and that's how we got out." They went to Asgard and lost there too. Us, he still used the term, despite the Hulk being gone. "I don't think I appreciated how strong he was before, and what a great guy he is at heart. We didn't have a lot of time to bond before." And Bruce was intimidated by the man, so giant and the opposite of him.
Bruce wasn't so certain fixing anything was possible. But he wasn't going to sweep in with his pessimism right then. "Yeah, they're probably going to do it bigger and better, when they have more experience. Our version of the Avengers might be over, but that doesn't mean the concept and intention of it is." They were a time bomb, because of who was put within the team. A team directed properly, and thought out more? Maybe they had a better chance. "I just hope by then the accords is overturned or changed. That was on us, it doesn't have to be forever."
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Not happening.
"The Accords or something like them were inevitable. I've been working on them for the past two years, getting them into something manageable. Or- trying. It'd be easier if Rogers and the rest stuck it out but-" He shrugged. Fixing shit on his own after everyone else moved on? Kind of his deal. They were almost about where he'd meant for them to be at the start but negotiations kind of fell apart along with the rest of the avengers ages ago. "The public have a right to be concerned, we need protection from lawsuits and guidelines like any specialty group that functions the way we did, the way the next round will. My pockets aren't endless, I can't keep covering everything."
Eventually? He'd go bankrupt.
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"If we go back, and he's still alive, I'll have to go back into hiding. Just on earth this time, with all of you aware of where I am. Maybe a secret lab, I don't know." It was a compromise, the only one he was capable of promising, if he was forced back into their world. It was the safest course of action. The Hulk wasn't cooperating when he needed him, and that meant he wouldn't cooperate if he chose to kill Ross instead of back down. "I know you said you'd burn things down for me, but that's not really what I want. If we want to be safe and get through this the clearest way, without distractions, I can't exist in a country where Ross is Secretary of State. It'd hurt everyone." If he went after Bruce, and the Avengers protected him, that would be a problem. It was okay. He wasn't in a hurry to show his face anywhere, he never was.
"The way his mind works, it's more reason than ever to have Hulks at their command, for the next threat. And if we thought several super assassins were a bad idea ...." One Hulk could wreck a city. Several Hulks could destroy what was left of the world. Bruce was tired just thinking about it. He was trying to remind himself that fear here, now, wasn't rational. There was nothing to fear, outside of everything, but Hulk-related things were not a part of it. He felt it all the same. The fear, the weight at the pit of his stomach. If Bruce could push it all away, he would, and he'd try from now on. "I understand rationally what you're saying, why you worked with him, I'm not going to make a thing out of it. But I'm not going to pretend it doesn't hurt either." To think that his closest friends worked with the man who would cheerfully plow through them to get to him? It wasn't a logical reaction, only pure emotion.
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The odds weren't great. He knew that. But he'd try, he didn't have any other choice but to give it his bet shot.
"The upshot is this gives me the biggest fucking 'told you so' to throw at him if he's still around." That something was coming. That they needed to be able to handle their own shit if they were going to get past it- to get off his back and let him work, let him look forward enough to plan for something that there was no planning for. "The thing here, is-"
The big thing, the thing he was getting tired of discussing but then he'd never had to discuss it- anyone that took issue with Ross was on the other side of the damn planet for the past two years. "I was working with the UN. I was not, nor have I ever, worked with Ross. He was a part of the equation I had to try to work around."
