Chapter 15: Around The Bush

Tony was perusing the fridge for anything interesting. His eyes were wide with a residual something, and he chose to instead focus on the physicist's voice. "You sound better."

"You sound… not."

"Yeah, well, pobody's nerfect." Right now, Stark was drifting between two mentalities. He had quite a lot to say, but that wasn't possible with an audience.

Nice to know the whole team was back together. But it wasn't under the best circumstances. It was all a little frustrating, a cage of happenstance. He grabbed all the necessary ingredients for a hearty salad, tucking a bag of romaine lettuce between his teeth. "Met your, uh, friend earlier. She seemed nice." The refrigerator door was nudged shut.

"My friend…? Oh. Right. I told you about that."

"You sure did, Bruce." The following silence was so pregnant even the others could feel it. No one dared ask. Unspoken words piled ever higher on the engineer's tongue. How he wished for something to whisk them all away.

"Hey," Rogers asserted. "Is there something you wanna share, possibly?"

"Can't say there is, Stars 'n Stripes. Not my place. But if you wanna hear my opinion on your recent fashion choices…"

"Uh, Natasha," Bruce gently interrupted, "do you mind if I speak to him, privately?"

The trained agent performed her usual, subtle analyses on the doctor before handing him the phone. "Go ahead." The moment wreaked of broken context swept under the carpet… Of something clearly neither genius wanted to be known. It was deep and unusual, the agent could see that. And her inquisitive mind raced for answers. She would know something when he came back.

Thanking Natasha, Bruce excused himself, stepping outside the café doors. "Okay. Just you and me now." A short, staccato sigh sounded from the other end. There was this sense of anticipation, a swell of tension… but not a word spilled forth. "Uh, hello?"

"…? Oh, sorry. It's just been… a day." Stark's eyes wandered to a near-half-drunken bottle of wine off to the side. Induced mellowness inched further into his mind, pushing rationality out. The knife in his hand was held with a bit more liberty, and his movements were slow and viscous. The copper blade sliced into a tomato, red juice dribbling onto the cutting board. Chop, chop, chop. It was more satisfying than it should have been. "I see why you like Isis. What she does is—is eye-opening. Borderline transcendent. She saved me possible YEARS of chipping away at your little—bullshit blockade."

The muffled blade snipped into the doctor's ear. "…What do you mean?"

"You know what I mean." Tony helped himself to another sip of the drink, straight from the bottle. "Pretty sure Pepper's leaving me, by the way." Clicking his tongue, he sighed, not caring for discretion.

Bruce's stomach took a nosedive. "What?"

"That's right, I didn't tell you she saw us. She's always had a great poker face." Lolling his head to the side, he raised a brow as if the doctor could see him. The silence on the other end spoke volumes. Inhibition no longer had a hold on Tony, and something akin to peaceful agony settled in the trench of his heart. He straightened his sleeve, discarded bits of avocado and vegetables with a few graceless swipes over the cutting board. "But that wasn't the straw. We had a fight. Said some words. At the end of it, I told her that… you can give me something she can't." His voice cracked in a way Bruce hadn't heard in a long time.

Virginia "Pepper" Potts. Tony was certain they'd be together til' the end of their days. But there were some things missing that he'd been willing to ignore for so long. Understanding. Patience. Empathy. And perhaps she could say the same.

A swirl of giddiness and guilt churned within the doctor, and he couldn't tell which of the two he felt more of. A lonely, pining heart would surely soar in a moment like this. But, a reasonable, experienced one would know restraint. The confusion was a nuisance, and it all became an ordeal of eggshells. Nonsense. This was all nonsense, and he was shutting it down. "No. I'm not—Whatever you think I can do for you, it's not worth her." Nerves gripping him, he paced back and forth in the hall, shoes squeaking quietly. "You have to fight for her. I never wanted to get in the way of that."

"But you did," Tony said mid-chuckle, sniffling loudly. "You did." Ingredients were tossed together in a large bowl.

