Tony's tread is brisk until he comes to the doorway. Once there he stops abruptly and tells J.A.R.V.I.S. to call off the lockdown. The doors open with a heavy metallic grind and Tony thrusts himself out into the hallway. A little Roomba-esque robot cleans up the evidence of his cowardice as Tony walks by. For some reason, this is the image that sticks in Tony's mind as he walks, the little round machine and the faint scrubbing noise it was making replays over and over in his head as he walks. By the time he finds his way to his room he doesn't even want a shot of bourbon. He grips the bottle, trudges over, and lays face down in the middle of his bed. His body aches all over but he can't bear to move so he just stays there. At some point he must have fallen asleep. He pulls his eyelids open with difficulty and finds that his eyes had crusted shut in the night. He is still wearing his rumpled clothing from the night before and the bottle that he'd gripped so tightly is jammed uncomfortably under his leg.

"What time is it, J.A.R.V.I.S.?" says Tony.

"It is approximately 3:13 p.m., sir." J.A.R.V.I.S. responds.

"And where is he?"

"Bruce is in his quarters, sir. He requested breakfast so I took the liberty of having that delivered to him." J.A.R.V.I.S. proves his mettle by responding not only with the information requested, but desired.

Tony kicks his shoes off over the edge of the bed, then rolls up and off to take a shower. He stumbles into his lavish bathroom and strips down to allow his shower a chance to try and scrub the guilt off of him.

For his part, Bruce has been busy. He woke in his bed, dressed in pajamas with an unofficial likeness of Hulk's face printed all over the bottoms and a t-shirt with the words "The Incredible Hulk" printed across the front. For some reason, the pajamas made a lump appear in his throat and he had yet to sort out why. Instead, Bruce got to work with renewed vigor on his formula. It came to him rather suddenly that antibodies could be built up to this virus in much the same way that smallpox was originally staved off, by exposure to a similar but non-deadly virus. All that was left to do was to create such a virus. This could be left up to the lab team. He is so wrapped up in his work that he feels he shouldn't leave it and asks J.A.R.V.I.S. to have someone bring by some sort of breakfast. He is delighted to find that what is brought to him looks like the "balanced breakfast" from a cereal commercial. He makes short work of the meal though he does find himself smearing grease on his notes. He is so intensely focused on his work that when, hours later J.A.R.V.I.S. speaks to him, he is so startled that green rises to the surface unbidden.

"I hate to disturb you, but it has come to my attention that the presence of Master Stark and yourself is being requested by S.H.E.I.L.D. It would appear that there was a small group of Chitauri that were left stranded on Earth. They have taken over a small town in rural New York. Avengers assistance is requested in dealing with this situation, as they appear to have had enough time to repair their weaponry and have proven intelligent enough to take hostages."

Bruce leaves his apartment without even stopping for a pair of shoes. He simply walks to the nearest exit and is picked up by waiting S.H.E.I.L.D. agents who usher him onto a waiting helicopter. Neither of the field agents comment on his state of dress or lack of shoes. Bruce seats himself and concentrates on the crosshatch pattern of the metal on his bare feet. He imagines the cold of the steel radiating upwards into his body. It actually surprises him to see Tony, who catches up the transport chopper mid-flight and swings open the escape hatch with slightly too much force, bending the metal hinges and causing the door to sit unevenly when he closes it.

Tony intends to speak with Bruce, finally, to try and smooth things out with him. He walks over towards him and can't help but smile when he realizes that J.A.R.V.I.S. actually did follow his Hulk protocol and dress Bruce in friendly Hulk pajamas. Tony opens his visor to speak.

"Hey"

Bruce nods in acknowledgment.

"About last night, I-" Tony starts, but Maria Hill's voice cuts in over the intercom.

"We're going to do the drop now. Are you ready, Dr. Banner?"

"I am." He says quietly.

Bruce stands and moves to the center of the drop hatch under his feet. Bruce smiles to himself, baring his teeth like a snarling dog. A chill runs down Tony's spine and he's not sure why. Bruce turns to face Tony, tips his nose at him, and juts out his chin in grim preparedness. Tony watches fascinated as Bruce rearranges. Even though the transformation takes a matter of seconds, Tony's mind notes everything in high detail, causing time to slow to a crawl as he watches the change take place. Bruce's body shifts, his bones thicken and lengthen, his skin shines green and in that instant between beings it takes on a deathly shade. Everything about his body grows encasing Banner like a great green sarcophagus, protected for his journey into a dangerous unknown world. Tony felt, as he had immediately upon witnessing the transformation for the first time, that he had witnessed a miracle, scientifically possible or not. The hatch opens just as Banner might have become too big to fit through it.