Which was infuckingpossible with how politics worked and the overall bullshit of him being the member of the UN with the most experience with enhanced, specialized teams despite the fact that the entirety of the experience was in antagonizing and attempting to vivisect the same. Scrubbing his face he peeled away, heading back to the coals. He had a list to work through and daylight was burning. "I didn't have a choice. It was deal with him or walk and leave Rogers to handle him and that was only going to end badly- and it ended badly anyway. Not sure why I'm surprised by that anymore."
no subject
"They're probably going to get sick of hiding our people and fighting our wars for us, but it's not like we're swimming in options." It was T'Challa's choice, their choice, but still a burden too, to be the battle ground for the end of everything. "But you're right, if I'm safe anywhere, it'll be there." He was positive they wouldn't give him over to the United States government, and he got the feeling Ross wouldn't be given permission to push the nation. It was a relief to think of an option that didn't include hiding at the tip of the world in a hut. Which he'd done and could do again, but still. Better. "Rhodey tricked me." He smiled at the memory, it came to him at once. "He told me I should bow to T'Challa because he's a king, and it was exactly as awkward as you'd think." Funny though, he could admit to that easily.
"He took our people to the Raft. You know what he can do to people without due process, far away from others? You know what he could do to Wanda?" Bruce's eyes were haunted, because he didn't need to wonder. He knew exactly what awaited him on the other side of that particular situation. "You think it was a coincidence that instead of taking them to a real jail, he took them there?" Right, the excuse was because they had someone super powered, like that was fine the rest of them were there too. He just shook his head. "Wanda has the power of an Infinity Stone inside of her, she destroyed one with one hand and kept Thanos with his gauntlet away from them by herself. He would cut her into parts, take the blood right out of her body, do whatever it took to get that in his hands. An army of Hulks could be replaced by an army of her, right there in that Raft."
Bruce took in a deep breath and let it out, putting the palm of his hands into his eyes to rub them and then letting his hands drop. "I'm not trying to be a dick, Tony, you just don't know him like I do. You can't control the UN or what they'd be willing to do, or who they'd give the authority to. I know you did the best you could do in this situation. I'm not angry. It's terrible from top to bottom. And you had to deal with it, the fall out, again. And I'm sorry." But it still hurt, it still frustrated him, and he was grateful to Cap for getting them out of the Raft, for keeping them out of Ross' hands. Some things were just more important.
no subject
His hand curled around the edges of his workbench, shoulders tense, head hanging low. "I know Ross. I know how he thinks and what he wants. I know he wants more weapons. I know he doesn't give a fuck what it takes to get them, I know he doesn't look at people like you or Wanda as human just as much as I know half the reason I got the reactor taken out was so he wouldn't find an excuse to try and pull it from me the next time I pissed him off, or ask for the specs for the miniaturized reactors again. I know he wanted both of you because I spent every damn week fielding requests, demands, and suits for your blood, for her arrest because you don't get to drop a city on people without getting labeled a war criminal. Maybe I should've been more open as to what the consequences of breaking the law would be but I assumed that, maybe, they would try to not. But don't sit there and tell me 'you don't know Ross' when I dealt with him more than fucking anyone trying to keep the both of you, all of you, safe."
Because that's what he did. And he did it until he couldn't because there wasn't a single argument he could make on their behalf to keep them safe, not a single petition he could make to get them transferred anywhere because there wasn't anywhere that could hold them thanks to Wanda collapsing several floors of the damn compound. Did it matter? Did any of it matter? Tony's shoulders sagged, suddenly, and he turned back to stare at the list. Small things. Concrete things he could build and fix without any of the bullshit expectations or assumptions. "More than half my life I spent handling shit in the realm of public opinion, the court of law, and the bureaucratic red tape to handle SI's projects and contracts. And not one of you trusts me to be able to handle this shit. Kind of expected it from the wonder twins and even Rogers, but you?"
Tony shook his head turning to stare back at Bruce on the bench. "That hurts, Banner. I thought you knew me better than that."
no subject
He sat, hands together, shoulders low. "I saw the broadcast when you came back, before you became Iron Man, you think just because I was off hiding somewhere that I didn't know what the rest of the world was doing? I watched you, and I think that's why when we met, I was open to your friendship. I admired you. You were someone who was able to change, who was willing to put the work in. And I'm saying this as if its past tense, but it's not. I feel all those things now. When you looked at me, despite everything I was, and told me I was worth saving, I believed you. That trust, that's not something I give easily, but I knew, in my gut." He touched it, as if he could feel it now, pulling him in one direction, instead of roiling in anxiety. "I knew you were the real deal."