Silence trickled in, an uncomfortable but inevitable intermission. The doctor slipped through the cracks, seeped into him like acid. It turned him acid, burned bridges and preconceptions alike. It was slow and very cunning. The hard truth. Stark drew in a long breath through his parted lips, the warmed air filling him with some degree of comfort. "I solve all my problems. I'm good at it. But thanks to you, I realize I'm not."

A soft "clank" reached Bruce's ears over the line. "Are you—are you drinking?" The inquiry seemed to fall on deaf ears.

"Most days, I don't feel… like a person. I've always had to be somebody… to somebody. A symbol, a face, a stuntman. Small scale stuff's just secondary. I've gotten used to it… but maybe that's the disturbing part." The salad was complete, a medley of everything good with a glass of everything questionable on the side. He took a seat at the counter, dressing his portion with croutons and a zesty vinaigrette. "To answer your question, yeah. I am drinking. I'd be even more of a mess if I wasn't."

Did he really think that? That some alcohol could free him of himself? For all that genius and all that ingenuity, it turned out that a little bottle was his hero. His confidant. Not anyone else. Not anything else. Time after time, effort after effort, he couldn't get Stark to speak. Maybe his pride was just that important. And he said he was impenetrable. "You're lucky we're not in the same room right now."

"You plannin' on solving my problems? If my memory is anything to go by, and it is, you specifically told me you weren't 'that' kind of doctor." Yes, this was what Tony was used to. Derailing. Deflecting. Anything else was too frightening. He knew once he started to open up, he wouldn't be able to stop. No one could know every inch of him, every smudge, every tear. He had something to uphold. He was Iron Man. Banner needed someone strong right now, as did the rest of the world. And so he played the part.

"I don't have to be," Bruce answered coolly, "I just have to care."

His response sent the other internally reeling. They were words he expected, yet they took him by surprise. The calmness in which he answered, the lull of his voice… It proved more soothing than the contents of his glass. Unthinkingly, he slumped slightly forward as fondness melted his posture. All so simple. All so profound.

That's right. This is what Bruce did to him. "I love that you put up with me." Tony spoke abruptly. Chin in hand, he stroked his cheek with his thumb, catching the coarseness of his facial hair. "…I love that you make me feel like a person."

"Ha…" the doctor laughed sheepishly, leaning against the wall, "I should be telling you that." His smile slowly faded. There was something else he should say. "I'm sorry, y'know… for giving you such a hard time. I was afraid of myself."

"Lemme let you in on a little secret, pal: we're ALL afraid of ourselves. Your dark side is always gonna be there… And so is mine."

"Yeah, but… with you, I don't feel it. Not nearly as much. Once I realized that, things were never quite the same between us and why am I telling you this when you're drunk." Maybe Banner was a little drunk on the moment. It was just nice to talk. Not about this thing or that, not about the time in between last. It was nice to stumble over his words and panic a little and feel this… inconsequential ecstasy.

Tony on the other hand was flowing. The passage of time had graced him with unyielded eloquence. And he was going to use it. Inhaling deeply, he poked around in his salad, eating slowly. "Bruce, you're everything I never thought I'd see in a man. Endearing. Cute. Not annoying. Kinda sexy." He smiled at that. "There's a lot I don't deserve. I've been horrible by choice. Do you know how many lives I've helped end? And here you are, constantly trying your damnednest not to hurt a fly. You're incredible. I've got all the words and all the feelings to back it up… but do we have a situation that'll ever allow this to work?"

Banner's mouth opened then shut once more, tongue flicking across his lips. How exactly was he supposed to respond to that? The world seemed a little smaller around him, and prospects torpedoed into his head. He'd fought so hard against it. At the end of it, his desperate façade was just that: a façade.

They both have done horrible things. They both were what they were, and that wouldn't change. And they were both trying. Trying to be better. Trying to forgive themselves. There was understanding, There was patience. There was empathy. It just… made sense. And the despair of not having what made sense wasn't worth facing. "I—"

"Bruce, is everything alright?" Nat pushed through the doors, gentle concern moving over her face. It'd been close to 15 minutes since the jittery doctor had stepped out. Her curiosity got the better of her, as did her concern. Bruce stared at her for a moment with blank eyes. His face twitched and he quickly composed himself.

