Chapter 4
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(2.1m)abny
Bruce Banner stumbled after an overly excited Tony Stark to the penthouse’s elevator. Not for the first time, Bruce wondered if the man had ever heard of the phrase, decent night’s sleep. Even living rough, Bruce still managed to get his eight. Provided no one was chasing after him that is. Still, being awoken by a bright-eyed Tony Stark at 5am after getting to bed just after 1am was messing with his rhythms. He recalled Tony bending over him in the dim room, waking him abruptly, which was so very not helpful for various reasons. “Hey Brucie, buddy, you’ve got to see this, It’s finally finished!” Bruce blinked up at Tony’s face, struggling out of REM sleep.
“Wha-, Tony?” Tony tapped his nose annoyingly.
“Come on, wakey wakey, you are so going to love this!” Bruce swiped Tony’s hand away and rubbed his face.
“What time is it?” Bruce asked tiredly.
“It is 5:13am Dr. Banner.” The A.I.’s voice replied helpfully.
“Thank you JARVIS.” Bruce said. Tony gripped his arm and pulled.
“Come on Bruce.” Tony insisted. Bruce winced at Tony’s eagerness this early in the morning.
“Ok Tony, ok, I’m coming.” Tony resisted making the obvious joke as he led Bruce in his PJ’s to his awesome surprise. Bruce sighed and let himself be pulled along behind Tony, he’d almost think the genius was on something, except from what he’d seen of him; he was always like this. Jumping around like an ADD squirrel on crack, a bit like that Ice Age rodent actually. Tony hummed the song Black Betty under his breath as he drummed on the railings behind him on the elevator. The doors abruptly opened after traveling down for a few minutes, and Bruce followed the enthusiastic billionaire down a very wide and tall hallway leading to a huge reinforced door. Tony explained that a hybrid mixture of vibranium and adamantium bolstered this entire floor; creating a new alloy that he had taken to calling starkanium. Tony smirked and pointed to a scanner in the door.
“Alright place your hand right here.” Bruce had a sinking feeling that he knew what was going on. It was only a matter of time after all, before Stark began treating him like the monster he was. Bruce with a heavy heart placed his hand on the door. Which sprung open at his touch having scanned the unique veins in his hand and the blood pumping through them. The smell of fresh paint and lacquer struck him first. Then he saw the rest of the room. It was a huge open space, everything from the solid looking couches, to the tables, the fridge, and flat screens were oversized. There were large doors leading to other parts of the floor. A giant piñata Jack Sparrow with an eye patch hung in a corner, swinging gently. Soft lighting lit up the incredibly plush carpeting. A line of thick reinforced windows overlooked the city on opposite sides of the room. Tony moved closer to him tracking the shifting expressions on his face. “So what do you think? You haven’t even seen the bedroom, and there’s a pool too!” Bruce shook his head slowly.
“I’ve lived here for over two months and I never noticed this being built.” Bruce said faintly. Tony smiled brightly.
“I know, I used ninja builders, well not actual ninja builders but they are quiet. I can still change whatever either of you want or anything, I mean yeah I used a brick motif for the paint job, that might have been a bad choice, but we could go with any colors you want, or any furnishings-” Bruce interrupted Tony’s babbling.
“Tony, stop.” Tony stopped his shoulders drooping at his tone.
“What?” Tony asked in a small voice. Bruce wrapped his arms around himself, trying to keep the other guy in.
“It’s, it’s a nice cage Tony.” Bruce spoke in a strangled voice. Tony eyes locked on him.
“A what? A cage?” Tony asked incredulous. Bruce backed away, trying to hold himself together. Sickened that he had been right all along. Tony Stark was the same as everyone else. No different than Ross.
“I’m done, I’m going to go pack my things.” Bruce said calmly, turning to go back to the penthouse. Tony reached out and grabbed his arm.
“Wait Bruce!” Tony yelled desperately. Bruce snapped and swung the genius into the wall and trapped him with his hands on either side of the smaller man as his eyes glowed an incandescent green.
“What!? What do you want from me!?” Bruce bellowed. Tony still didn’t smell of fear, but his eyes were wide and he trembled, almost imperceptibly to any eyes but his own.
“Just hear me out kay? Please, just hear me out at least.” Tony pleaded. The lack of fear was what convinced him, that and the indescribable emotion in the man’s eyes that he couldn’t read but it hurt him to see.
“I’m listening, but I told you, and I told Fury, I don’t do cages, no matter how comfortable they are.” Bruce snapped coldly as he moved back from the man and gave him some space. Tony lifted his hands, placating and then ran them through his hair.
“Ok listen, maybe I didn’t think this through. But I just thought it would be cool if Hulk had a floor of his own, I mean I made you one too, you know? I’m still working on it actually, but I just thought you’d both feel better if you could let him out once in a while to just hang, ya know, and relax? He can totally mess around in here, there is even a sort of exercise slash playroom that he can jump around and smash things in if he wanted. Yeah… this was a bad idea wasn’t it? I told you before that bad ideas aren’t a new thing for me.” Tony finished lamely. Bruce huffed a breath and calmed down a little.
