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Chapter Text

2067

To any passerby, he was just another visitor in a graveyard on a chilled and windy autumn day. There wasn't anything distinct about him as he walked slowly between the tombstones, hands stuffed into his overlarge trench coat – an antique proved not only by style but by the many patches here and there to mend it. To any passerby, he might even be considered a hobo; perhaps he was walking through the graveyard looking for a place to squat.

To the eyes that spied him from a short distance, well hidden, he was a very old man who barely looked a day over forty-five or fifty. And at the moment he was a very lonely man, not wandering aimlessly as a passerby might suspect. His feet were tracing steps like a familiar haunt; it was muscle memory as many years as he had made the journey.

Finally, he stopped in front of a very large monument and his previously neutral countenance betrayed all at once the quiet grief he'd been walking with. His hands smoothed across the stone and his head fell, tears no doubt stinging his eyes.

"I told you not to do this to me," he whispered. "I told you I wasn't strong enough."

"I think you're underestimating yourself, Bob."

He tensed slightly, head rising. "I've told you not to call me that, Logan."

"And I've told you to visit us every once and a while. Lyra—"

At that he spun round quickly. Green flashed in his eyes before they faded into muddy worry. "Is she okay?"

"Relax, Bruce," Logan said in an ironically gruff tone. "Lyra's fine. But she hates feeling like she's lost both of you. She worries."

Bruce sighed and he turned sideways to look at the stone monument again. "She might as well have lost me too," he said ruefully. "I'm only half the man I used to be." He placed a hand on his face and scrubbed slowly. "It's easier to just keep to myself and let Hulk out for as long as he likes." He shrugged a small, pathetic shrug.

"Yeah, I know," Logan remarked. "Hulk visits. You're her dad, Bruce," he confronted. "It's been ten years si—"

"Don't put an expiration date on my loss," Bruce responded with cool anger. "It's only been ten years. Look at me, Logan! You of all people know damn well that this is only the beginning!" The man yelled and then his face broke. He turned back to the monument and leaned his forehead against it, one hand braced open palm on the surface. "There are only two choices. I go on missing him forever or eventually he fades into a memory I can't quite recall beyond a fuzzy dream." Tears streamed down his face. "I'm not strong enough to handle either."

Logan sighed. "No, we're not the lucky ones," he admitted. "But the memories don't fade that easily. I still remember—" He closed his eyes and gritted his teeth. "Well, I remember a lot. And you will too. And, yeah, that makes it tough because you'll go on missing him. But, Bruce," he placed a hand on the taller man's shoulder, "you're not alone. You've still got family, Bruce. You've got me. You've got Jen. Vision, Wanda, Steve, Natasha…  Lyra," he said the last name softly. "She knows how you feel. She's going to go on missing him too." Bruce tensed again and Logan's hand fell. "It's been too long since you've seen her. Just come back with me. Come home."

Bruce didn't move. He didn't respond. There was a long moment of nothing. To any passerby they would just look like two men observing a reverential moment of silence for the hero that was memorialized there. Finally, Bruce looked up into the eyes of the statue that stood on the large monument base: a likeness of Tony Stark in his Iron Man suit sans helmet, which he held in hand at his left hip. 

"Don't make me use the 'Tony wouldn't want this' card," Logan warned him.

Bruce smiled thinly and shook his head as it fell. He turned back to look at the Wolverine. "No need. I was already thinking it." He glanced back up at the statue of his late husband. "Alright, Tony. I'm going home now."

Chapter Text

Present: 2072 A.D.

 "Tony," Bruce mumbles. "Tony, please," he squirms a little and laughs softly. "Mm-Tony, not… Not in front of the—"

Good morning, Dr. Banner.

Bruce is jolted from his sleep at the sound of FRIDAY's peppy greeting. He blinks open his eyes and finds himself alone in the bed he'd once shared with the man he'd been dreaming about. He feels a sharp pang of loneliness in his chest and closes his eyes tight, wishing he could just return to the dream and stay there.

