thecapitol | Well, it wasn't going to last forever...

Topher kept well away from Tony and Bruce when they hunkered down for another tense night. It wasn't that he wasn't grateful for the rescue, he was simply tired. Tired of running and hiding. Tired of being in constant pain and fear for all their lives. He was constantly scratching at wounds that were too slow to heal even as he avoided even mentioning them. Avoidance and Topher were friends with a long history of avoiding the horrible reality of reality. It was only during these brief quiet moments that his friend deserted him.

He was thinking of Eva. Was she still in there? The sounds of alarms, guards running and yelling, his fellow prisoners running and yelling, was enough for him to realize this had been big. Escape from Alcatraz kind of big. His stomach twisted with the knowledge that there would be punishments handed out for those that the Capitol caught. Somewhere in the Capitol was a very pissed off Sean Connery rip-off who was hunting the trio down fugitive style and their punishment would be a hell of a lot more than a little torture and branding. The very thought had him nervously picking at the gauze on his face as he tried very hard not to think about how much worse things could be.

Bruce was mostly the one keeping them hidden. He had a lot of experience being on the run--admittedly, not even the military had the surveillance capabilities of the Capitol, and they had never dared plaster his face everywhere and get the public's help on catching him, but his experience was still worth something. They had stayed out of the way so far, at least.

They couldn't cook food. Fire would draw attention, and Bruce didn't trust any technology that the Capitol might have secretly added a GPS tracker to. Instead, they had prepared food, like dried meat and dehydrated fruit. Hopefully, it would last them until they were safe in the woods, outside of the Capitol's reach.

"You should eat." Bruce approached Topher slowly. He still didn't know the man too well, despite having risked his life to save him. Bruce wasn't one to make friends too easily. "We're almost to the woods. We're going to be extra careful tomorrow."

Tony watches Topher from where he's sitting, while he wasn't at all familiar with having to always be on the run before now. He did know the horrible feeling of fear and not knowing at anyone moment what was going to happen next.

While there was no real way for Tony to properly reassure Topher, because even his own normally casual demeanor was being challenged right now, he thought he could at least give something ago.

"So, what would you be doing if you hadn't been a suspect of murder then on the run with two interesting genius'?"

Bruce would be lying if he said he didn't feel at least partially responsible for their getting caught. He was the one who had been running from the military for the better part of a decade--he should have been able to get two people out of a city without detection.

The Peacekeepers who sometimes took him out of his cell to talk said that they didn't think that he was the driving force behind all this. They asked him what made him, a brand new tribute, fall in with people like Stark. They said they'd let him go without any consequence if he just told them what they wanted to know.

Like hell.

This time, he came back with wet hair and a bruising cheek. He pulled his sleeve over his left hand to hide the burns they left there, the burns they said they would keep adding to if he kept his mouth shut. He sat down on the ground, folding his legs in a lotus position before resting his back against the wall, and glanced at the force field barriers keeping him apart from the others. "Did I miss anything?"

It was a technique he used a lot when he was hurt and the Hulk was interpreting it as a threat on his life. Meditation pose. Deep, even breathing. Calm thoughts. Breaking down the pain in his head like a chemical equation, until it was nothing but separate components devoid of true meaning.

Tony turned to look at him as he came back from his little question time, his eyes watchful but looking lazy.

"I was going to paint the roof, but apparently they ignored my request for paint."

He gave a shrug as he continued to sit against the wall, clearly disinterested in the bed he was on when Bruce had left.

"How was the Spanish Inquisition?"

While they hadn't been there long, one thing Tony could say for sure was the cell was a damn sight better than a cold cave without even a language consensus. That being said he still wasn't overly thrilled with being captive. That all being said he wasn't about to go and be gloomy about it all.

"Probably better than the actual Spanish Inquisition."

Say what you will about the Spaniards--they knew their torture. And at the very least, Bruce wasn't dead yet.

Perhaps his view of pain was skewed, he though. The transformation he had gone through so many times--the shift from man to beast, from beast to man again, until he didn't know which he was anymore--was the worst pain he had ever experienced. Everything else seemed to pale in comparison.

He leaned against the wall, glancing at the boring scenery. "No, I guess they wouldn't give you paint. You might actually have some fun." He didn't like being trapped. He really didn't like it. But he could deal with it--it was just the crushing boredom and the burn in his hands that were getting to him.

"I don't suppose anyone has any good stories." They couldn't exactly play I-Spy.

"Well, at least you were expecting this to happen." Is it really a surprise that Tony has a slight knowledge of Monty Python? Probably not.

Tony watches as Bruce leans then looks around. His comment makes Tony make an amused noise.

"Having a bit of trouble with that then, I'm having a lot of fun." His tone is sarcastic, but he taps his temple all the same, because after all while Bruce was gone and Topher was being quiet, Tony was sitting there amusing himself with mentally making blueprints.

