p • r • e • s • s • u • r • e

Truth or Dare

Tony stretches, his left arm gracefully swiping at the sky, his linen shirt hanging loosely from his marred skin. He yawns.

"Jesus, I'm tired."

"You're not doing anything," Bruce points out.

Tony makes a face, but the goofy expression fades when his sees the scientist's eye widen comically.

"Banner? You good?"

He swallows, following Bruce's gaze down to his left forearm.

"Tony," he starts, an even keel voice barely masking his panic.

"Tony what is that?"

"What is what?"

"Your arm. What happened."

The engineer squeezes his eyes shut and tugs his sleeve back down.

"It's-they're old."

"No they aren't."

"Yeah, they are."

Bruce's eyes are full of concern, Tony's brimming with hot, salty tears ready to burn a path down his chapped cheeks.

"Can I see?"

"It's really not necessary. I'm fine. As I said-it's in the past, and I'd like to leave it there."

"Nice speech, but I know when you're bullshitting me."

"Bruce, I really don't need you to take care of me. This is my own problem. I can do this."

"You don't have to. You've got me."

"But you'll leave too. Everyone does."

"Not this time. You can't get rid of me that easily."

He offers a wan smile to Tony, who remains maudlin as ever.

"So...can I see?"

"I really don't need you to."

"I think you do. I just need to make sure it's healed up."

"It has. I'm okay."

"I'll be the judge of that."

Bruce pulls Tony's arm forward, rolling up the sleeve of his shirt and the engineer doesn't even bother resisting anymore.

Angry red lines spell "pathetic" down his arm, staining the skin around them a dark brownish-red. More cuts are littered all over his arm. Bruce sucks in a breath, fishing out an alcohol wipe from the cabinet under the sink to clean his wounds. The disinfectant stings, and Tony winces.

"It's true, y'know."

"No it isn't. Don't say that."

Later, Tony finds himself sitting on the balcony just outside the porch, and hears the door slide open behind him. He recognises the gait he hears. 

"I thought you were in Santa Fe?"

"Not anymore."  

Tony smiles as Rhodey's hulking figure joins him to sit on the ledge, then his smile falters as he remembers how Rhodey ran off to get away from Tony's drama. 

"Rhodey...I'm sorry."

"I know."

"No, I fucking suck. And I get that I can't control everything I do, but I reacted poorly, and I know you're mad, you have a right to be, and-"

"How could you have known?" The colonel cuts in. 

"I would have reacted just as badly-we all would have-just in different ways."

They let his words linger in the air.

"So I suck a normal amount?"

Rhodey rolls his eyes.

"We all suck. You actually suck less. But I'm trying to tell you that this is normal. Yeah, you reacted badly to negative stimuli. Who wouldn't? Shit happens, and it often causes other shit to happen. That's life. I was wrong to criticise you for it."

"That's a relief."

"I'm serious."

"Sure you are."

Rhodey sighs.

"I know you know I am."

The traffic roars below them, and Tony remembers who Rhodey is. He didn't try to talk him down from the ledge. He climbed up there with him. Because that's the kind of friend he is.

He rests his head against Rhodey's shoulder, a silent "thank you".

"I'm sorry for dragging you through my bullshit," he whispers.

"And I'm sorry for being an asshole about it."

"You're fine. Are you gonna ditch me again?"

"No. The real world is surprisingly boring."

Tony chuckles at that.

"I'm dating Bruce," he blurts.

"I knew it. Goddamn, I knew it was gonna happen. Ha!" Rhodey laughs.

"What-what do you mean?"

"It was so obvious. Unbelievably obvious."

"Shut up."

He grins. Meanwhile, Bruce watches from inside, pondering.