Your family will soon be at breakfast.

He sighs into his pillow. Being back with his family and extended family had done much to make his loneliness more bearable in recent years, and to remind him why his life with Tony had been worth it, but some nights and mornings the bed feels emptier. Some nights and mornings the depression still creeps in for one reason or another.

It's going to be a big day, sir. Would you like for me to have your old tux altered for the occasion?

The reason for this morning's depression is the knowledge that it's the diamond anniversary of that day, that day unlike any other. It's sixty years to the day the Avengers Initiative had been put in play. It's the day he had met the love of his life, a lifetime ago.

"No, thank you, FRIDAY," Bruce finally answers and makes himself get up. Laying there will only make it worse for him. "One of my suits will be fine. I… I don't think I'll wear a tuxedo again," he says brokenly as he scrubs his tired eyes.

I understand, sir.

Even though she's an AI, she probably does. She'd been there through all the long years after he and Tony had transferred JARVIS' sentience into Vision. She'd been there through all the long years he and Tony were together. Not long enough. She's still there now, a piece of Tony's brilliance that haunts him. It's strange though how even after all these years he's grateful that she's not JARVIS. If it were still JARVIS, he thinks it would be unbearable because JARVIS had been such an intrinsic piece of Tony long before Bruce ever came along.

Bruce rids his mind of those thoughts and he certainly doesn't let himself linger on the memory of how Tony looked in a tux or how Tony had adored the way he looked in a tux. Other days he might have the ability to bask in bittersweet reminiscence, but today it would be too dangerous. Today he just needs to get through with his sanity. As he gets up and ready he sincerely contemplates letting Hulk have the day out instead of facing it himself.

Of course, he needs to at least make it through breakfast with his family first. He looks forward to it, after all. And he needs them right now to ease some of the ache. With that in mind he wanders to the large shared kitchen.

There he finds Vision and Wanda already awake and preparing copulas amounts of food. Bruce stands back unannounced for a moment with a thin smile as he watches the strange pair. By right Wanda is nearly eighty in years now, but looks like a mother in the height of her middle-age bloom – and has twin sons in high school as if to prove it. They aren't sure if it's the magic or mutation or both that keeps her vital, but it's because of this that she's a member of the strange family-of-choice they had taken to referring to as the Immortals club: a bunch of heroes who age very slowly or seemingly not at all.

Of course, she also had married Vision and, although Bruce still isn't quite sure how any of it had happened all those years before, Vision had taken to thinking of him and Tony as his metaphorical fathers. Somewhere along the way it had stuck making Vision strangely like his son and Wanda, in turn, like his daughter-in-law so she would have been a member of Bruce's extended family for that reason alone.

"You are welcome to join us at any time, father," Vision says without turning his back, the android's senses too keen for Bruce to evade. "The boys will be happier to have your pancakes than mine."

"That so?" Bruce smiles and moves to join them.

"It is," Wanda answers him with a kiss to his temple. "Morning, dad," she adds. It's still a little hard to believe he'd once thought of snapping the woman's neck, especially when he thinks about how that fateful day in South Africa had ultimately led him to where he is now and to the years of blissful memories he holds.

Suddenly there's a rush of wind. They all turn to see Tommy at the breakfast bar with a much too eager expression for a teenage boy at six-thirty on a Wednesday morning.

"FRIDAY says Gramps is making pancakes," he says just as eagerly in answer to their questioning looks. Bruce chuckles. Likewise, Tommy and his brother Billy, being Vision and Wanda's sons, had always considered him and Tony their paternal grandfathers.

"Dad, you're making pancakes?" Lyra asks as she comes into the room next. She wears a hopeful expression that practically matches Tommy's.

"I guess so," he concedes. He can't very well say no to both of them so he takes Vision's place where he'd been preparing some ingredients for pancakes and starts work on them.

"You realize I make them exactly the same way," Vision says to the room. "He taught me how after all. It's his recipe."

"Your pancakes are good, honey," Wanda reassures him.