Bruce glanced around the forge, taking in the details, and he wasn't angry, he was talking in an even tone, like they weren't discussing something unbearably serious. "You can't know Ross, specifically him, like I do, because you haven't been his prey. You kept us from him, I know that, and you've done all of this, and I'm grateful. But you haven't seen the look in his eye when he knows he's going to tear your life to pieces. The way he smiled when you were in pain, because he enjoyed it." It hurt and it brought a terror in him like no other. "I loved him too once, you know. I wanted him to be my father. I desperately wanted him to be proud of me. It was so stupid, honestly, it was never going to happen. He hated me from the second he saw me, but he needed me."
It was the most he'd spoken about Ross, not in years, ever. Their particular relationship and the twists and turns within it, that he kept to himself, because it was raw. The sad confession about how he loved him once. It was all embarrassing, when he thought about it. Pathetic. "You can't control everything, you can't handle everything. No one can. You can try your hardest, and you have, and it still could be out of your hands. I don't know every detail of your life, of your heart, and you can't know mine, but we're still us. Don't act like I'm one of them, I would go to hell and back again for you, I wouldn't hesitate. But if I can't speak my mind to the only person I have, then I don't know what to do."
no subject
In such a familiar way, a familiar flavor of betrayal that stuck to the back of his teeth and coated his throat with bitter bile, Tony couldn't help but sink back against the workbench and laugh. It was the same hysterical crackle of sound when Ultron happened, after the shock faded and all he had was a quiet certainty he'd broken everything he'd ever tried to built. That he was a virus and all he touched turned to ruin. Not a good look for him. But this? This was louder, longer, hitched in his chest like sobs until he muffled it behind his palm, blinking past frustrated tears that he refused to allow to fall.
It was worse when that kind of hate came from someone you loved.
And it was terrible that Tony couldn't help but feel a sick sort of envy that Ross was even that emotionally involved in the mess that was his loathing for Banner.
Obie? Felt nothing. Apathy of the worst sort. He wasn't even a monster to slay- he'd been a thing. A tool.
"Don't-" He scrubbed at his eyes. "Don't think I don't know what that feels like."
And it didn't matter that his chest was hale and whole, that his heart still beat and he could breathe, that ringing tone in his ears lingered on bad days, the cold ache of the reactor being pulled free jolted him awake- His hand dragged down from his face to his chest, pressing over his scarless chest. "I don't think it was in my file. Or. That I told anyone that wasn't involved. Obie didn't even hate me, Bruce, but he used me. Because I kept pumping out weapons he wanted and when we quit? He decided to take what I had left that he found valuable and walk."
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He knew who Obie was right away. Obadiah Stane. Almost as famous a name. He knew he was Howard's partner, that he was around after the Starks died, that he would be a support system for Tony after that. He didn't know the depth of what happened there, no, but it was similar enough to his situation that Tony shared in that specific type of pain. Bruce got down on his knees so he was not hovering and instead in front of Tony, who was having a reaction to those particular memories. Psychic or otherwise.
"Hey, it's okay." He was soft again, gentle, apologetic. "Neither of them are here, and we don't need to bring them with us." That was baggage, carried everywhere, but Bruce did know that his obsession with Ross was an unhealthy one. In this environment, at least. If he and Tony wanted to have this fight back in their world, if Ross was alive and it was necessary, they wouldn't. He smiled faintly, still not touching Tony, just staying close, respecting his space. "Even our trauma matches, how weird is that?" They were a matched pair. "You deserve a lot better than you ever got from him. You know that, right?"