He went back to looking at Bruce, an eyebrow raising slowly.

"You sure? Last time I told you a story, you feel asleep."

He answers dryly.

"You also told me that story right after I got off a sixteen hour flight. You're lucky I made it to the Swiss elevator before I fell asleep."

Meanwhile, Bruce just mentally goes over the map Lonestar had provided, then physics theorems and equations. He could meditate, but he has just spent most of his interrogation trying to find a happy medium between meditating and giving some semblance of a non-response to the peacekeepers.

"But I'm perfectly awake now, if you don't mind telling me the story. I still don't know what happened." Or why Tony saw fit to give everyone who cared about him a heart attack.

"You know. It's called coffee, some people have it to stay awake, or, energy drinks. I find wheatgrass keeps me alert and prepared for the day." He says in one of his voices more suited to an infomercial.

"Are you sure you want to hear my tired old story, which is probably being optioned for some terrible afternoon television drama?"

Yeah, he's picking on Bruce again, he can't help himself. He starts tapping on the bracelet he was annoyingly issued. Because reflecting on his story, he can't help but feel something like loss when it comes to all those suits he made and the sacrifice he made for Pepper and his, life?

"Some people have it. Some people also don't have to worry about drinking anything that might increase their heart rate." Seriously. He hasn't had a sip of coffee for years. It ratchets up the chance of an incident to an uncomfortable degree.

Bruce picks some lint off his shirt, blowing it gently into the force field separating them and watching it get zapped.

"I'm pretty sure I want to know why I ended up reading that you were dead in a Punjabi tabloid." Because seriously, Tony. That isn't okay. Bruce freaked out a little.

"Because this place is going to do wonders for your heart rate."

There's a scoff at the thought. But then he blinks at the mention of the tabloid.

"Wait, it really got that far? Huh. Well technically they were jumping to conclusions because they didn't go looking for the body. All they saw was my house fall into the sea after it was fired upon with helicopter based missiles."

"Between Stark Industries, the Chitauri invasion, and your habit of finding and killing insurgents in the middle east? Yeah, news about you makes it to Pakistan."

Bruce resists the urge to rub his temples. It would probably hurt to use his hands for anything, but damn, does he want to do something to express his exasperation.

"Remind me why you thought publicly telling a terrorist your home address was a good idea?"

"Well it's always nice to know your always a popular topic in other countries."

He mutters somewhat dismissively, then he looks at Bruce with a blank face when he asks the next question. Before tilting his mouth and gesturing vague shapes as he tried to articulate himself.

"There were extenuating circumstances, I mean there was- Happy was in a coma, put there by one of Killians human firecrackers. It wasn't a particularly. Smart move. But I think it all worked out well in the end." He pauses. "The mansion was getting old anyway, Stark Tower was much more up to date and had a better view."

He tries to distract from his stupid moment by trying to act like it was always his plan to move to New York. Which, it kind of was, but he would have still liked to keep his place in Malibu...

"Hm."

Bruce stares at Tony, ignoring dust motes that float into the force field, making tiny bursting lights along the field's surface. It doesn't take a genius to know that Tony is minimizing all of it, making it seem less than it was.

But hell, Bruce certainly has done the same thing in the past.

"Well, I guess I'm not really in a position to criticize anyone for stupid mistakes."

He did, after all, somehow decide that pumping himself full of cancerous radiation was a good idea. Who does that?

"Just... next time something like that happens, you have my number, okay?" Or what passes as a number when he doesn't carry around anything that could possibly be used to track him, but Tony is better at keeping track of him than the military by virtue of the fact that Bruce doesn't want to hide from him.

"At least being 'dead' gave me a chance to get what needed to be done, uh, done. Sometimes, being alive really gets in the way of things."

Because when all else fails, go for levity to bring the mood up.
Then he nods, turning his gaze to Bruce while not facing him.

"Yeah, well. I barely had a chance to call Pepper, best I could do was call a secure line from a payphone. But hey, next time you could be in the country next time I do that, so you can worry with her." He takes a moment to picture her worrying. "She. Is really good at worrying."

"I'm sure you've given her a lot of practice," Bruce says dryly. Honestly, Pepper is a saint for what she must deal with regularly. "I was thinking more about making your relevant phone calls before the bombs hit next time."

Not that he will, probably. Bruce understands that sometimes the disasters hit, and you don't think to call for help before diving headfirst into it. He just hopes that next time, reports of Tony's death are just as false.

"I don't even know how long I can stay in the country. Especially if SHIELD is collapsing in a few months. Apparently, they've been helping keep the military off my trail for years."