"Oh yeah, I'm fine." He cleared his throat. Though everything screamed at him to look away, he stood his ground, attempting a natural posture.

"Been talkin' your ear off, huh?" Natasha began with one of her charming smiles. Tony's feeble protests managed to catch her attention, and she kindly reached for the phone. Bruce complied. "Hey. You've had oodles of time with Bruce. I think maybe it's time to share." There was a pause as she listened. Her green eyes moved to the doctor in a knowing way. "That he does. Bold of you to say. Uh-huh..." Her eyes widened in shock. "You're kidding."

Panic, panic, panic. "Uhh, Nat?"

Romanov moved the phone from her ear, revealing the home screen. "He hung up 30 seconds ago." Her smugness deepened as she caught sight of Banner's frightened confusion. She carefully tucked the device away. "I know, that was a little mean. But whatever you're hiding… you'll have to do better than that. The boys in there will catch on."

Bruce sighed, alarm bells dying down. There was no point in denying the obvious; the spy was trained for this. "Giving you guys anymore reason not to trust me wasn't the idea, I promise."

"We trust you." Natasha looked almost hurt. "We were worried. I know you and Tony are close, and I know what Hulk did broke you. But you didn't trust us to help you pick up the pieces?"

The doctor rubbed the back of his neck, unsure what to say. Looking back on everything, she was right. He'd been much more interested in running, in torturing himself. He wanted to hate himself as some twisted recompense for his dangerous relapse. "I-I'm sorry."

"Well, you can show it by finishing lunch with us. You haven't eaten anything solid in 2 days."

…

Two weeks of surreptitious psych evals had eventually landed Doctor Banner back where he wanted to be. It helped that his friends vouched for him. After all, he'd established stability there, in addition to a support system. He was calmer, more optimistic than he'd been in a long while. The Hulk receded within him, and the peaceful moments much outshined the shaky ones. The nights were still a struggle, but the freedom he was beginning to feel again pushed him to move beyond it. He'd since had a shave, and a nice hair trim, curls parted loosely but clearly.

"Stop here, please." Stepping out of a taxi, he looked around. Fluttering blankets and tarp crackled high above, covering busted windows. Workers were on the job, doing the best they can, as fast as they can. He even spotted a couple of Stark's drones pitching in, repairing structures. That was New York for you. An alien invasion, HYDRA warfare, and a few Hulk-outs later, and the city still came out strong. The cool air kissed his face, carrying with it the scent of a nearby pizzeria. People shuffled past, not recognizing him or the damage he'd inadvertently caused. He was just another person on the street.

The Tower loomed so unwaveringly, protectively above the city. Brandished with its untampered and ever-meaningful "A", the doctor was reminded of all the good the team did these past few years. The good yet to be done. And also… this inescapable confrontation. There was a reason Bruce stopped a few blocks away. He had to gather his thoughts. Tucking his chilled hands into his jacket pockets, he trekked on, nervously. His friends really looked out; he was lucky to even be here. Should he even be here? Yes. Yes. There was no more running away. His soft eyes grew softer, and his breaths grew shallower.

He wanted more.

Something in him knew for a long time that what he felt for his science companion was different. It was little, unspoken things. Nuances that made one think but not too hard. And so it went overlooked. This level of acceptance, this trust and dedication… he hadn't had this from anyone since Betty Ross. He felt… safe. Before he knew it, he stood in front of the building's main entrance. Taking a deep breath, he got the jelly out of his legs and approached the automatic doors.

"Doctor Banner." Jarvis greeted him through the overhead speaker. "It's good to see you. I trust you're feeling better?"

"Much better, Jarvis, thank you. Er… can I… get in?" He waved a hand in front of the doors in an attempt to trigger the sensors. There was an abnormal pause from the AI, and Banner picked up on it.

"Uh, yes, of course, Bruce." The doors slid open. "You'll find them on the top floor." Them. So it was happening now. Great.

