Chapter Eight: The Stowaway

[destinyawakened]

Title: Calling a Truce: Stowaway
Authors: Destinyawakened and MJLS
Rating: pg-13
words: 6200
Pairings/Characters: Tony Stark/Bruce Wayne, Alfred, Dick Grayson, and introducing Timothy Drake
Summary: Bruce and Tony decide to help a kid find his kidnapped father...

Warnings: spoilers for Batman Begins, The Dark Knight, and Iron Man
Disclaimer: We don't own or claim to own the characters or settings, the books mentioned or make any money.
Song: Homecoming: Green Day
Parts: One | Two | Three | Four | Five | Six | Seven |

Bruce woke some time later to the blaring of the television. He rolled over to see Tony at the edge of the bed eating what looked like pizza. Bruce went to sit up and felt his head start to spin and his vision blur. He hadn't felt this awful since the first time he was spritzed with Ra's al Ghul's fear toxin. This felt much worse though -- cramping in his stomach, acid sitting near his throat and a headache that pounding against his skull so hard he couldn't even think straight. Bruce squinted his eyes at the television, holding his hand to block the glare and started out of bed, falling to his knees. Apparently, still slightly drunk. Bruce pulled himself up by the bed-covers, placing a hand on Tony's shoulder to steady himself as he shuffled towards the bathroom

He didn't bother with the lights, just ran towards the toilet as the whatever he had eaten (did he eat?) last night started to come back up. He got down to his knees and grabbed the side of the toilet as he a spew of orangey gunk flow from his mouth. When he thought he was done, he just let his head rest again the seat, afraid to even move. He closed his eyes to stop the spinning, and heard footsteps coming closer to the bathroom. He didn't want to meet Tony's eyes, or even the assessing gaze he knew the man was going to be giving him. Bruce already knew how horrible it was that he didn't even drink that much and had still gotten a hangover.

Tony started to talk and Bruce put a hand up for him to stop. "Please for the love of God, Tony... just stop," Bruce murmured, the sound of even his own voice was making his ears ache and his head feel like someone had stab it a million times with a fork. He probably should take something, but the thought of swallowing anything made his stomach churn and he found himself face down in the toilet again, letting loose another round of vomit. This time Bruce was sure that might be the last of it, since he was sure he hadn't eaten much yesterday. He reached up and pushed down the handle for the toilet to flush it. He slowly looked over at Tony, who was standing there wearing just sleep pants and his arms were crossover his chest, but he had a little concern written across his face.

"You should have eaten some of that Sushi," he said in a quieter tone, one that was less harmful to the headache Bruce had.

"Yeah?" Bruce asked, weakly. "You couldn't have told me that last night?"

"You were the one coming on to me, I wasn't going to deny you that," Tony said, smirking.

"Nice of you," Bruce groaned, trying to get up, but his head was starting to spin again.

Bending down to his level, Tony placed a hand on Bruce's shoulder and got some of Bruce's hair out of his eyes. Bruce looked at Tony groggily, eyes half open because it was harder to keep them up with the weight of how foggy his head felt. Tony looked sympathetically into Bruce's eyes, taking his face into his hands and caressing his cheeks with his thumbs. He wanted to be able to kiss it away, but the thought of kissing Bruce Wayne who just vomited twice was not appealing. Instead, he kissed the man's forehead. Bruce glared at the man, as if it was all his fault that he was sick in the first place. In a way, it actually was but he wasn't going to say that out loud.

"How about some breakfast, buttercup?" Tony asked, helping Bruce to his feet, steadying him with a hand on his back and the other on his chest.

"I don't think I want to even try to keep anything down," Bruce groaned as Tony helped him shuffle back out of the bathroom.

"Oh, don't be like that. I had pizza delivered for this very reason! The grease will help absorb the rest of the alcohol." Tony lead Bruce to the a table, pulling the chair out for him. He handed him a plate with a slice of pizza on it. "Now do as Uncle Tony says and eat it."

Bruce stared at the pizza. "Eh..." his stomach churned again, "I'm not hungry Tony," Bruce scrunched up his nose and pushed the plate away again. Tony picked up the slice and started making choo-choo sounds. Bruce glared at him.

"Don't make me do it, Brucie," Tony warned, making more choo-choos, "Bruce Thomas Wayne," Tony glared, "Eat. The. Pizza. Uncle Tony demands it."

Bruce looked at Tony with death in his eyes. "'Uncle Tony' can stuff it," Bruce grumbled, taking the glass of water on the table instead and drinking that. Tony sat down next to him and began to tear the pizza into tiny pieces and Bruce just watched him. "What are you doing?"

"You're going to eat this one way or another," Tony said. "I am not going to go out and try to have fun today with you acting like a big baby because you don't feel well and don't want to do anything about it." Tony reached over and popped a few of the pieces into Bruce's mouth, who was so shocked he didn't even have time to close his mouth or reject the food. "Now be a good boy, Brucie and chew and swallow."