"Well yeah, not, technically on purpose. But you would think she's kind of got the hang of it by now." He runs a hand gingerly through his hair as he has a good bruise from being hit there. "When I get back I'll make sure J.A.R.V.I.S know's you're a priority call" he says with a certain amount of sarcasm.

It's never been a habit of Tony to tell people anything they need to know, one developed from growing up where no one gave the appearance of really caring. Really he's still impressed he even thought to try and contact Pepper or Rhodie at all during Killian's rampage.

"Wouldn't be a problem. I might not contract weapons with the military, but I still have defence contracts. I haven't needed to, but I could always let it be heard that if anyone in combat boots comes near you those contracts might get canceled." Tony speaks so casually and with such certainty it was as if he was pointing out his hair was brown.

Bruce doesn't immediately turn to make eye contact. He keeps his eyes on the force field, but his brow furrows despite his efforts to keep his feelings from his face. Otherwise, he's good at keeping a lid on all the emotions that thought brings up.

"You'd do that for me?"

Dr. Bruce Banner isn't used to people doing things like that for him. Some people will help him just enough so that he'll be available to help them--SHIELD, many people he'd met on his travels. Some people will do him a favor or give him a gift out of the kindness of their hearts--the many men and women he had come across while on the run, without which he would have starved. No one has ever been ready to even try doing something like stand up to the military. No one has ever tried to stand up for him.

Although if anyone were to do it, it'd be Tony.

He doesn't even know if it'd work. He doesn't know who the driving force behind the hunt for him is anymore. He doesn't know if it's backed by General Ross's single-minded obsession, or someone more level-headed. He doesn't know if what contracts Tony might have are worth the possibility of discovering Erskine's formula and creating hulked out beasts for the army.

But they might be.

Tony hadn't been looking at Bruce when he spoke, and really hadn't planned on looking at him now so he didn't. After all, it's not a big deal to do something like that, right?

Friends do that sort of thing, for sure.

"Uh, yeah? I mean, it wouldn't be the first time I've implied I'd do that, and I kind of set a precedent of just closing down sections of my company before."

After all, Stark Industries was a privately owned business. Unless they had a legal way in, there wasn't really a way they could touch Bruce. But then, even if they did have a legal way in, Tony had the best lawyers in the US if not the world and they knew all the best ways to crochet red tape which would keep them out of Bruce's hair for an almost impossibly long time.

It's a big deal for Bruce.

If he had been allowed to keep his glasses, he would be adjusting them right now. He knows Tony is deliberately not making a big thing of it, so he keep a lid on everything he wants to say.

"Thank you."

If Tony's successful, Bruce wouldn't have to run anymore. He doesn't know if he could ever fit back into normal life, but maybe he could sleep soundly again.

"Maybe I can stick around a little longer, then. It's been forever since I was in the United States for any longer than a couple days. Last time I was, Harlem didn't come out too well."

Tony only now chooses to look over towards Bruce.

"I wouldn't worry about Harlem, if they held it against you I'm pretty sure they're grateful for you now. Besides, it's seen worse." After all it has it's own pretty colourful history throughout the years.

However, this conversation has gotten far too close to emotional for Tony's comfort, so he stands up and starts pacing around like a caged creature. It's bad enough he hasn't been allowed to create except for in the arena, but now he can't even entertain himself short of talking and it's really pulling at his nerves.

Not only that but he knows that Bruce is getting hurt in there, he has to be if Tony is. Because even when Tony isn't talking the peacekeepers get a bit slap happy. So he can't even protect his friends which is also making him edgy.

"You're going to wear holes into the floor."

It has gotten a little too close to emotional for Bruce's comfort as well, but it's hard to relax at all when Tony's buzzing with nervous energy next to him. Bruce follows Tony's footsteps with his eyes for a few seconds.

"Have you ever tried meditation? It's good for relaxing."

He highly doubts Tony will like it. Too much sitting still. Not enough action. But maybe attempting it will kill some time.

"It helps the mind slow down a little." And for Bruce, whose mind can ring with theorems and blueprints and graphs and beautiful math, sometimes a switch to make everything slow down is a lifesaver. Otherwise, he gets headaches.

"Yeah, because in this place. I'm really going to find that a deterrent." He continues to pace his cell until Bruce suggests meditation and just gives him a look.

"Meditation? You do remember you're talking to a man who created thirty-six different sets of Iron Man armor with their own unique abilities because he couldn't sleep, right?"

He runs a hand through his hair while shifting his weight.

"Sitting in one spot contemplating my belly button. Really isn't going to help me unwind." He gives a huff then raises his voice so he can be heard by potentially nearby peacekeepers.

"You want the pacing to stop, give me some goddamn tools and a ham radio."

Clearly trying to pointlessly order them around than actually saying this to Bruce.

"...And a sandwich."

He adds on to his obviously ignored order.

