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Tony frowned the moment the music suddenly stopped. Before he could complain, though, JARVIS spoke.
"You have an incoming call from Mr. Wayne, sir."
He lifted his head and had to blink a couple of times before his gritty eyes adjusted to the change, even as his face continued to be illuminated by the soft blue glow coming from the holographic screen he had been working on. Now, that was a surprise. He and Bruce spoke just yesterday, so this was unexpected. Was it yesterday? Maybe it was already two days ago.
"What time is it, buddy?"
"It is a quarter to three, sir."
Huh. So, it was two days after all. Tony started to stretch when his back popped, making him squeeze his eyes shut with an almost obscene groan. God fucking dammit. How long had he been here? He was starting to think he needed to listen to Bruce and get a stupid ergonomic chair like the old man he apparently was.
"Sir?" JARVIS politely prompted.
"Yeah, yeah." Tony got to his feet with another groan and walked to the little kitchenette to put on some coffee. He was going to need it. "Patch him through."
"Tony?"
"Hey, Brucie. Just coming in from kicking some ass?" He leaned against the counter as the machine did its thing. "A little early, isn't it?"
"Not exactly. Today was a Bruce Wayne day. Alfred's orders," Bruce added with a sigh. He leaned back in his chair and stared at the monitor screens before him. He was down in the cave and had been for a few hours now, even if he wasn't getting any work done.
Tony furrowed his brow. There was something off about Bruce's voice, but he couldn't put his finger on what exactly. "Okaaa-y. You know, it's never going to stop being weird to hear you talk about yourself in the third person, just so we're clear here."
Bruce felt the corner of his lip twitch minutely. "What are you working on?"
"Yeah, we're not doing that thing again," Tony replied, going along with Bruce's diversion for the time being.
It was Bruce's turn to frown. "What thing?"
"The thing where I make the mistake of mentioning the amazingly brilliant, world-fucking-changing projects I'm working on and you blatantly steal them and give them to your R&D kids to play with." Tony was only a tiny bit annoyed by the whole thing, really, but he was never going to let Bruce forget it.
He let out a long-suffering sigh. "It happened once, Tony, and even that's a stretch because we both know you don't have an absolute claim to the nanotechnology field."
"Doesn't matter. Let's just make sure it doesn't happen again." Tony enjoyed a sip from his freshly made hot espresso and then took the cup with him as he moved to the sofa. "So, you went out to some dull charity thing, or something just as boring, and are just coming back? Should I be worried, dear?"
Bruce tilted his head back and closed his eyes. He had to remind himself this was the reason for the call and forced himself to answer. "You know the answer to that. And I went to the circus tonight. Haly's circus."
Tony blinked, fingers still wrapped around the warm cup as he tried to make sense of the odd emphasis Bruce put on the circus' name. As if that was such an important detail. "Alright. So, on your super rare day off, you went and saw clowns? Cree-py."
"There's more to a circus than clowns, Tony."
"I'll take your word for it, since I've never been to one. So, what? You went to see the elephants and stuff?"
"Acrobats," Bruce got out through an increasingly tight throat.
The single word gave Tony pause for a moment. He wondered if he should have JARVIS looking this shit up. "Hmm, I'm going to pretend that tells me what you obviously think it does."
"The Flying Graysons," Bruce continued as if Tony hadn't spoken, his voice distant as he recited the words. "The main attraction of Haly's Circus, and one of the best trapeze artists in the world. They are quite famous for performing without a safety net."
Tony sighed, giving up trying to keep a mostly coherent conversation going. This seemed to be one of those times when you needed to listen to every single word Bruce emitted to try and piece together what the man was really saying. It was damn frustrating and required Tony to be more awake and alert than he was. He took a longer drink of his coffee.
"So, I guess you saw a pretty neat show then, huh? World-renowned performers and all."
The terrible image of a pair of broken and lifeless bodies flashed before Bruce's eyes, making him squeeze them shut. "No. No, I didn't. There was a murder."