"But he just has the magic touch," Lyra states matter-of-factly as she prepares some tea. "That's what dad always said and—" She stops herself short and then mumbles, "Sorry." Bruce ignores the bittersweet clench of his heart and shakes his head.

"For talking about your father? Don't be," he tells her. He then gives her a small smile. "I like hearing you talk about him. You loved him and he loved you. You should talk about him."

There is a long moment of silence. The only movement is from him as he makes the pancakes.

"I hear my cousin is making pancakes," the silence is broken by Jennifer as she joins them. He turns to see her just as she pauses and looks around the room, clearly reading the tension. "Is something wrong?"

"We were talking about Granddad," Tommy supplies.

Jennifer gives an inaudible, "Oh." She then looks at Bruce. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine, honest," he lies. It's not a total lie, he tries to reason. His melancholy has nothing to do with Lyra talking about Tony and he hadn't been lying when he said he likes hearing her talk fondly of the other man responsible for the amazing young – well, she ages strangely like the rest of them – woman she is now.

He returns to making the pancakes, one at a time, enough to feed them and the others still bound to join them so long as FRIDAY is sending word to their little club about pancakes. The others leave the topic be for several long minutes, but eventually Jennifer makes her way over to stand beside him.

"Any jury would see through you in an instant, you know that right?" she says, placing a gentle hand on his arm. "You're not fine."

"I know. It's just," he sighs, "it's been sixty years."

"It has been," Natasha's even voice joins the conversation.

They all turn to see her. Even in casual civvies she looks as ready for battle as ever in spite of the early hour. No matter how many years seem to pass she doesn't seem able to let go of the slight rigidity she possesses, an ever-alertness that has helped keep her alive. The only real difference now, aside from no longer asking him to run away with her he muses, is that she's aged so that she's finally something closer to a middle-aged woman, the off shoot serum she'd been given not as strong as the original. The same is true for Bucky, but they don't talk about it because Steve - though aging - is still far enough behind for Bruce to see the worry in his eyes every now and again. The worry that had been in his own eyes when the years started to catch up to Tony in spite of his husband's best efforts not to leave him.

He pushes those thoughts aside before they can sink their claws into his fragile mood.

"Phil received an email late last night from the president's secretary. She'll be in attendance at tonight's banquet. She has honors to give us on the president's behalf." She seems to roll words around in her mouth like they leave a strange taste in her mouth before saying, "For our continued efforts to protect the Earth."

"Why can't the president do it herself?" Tommy asks with a raised eyebrow.

"Because it's probably best if Madame President doesn't attend an event that has a seventy-eight percent chance of being maliciously interrupted by villains," Lyra reasons with a snort.

"Phil forecasts it at seventy-three," Natasha says with a lilt. "But he always was an optimist. Anyways, thought I'd let you know about the last minute meeting with the secretary before going to headquarters."

"Commander Romanoff should have some breakfast first," Bruce tells her. He raises an eyebrow. "Or did you and Phil eat at the crack of dawn?"

"Middle-of-the-night extraction emergency," Natasha replies. "Phil was called back in around 3. Bastard didn't wake me," she says fondly.

"In that case," Bruce insists, "you're going to sit tight for five minutes while I pack up some breakfast for you both to take with you."

"Hey," Jen says low in Bruce's ear once they all return to lighter subjects and he begins the task of doing just as he'd said he would and putting on a last pancake simultaneously. "I know it's more than just a day. It's been sixty years since you met Tony." Bruce gives pauses, but then gives her a small, sad smile and nod. "Then don't think about the day as reminiscing on what you don't have anymore, Bruce," she urges him and then nods her head. "Today is a day to celebrate all the things you have because this day happened at all."

Bruce follows the direction her head had nodded and takes in the sight of his unusual family. His surrogate son is asking his surrogate grandson if the teen's brother is awake. Apparently the other surrogate grandson had been corresponding with his boyfriend all night. His surrogate daughter-in-law is none too pleased about that. Meanwhile, his biological daughter is complaining about her current doctorate courses at ESU to one of his longest, dearest friends and his cousin, who has always been more like his sister, is still standing beside him.

