p • r • e • s • s • u • r • e

I Get it

Tony's words from last night echoe in Bruce mind.

You don't know the half of it.

He always knew there were parts of Tony's past he'd rather not reveal, just like himself. But the monsters in Bruce's past are long dead and they leave him in peace. Tony...Tony isn't quite so fortunate.

At first, Bruce thought that maybe he just needed to talk. But he never opened up to him. He tried to get him to talk about it, dropped hints by mentioning his own father, even asked him straightforward. He still does it, whenever the engineer gets that look in his eyes and that telling twitch in his hand, like he's preparing to run away from whatever creature might come bounding through the door.

"Do you need to talk about anything?" He'll ask.

Some days he got " Fuck you," or "Fuck off." Others he was ignored, or was only met with a sardonic smile, bleeding help me, for the love of god, please help me. On good days he'd get an explanation. This only ever happened once.

Bruce had walked into the kitchen with his hands in his pockets and leaned against the wall in the spot where he always leaned, and watched Tony. He'd seen the man storm angrily up the stairs and throw something off the balcony, and he immediately wanted to talk to him because "there are people down there, you can't just do that, you could kill somebody!"

But instead, he stopped at the top of the steps, looking down as he watched Tony unravel.

He paced around the couch, sat down in it just to stand up again and went to pour himself a cup of coffee. Bruce watched in horror as he pouring the liquid into the cup in the sink-and missed, dousing his hand instead. The scientist rushed down the stairs as Tony began to wipe himself off with a paper towel.

"Here, let me see."

The man shook his head.

"It's fine, it was cold.'

He sounded... disappointed.

"You didn't know that! What if it had been fresh coffee!"

Tony glared at him and poured what's left of the pot into his mug and popped it in the microwave.

"Doesn't matter. Besides, it's three in the afternoon. Why would it still be hot?"

The scientist shook his head.

"Do you need to talk about anything?"

Tony shot him a look, forcefully shutting the little door and punching buttons on the panel. The room was immediately awash with the steady hum of the fan.

"Why do you always ask me that?"

"Because I want to listen. You never tell me anything, and I wonder if maybe talking about it will help."

Tony looked at him wide-eyed, like he wasn't expecting that. He sighed, and dropped his head into his hands.

"I uh...Pepper decided she wants to stay in Chicago for awhile longer."

"Ah. Why..?"

"I don't-no, that's not true, I do know why, but I don't...I don't know which why is the truth."

Bruce cocked his head.

"I'm not-"

The microwave shrieked obnoxiously and Tony scrubbed a hand over his face, then opened it and slammed it shut to silence it.