Well, that took a turn. But this was Gotham, so what the fuck did Tony expect? That Bruce was calling to tell him he had fallen in love with the circus, and he was joining now?
Bruce didn't usually share graphic details about his cases. This time, though, Tony had no doubt he was about to hear something awful. He wasn't squeamish exactly, but Tony still put his mug on the table and braced himself for whatever he was going to hear. Again, this was Gotham.
"That sounds like a job for the Bat, then," Tony commented for lack of something else to say. "Wait! Please tell me your friend the clown had nothing to do with whatever the hell you're talking about."
The unexpected words were enough to distract Bruce. "The Joker is locked up in Arkham."
"Well, that's a first." Tony knew it wasn't the time, but he couldn't keep the words in. The revolving door that Gotham called Arkham was a fucking joke. "What happened?"
"I'm not sure yet," Bruce admitted, glaring at the monitor before him.
He had let his emotions get the better of him at that crucial moment, and he ignored the opportunity to study the scene immediately after the incident. Bruce was forced to return once the police had finished processing the scene, hoping that everyone had done their job correctly and nobody had tampered with evidence or destroyed it.
"I believe the rope used in the act was tampered with, resulting in two of the acrobats falling to their deaths."
"Ouch. That must have been quite the fall."
"It was a family act," Bruce added. "A couple and their son."
Tony grimaced. You went to see a fun show and ended up being handed a couple of dead bodies instead. No wonder Bruce was a bit of a mess right now. He may be used to violence and death by now, but this didn't happen to Batman. It happened to Bruce. And there Tony went, thinking about them as different people. But the truth was, being Batman required a very specific mindset, and Bruce hadn't been in it when he witnessed what happened.
"Did the kid—"
"No. He's alive. He—he was there. He was on the platform, ready to join in the act when his parents fell." Bruce bowed his head and closed his eyes as he heard the boy's terrifying scream echo in his head. He didn't think he would ever be able to forget that sound, or the image of the small, dark-haired boy weeping as he knelt between the broken bodies of his parents in the middle of the ring, the bright lights framing the gruesome scene.
The image suddenly changed, replaced by a painfully familiar one. Bruce recognized himself in the place of the boy, kneeling between the bodies of his own parents in the middle of a dark and dirty alley, his trousers damp with blood.
Tony found himself at a loss for words. The incident was a terrible thing by itself, but the thought of Bruce having to witness such a familiar tragedy made Tony ache for him. He couldn't even begin to imagine what Bruce felt at that moment or what he was feeling now that he had the time to actually think about what happened. Jesus fucking Christ! Things like that could only happen to Bruce-I'm fucking Batman-Wayne on his fucking day off. No wonder Bruce had called him—except Tony was honest to god awful at the comfort crap. The best thing he could do to avoid saying anything insensitive and awful was to not say anything at all, so he did just that.
"He looked so small standing there. He couldn't have been older than ten." Bruce shook his head in an attempt to clear the image from his mind. It didn't work. "Dick. That's what the people in the circus called him."
Any other time, Tony would have made a teasing remark about the poor boy's unfortunate nickname. Now, the thought didn't even cross his mind.
"CPS took him. They—he just lost his parents, and they took him away from the only family he has left, just because they aren't related by blood," he spat the words. Bruce still remembered the snatches of conversation he overheard all those years ago in the police station as they discussed whether Alfred should be allowed to take him home or not. He was just the butler. He wasn't family.
"They took him away from the people who love him just so they can put him in some overfilled foster home or orphanage." The boy hadn't been in the right state to put up much of a fight, but the people from the circus had. With their bright costumes and teary faces, they had argued and fought to keep Dick with them, only to have him slip through their fingers. It had been a heartbreaking sight. "They are the only family he has left, and he may never see them again."