If he burns the last pancake it's because his heart is overwhelmed by the reminder of how he'd gotten the things he'd wanted after all, even if the picture will never feel quite complete again without Tony in it.

Chapter Text

2015: Approximately 30 Hours Post-Sokovia

Bruce woke up with the feeling of gravel in his mouth. His skin felt like it was on fire, but it was also damp. He opened his eyes and immediately regretted it as the blazing sun was high in the sky, directly overhead and beating down on him mercilessly. He squeezed them shut again and focused on regaining his bearings. He felt the sand beneath his bare arms and realized he was on a beach somewhere. Then he heard the crashing of water as if on rock and the sound of seagulls.

Slowly he sat up and rubbed his eyes. When he opened them again he was greeted by a dirty ocean, no tropical blue waters, and in the distance he could see boats so wherever he was had to be near a population. As his ears tuned into the world around him, he could hear said population nearer than far. Scrambling up to his feet on instinct, he turned quickly to see if he was even alone. His eyes widened immediately, scaling up the cliff side towards the elaborate, newly rebuilt mansion that sat atop it.

"I thought we were running away," he mumbled, confused as to why the Hulk would have brought him here of all places in the world to wake up at.

He sighed deeply and contemplated his choices. His head said to ignore this fluke and make his way to the nearest shelter where he could begin the process of forging a new life: one that wasn't his own but what he made it, one that had nothing to do with monsters and shields and spiders and witches and— His eyes trailed back up the cliff, resignation settling over him with every inch. His heart said to take this as a sign to stop fighting, stop running when things got tough or he screwed something up and go knock on Tony Stark's door. He never was good at ignoring his heart when it came to Tony so he soon found himself doing just that.

As he stood on the doorstep, waiting for an answer that might not come, he knew that he could just let himself in. Tony had given him the security code that would give him access to any of his homes. But he didn't feel welcome to do so with the way they had left things. He and Tony's friendship had been strained over the past few months in a way that had nothing at all to do with a difference of opinion. Ultron was just as much his demon spawn as Tony's and when Tony had called them monsters, implied that they were compatible, it had stirred him to give in then and there despite his reservations; the same couldn't be said for Natasha even if he'd genuinely considered her offer for reasons he still couldn't explain but knew wasn't love. And therein lied the damning proof of what was really the cause of their strain.

"Bruce?" He was torn from his introspection by a familiar voice, one not belonging to Tony. "Is that you?" Before he could answer, two slender arms were thrown around him in a relieved gesture as Pepper hugged him tightly. He awkwardly hugged the woman back, feeling guilty for the small envy that always possessed him whenever he saw her. "Tony said you were missing," she said before breaking the embrace and gesturing for him to come into the mansion.

He entered and then followed her into the living room, eyes darting this way and that at the several boxes that were littered here and there. He stopped cold in his tracks when he was greeted by a large television set to the news, news lamenting the Sokovia fiasco. Pepper must have noticed his reaction because a few seconds later the screen went black and he was able to come back to the moment.

"Thank you," he said genuinely and she gave him an apologetic look.

"Tony told me all about it," she said with a sigh. "Are you okay?"

"No," he replied in earnest. "We nearly destroyed the world, Pepper. Tony and I…" He shook his head. "I don't know what we were thinking."

"So your first reaction was to run away? Leave him to clean up the mess with—" His eyebrows shot up and in contrast her eyes closed tight. "Sorry. I'm… I'm sorry. That's not fair. I know you have more to lose than Tony does if this all comes down on you." Bruce sighed.

"No, it's a fair point," he told her and she opened her eyes slowly. "I got scared and I ran. I left all of them to deal with the fallout without me." A long beat of silence followed that admittance and he used it to study Pepper a little more closely. He had a good feeling her outburst had been driven by more than just anger at him for abandoning his team. "You look exhausted," he said in concern.

