Surprising as it may have been for Tony, the Gardner State Penitentiary did not look like an evil, terrible place. As far as prisons went. And Tony had, in his youth, seen his fair share of prisons.

The place was comprised of several large, brown-bricked buildings, all surrounded by a simple barbed-wire fence. Tony vaguely considered I the back of his mind that the man he was going to see should be locked up in something with a much, much higher security system. Possibly underground. Beneath several levels of concrete. He strode quietly to the visitor's entrance, a large, white building. He tapped once on the front window, and the door opened inward. He nodded slightly at the security guards as he walked past. JARVIS had made the arrangements while he was flying to the prison.

Walking through the halls, he thought again about Bruce, wondering if he was okay. The last time Bruce had experienced a nightmare this bad, he had come far, far, closer to having an incident. Tony remembered that night perfectly.

Bruce thrashed in his sleep, his thumping heart almost audible in their small bedroom. It was only the third time that Bruce had slept in Tony's room, but Tony could already tell what was happening.

"Bruce. Bruce, wake up." He pressed his hands to the sides of Bruce's face, wrapping one leg around Bruce's side. "Come on, big guy. Wake up."

Bruce roared, and rolled off of the bed. Tony, his leg still hooked around Bruce's waist, fell off with a quiet shriek, landing with Bruce on top of him.

"Bruce!" Bruce pushed his body up on his elbows, panting, and for the first time, Tony noticed the faint tint of green coloring Bruce's cheeks.

"Bruce? Hey, hey, Bruce, come on." Tony reached up again, and cupped Bruce's cheeks in his hands. Bruce jerked his head down, closing his eyes, and growling, his fist thumping the ground next to Tony's head. Tony ran his fingers through Bruce's curls, and wrapped his legs around the physicist's midsection, and pulled him as close as he could. "Bruce, baby, look at me." He kissed Bruce's cheek, and slid his hands down to wrap them around the back of his neck. Bruce's wild, unfocused eyes flashed open, and Tony, for the first time, saw the black irises that had replaced his green ones.

"Bruce, look at me, it's okay." Tony brought his head up to kiss Bruce's lips, and moved his hands down, roving them over his partner's body. Bruce's eyes finally focused on Tony's, though his breathing did not become any less erratic.

Tony pushed off of the ground, and flipped them, so that hey lay on top of Bruce's shuddering body. Bruce's eyes widened, and Tony leaned down, pressing their foreheads together.

"It's okay. I'm here. It's okay." He murmured, the repetition becoming a quiet chant of comforting words. Tony kissed Bruce's cheeks, his lips, his hair, his neck, whispering quietly as he did so. "I love you. It's okay. We're okay."

Slowly, Bruce's breathing began to calm. His heart slowed, and when Tony looked up, black had once again been replaced with hazel. Bruce closed his eyes, and took a deep breath, before bringing his hands up, to wrap them around Tony's waist, pulling him close, and holding him there. Bruce buried his face in Tony's neck, and Tony slid his fingers back up through the mess of brown curls. Bruce's body began to shake, but now, not with anger, with fear, as he sobbed into Tony's shoulder. Tony curled his fingers through Bruce's hair, and kissed the top of his head.

"It's okay. It's okay. Shh, I got you. It's okay."

Tony was snapped back to the present by the sound of a cell door opening. He looked to his left, and a guard nodded at him, motioning for him to go in. Tony jerked his head in response, before taking a few timid steps into the small room.

It was well-lit, and it appeared they had woken the man up for his visit. He sat, about five-foot-ten, by Tony's approximation, his body well-built for a man who had been in prison for over twenty years. He was now 67, as his file had told Tony when JARVIS had read it to him on the ride there. Tony stood still for a moment, staring silently at the man before him, who simply stared at the wall, not speaking. Eventually, Tony sat down in the metal chair that had been provided for him.

"Mr. Banner." Tony said quietly, his voice even. "Did they tell you who I am?" Bruce's father shook his head.

"No. Just woke me up."

Tony nodded, staring quietly for another moment. This man was nothing. This man did not exist. If Tony had his way, he wouldn't exist much longer, but, as JARVIS had very gently reminded him, that was very, very illegal.

"My name is Tony Stark. And I'm here because of Bruce." He didn't say 'your son' because Bruce wasn't this man's son. His head shot up.

"You know him?" The voice was gruff, and underused, and Tony wondered how long it had been since this man had actually conversed with another person.