The raw pain Tony could hear in Bruce's voice made him wish he could do more than just listen. He knew that whatever words he could say to fill the silence would be useless, so he waited. He waited and he listened, because that was all he could do right now. Fuck, Tony wished he could at least be there with him. They could at least get plastered together.
"He will probably stay in the system until he's old enough to be kicked out, because who would want to adopt a boy of his age and background?"
"Maybe you should consider adopting him, then."
Bruce tightened his grip on the phone. He hadn't expected to have his own thoughts voiced by Tony, even if he was mostly teasing him right now.
The silence Tony received in answer was a surprise, except it really wasn't. In fact, he was more surprised by his own lack of surprise than by the prospect of Bruce being willing to go that far to help some unfortunate kid. Bruce had always been a big softy on the inside, and Tony always knew that.
Bruce never had problems dealing with other kids when he was young, and he was better at it now that he was an adult. Tony still remembered the easy way Bruce had interacted with a little boy whose parents had dragged him to the annual Wayne Christmas party a couple of years back, only to leave him alone in the middle of a room full of strange people, the assholes. He had seen Bruce talking quietly to the kid for a couple of minutes from across the ballroom and kept on looking as Bruce had guided him away from the crowded room. It had taken Bruce a while to return to his own party.
"You already are, aren't you?" He didn't wait for an answer. "Okay, then. Call me back once you've got him in the Manor, so I can swing by. He needs to meet his fun uncle Tony."
"That's all you have to say about it? We are talking about a child, Tony, not a pet."
"Of course you are. There's no way Alfred would ever let you have a pet. He's got enough shit to deal with thanks to your little bat infestation downstairs."
Bruce had to resist the urge to snap at Tony to get fucking serious and stop joking around. It wasn't Tony's fault he was in this mess.
"We really need to get you a sense of humor, Brucie-bear," he teased, breaking the tense silence. "You called to hear my opinion? Fine! My opinion is you should go ahead and take the kid in. It's not like you can't spare one of the thirty bedrooms in your gigantic mansion for him. It would even be good for you, having someone other than Alfred around."
"This isn't about me," Bruce countered once he got past the initial shock of Tony's encouragement. Should he be worried that Tony was apparently on board with this? "This is about a small grieving boy who is going to need more than a roof over his head and whatever I could possibly buy for him."
'And when has anything ever been about you?' Tony didn't voice the question. Bruce was right, this wasn't about him. He thought about all the things that would change if Bruce decided to go ahead with this. For better or worse, that kid would be a permanent fixture in Tony's life as well for as long as he and Bruce maintained any kind of relationship.
It was a daunting prospect, but Tony couldn't find it in himself to back down or try to talk Bruce out of it.
"Okay, but the fact that you acknowledge his needs go beyond that is actually a point in your favor. Since, you know, a lot of parents can't seem to figure out that much by themselves." Tony hesitated for a second before continuing. "It sure as hell would have been nice if my parents figured out that throwing money at their son and hiring more staff wasn't parenting."
"That's—it's not the same," Bruce replied awkwardly. "I—What do I even know about taking care of a child, Tony? He needs someone who actually knows what they are doing."
"I don't know. From what you said before, it sounds like he may not have that option anyway." Tony leaned back on the couch and looked up at the ceiling. They really were doing this, weren't they? "Besides, you're not alone. You have Alfred."
Alfred. Yet another variable to consider, rather than the answer Tony obviously thought it was. Bruce hadn't spoken to him about this, not yet. He was almost afraid to witness Alfred's reaction.
"I can't expect Alfred to take care of a child just because I ask him to."
"But he would help," Tony pointed out. "If you told Alfie what you just told me, there's no way he's gonna say no."
"What if he should?" Bruce asked suddenly. "What if this is a mistake? What if I want to do this just because he reminds me of myself? What if he doesn't really need me?"