"I am," she said wearily and sat down on the couch. She gestured for him to sit as well. He looked to see a few boxes in the remaining seats. "Go ahead and move whatever," she instructed and he carefully did so. "Sorry for the mess. This was moving weekend for me, but I've had to put it off to deal with the press crying for a statement from Tony and Stark Industries not to mention the Board calling for Tony to be cut off entirely from the company."

"Oh no," Bruce said in genuine concern.

"Yes, unfortunately. But it won't go anywhere. They don't have a legal foot to stand on." She paused and looked at him carefully. "And then there's Tony's emotional fallout to deal with too. He's… I'm afraid he's not okay," she said, worrying her lip. "From what he's told me I understand where it's coming from, I do, but…"

"It's Tony?" he supplied when she seemed unable to put her emotions into words.

"It's Tony," she said in a tone that suggested there was no other way to put it. "He never wants to deal with things. He doesn't get the help he needs. Instead he… fixates."

"He does," Bruce agreed and she glanced at him with a strange look he couldn't read. "I guess I'm not in any position to judge. He fixates on things he thinks will fix the problem or make it go away. I figure that's not going to happen so I just run away from the problem altogether."

"There's irony for you," she said with a tired sort of chortle. He furrowed his brow. "He's searching for you, Bruce," she said gently, tilting her head forward.

"He is?" The crease in his brow deepened. "I knew SHIELD would," he said with a sigh.

As he'd made his way up to the mansion, he'd searched his mind for the muddled memories that followed his time as Hulk and had pieced together that Hulk had felt betrayed on their behalf by – maybe feeding off of his already conflicted feelings and guilt and who knows what else – and taken the initiative to actually steal a QuinJet and leave after doing his part in the battle, maybe even after saving Natasha in spite of everything (that memory was fuzzy). Of course, stealing a QuinJet would at least alert SHIELD to his general whereabouts more easily than if he hadn't. So Bruce only had so much time to get scarce if that was the plan. He still wasn't sure.

"No, I mean he's fixated on it," Pepper said, taking him by surprise. "Fixated on you running away."

"Oh," Bruce said, understanding the irony now.

"Every other text for the past twelve hours has been about trying to find you, asking me if I think you're okay, giving me instructions on how to help him. It's..." She gave an amused, albeit pathetic sounding, snort and shook her head. "Bruce, he's not going to rest until he finds you. He's already set up a bank account solely for funding the search."

"Why?" Bruce blinked. "I don't understand—"

"Bruce," she admonished before he could finish. "I care about you and I'm happy you're safe, but I won't sit here and listen to you try and convince me you have absolutely no clue why Tony would do anything within his power to get you back."

"I…" He scrubbed his face. He was just as tired as she was and didn't want to analyze his own feelings that Tony never helped with his intense friendship. "Okay. Well, tell him to call off the search. I don't know if I'm ready to face SHIELD, but tell him he doesn't need to waste his money."

"If I do that, you know he'll come," she warned him, perceptive as ever. "And if you run before he does, he'll start searching again."

"I know," he said with a sigh, looking around the room at nothing in particular. "I'll stay. I'll talk to him. But tell him not to let any of the others come with him. I'm just… not ready for certain conversations yet." She studied him carefully and then nodded. His eyes had landed on one of the moving boxes and he furrowed his brow again. He glanced back at her to see her already on her phone, typing a message to Tony no doubt. "So, are you moving to New York?" he asked if only to change the subject.

Tony had mentioned maybe moving back into his family home to be closer to the Avengers headquarter, but also to distance himself a little from actually living full time in the tower. After the last year they'd all had in close proximity, Bruce agreed that might be for the best. Also, it would be an incentive for Pepper to finally join him again. Sharing quarters with a team of superheroes probably wasn't her domestic ideal.

"Uh, no," she said, not looking up. "Moving to a condo closer to work. Even with a driver the commute is starting to take its toll." She looked up with a small smile as if amused by her confession, but it fell. "What?"

