"I'm not-" But he is. He knows he is. The anxiety attacks, the wound tight tension that never really goes away, the scraped raw grief at having failed so fantastically? He'd thought Sibera would be the worst he could ever feel.

Then again, he'd thought the same about having Stane pull the reactor out of his chest.

"Sometimes I wish I could rewire my brain. Debug the code. Fix it." Fix himself, shake out everything that made him erratic or unreliable, dial back the need to look ahead until he could focus enough on the present. He pressed his forehead into Bruce's throat to breathe through the wave of harrowing dread, something that he could usually shake off. Trying to not think was impossible in so many ways for so many reasons, but the least of them? Was getting his brain to shut up. "If I knew, it'd be better. One way or another."

Closure. He never got enough of it, not really. Things happened and he never had a chance to process them. Now? All he had was time and space to do that and it was over-fucking-whelming. At least with Bruce to lean on it wasn't so...impossible.

"...I got you." The sky was blue, the grass was green, gravity was certain and Bruce? Was here. With him. A fundamental truth of Tony's universe.