The Chase: Chapter 5

Science Bros


It was after one week, three MRIs, a CAT scan, two sleep studies, tests regarding his blood, saliva, and various other bodily excretions,  visits from two world renown neuroscientists, and a West African Shaman known as “Dream Walker” (all paid under the table by a certain billionaire for their silence over Bruce’s “condition”), that Bruce finally spoke.

He had hardly uttered a word since he’d told Tony about his visions, content in sitting quietly off to the side, looking over data, while Tony came up with another dozen tests to run, all with the same results: They could not find anything physically wrong with him, other than a mild concussion caused by the ceiling crashing down on his head.

The pair had still not been able to pin down exactly what they were either, so Tony had decided to stick with calling them “visions”. Not that the name really matters to Bruce, at this point. He just wanted them to stop. But seeing as how there was no physical, scientific explanation for it, and the lack of viable data, finding a cure seemed like a shot in the dark.

Neither of them had been able to induce a vision by synthetic means, giving Bruce the largest amount of drugs the pair deemed medically safe. Although, with his metabolism, they might as well have given him a booster shot for all the good it did. The visions seemed to happen at random, and by the time Tony or one of their assistants could set up any equipment, all that remained were a migraine and one very shaken Bruce Banner.  

Optimistically, there had only been one other incident, apart from the initial blackout in the med labs with Clint, in which the vision appeared to him while he was not already unconscious; although this did little to comfort the scientists.

Tony was busy running erratically throughout the lab, on a mission to find some scientific explanation for what was happening to his best friend, when Bruce finally spoke up.

He had cleared his throat in hopes of subtly gaining Tony’s attention, with little success.  “But, then again, when was anything with Tony ever subtle?” He decided to just come right out and say what had been eating away at him for the past few days.

“Tony, I think we need to stop. We haven’t gotten anywhere with any of this data, and you’re wearing yourself out running around here like this on coffee fumes and bourbon.”

“Aww, come on sourpuss, what kind of an attitude is that? We’re two of the smartest minds on the planet, we can crack this,” Tony quipped.

“Like you cracked the tesseract energy?” Bruce retorted sharply.

Tony frowned, but did not move his eyes from the MRI scan he was looking at. “That was different. This is about you, not some stubborn, mystic energy signature, and I’ll be damned if I’m just going to sit around with my thumb up my ass, albeit wonderfully sculpted ass, and let something happen to you. Look, I know that biology isn’t my strong suit, but I’m still going to try,” he resolved stubbornly.

Bruce sighed and pinched his brow. “But what if there’s no solution, no cure for whatever’s going on, Tony? We don’t even understand what is going on! There might not be some easy, scientific answer here. At least not your kind of science…”

Tony straightened and set down the tablet he’d been looking at, turning to look at Bruce. “What’s that supposed to mean?” he asked accusingly.

“It means that maybe this doesn’t have anything to do with biology, or genetics; this isn’t physics or Shop Class, Tony! The answer has been staring at you, at both of us, smack in the face, but you just don’t want to believe it. Maybe this isn’t something physical! Maybe it’s psychological! What if I’m just crumbling? What If I’m just finally losing it?!” This made Tony stop dead in his tracks.

He stared at the physicist with a deadly seriousness, scans momentarily forgotten and a solemn expression present on his face. “Don’t talk like that, Bruce.”

“Why not? It’s a completely viable theory!” his calm now wavering; his voice was shakier than it’d been in a long time.

“Because we have to be able to fix this!” Tony voice had risen to a shout. He strode across the room to where Bruce was standing, and placed his hand upon the other man’s shoulder, more to comfort himself than anybody. “We’re going to fix you; you’ll be fine.  I mean, I’m Tony friggin’ Stark. I’m Iron Man. I saved Manhattan from a nuclear missile. And I can fix whatever’s happening to you!” His voice lowered, now just over a whisper. “You’re my best friend Bruce, I couldn’t live with myself if anything happened to you, or Pepper, or anybody else living under this roof.” He removed his hand from Bruce’s shoulder, and stepped back. He took in a cleansing breath like Bruce had taught him to, on one of their better weeks.

….

It was about a month ago. Tony had been growing increasingly bored and frustrated, as he had not been having any luck with the energy signature and was currently running it through one of his more complicated programs, so he’d gone upstairs to see what Bruce was working on. It turned out that Bruce had been meditating, as he usually did on Sunday afternoons. Tony’s scientific curiosity flared up inside regarding the whole meditation process, and he stood in the doorway of his friend’s room, not sure if he should disturb him or not.

One eye still closed, Bruce peeked out to see a somewhat awkward-looking Tony standing in his room, and invited him to grab an extra mat and learn some relaxation techniques. Tony was willing to try anything once, and if Bruce could do it, he had to try. The session ended up lasting all evening, with Tony repeatedly face planting into his yoga mat after trying to learn different stress-relieving yoga poses, and Bruce wiping tears from his eyes from laughing so hard at the spectacle.

And although it had left Bruce with a stitch in his side for the rest of the day, and left Tony with a couple of bruises, it had been one of the finer moments in their friendship over the past 6 months, and both Tony and Bruce cherished it, not that either of them would admit it openly.

….

Bruce stopped at hearing the emotion in Tony’s voice. He rarely saw Tony like this, even when he was plastered. And it always tore at him to see this man with such pride and stature lose his composure; to see falter in his strut.

Bruce turned and walked toward the couch and sank into it, resting his elbows on his knees, and placing his now aching head in his hands.

Tony stood there for a moment and sighed. He really was tired; he’d probably only gotten a couple hours decent sleep in the past week, and he had not exactly been well rested before Bruce had dropped his bombshell.

Tony grabbed one of the paper files from the counter as he walked over to the couch, the same one as Bruce. He sat down in a huff, and attempted to look over the senseless data, before throwing the file he had been clutching over his eyes. He leaned back on the couch, all of his fight deflating from his body. Tony glanced over at his best friend, lifting the file slightly in order to see. He made a fist with his other hand and gestured toward Bruce. “Science Bros?” he asked lightly.

Bruce raised his head from his hands and looked over at the billionaire, not sure whether he should give his friend a Psych Eval, or hug him for being so…Tony. He compromised, and bumped his own fist against the billionaire’s, answering with a solemn smile, “Science Bros.”