"Um…" He wasn't sure if he should say anything. "Nothing. I was—"

"Oh. Oh no," she said shaking her head. She suddenly looked torn between fondly exasperated and plain upset. "Don't tell my he didn't tell you. I mean, maybe I shouldn't be surprised, but he didn't tell you?"

"I—" He squeaked and fumbled like an idiot.

"I take back my previous accusation," Pepper said with a sigh, although Bruce really wasn't sure what she was referring to. She then fixed him with a steady gaze. "Tony and I aren't together anymore."

"What? What are you talking about?" Bruce tried to think back to how Tony had been acting, if there were any signs beyond his usual antics. There was the fixation on Ultron and he still talked of Pepper as if they were still together… up until… "How… How long? Recent?"

"Well," she glanced down at her phone, "we were on a break for almost six months, had a few dates during that time, before it became clear the break should probably be a break up. That was—"

"About a month ago?" He winced as he posed the question.

"Yes," Pepper said, standing to her feet and crossing the small space between them. "So you can see why I'm exhausted. Even if I had time to sleep," she sighed and pointed toward the blank television, "that would keep me awake wondering if I didn't somehow inadvertently cause all this."

"Pepper, you know you didn't," Bruce said calmly as he looked up at her. She nodded at him to follow her so he stood to his feet and did. "He might have been a little more… out of sorts," he'd seemed a little lonelier than usual and just a little off like he was afraid everything would fall apart around him, "but he didn't have to fixate on Ultron specifically. That was just as much scientific inquiry as anything. And you didn't break up with me so what was my excuse?" he tried with a joking laugh.

"Did Tony ask you or did you volunteer?" Pepper glanced sideways at him with an arched brow just as they moved into a bedroom.

"I—" Bruce fumbled and then stopped in his tracks when he realized this had to be Tony's bedroom.

"Then that's your excuse," Pepper said with a knowing glance in his direction before disappearing into a closet. "Don't misunderstand me, Bruce," her voice trailed back, pitched so he could hear. "The break up was inevitable. And I'm still certain he wanted it as much as I did even if he has a hard time with handling these things." She returned then with a clean outfit in hand. "But the timing could have maybe been better. Now I have to wonder if even a little part of him was using it to distract himself from the messy emotions that go along with this sort of thing."

"Well, if I know Tony," Bruce gave a gentle shrug as he tentatively took the outfit offered to him, "he'd probably feel even guiltier if he knew you felt that way."

"And you do know Tony," Pepper said with a small nod and soft smile. She then furrowed her brow slightly. "But he really didn't tell you about us?"

"No," Bruce said with an earnest shoulder hitch and head shake. "In fact, we… or I at least, was under the impression you two were fine. Well, okay, maybe not fine," he confessed. "I sensed a little strain, but I assumed that was the distance and conflicting schedules. In retrospect I get now why he ignored my advice that he should stop focusing on the team and make more time for you…" He pursed his lips as he recalled it. "But when asked he talked like you were still together." He winced. "Okay, in retrospect he might have been trying a little too hard to make it seem like you were still together."

"Oh, Tony," she said with a sigh as her head fell backwards. Then she shook it and looked back at him. "If you want to clean up you can either use the guest bathroom or Tony's. He wouldn't mind. And are you hungry? I remember Tony saying you're usually famished after an incident. I can have JAR—" She bit her lip. "I can have FRIDAY order some food."

"You don't have to," Bruce hedged, "but if it's not too much trouble that would be great. Thank you, Pepper."

"Not a problem," she said with a thin smile and then moved past him toward the door. "Bruce," she then said and he turned to see her stopped just in the doorway. She turned slowly to look at him with a curious expression. "If you didn't want to be found, why did you come here?"

"I… didn't," he admitted. "Hulk did. I woke up on the beach."

"Oh." She seemed to consider his answer, but if she had anything else to say about it she kept it to herself and left him to clean up.