Bruce
“Hi.”
Bruce opened his eyes, squinting at the artificial light streaming through his bedroom door. There was a figure standing in the doorway, blocking a large portion of the light from the hallway. He immediately recognized the short form as Tony Stark’s.
“Tony?” he asked, sleepily, slowly sitting up in his bed and leaning against the wooden bed frame.
“Hi,” Tony repeated.
“You alright? It’s,” Bruce rubbed his eyes and rolled over to check the time. “It’s four in the morning.”
“I can’t sleep. I can’t-” Tony said, frustrated, pacing the floor just inside his room. He stopped. “Sorry.”
Bruce yawned, patting the space on the bed beside him. “S’okay. Sit.”
Tony reluctantly moved forward, smoothing out the bed sheets before sitting down on top of them. Bruce couldn’t exactly see Tony’s expression, as it was dark, but he could see enough to know that he was upset over something. And it was rare that Tony Stark got upset. At least, it was rare to see him upset in front of others. Bruce had seen him totally messed up but insisting he was okay, only for JARVIS to call him a few minutes later to tell him that Tony was practically dying on the ground of his workshop.
“You okay?” he asked carefully. If Tony actually came to him for help, it must be bad.
“I can’t sleep,” Tony replied, shaking his head. “It’s just, I thought you might understand. I can’t get my mind to shut up. How do you do it?”
“How do I what?” Bruce asked, still half asleep.
“How do you sleep?” Tony said, and he sounded so tired that Bruce actually thought he was crying.
“JARVIS, lights,” Bruce said, and the lights came on, dim, but just bright enough so that he could make sure that Tony wasn’t actively tearing up. He seemed alright, not even any watery eyes, but the heavy eye bags were even more prominent than usual. Then again, Tony wore sunglasses indoors, so it was hard to compare the usual to now.
“I just can’t stop thinking, it’s one thought after another. I have to build, I have to write things down before I forget them, and my mind just won’t shut up,” Tony said, rubbing the bridge of his nose, and Bruce could only imagine the headache that he must have. “I’m so tired.”
“Sometimes when I can’t sleep, I drink chamomile tea,” Bruce offered. “Or any type of tea, really, as long as it’s decaf.”
“I’ve tried that. You know that stupid tea that’s supposed to calm you before bed, the one that’s actually made for that purpose?” Tony said, obviously frustrated. “It just doesn’t work for me.”
“How many teas have you tried?” he asked. “Maybe there’s one that you haven’t tried, that-”
“Bruce. Trust me on this. I’ve tried them all,” Tony said, chuckling coldly. “I can’t wait until Pepper comes home and sees the cupboard stuffed to the gills with boxes of tea, each with only one tea bag missing.”
“When does she come back?”
“Ten days,” he replied. “Not that I’ve been counting.”
Bruce nodded. Tony would never admit it, but he needed other people sometimes.
“I’ve read that cooling the room temperature helps sometimes, that’s why hotel rooms are so cold. It has something to do with lowering your body temperature faster, which is what happens naturally when you sleep.”
“It also increases melatonin levels. I know, I’ve read about it,” Tony said. “And I’ve tried it. I’ve tried everything. I just can’t sleep,” he stressed.
“Maybe it’s all that screen time? Blue light from screens can make it harder for your brain to shut down, and-”
“I’ve tried. I’ve tried everything. It’s not, it’s just-” Tony stopped himself, shaking his head. “Nothing helps. Sorry.”
“Caffeine levels?” Bruce sighed, knowing that Tony wouldn’t give up coffee for the world.
“I went a few days without caffeine,” he replied, and Bruce was surprised. “I still couldn’t sleep. It would be around six when I’d finally feel calm enough, and then the next thing I know JARVIS is waking me up, telling me that I have to go to a meeting.”
“There’s always sleeping pills,” Bruce offered, a last attempt. Sleeping pills were dangerous, as they could cause people to not be fully awake if they woke up earlier than the sleeping pill was designed for, and they were very easy to overdose on.
“I can’t. They’re just, it’s just,” Tony sighed. “I just-”
“Nightmares,” he finished for him.
“Yeah.”
Nightmares made things tricky. It was hard to wake up from them while on sleeping pills, and being trapped in a dream, especially ones full of triggers from past events, was terrifying. And even if he did manage to wake up, he wouldn’t be fully awake because the pill made people like that, which could cause car accidents and other mistakes that could be fatal.
“You doing alright? Apart from the sleeping problem?” Bruce asked carefully. Tony usually didn’t open up to people, so he wasn’t really expecting much heart-to-heart with him.
“Perfect. Everything’s just peachy,” Tony rubbed his hands on his face.
Bruce knew Tony was lying. If it had just been sleep bothering him, then he wouldn’t have this expression on his face. Bruce knew the look; there was hopelessness and tiredness written all over his face, a complete lack of faith in his future. It was like he didn’t see past the next day. All he could focus on now were the problems weighing him down, not the next project for Stark Industries, not the next big game on TV, and not the daylight that tomorrow brings. It was just empty.
“I just wish I could sleep.”
“Sorry I couldn’t help,” Bruce said, and even though Tony did interrupt him from a relatively okay dream at four in the morning, he really meant the apology.
“It’s okay. Sorry to bother you,” Tony stood up, and Bruce saw through his unfocused eyes that he probably wasn’t seeing much right now. Hypotension sometimes did that to people.
“Tony,” Bruce said, reaching over and grabbing onto his arm as Tony swayed slightly. He blinked twice, then his eyes slowly focused back on Bruce. “You should probably drink some water.”
Tony smiled sadly and stepped out of Bruce’s grip. He had a hand on the doorknob before he turned around. “I just thought you’d understand.”
“I really do, Tony. I get it.”
Tony just shook his head. “But thanks anyway.”
“Anytime,” Bruce nodded, confused. “Goodnight, Tony.”
“Goodnight, Brucie-bear,” Tony said, stepping out of the room and closing the door softly behind him.
The lights turned off (courtesy of JARVIS), and Bruce rolled over, but sleep came less easily. The look in Tony’s eyes haunted him, the emptiness, as those eyes held the same expression that Bruce’s did, back when he, well, when he got low.
He understood too late.
He curled up tighter under his blankets and silently prayed that Pepper would be home sooner.