AN: Hey, people this is my very first story, and I'm pretty excited! I've been wanting to write something like this for a while now, and has been my motivation. Note that this is a progressive romance; Fair warning: I'm not diving into the love stuff within the first few paragraphs... I feel that takes away from the realism. Reviews are very much appreciated! Enjoy! 3
(Extra Note: This is a newer, edited version of the same story)

DISCLAIMER: I do NOT own Marvel or any of its characters.

Chapter 1: The Man that Death Forgot

Bruce thought he had come to terms with his curse. He thought he had learned to accept that which he couldn't change. Yet there he stood, at square one. The day had given way to night, thick condensation clouding his vision. All that surrounded him were dead, leafless trees, which provided no shelter from the elements. It didn't matter. The sky wept much as he did internally, soaking every inch of his shivering body. His gaze never wavered from the gun in his hand. The sleek metal was comforting in a way. He could rid himself of the recurring nightmares, the pain of suppressed emotions, the trauma of lives lost, of lives destroyed… all with a single bullet. It felt… good; for once in his life, he was in complete control. The moment quickly passed as wretched realization struck him: His first attempt had gotten him nowhere; how would this be any different? "Second time's the charm," he muttered under his breath. If he could find no cure, if he was a constant threat to others, he would have to die. He just had to keep trying.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" An all-too-familiar voice from behind startled the physicist out of his trance. Tony…

"How'd you find me…?" Bruce halfheartedly asked, removing the safety on the gun. He had travelled halfway across the country to a remote area, made sure to stay hidden, had no devices by which he could be tracked…

Huh.

It wasn't that much of a shock, he supposed; if Tony wanted to find someone, he would.

"Doesn't matter. Don't answer my question with a question."

"Well, Tony," Bruce chuckled, "It's pretty obvious what I'm doing." He offered not so much as a glance in the other man's direction. Cocking the gun, he continued, "I'm trying to solve a very big problem." The gun was raised to his temple, and his finger hovered over the trigger. "You might want to leave." Cold, metal hands whipped him around to face the billionaire. He could tell that Tony was genuinely concerned for him; the look in his eye said it all without him having to say a word. It puzzled him, however. Bruce had fractured the man's skull, broke quite a few of his ribs, and crushed his leg some 6 ½ months ago. Even now, he was still recovering.

"Do you realize just how stupid and selfish you sound right now?" Tony scoffed.

"No, I guess I don't." So what if he was being selfish? So what if he was being stupid? There was no point in going on the way he did. It was all a vicious cycle that had to end.

"…Drop the gun, Bruce." Tony demanded. This only made Bruce grip the weapon tighter. The billionaire's dark eyes peered into Bruce's, searching for the slightest glint of recognition. He found nothing of the sort. Tony knew his suicide attempt would fail; Bruce had said it himself. That wasn't what worried him. It was the simple fact that Bruce wanted to do it.

"I'm not sure I want to." Bruce mumbled.

Tony's metal-clad hand clasped around Bruce's wrist, hoping he would comply. "Bruce. Drop it."

It was clear Tony would have it no other way. Releasing a shallow breath, Bruce finally spoke. "Fine." The gun fell from his hand, his head bowed and gaze averted. "It wouldn't have worked anyway."

Tony released his grip on the doctor. "Maybe you should stop trying to solve a problem that's already solved itself." This made the doctor laugh.

"Has it?"

"Yes, it has. So promise me something. Promise me I'll never see that," Tony pointed to the gun on the ground, "in your hand again. I mean it."

Bruce raised his head, staring into the soft blue light that shone on Tony's chest. "…I'll try. That's about the only promise I can make."

"Good enough. I'm taking you back to New York." From the clouds emerged his aircraft, on autopilot. "Any opposition will be bluntly ignored."