p • r • e • s • s • u • r • e

what did you do?

He did, however, have a certain flair for the theatric that Tony refused to claim responsibility for.  

"The arc reactor was offline for nearly thirty minutes."

"Oh come on."

"I believe it isn't secured properly and will need to be removed, then reinserted so that the red dots at the top line up, then rotated ninety-degrees anticlockwise."

"Thanks, Hal."

"Got it."

"Yeah and why don't you open the airlock while you're at it."

"You do not have an airlock, sir," said JARVIS. 

"Smart ass." 

Bruce smoothed over the last bandaid and patted him a little too hard on the back. Tony groaned. There was a cashmere cardigan draped over the back of the sofa and he launched it at Tony's face. 

"Okay...red dots," murmured Bruce, if only to fill the silence. He couldn't help but notice the slight air mistrust that settled as soon as he approached the engineer. He smelled like black peppercorns and bay leaves and alcohol and fear. Deft fingers twisted the reactor and pulled. Tony all but collapsed against him. 

"Whoa, you okay?"

"Yeah," he gasped.

"Is this normal?"

"Relatively."

He was in a fair amount of pain and hiding it poorly. Bruce searched for the dots while Tony steadied himself against the table, sitting down on his metal stool. God, he hated stools.

"You ok?"

"M'fine."

Bruce lined up the tiny dot of red sharpie paint marker with the matching on on the housing chamber, slid it in and spun it to the left. 

Tony, still unsteady on his feet, tried to warn him.

"That might not be a good i-"

Tony yelped in pain and sank to the ground, his back against the cabinet and Bruce at his side.

"...a good idea." The agony was evident in the creases and lines that punctuated his face, the pinched skin around his eyes, panting like he'd just run a marathon.

"Does this happen every time?"

"Every time." 

"I thought you messed with this thing all the time?"

"I do," he murmured. 

Bruce felt the overwhelming urge to wrap him in a hug. He sighed and draped a friendly arm around his frame.

"Tony...is it painful?"

He tried to smile but it came out as a grimace, revealing his pain instead of hiding it. His lies had a habit of doing that. 

"What do you think."

"Then why...I mean, why is it still there anyway?"

Tony shrugged.

"What does that mean?"

"Means it's not enough of a problem for me to bother getting it removed." 

"Doesn't seem like it. I just-I worry that chronic pain...it lowers your quality of life. Significantly."

Tony cackled sardonically. Because wasn't that just the perfect way to sum up everything he was in this moment. 

Bruce looked to him for an answer, but he wouldn't explain. How could he?