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Tony would, could, forgive far too much, a mile long list of wrongs against his person back then. But wrong someone he cared for? That wasn't something he could stand by and abide. Threaten them? Gloves were off. A trembling hand slid up to curl in Bruce's shirt, Tony trying, quietly, to push back the quiet horror. Greedy Business was one thing but-
Taking what he'd built to protect himself, to make things right, and perverting it? Pulling the reactor right out of his chest and walking away without a glimmer of loathing or so much as batting a lash? He'd meant nothing.
"Is it fucked up to think that at least Ross cared enough to hate you?" It was, he knew it was, but that was just how his brain worked. If he could reach in and rewire it he would.
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Saying it and believing it were two different things. People could tell him until the end of time that the Hulk wasn't his fault, or his actions weren't his fault, and he wouldn't hear it. Some things just had to be personal acceptance or not. It wouldn't stop Bruce from trying to soothe his friend. He rested his head next to Tony's and put an arm around his middle, just existing in his space.
He huffed, not quite a laugh, but a sound of some amusement. "Well, I was sleeping with his daughter. That made it a little more personal." Otherwise, he doubted it would be hate. Well, maybe. "I think all of this is fucked up. We've gone through so many fucked up things." It really was never ending. He figured it would be bad up until the moment he died. "He loathed me from the minute we met, because he thought I was weak, pathetic." Bruce heard those words thrown at him so frequently that at this point it felt like it echoed in his own mind uninvited.
"I used to hope the Hulk would kill him," he confessed quietly. Guiltily. "It was awful, and I knew Betty would never forgive me, but I was so tired of running. I just wanted to come home." Bruce tried so hard to keep the Hulk from killing, but in the darkest part of him, he wanted Ross gone.
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He helped shape Tony, guided him into fulfilling his father's legacy- while dangling booze and blow and women and men in front of him, keeping him distracted like a fucking child so he could double deal. Every betrayal, every knife that found his back? Only ever drove that first one in deeper. The only person that cut so damn deep it nearly met that one? Was Rogers. But he put all that away- this was...it was and wasn't about him. It was about them. Figuring out how to live with each other all over again in a place with none of the safety nets they took for granted back in New York.
Slumping further into Bruce, his other arm came around to hold on tight. It stung, that Bruce thought he wanted to work with Ross. That he'd let anything happen to the rest of the team- and it fucked Bruce up more than a little that Tony was put in a position where there were no other options. The long and short of it was: Shit sucked. What else was new? "Bruce, buddy- you are not the only person that kind of hoped Ross would end up dead."
His hand slid up to smooth through Bruce's hair, close cropped and he kind of missed the mess of curls, a little. A lot. "I get it. I do. It's alright, Bruce."
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He couldn't remember how his hair got cut, but he knew where they were, hair was cut off, since that happened to Thor too. He must have been very out of it when it happened, and then the Hulk took over for good. His hair hadn't been that short in many years, it still felt odd. There were only two people in Bruce's life that held him this way, who made him feel this safe, and he was just grateful that Betty hadn't been the only one in his life who could manage it. Otherwise he'd be alone and harrowed until his unknown amount of long years ended.
"What are we going to do now?" Because everything back at home, in the current time, it didn't matter. The Accords, Ross, Thanos, that was somewhere else they couldn't actually deal with yet. Normally that would be a good thing, but it was out of one fire and into another fire, rather than a frying pan existing in the middle. He leaned back on his knees so he could look at Tony's face, but just dropped his hands to Tony's knees, keeping contact. "Where are we?"
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One he swallowed back as best he could. The human capacity for violence was one Tony knew well, it made for good business. That he could detach himself from that sentiment so neatly for so long was disturbing enough. He tried to remember why he shouldn't step back emotionally that far ever again. Bruce clinging to him? Reason enough.
"Well. I have a list on the wall to start." Keeping busy to keep sane. "Trying to build some creature comforts and figure out how to build a defensive wall since there are things in the woods that eat people. Right now we're in my as of yet unnamed business, I could use your help with that, in the South Village. There's a nearly identical one up north. The actual planet is...fuck if I know?"
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