"Thanks."

…

The ride up was excruciating, and as the seconds ticked by, it felt as if Jarvis was standing there nervously with him. The anticipation was always the worst. The doors opened to silence. For a couple of minutes, he wandered around the floor, finding not a glimpse of raven or even blonde hair. He paused. "The platform." He went in said direction, and sure enough, two figures were seen standing at the edge. The conversation they were having seemed… strained. He slid the glass door open, and the two hadn't noticed him until he was directly behind them. "Hi."

Tony's eyes lit up, a marked improvement from just seconds ago. "Hey."

Bruce's cheek screamed with stinging pain as Pepper slapped him without hesitation. His nostrils flared a moment as he processed the action, eyes gently lidded. "I… deserved that." Wetting his lips, he rubbed the area as the pain began to subside. His brown eyes met her blue calmly, much to her unadmitted relief.

"Do you feel better now?" Tony berated, stepping between them. This was NOT how things were supposed to go.

"Congratulations, Doctor," the businesswoman glared over Stark's shoulder, "for managing to do the impossible. You've muscled me out of my own love life AND you can still look me in the eye after doing it." This was really not how things were supposed to go.

Bruce swallowed away the dryness in his throat; for a moment, it was all he could do. Pepper was right, wasn't she? This all had been a covert stealing. A quiet exchange of hearts. All were none the wiser. "I'm sorry, Pepper. I know this is terrible. But I can't help it."

The blonde woman smiled a sharp smile, meandering her not-boyfriend to meet Bruce eye-to-eye. "Tony said the same thing, you know. But I'm sure he told you about that. He tells you a lot more than he tells me." To think things had been starting to get a little better between them. After the incident, Tony had no choice but to recuperate, settle down. Every second he wasn't out there, risking his life was precious to Potts. The whole thing was a blessing in disguise, though she'd never, ever admit that. They'd been talking more, fighting less. But all that progress fell flat once the doe-eyed disaster came back on the radar. And now all she could see in those doe-eyes was… She blinked away angry tears, refusing to cry.

"Peps." Tony tried weakly, but it only earned him a cold stare. There wasn't much to say. No refute. No words of comfort. Everyone knew the truth.

"I DON'T want to share you." Pepper began. "If I can't have all of you, then what really is the point?"

"I'm not asking you to share me, Peps." Tony shut his eyes, as if the words he spoke pained him, "I think… I think this has been over for a while." He glanced at the doctor a moment, then back at her with a sigh. He'd been gripping onto the same straws for years. Excuses. Denial. Sex. Flowers. It'd been the fuel in the tank, and they'd both been fine enough with it. This was a relationship. This was how it was done. It was Tony's best attempt at one, at least. What Pepper wanted, he couldn't give. Perhaps he was terrible for it. Perhaps it couldn't be helped. "C'mon, Peps. All I've been doing is hurting you. It's a talent I wish I didn't have, and you don't deserve it, and I'm putting it to bed today." Something tore inside him, intangible yet potent. The end of a charming chapter fast approached, rosy, thorny prose still etched fondly across the walls of his mind. It was glue, it was rubber, not quite sure what to be. But his heart tipped the scales. Being torn was indication enough.

Pepper scoffed, eyeing the skyline below before turning to face the engineeer. "Oh? You're sparing me? Y'know, that really is noble of you, hon, doing this for MY sake. Tell me, Bruce, are you also doing this for me?" Potts couldn't take any more of this. Why couldn't they just admit they were doing this for themselves?

"I want this." The doctor blurted out. "It seems to've been this way for a long time; I just didn't see it. But I don't want to see you miserable, Pepper, and this," he gestured between she and Tony, "has always been yours first. It's your call. If you tell me to back off, I will. If you don't… I won't." Bruce held his head slightly low, though his earthy eyes gleamed with an irrefutable truth.