Bruce wakes up completely naked and surrounded by piles of rubble. He can see flashes of color, Steve's stars and stripes, Natasha's hair as they walk off to help with cleanup. Someone has thoughtfully placed a folded blanket next to his feet. He wraps it around himself and sits on the edge of a cinderblock wall, smashed low no doubt by his own giant fist. He watches the movement around him blearily, trying to pick out the memories from his swimming thoughts.

With a whoosh of afterburners Iron Man lands next to Bruce and sits beside him on the wall. The visor lifts up to reveal a grinning Tony Stark.

"That went well!" Tony says brightly. "I probably could have taken them all out with my palm cannons but you definitely sped things up, Dr. Banner. I mean, I guess Big Green did. Same difference?" Tony is almost talking to himself.

Bruce turns his ear towards Tony, but otherwise doesn't move. "Yes and no. "He laughs, a shallow sound, turns his head, and coughs into his crooked elbow.

Stark pauses, watching Bruce carefully, realizing that he has already been a bit too friendly given the nature of what happened between the night before.

"I have to say, I think there's more you present when he's loose than you've admitted." Tony presses.

"Well, of course there is, as long as I've had enough time to get myself there. When we're in agreement-" Bruce looks up sharply, focusing finally on Tony's face and doesn't finish the sentence. He pulls the blanket tighter around his body and notes with a detached disgust that it is made of wool and it is scratching his skin.

"I'm a little more present than I'd readily admit, Tony. Apology accepted, by both of us." Bruce sighs and the way the fading light catches the circles under his eyes gives Tony the impression that life gave Dr. Banner a pair of black eyes.

"That's my secret. The real secret. Because the other caveat with that secret is that I enjoy it." Bruce murmured.

"What?" Tony said and squeezed Bruce's shoulder. Bruce's muscles tense and he inhales a deep breath before he continues.

"It's terrifying to lose it, it really is," he pauses, "but there's a part of me that likes it. Sometimes I want to punish people. Sometimes I just want to slip under and let the Other Guy take it all on, let him be in control. I hate myself for it. I have to always be hyper-vigilant but there are times when I welcome him. I like it, I like the power coursing through me. I don't have any control, but at the same time it feels like I have total control. It's a fucked-up power fantasy. Lose your shit and be totally unaccountable for what happens." His voice rises and Tony isn't sure what he can even say.

All Mr. Mile-a-Minute Mouth can manage is:

"I see." His voice is flat. This is beyond Tony's depth.

"And sometimes, sometimes I don't feel guilty about what he did. What I did. Sometimes I think they deserved it. Then he and I are in agreement for about half a second until the guilt washes over me. I force myself to feel guilty sometimes. Because what does that make me if I don't feel guilty? Then he and I are one and the same. We're the same entity really. It's not Bruce and The Hulk, it's just Bruce. On some level, that's really how it is. Those instances when the green creeps across my skin and I give in, they're a release. It's euphoria. And I'm ashamed." Bruce lowers his head and slumps his body away from Tony. Tony allows his fingers to rake across Bruce's back, then he pulls his hand away and clenches his fist.

"Do you mean to tell me that you enjoy it?! Is that what you're saying? You get off on it?" Tony's voice raises and he leans in so that Bruce has to look him in the eye. Bruce looks away at first. Then, he holds Tony's gaze and nods in the affirmative just once and watches for his reaction, ready to bolt.

"Good; excellent even. Hell, I'm glad to hear it!" Tony says and takes Bruce's hand.

"What?" Bruce sputters.

"I'm glad to hear it. I'd be worried if you didn't feel that way at least on some level. I'm pretty sure everybody wishes they could just beat the shit out of their problems every once in a while. I have. I built a suit so I could do just that."

"But what does-" Bruce manages before Tony cuts him off.

"I said I'd spent countless hours "privatizing world peace" when really I just built a suit so I could do whatever the hell I wanted. We all want to be so big that nothing can ever hurt us again. I would hope that the one person in the world who can literally turn into an embodiment of rage gets a kick out of it.

I would." Tony doesn't stop to think if this is the right thing to say. He just does what he always does and plows ahead.

" You should never EVER feel ashamed of that." He leans in and hugs Bruce tightly. The blanket is just enough between them to keep the soot and heat away from Bruce's skin.

Silent tears run down Bruce's face as he puts his arms around Tony as well. He awkwardly claps the back of Tony's suit and tries to keep his emotions in check. As the cleanup crews arrive to try and stem the damage, a man who could never rely on anybody but himself finally accepts that he has a friend.

(Thank you for sticking with me long enough to read all of this, my apologies for the crazy-long hiatus. I actually wrote an early version of this chapter first, though I tried to go back and make it mesh with the way the characters developed in my writing. This was my first ever fanfiction, and I'm unreasonably pleased to have finished it. It's pretty late here, and I made it my goal to finish it tonight or risk not finishing it at all, so I may go back in the next couple of days to tinker with details. I hope you enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it even though there wasn't any smut involved.)