Edited 2014-09-02 04:12 (UTC)

"Maybe it's about time you learned how to sit still, then." Coming from Bruce Banner, runner extraordinaire, that's saying something.

Buuuuut he knows that will probably never happen. Maybe if he just ignores Tony and closes his eyes, he can slip away.

Unfortunately, he's bad at ignoring Tony.

"You know, when I was stuck in a cramped space for long periods of time," like during the various times he was a stowaway, "I found that going over languages helped. It also made it a little easier to remember how to speak the local dialect."

Tony just snorts at the suggestion to learn, because really that's what he's been hearing his whole life, being in a jail cell isn't going to make him start giving it ago. But for Bruce's benefit at least he stops pacing so fast.

"Dr. Banner, are you asking me to try and sweet talk you in French?"

He smirks at him.

Bruce raises one unimpressed eyebrow, and in perfect deadpan, "Yes, Tony. Yes, sweet talking me sounds like the exact thing we need right now."

Bruce immediately frowns. "That was supposed to be Spanish." Why did it come out as English?

Tony blinks at Bruce's frown. "Didn't sound Spanish to me."

He gives his cell a suspicious look, before giving it a go himself.

"Maybe they just hate Spani..." He stops before he can finish the sentence, because he was aim for French, then frowns himself.

"Okay, so, they can't take away our intelligence but some how they can take away the fact that we're multilingual? This... This hurts."

"I can think in the different languages. I still remember how to speak it, but it's not coming out right."

Bruce chews the inside of his cheek in mild consternation. "And that was supposed to be in Bengali. This would actually explain how so many people from different universes could all speak perfect English. Maybe they did something to us when we first came in?"

Tony shrugs then actually sits down on his bed platform.

"Well, I guess if we got to develop ways to imitate Star Trek. Can't see why the Capitol can't."

He slouches back against the wall and drums his fingers against his thighs.

"Universal Translators might not be something we've developed yet, but we also haven't figured out transdimensional portals either."

He uses figured out on purpose, because something about this seems more like they found the technology than built it themselves.

"Their technology seems generally more advanced than ours."

Bruce watched the videos of past arenas. How so many of them were marvels of bioengineering and technological design. Gorgeous, elegantly complex creations, self-sustaining, complete with their own ecosystems and wired with unobtrusive cameras and microphones everywhere, perfectly intertwined with the more natural elements, complete with creatures created in the lab that could function and procreate and think and survive. Beautiful. Fascinating.

It's just too bad that they're all used for the most abhorrent things.

"We need a better idea of how they do all this. I don't suppose they have a library in prison, though."

"Maybe five years more advanced than me." Tony answers with a certain amount of ego protection. "But yeah, the rest of Earth won't have anything like this for a good thirty years."

After all Tony's pretty sure if there was a dire need for a self sustaining environment that could be easily manipulated to kill you, he could figure out a way to make it happen.

"Even if they have a prison library, I don't think they're going to let a pair of geniuses near them." He huffs in irritation. He hadn't been in the cell all that long really, but it was already like a millennia to Tony.

For once, Bruce doubts it. Tony Stark is easily the most brilliant engineer Bruce has ever met--but he's an engineer. Metal, wires, circuitry, a dash of chemistry. It's a very different realm from the flesh and breath and organic horror of most of the arenas. Bruce doubts anyone will be able to make those sorts of things, let alone have them function independently without deep genetic flaws, for at least sixty years.

The creation of new life is, perhaps, something people shouldn't tamper with.

Tony's nervous tension is getting Bruce wound up. He rests his head against the wall and closes his eyes, evening his breathing to stay completely calm. "They could have at least given us a deck of cards."

His hands hurt. They throb in his lap, trying to gain his attention in a cell where very little was competing with them.

Admittedly, Tony's boast is linked more to the technology within the Capitol itself more than the arenas. Mostly due to the fact that if he actually stopped to think about how much went into making the arena's he would go legitimately crazy instead of his usual charmingly eccentric due to having all that knowledge in front of him that he wouldn't be able to access.

Tony Turns his head to Bruce again as he laments the lack of cards.

"Right, forty questions and no, it's not a bread box."

Bruce let out a soft, amused huff. "I haven't played that game in years. Is it organic?"

He hasn't played those kinds of games since the days of his childhood, when his mother would pass long car rides by playing them with him. It would be nice if that was all they were doing now, and now just waiting for the Peacekeepers to take one of them away again.

"Hmmm."

Considering what Tony had in mind it would be easy to say no, but then it would of course be a joke and could mean that Banner would never guess. But only because Tony doubted Bruce could be as terrible as himself.

"I'm going to say yes."

Well, it wasn't going to last forever...

Day/Night before their recapture

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Day before their recapture

The holding cell, day after they're captured

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