Bruce frowned but did as told. "I hate you," Bruce mumbled through the food, and Tony forced more into his mouth to shut him up.

"I know, I hate your guts, too, now don't make me go over to acting like a total mother on you and actually say 'open the garage,here comes the Batmobile' because that would be a bit over the top, Wayne."

Bruce grabbed the rest of the pizza from Tony before he could be force-fed more. He took a bite, making sure Tony saw him do it. "No need, Stark," Bruce said bitterly. He was still blaming the other man for being hungover anyway. Although, Tony's remedy did seem to work, greasy food was making him feel a lot better. Tony handed Bruce a bottle of aspirin.

"Trust me Bruce, I know what's best for you in these situations, god knows I've been enough in them myself, take those now," Tony said. Bruce opened the bottle and took four with the glass of water in front of him. Tony stood, patting Bruce's face affectionately. "Good, now. I'm going to go shower and wash this 'Bruce juice' off my ass -- that someone so lovingly left there last night -- and when I get back I expect at least another slice eaten and you in a better mood."

--------

Bruce let Tony drive his car back to Gotham. He felt better but he still had the biggest headache he'd ever encountered in his life. They arrived back at the penthouse a few hours later, and Alfred shuffled around them to put Bruce's suitcase away when Tony told him not to bother and to just repack it with clean clothes because they were leaving for Malibu in a few hours once his private jet showed up. Bruce glared at Tony and wondered when the other man was going to tell him about his little schemes.

"Very well, Master Stark," Alfred said, walking the suit case to the bedroom. Bruce raised his eyebrow at Tony.

"Usually when you invite someone home with you, you let them know about it."

Tony shrugged. "And have you say no? Not nearly as fun."

"What if I have other plans?"

"Do you?"

Bruce frowned. "No."

"Then stop whining. I can't stay in Gotham for long, it ruins my tan, Brucie."

Dick rounded the corner then, patting Bruce on the shoulder. "You look terrible," he said. Tony started to laugh. "What happened to you?"

"Rough night," Bruce replied, trying glare down Tony so he'd stop laughing at him.

"I'll say," Tony butted in, but the glare from Bruce hardened and he pointed down the hallway to the bathroom. "I, uh, yeah..."

"So, leaving for a few days, Bruce?" Dick asked.

"Seems that way," Bruce replied. "And I want full reports sent to my laptop and phone daily. I don't want to come back again only to find out something else like the Joker escaping has happened and I wasn't immediately notified."

Dick nodded. "Yes, sir." When Bruce knew what Dick wanted to say was that the man needed to trust him to take care of things. But Bruce had a hard time letting go; Gotham was his baby, the one thing he'd sworn to protect and he wasn't going to let anyone mess that up -- not even Dick Grayson, the one person he'd trained himself to do the job right. Tony returned with Alfred behind him with a fresh suitcase packed for Bruce. He set it down.

"When might I expect your return, sir?"

Bruce looked to Tony expectantly. Tony grinned. "Not as long as last time, I know how much you all miss him. Let's go with a week and if longer is needed I'll make sure little Brucie-wusey calls to check in," Tony said as he reached over and pinched one of Bruce's cheeks. Bruce slapped Tony's hand away, rubbing at his cheek. Tony grabbed Bruce's hand. "C'mon, I just got the text and the jet is waiting."

------

Tony's private jet was a lot more spacious and comfortable than Bruce's ever was and would ever be. Bruce didn't mind simple things, but Tony obviously liked luxury. What threw Bruce off a bit was the stripper pole in the middle, and as he walked past it he looked at Tony with one raised brow. Tony smirked as he followed Bruce, motioning to the few flight attendants that Tony hired for his personal use.

"They multi-task," Tony said slyly. One of the girls winked at Bruce.

"I'll bet," Bruce murmured, slightly annoyed with Tony. He knew the man was womanizer, but this?

"Oh relax Brucie, I can remove it with a touch of a button, but who knows, maybe you can dance around it before I do?" Tony smirked, sitting down on the wide couch and looking expectantly at Bruce who just kept glaring at Tony.

"There is no way in hell I would ever do that... even for you," Bruce replied. He didn't even move, and just folded his arms over his chest to show Tony his discontent.

"I also got a whip somewhere in the back," Tony smirked, "and some outfits. Amuse me why don't you Wayne?"

"I'm not your bitch, Stark," Bruce remarked, touching the pole with his fingertips as he walked past it to sit next to Tony. The other man's comments were starting to grow on him, as if he was half expecting them now. It was easier to ignore them and move on than make more comments to which Tony just had something else to say on the matter.

"No, you're not eh?" Tony smiled knowingly,"if you look at it, it was pretty much the other way around last time..."

"... And that's how it'll stay," Bruce said smugly, spreading his arms out over the back of the seat, finally relaxing.

