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Jesus, Tony

A strange sort of sadness flashes through Tony's face-he looks for a moment like a six year-old who's lost his mother in a shopping mall, fearing abandonment.

He shrugs.

"It's fine. Threw one hell of a party, more than made up for it."

I doubt that, Bruce thinks.

"Anyway. Enjoy the book, and the erm...commentary."

The scientist laughs.

"Yeah, I noticed that. It's actually rather amusing. Like a...like I'm looking into the past. Your past."

"Mmm. Not sure there's much to see there," Tony chuckles.

The two men continue talking, laughing cordially. The engineer writes something on a piece of paper, fucks it up and crumples it. He throws it at the wastebasket in the corner and misses.

"Oooof," Bruce comments.

"Oh shut up."

The billionaire sits up again, but finds himself dizzy and something hurts, god only knows what...

"It's fine, I'll get it."

"Just leave it, I'll pick it up later."

"That's exactly what you said about your garage, and now it's a fucking mess."

"Touché."

The man goes back to sketching the specs for a new comm system on his tablet, chewing on his knuckle contentedly.

"Jesus, Tony."

"What."

He doesn't look up from his screen. Jesus, Tony! had become a rather commonplace exclamation in his life.

"What the hell?"

The man rolls his eyes and looks up to see Bruce, holding the bottle.

His blood runs cold, but he swallows and maintains composure.

Tony looks back down and continues sketching.

"Please put it back," he asks, perfectly calm.

"What the fuck?"

He sighs.

"Is this how you got those marks on your back?"

The engineer shrugs.

"I thought it happened when you were fighting, and you were just being a moron!"

How much longer is he gonna go on about this?

"Well, you thought wrong."

Bruce inspects the glass again, noting the dried blood. He throws it in the trash can.

"So let me get this straight. You broke a glass bottle, found leather cord, tied it around said bottle and flagellated yourself with it?"

Tony looks up from the drawing and squints at the window.

"Mmmm...yeah. Sounds about right."

The scientist makes a noise, and Tony is pretty sure it means frustration, though it sounds rather like a walrus mating call.

"What the fuuuuck..." He moans through the hands he's dragged over his face.

"You didn't do it again, right?"

Tony freezes briefly.

" Right?"

"Right. Nope. Didn't do it again."

"You're lying."

He huffs.

"Yess, yes I am. Goddammit."

Why am I excellent at lying to literally everyone under the sun except Bruce and Pepper? God, it's annoying.

"How many times."

"Three."

"Three!"

Tony winces.

"Three times?!"

"Yes, that is, in fact, what I just said."

The scientist sighs.

"Wow. Okay. Well, you're not going to...I mean, we've done the surgery now and you should be feeling..."

"Bruce, the surgery isn't magic. It didn't change anything! It just-"

"It took away your control," Bruce finishes.

Tony says nothing but Tony agrees, he agrees so much.