"Yes. I do." Tony responded, his voice remaining entirely monotone.

"Little bastard die yet?" Bruce's father asked, glaring at the wall. Tony bristled, his fists clenching.

"No, he's fine." The man's shoulder sank.

"Oh." He said shortly, still staring at the wall. Abruptly, Tony stood up, and took a step forward, dragging the chair with him, and sitting back down. The man in front of him finally turned his head, making eye contact with Tony for the first time.

"Why are you here, then?" Tony finally allowed his face to take on a shape worthy of looking at the creature in front of him.

"Why did you do it?" He asked, ignoring the question. Bruce's father looked at him questioningly.

"What?" He asked, cocking his head to one side.

"The abuse." Tony replied, his hands clenching into fists around the chair. The man nodded.

"Honestly?" He asked, shaking his head, and looking down. "I hated that the little fuck was smarter than me. And then his mother...she loved it. It was bullshit." Tony's body grew hot, and his knuckles became white with the intensity with which he gripped the chair.

"Really, now?" Tony said quietly, and staring into the face of the man who had hurt his loved one, he felt nothing but malice. The man shrugged.

"Gave up hiding it after they put me in for life."

"Hm. You still hate him?" Tony tilted his head.

"Yep." He muttered, looking down. "He's the reason I'm in here, little bitch." Tony nodded, and paused for a moment before the chair was across the room, and Bruce's father was up against the wall, with Tony's surprisingly strong fingers wrapped around his neck. The prisoner's eyes went wide, and he stared at Tony with a mixture of fear and disbelief. Tony held him there for a moment, not moving, before he finally spoke.

"Your son..." Tony began, looking straight into his eyes as he continued. "Is the most incredible human being I have ever met." The man's eyes lost their previous concern, and his expression switched to one of raised eyebrows, and skepticism.

"He was a loser when he was a kid." He choked out, reaching up, and gripping his wrist. "And now I read in the paper he's a monster." Tony tightened his grip, cutting off his airway completely.

"Bruce is twice the man you will ever be, and have ever been. I did my research before coming here." And he had, JARVIS had helped. "You dropped out of highschool. Your parents were both genius mathematicians, but you hated everything academic. When you married Bruce's mother, it was because she got knocked up in the back of a MacDonalds, and you pulled Bruce out of school at age six because his teachers wanted to put him in advanced classes." His voice shook with rage as he continued, still squeezing. "Bruce is a genius, and a scholar, and a good man, and everything you never were and never will be." He let go, stepping back, and letting the older man gasp and cough for air. "You're being transferred in the morning to solitary confinement, where you'll spend the rest of your miserable life alone, with no outdoor access." He stated coldly, smoothing down his suit.

Bruce's father looked up at him, rubbing his neck.

"You and that kid friends or something?" He asked, glaring up at Tony with almost no emotion. Tony smirked, a small amount of his normal, businessman self pushing through his malice.

"Husbands, soon, hopefully." He said, pushing the chair back to the other end of the room. Bruce's father looked up at him aghast, his eyes widening again. Tony nodded. "Somehow it doesn't surprise me that you're a homophobe." He muttered, before turning, and leaving the room. He paused as he reached the door of the cell.

"You're never going to touch him again." Tony said quietly from the doorway. Bruce's father laughed.

"Don't be so sure."

"Oh, I am." Tony clenched his fist. "Because if you do, I'll kill you." And with that, he walked out, his shoes clacking on the plasticine floors.

He had somewhere better to be.

When Tony came home, Bruce was still in bed, having drifted off into a quiet sleep. Tony shucked his suit, and slid under the covers next to him. He wrapped his arm around Bruce's waist, and Bruce shifted slightly, curling into Tony's body. He blinked, and opened his eyes, reaching for Tony's hand.

"Where..." He trailed off, and Tony's face hardened.

"You know where." He growled, and the arm around Bruce tightened protectively. Bruce nodded, and laced his fingers through Tony's, pressing his body closer.

"Alright." He murmured, turning his head to kiss Tony's cheek. "Get some sleep."

Tony nodded slightly, and kissed Bruce's head gently. "G'night, babe." He whispered.

Over the years, there would be many more nightmares for both of them. But whenever Bruce would wake up scared, Tony would destroy whatever scared him. And whenever Tony screamed in the night and sat up not sure where he was, Bruce would wrap his arms around Tony's waist, and pull him back into the covers, soothing him quietly with his hands and words.