Work Text:
“Palladium Tony?” a voice demanded over the phone.
“Hi Bruce, how are you?”
“Did you think I wouldn’t find out?”
“It’s been a while since we’ve seen each other. We should hang out sometime.”
“Tony!”
“…Yes?”
“Try to be serious for once.”
Tony sighed. “What do you want to know?”
“Is there a cure?”
“No.”
“Are you positive?”
“Believe me, I’ve tried everything.”
“How long?”
“Six months, give or take.”
Bruce’s next question was posed in a more knowing fashion. “And if you stopped using the suit?”
Tony decided his fellow billionaire knew him entirely too well. “Eight, maybe ten months. How’d you find out anyway?”
“I’ve been keeping tabs on S.H.I.E.L.D.”
“The Strategic Homeland… whatever? What do they have to do with anything?”
“They’ve been keeping tabs on you. One of their scientists ran some tests in order to find out the effects of palladium on the human body. Tests I would have run myself by the way, but didn’t because I thought you were smart enough to take care of yourself.”
“I am smart enough to take care of myself.”
“Then clearly we share the same delusion.”
“What would you have me do?”
Bruce was silent on his end of the line.
“What would you have me do?” Tony repeated. “I can’t take it out. I can’t replace it. I’m dying and there’s nothing I can do about it.” He didn’t sound bitter, but it was a near thing.
“It’s not something you have to go through alone,” Bruce said. “You could’ve called me.”
“I refuse to turn my last six months into a pity-party,” Tony said.
“You know me better than that,” Bruce said. “How does Pepper feel about all this?”
“She doesn’t know.”
“What? Then who have you told?”
“No one, and don’t you dare go spreading it around. If you tell Pepper I’ll hunt you down.”
“I… Fine.”
“Thank you.”
“Is there anything I can do?”
Tony thought about it. “You’re big on the charity thing, right? Donations and all that.”
“It’s what I’m known for.”
“I cannot, for the life of me, decide who I’m going to give my art collection to.”
“Do you have a list?”
“No. I don’t really want to split it up either.”
“I’ll sleep on it.”
“Thanks.”
“Oh, and you were right.”
“About what?”
“We haven’t seen each other in a while.”
“And?”
“I think I should come and visit.”
“You really don’t have to –”
“I hope you’re free this Saturday.”
“Bruce!”
There was no answer. He’d already hung up.
Smart-ass.
Of course he was free Saturday. Tony didn’t know how he did it, but Bruce always seemed to know his schedule.
For a moment he considered making an appointment, just to irk his friend, but dismissed the idea as fast as it had come.
Bruce wasn’t the type to hover. And it might be nice, having someone around who would understand.