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Bruce walks out of the bathroom, still drying his face off with a towel and letting the ache in his bones spread over him. He's too tired to fight it. He's too tired to care. He just wants to fall face down on the bed and not get up. He only notices Thor when he happens to glance at the doorway.
"Thor," he says. The towel nearly falls, but Bruce recovers, somehow, and grabs it again. "You... You're back."
His hair is wet, falling over his face a bit, like he jumped into a pool or something. There's a few feet between them, but Bruce can still smell the ozone. He can still see the blue of his eyes, the way the grey sweats and sweater Thor's now wearing don't leave much to the imagination, the furrow in his brow as he softly says, "Barton said you were here."
Bruce turns to put the towel away. "Yeah, here I am," he mumbles. He can hear Thor's footsteps behind him somewhere, the quiet metallic thunk of mjölnir being set down. Silence. Eventually, Bruce turns, walking around him to grab the robe. He doesn't look at him.
"Bruce-"
"How are you?" It's a weak deflection. Bruce knows that Thor sees right through him. He'd wince if he wasn't so tired. If he wasn't so defeated.
"...Alright," says Thor, slowly, neutral. Bruce understands, though. "I'm... I'm alright. How are...?"
Bruce focuses on tying his belt and says, "I'm fine," which is possibly one of the dumbest lies he's ever told. It's punctuated by Thor stepping closer behind him. Bruce finishes the knot, but he doesn't turn around.
They stand like that, Bruce staring at the wall and ignoring the way Thor's stare burns against his back. The stand-off lasts a good five seconds before Bruce breaks. "You saw what happened. Don't pretend."
A pause. "Bruce, you... He was only scared-"
"Would you stop trying to be his advocate."
"I'm being empathetic," counters Thor, voice going from that excruciatingly careful tone to frustrated. They've had this argument before. It's familiar and Bruce hates it, but he'd rather fall into that than actually talking about this. "I know you, both of you, and none of us were in our right minds. The witch-"
"That's not an excuse!" Bruce finally turns, looking Thor in the eyes, and the shock there makes him regret it immediately. Bruce doesn't take it back. Thor needs to understand. "She messed with our heads, but that doesn't excuse what we did. Ultron, Johannesburg, everyone who's gotten hurt, who's about to get hurt... It's because of me, one way or another. No matter how hard I try to be a hero, I'm always just-"
"Don't say that," says Thor. He finally closes the distance between them and grabs Bruce's arms. His eyes are so open that it hurts. "I know what you're about to say, don't you dare."
Bruce clenches his jaw. "Tell me I'm wrong."
Thor looks right back at him. "You're wrong. You're a good man. I won't stop saying that until you know it's true." They're close enough that his hair tickles Bruce's cheek. He can feel his breath. He's so fucking honest. Bruce wants to keep arguing.
He's also so, so, so tired.
They stare at each other until Bruce's shoulders just... slump. He loosens his fists, unclenches his jaw, and Thor lets his hands trail down till they're holding Bruce's wrists. Bruce can't- "What are you doing?" he asks, quietly, even though he knows exactly what they're doing. He's just tired of fighting.
Thor shakes his head, eyes blue and sad. "We should rest." He doesn't answer the question; instead, he takes Bruce's hand, and Bruce lets himself be lead to bed.
They make themselves comfortable - laying on their sides, facing each other, Bruce running his fingers through Thor's hair, Thor's hand on Bruce's waist - and don't speak for a while. It does nothing to quell the demons in Bruce's head, but it's a nice distraction, and he'd be lying if laying down with Thor wasn't a comfort to him. Thor's been comforting him with his presence since they started... whatever this is. They haven't called it anything. They talk a lot, but not about this. Bruce is more than a little afraid to. Simple touches, laying together like this, talking about each other and not them... It's good. It's what he needs.
But Thor is still tense, looking at Bruce like he's not all there, and Bruce knows Thor needs him, too. He's not sure what to say, though.
Thor beats him to it. "I know monsters. I've fought them all my life." The hand not on Bruce's waist squeezes his hand tightly. "You're not one of them."
Bruce knows that Thor is deflecting again, but he goes along with it. He huffs and cups Thor's cheek. "Where in the world am I not a threat?"
"You're not a threat here," he murmurs. "Not to me. You're the one thing-" He shuts his mouth, swallows, and doesn't finish. The hand on Bruce's waist spasms a little.
There it is.
"Thor... Where did you go? What happened?"
Thor hesitates. His eyes are very, very blue. "I... The vision I had, it was... It was more than just a trick. It was an omen. I had to go find out more. And I did." He swallows. "But, if I'm right, we have more to worry about than Ultron." His voice is grave and scared.
Bruce knows he's right, somehow, and doesn't know what to do. "I'm sorry." He just stroke's Thor's jaw. "What do you need?" he asks, softly.
Thor shuts his eyes and shuffles closer, letting go of Bruce's hand to wrap his arms around him. "This is enough."
"...Okay." Bruce does the same.
They lay like that for a long time.