"Woah, woah, woah. It's just three in the morning, sweet cheeks, so why don't we just calm down a little?" Tony suggested, head still reeling from all those questions. Did Bruce really expect answers, or did he only need to get it out? Tony really hoped it was the latter. "Look, I don't know what the right answer is here any more than you do, okay? There are probably dozens of reasons why you shouldn't do it, but I bet there are also a lot of reasons why you should."
Bruce was silent for a moment. "You don't think I'm crazy for even considering it."
"I can't say this was something I expected to hear when JARVIS first told me you were calling," Tony commented because, well, facts. "But I think we can agree you've had crazier ideas before."
Honestly, Tony didn't think anything Bruce could say or do would ever top the whole Batman thing. That shit was batshit crazy. Pun very much intended.
"I don't know what this is," Bruce muttered as he rubbed a hand across his face. "I want to help him, I do, but I'm afraid anything I do will only make things worse."
"Um. The kid just saw his parents die, you know," Tony said bluntly. "I doubt anything you can do will ever be worse than that."
Bruce tipped his head back and closed his eyes. Tony was right, of course.
Tony cradled his face in his hands. He fucking hated being the rational one in this relationship. It was a pretty low bar because, well, they were who they were, but Bruce usually assumed the role with no problem. Tony could count on one hand the number of times he had to act like a mostly sane adult in all the years they had known each other.
"Look. You don't have to make any decisions right now, okay? So, why don't you sleep on it? Maybe talk to Alfred or someone responsible and shit," Tony suggested in a sudden bout of inspiration. "You could maybe see how the kid is doing or even get to know him if you can before committing to anything."
Bruce opened his mouth to reply but had to close it again when the words didn't come. He exhaled softly. It all sounded so simple and logical when Tony put it like that. So, why hadn't it occurred to him? Of course, he needed to talk to Alfred before making any decision. And he also had to consider Dick's condition and how things developed with him.
"Who are you, and what did you do with Tony Stark?" He questioned in a dry tone after a moment of silence.
Tony's whole body loosened up the moment he heard the words. He sank into the plush couch as he closed his eyes. Thank fuck things were righting themselves. Finally.
"Fuck you," he shot back good-naturedly. "Someone has to take the wheel while you're losing your shit over there, Brucie."
Bruce huffed a quiet laugh. Tony was right once again, and Bruce appreciated his intervention more than he could say. He wasn't sure what he had expected when he made the decision to call him, but he was glad he did.
"You good now?"
The corner of Bruce's lips twitched upward. "I suppose I am."
"So, you're actually getting some sleep now instead of going down the deep end again as soon as we end the call?"
"I don't think I will be able to sleep."
That was not a surprise, even if Bruce would have been hard-pressed to admit that at any other time. "You could take one of those wonder pills Alfred slips you when you're being a stubborn idiot."
"Maybe," Bruce replied easily. "What about you? You should get some sleep, too."
"Hmm. I think I'm gonna crash right here." Tony turned to lie down as he said the words. He groaned softly the moment he was finally horizontal and closed his eyes.
"You have a perfectly good bed upstairs," Bruce reminded him pointedly.
"Yes. And I have a perfectly good couch right here, which I'm already on, thank you very much."
"Point taken." Bruce took one more look at the monitors before him before standing and moving in the direction of the inviting little cot set up in a corner.
"You still there?" Tony questioned, not bothering to open his eyes again.
"I'm here. I'm just getting comfortable."
"Hmm. Interesting. Tell me more."
Bruce rolled his eyes. "I thought we were getting some rest."
"We can do both."
"Shut up, Tony," Bruce murmured, eyelids already growing heavy. His heart was still in tumult, but at least his head had slowed down a little. Even if he doesn't fall asleep now, he may still be able to get some rest.
"Hey, B?" Tony waited patiently, but there was no response. "I can't believe—it's super rude to leave someone hanging like this, you know. Asshole," he added in an almost affectionate tone.
He knew he should ask JARVIS to end the call, but Tony was fast asleep before he gave the command.