Chapter 2
It's not like Tony counted the minutes of Bruce's unconsciousness, except that's exactly what he did. By the time his count passed 18 hours, he was practically vibrating with anxiety. He'd monitored the activity in Bruce's room but then realized how creepy it was that he was watching his lab partner sleep. So he wandered around, trying--and failing--to find something to distract himself until he eventually wound up in the common area, where the others settled in unspoken solidarity. Or nosiness.
"Is Banner up yet? It's been hours," Clint said, casually. Eighteen and change, to be exact, but Tony didn't say that. He envied Clint's casualness. Steve had said "Tony must be overworking him," but it was a joke, a light jab...right? Bruce didn't work for him. They were partners. They could both come and go as they pleased. And Bruce delighted in science even more than Tony. If anything, science was leisure and his job was the Avengers shit. The transformations. If anything it was Steve--or SHIELD or whatever--that wore Bruce out, and Tony who restored him, and if Captain America ever implied otherwise, Tony would--
"Should we wake him up? Is he ill?" Thor asked. The only questions Tony could grapple with for the past three-quarters of a day.
"I'm awake," said a voice in the doorway.
"Doctor Banner!" Steve exclaimed, and it wasn't until Tony heard Steve's relief and excitement that he realized Captain America had been just as nervous about their teammate. Bruce looked rumpled like he had just woken up not a minute ago, but his hands were clasped around a hot mug of tea. So he'd been awake long enough to boil water, make himself a cup, stroll out of bed...but it still seemed like a fog of sleepiness clouded his brain.
"You've been out for eighteen hours and sixteen minutes." Tony hadn't meant to include the minute count, and if it showed how obsessively he'd counted, well, he was a numbers guy.
"Gee, I'm sorry." Bruce rubbed his hand against his neck. "Did I miss anything important?"
"No, but the fight wasn't exactly strenuous," Steve said.
"Well, we can't all age as gracefully as you, Cap," Banner smiled. Steve returned the grin and clarified.
"We were concerned, I mean."
Tony looked between Bruce and Steve, wondering when their dynamic had shift to...casual? Intimate? Had they become friends? That would be good, of course. But it was something Tony would have noticed.
"Have you been feeling ill? Are you fevered?" Thor crossed the room and put a large hand on Banner's forehead. Banner tensed at first, but otherwise bore it with an awkward stoicism.
"No, I--I feel fine now," Bruce said as Thor felt his throat grands. "I do get sick sometimes. The other guy doesn't fight against that. Prevents it, I guess, but if it strikes me, he doesn't fight back." Bruce shrugged. "I'm the one who has to deal with it."
"Eighteen hours is a long time," Natasha said softly. Perhaps Bruce realized how much scrutiny he was under, perhaps he finally felt the intense gaze of ten intense eyeballs. His demeanor shifted, the fog cleared, and he reverted back to his old, familiar self.
"I'm fine. Really." He dared to shrug Thor's hands off his shoulders, most likely a reflexive brushing-off of human (ish) touch.
"Doctor Banner, if there was something wrong, you would tell us, right?" Steve asked.
"Yeah, of course. Ton, you wanna put the finishing touches on the AI units?"
Tony had been so busy observing that he didn't immediately realized he'd been addressed. "What? Oh, yeah, sure. Meet you in the lab in twenty minutes?"
"Sounds good," Bruce said. He raised his cup in mock-cheers and departed.
And that was that. Bruce slept, Bruce was awake, Bruce got human sickness sometimes, he was fine. Tony could feel the tension in the room dissolve as Clint, Natasha, and Thor dispersed. Nothing to see here.
"Really?" Steve asked.
"What?"
"You're gonna tinker with your gadgets?"
"He's the one who suggested it! You heard him!" Tony exclaimed, unsure why Captain America should be on his case. Anyway, Bruce was fine. Everyone had days where they crashed, even Tony. True, it was usually after a week-long bacchanal, but...
Steve shook his head and left.