Pepper's freckled cheeks were flushed with stress and disbelief, cerulean eyes glancing between the two Avengers. Their connection was different, distinguishable from everyone else's. Why didn't she see it back then? The signs were all there. It seemed she still wanted to believe in a dying thing. Sighing, she wiped a fresh-fallen tear, a somber calmness in her voice. "I think a decision's already been made." Her petite fingers brushed over Tony's cheek in an endearing way, lingering before leaving altogether. Her back was turned to them as she returned to the shelter of the tower. The winds lapped at her loose hair.

A lump in his throat, Tony only had enough breath to call after her. "Peps…?" His tone was many inquiries in one.

"I need… some time." She called back. "Just some time." With not another word, Tony's ex disappeared behind the jutted corner of the far wall.

Bruce stared after her just as Tony did, until the very last moment. Shoulders slumped, he blinked over at the other. There was tension in his chest, and he held his breath, hoping the moment couldn't carry on without it. But it was inevitable. "I feel terrible."

The engineer nodded gently. "Yeah. But also… something else."

The doctor picked up on Tony's reluctance to say the words. It was gut-wrenchingly painful, heart-ripping, scary. And yet it was… good. The question that remained was:

Where do things go from here?

Banner nudged his glasses further onto his face with two fingers, rocking back and forth on his heels. If he were to speak now, only a garbled mess would come out. But if he didn't, he would surely never know what was going on in Tony's head. He watched him carefully, curiously. There were stress lines around his lips and on his brow, a sedated look set in his foggy gaze. His soft eyes were misted with conclusion; harrowed retrospect entangled him in a trance. How fascinating, to know everything he was contemplating, and yet… nothing. The exactitude of such a mental typhoon was uncertain, but his aura and trembling fingers gave light to his unexpressed ponderings. Finally, he caught Bruce's eyes, some of the brightness returning to his own. They stared and stared for a few moments, riding the waves of what this meant for them.

"Bruce." Tony spoke up. His voice had a little less edge than usual, gentle and soft.

"Yes…?" Bruce hummed back.

"You look worried."

"Yes. I-I mean no. No. I'm just…"

"Completely worried." Tony finished for him, stepping a little closer. "Nervous. Curious. And excited, yeah?" His fingers gently moved around Bruce's forearm, squeezing gently. "Me too." The brisk air stole the heat from their skin and breaths, coolness settling between the emotional heat. What anxieties they had settled now in idle waiting.

This was the last time he'd ever hurt Pepper. It was the beginning of something new. Improbable, unexpected, and potentially wonderful. He wanted to know. He needed to know. His hand fell away from the doctor's arm, the other raising to gently flick one of Bruce's hanging curls. "You trimmed it." A hint of a familiar smirk tugged at the corners of his mouth. Bruce couldn't help but give a small smile of his own.

"Didn't realize how long it'd gotten."

Tony's eyes moved over his flustered face, drinking in the details. "Neither did I. You look good." He meant that in every possible way. The doctor had an air about him now that seemed lighter. Freer. His mental bindings relinquished some considerable hold, and the foggy veil cast over his eyes had dissipated. They were warm again. Hopeful again. More ensnaring than they were before. The billionaire turned his attention to the work being done below, licking his cold, dry lips. Goddamn it. His nerves were acting up again.

"Thanks," Bruce finally spoke up after a few seconds, hands resting loosely on his hips. He didn't know what else to do with them. "So… The way things were with me last month…" Tony raised a hand to silence him, eyes still set on his busy drones. They were nearly done.

"Doesn't matter anymore." With a clenched jaw, Tony looked at him again. Bruce was only about 2 inches shorter than he was, but the difference was noticeable standing this close.
"You're here now, and that's all I've really wanted since then. Well, that, and…" Tony's chilled fingers rested on the side of the doctor's neck as he pressed a gentle kiss to his lips. Banner inhaled sharply, quickly melting into it. Warmth encased them both, and it was magnetic. This simple bliss lasted a few seconds more before Stark slowly pulled away. "…To know that this was the right decision."

Bruce gazed silently at him, mind muzzy and in disarray. It made Tony grin through his anxiety. He felt like he was 20 all over again.

"I think it is."