“Tony, I… I know what your trying to do, but this door has a lock on it doesn’t it.” Bruce said sadly.
“For your safety, but Hulk can get out when ever he wants. See the scanner on this end; it would open for either Hulk or you.” Tony’s voice grew softer. “It’s not much of a cage if you’ve got the key.” Bruce glanced at the door and noticed the large scanner on this side, large enough for the Other Guy’s hand. Bruce’s eyes returned to their normal brown and he shifted uncomfortably, feeling bad about how he had acted and how close he had come to losing control.
“…Thank you, Tony. I don’t know if I would ever use it, it’s too dangerous. It, it wouldn’t be safe, but it’s…a nice thought. I’m sorry I misunderstood.” Tony waved a hand dismissively, grinning.
“Don’t worry about it, considering what you’ve been through, I probably shouldn’t have sprung it on you like that, my bad.” Bruce shook his head.
“No its my fault- wait- did you say you had designed me a floor as well?” Bruce asked thinking back to what Tony had said. Tony smiled tentatively.
“Well I couldn’t have you sleeping on my floor forever, could I? Well I could, of course I could, but it would make me bringing bedmates over kinda awkward, unless you wanted to join in or something, which I’m totally up for by the bi, pun boldly underlined. Brains are the new sexy, oh look a new, new bumper sticker! Or maybe that’s too zombie.” Bruce ignored Tony’s banter, and frowned.
“A whole floor for me? Tony that’s too much.”
“No it really isn’t, I should have had it finished weeks ago, but I was busy with, you know, stuff, so I didn’t have time to focus on it until now. It’ll be done by Friday, unless you don’t want to wait. It’s just the final touches on the lab that need to be done, then it’s all yours.” Tony said.
“A lab? My own lab.” Bruce said slowly.
“All yours to blow up at your own discretion, no more sharing with the R & D department, they were getting a bit miffed at the explosions, but they needed to be kept on their toes anyways.” Tony said, smiling.
“Tony, that’s, all that’s wasted on me.” Bruce said.
“No it isn’t. You’re awesome Banner, you deserve awesome things.” Tony said.
“I don’t, I really don’t, I’m a m- murderer.” Monster, Bruce thought. Tony gestured to himself.
“Yeah, Merchant of Death here, stones and glass houses and all. But Hulk only ever hurt people in self-defense or by accident. I can’t make any such claims, yet I have tons of awesome stuff, you don’t see me depriving myself.” Tony said.
“Tony.” Bruce said in exasperation.
“Brucie.” Tony mimicked back and then shrugged. “Just accept it. I’ve already built it; I’d be rude to turn it down now. I have more than enough space and money to throw around anyways.”
“I…Thanks Tony.”
“Anytime Big Guy, anytime.” Tony said and put his arm around the other man to lead them both back up to the penthouse.
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After dropping Bruce off at his bedroom, Tony swiftly left for his workshop. He had JARVIS lock everything down, blacking out the windows and glass doors. As he entered he was immediately surrounded by his bots, DUM-E, Butterfingers, and new You. He patted them each on the head, taking a suspicious shake from DUM-E, and not drinking it as he headed towards the comfy couch at the end of the shop. He collapsed into it, placing the drink on the end table as he began to shake in earnest. New You brought over a ragged afghan and tossed it on his knees. JARVIS dimmed the lights and began to quietly project an old movie on the wall in front of him. Butterfingers rested his head on his knee gently; trying to offer what comfort he could, while Tony quietly shook. JARVIS didn’t ask what was wrong, he knew. Tony curled himself on his side, staring at Basil Rathbone acting like a German bookseller. The black and white flickering of the familiar slowly calmed him; he shut his eyes and tried to sleep. He gave up an hour later and began work on a portable container for the Mark 43, the blue holos and his bots surrounding him as he clutched the blanket to himself.
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(2.2m)abny
Clint Barton didn’t know what to think about the offer he had gotten from Stark. He’d approached Fury with the letter a few days later, thinking it was some kind of joke. He had been promptly informed to get the fuck off this fucking ship and get his ass over to the Tower like yesterday. Barton didn’t argue. He left a coded message for Natasha, who he hadn’t seen in almost two months, packed his few things in a duffel and was dropped off at Manhattan by Agent Sitwell. Sitwell was one of the few agents who hadn’t treated him differently since the whole Loki incident. After landing Sitwell turned in his seat and shook hands with him, gripping his wrist. “Good luck to you.”
“I’m sure I’ll need all the luck I can get. Thanks though.” He said sincerely. Sitwell nodded and Barton left the quinjet. Sitwell strongly reminded him of Coulson, he was much more than he seemed, and a good agent. Barton was glad that he had survived the invasion. He slung his duffle over his shoulder and headed for the most ostentatious building in Manhattan, semi hoping that this was all a sick joke after all. He was not looking forward to living on Stark’s dime for who knew what reasons, but he hated being in the Helicarrier even more, useless, grounded from missions, avoiding everyone, but still feeling their loathing like a collective fist to the gut. It had all taken a turn for the worse since Natasha had left for her mysterious mission. Living with Stark couldn’t be worse than all that. It just couldn’t.