Bruce stopped going into his lab. He stopped any and all experiments, letting go of mice and whatever other small animals he had there, only staying on biology floor long enough to make sure they went to a good home.
He went out of the Tower precisely once, for half a day directly after Man's examination, and ever since then, he spent his time hiding in the corners, on his own floor, in the tiny Hindu temple that he had once timidly asked for, or in deserted communal kitchen, doing... this.
"So," Tony told him cheerfully, walking up the table. "Not to brag, but I already did the 'become an alcoholic' side quest."
Bruce didn't say anything, so Tony invited himself to sit down. "I can give you cheat codes, if you want."
Nothing. Just a scrawny biology professor, staring ahead and fiddling with the label on his bottle.
Slowly tearing it apart.
"The Other Guy doesn't mind," Bruce offered eventually. "It makes him sleepy. Also confused, so." He shrugged. "Best not to socialise."
It was a pretty obvious go away and an even more obvious you'll need to lock me up soon and Tony hated them both. Especially since - in secret from Tony, or so he thought - Bruce had turned two out of his three chosen prisons into fucking gas chambers. Just in case.
You can't hide anything that goes on in the Tower from Tony, at least not anything that Jarvis considered dangerous and was concerned about, so both systems had some serious failsafes on them now - but the problem still stood. Bruce considered it entirely acceptable to just... choose to die in either his appartement floor or his temple. If he ever needed to be locked up for too long.
Potentially now. Tomorrow. Today.
"Talk to me, Bruce."
Silence. Tony wasn't the right person for this. He was never good at this 'being a friend' thing. Not enough practice. He shouldn't have people to take care of.
"I get that this isn't easy for you. You were almost a military weapon yourself---"
"I was almost creating military weapons myself."
Tony blinked. He couldn't be implying... "Bruce."
"We didn't re-break his bones. That will still have to happen. We took blood and urine samples - he was familiar with the procedure - and got him under an EKG. There's a number of tests I still want him to take."
Bruce was reciting it all dully, and Tony was getting more concerned, not less.
"Bruce, listen---"
"He should have a real doctor."
Not me, Bruce was saying. And he was right.
"We'll get him one," Tony decided. "I'm sorry, Bruce."
Bruce lowered his head, maybe as a nod. Or maybe in shame. I was creating military weapons, he said. It made Tony feel lighter and heavier at the same time. So was I.
So I am right now, a trecherous voice said, bringing up a mental image of his property sleeping peacefully on his own locked floor.
Sun was slowly going down in the kitchen window. The last rays of it glittered in Bruce's bottle. Tempting. They sat like that, two war criminals comisserating, for a long time.
FILL: PART 21 - Tony
Bruce stopped going into his lab. He stopped any and all experiments, letting go of mice and whatever other small animals he had there, only staying on biology floor long enough to make sure they went to a good home.
He went out of the Tower precisely once, for half a day directly after Man's examination, and ever since then, he spent his time hiding in the corners, on his own floor, in the tiny Hindu temple that he had once timidly asked for, or in deserted communal kitchen, doing... this.
"So," Tony told him cheerfully, walking up the table. "Not to brag, but I already did the 'become an alcoholic' side quest."
Bruce didn't say anything, so Tony invited himself to sit down. "I can give you cheat codes, if you want."
Nothing. Just a scrawny biology professor, staring ahead and fiddling with the label on his bottle.
Slowly tearing it apart.
"The Other Guy doesn't mind," Bruce offered eventually. "It makes him sleepy. Also confused, so." He shrugged. "Best not to socialise."
It was a pretty obvious go away and an even more obvious you'll need to lock me up soon and Tony hated them both. Especially since - in secret from Tony, or so he thought - Bruce had turned two out of his three chosen prisons into fucking gas chambers. Just in case.
You can't hide anything that goes on in the Tower from Tony, at least not anything that Jarvis considered dangerous and was concerned about, so both systems had some serious failsafes on them now - but the problem still stood. Bruce considered it entirely acceptable to just... choose to die in either his appartement floor or his temple. If he ever needed to be locked up for too long.
Potentially now. Tomorrow. Today.
"Talk to me, Bruce."
Silence. Tony wasn't the right person for this. He was never good at this 'being a friend' thing. Not enough practice. He shouldn't have people to take care of.
"I get that this isn't easy for you. You were almost a military weapon yourself---"
"I was almost creating military weapons myself."
Tony blinked. He couldn't be implying... "Bruce."
"We didn't re-break his bones. That will still have to happen. We took blood and urine samples - he was familiar with the procedure - and got him under an EKG. There's a number of tests I still want him to take."
Bruce was reciting it all dully, and Tony was getting more concerned, not less.
"Bruce, listen---"
"He should have a real doctor."
Not me, Bruce was saying. And he was right.
"We'll get him one," Tony decided. "I'm sorry, Bruce."
Bruce lowered his head, maybe as a nod. Or maybe in shame. I was creating military weapons, he said. It made Tony feel lighter and heavier at the same time. So was I.
So I am right now, a trecherous voice said, bringing up a mental image of his property sleeping peacefully on his own locked floor.
Sun was slowly going down in the kitchen window. The last rays of it glittered in Bruce's bottle. Tempting. They sat like that, two war criminals comisserating, for a long time.