Tony grinned and sat up, laying down his head on Bruce's lap and staring up at the man. No words were spoken between them but Bruce couldn't help but let his fingers trail through the dark locks that belonged to Tony. Tony smiled contently and got more comfortable, clearly enjoying this moment. This was exactly how Bruce liked Tony; mellow, quiet and not making Bruce feel so high strung. Bruce not only had his hands running through Tony's hair but now and then caressing Tony's face and feeling the slight scratch of his goatee. Bruce leaned his head back against the seat and closed his eyes. Long trip to California and he hadn't really slept that well and was quiet exhausted from the mornings vomiting session. And just as Bruce was about to drift off he heard thunk come from across the cabin.

"Mmm, just the cat," Tony mumbled, turning his head as the man was also dozing off.

Bruce nodded and closed his eyes again. "Cat?" he asked softly, unaware that Tony even liked cats. At least it wasn't a big dog; Bruce cringed inwardly, one too many bad run-ins.

"See, I knew you liked Selina," Tony yawned, "you even say 'cat' in your dreams..." Tony threw one arm around Bruce's waist, pulled himself up and snuggled in the man's chest. Bruce let his hands hold Tony tightly to him.

"I was asking why there would be a cat in here," Bruce murmured. "And Selina's... she's a friend, Tony." Bruce was just confused what cats had to do with Selina, although she did have quite a few cats from what he could tell the last time he'd taken her home. Maybe some people were obviously cat people.

"Why would there be a cat in here?" Tony snuggled closer even if that was physically impossible. Bruce frowned, opening his mouth to answer again when there was another thump again, and this time Bruce opened his eyes fully and peered across the room at a small closet.

"Do you have a cat or dog, Tony?" he asked, since Tony wasn't actually giving him any real answers.

"Mmm, do you mean one of those furry animals that walk on four legs or one of those you can adopt on the internet? Or maybe that cute little one from Office Word? God I do love playing with that one during meetings and pretend I'm working," Tony grinned, kissing Bruce's neck for a second and then closing his eyes again, trying to get some sleep but obviously failing at it. Bruce grumbled, sliding Tony off of him and lying him down on the couch to sleep. Tony immediately curled up into fetus position and sniffed, making Bruce smile lovingly at the man. He bent over and kissed his head, to let Tony that he'd be right back and to sleep, since he obviously needed it. Bruce then walked over to the closet slowly, sliding against the wall and opening the door with one hand, but hiding himself as he peered around the corner of it.

To Bruce's surprise there was no furry little animal of which Tony was speaking, but instead of a young man, maybe the age of fourteen, sitting in the corner. The kid looked up at him, all blue eyes and deep black hair. Bruce held out his hand for him and the kid reluctantly took it and allowed Bruce to help to his feet.

"Strange, I don't remember you being on the check list of things to bring on this trip," Bruce said casually, trying to break the unease of the boy. "My name's Bruce, what's your's?"

The boy looked him over, almost as if he already knew who Bruce was, and then he looked over at the curled up Tony on the couch, and then back to Bruce again. "Tim Drake," he said.

"Well that's a start," Bruce said leading Tim to the other end of the couch that Tony wasn't occupying. "Can you tell me why you're here?"

"I need your help," Tim replied nervously, squeezing his hands together. Bruce nodded, as if to tell him to go on. "See, I know who you are and Mister Stark... and I could really use your help finding my dad."

"Hold on, go back..." Bruce said, sighing. "You know who I am? Meaning?"

Tim leaned in, as if he didn't want Tony to hear. "That you're Batman."

Bruce narrowed his eyes on the kid for a second, assessing him. "And you came to this conclusion how? Because it seems pretty ridiculous..."

Tony sat up and yawned in the background and heard the last line coming from Bruce's mouth before he rolled his eyes, "Well cupcake, not only do you shout out 'I'm the goddamn Batman' with your cute glares at me, much like you're doing now yes, secondly -- is that even a word? -- kid isn't stupid. Well, maybe a bit, but you get what I mean...right?"

Tim shrugged at Bruce and smiled quickly at him. "I've been following you in the news for years, Mister Wayne -- ever since the Grayson Tragedy. With all the clues and information laid out, it was obvious. And it's also why I only trust you two to find my dad."

"Couldn't have brought me a good scotch could you kid?" Tony scrunched up his nose and threw one of his arms over Bruce's shoulders and wrapped it around the man's chest, as if to say to the young boy that Bruce was his.

Bruce ran and a hand through his hair; obviously he thought he'd covered his tracks pretty well, that or this kid was smarter than the average which was damn likely, too. "Tony..." he said looking over at the man. Bruce looked back to Tim. "Where was your father last?'

"Gotham, but he was kidnapped a week or so ago, a note was left about California," Tim explained. Bruce nodded; it all made sense now why Tim not just wanted their help because of who they were, but because they were headed the one direction he needed to be.

Bruce reached up and held on to Tony's arm that was draped around his chest, but kept his gaze on the kid. "Convenient."

Tony scratched his hair, let go of Bruce when he realized Tim wasn't a threat and went over to pour himself a scotch, suddenly wondering where the flight attendants were to actually do it for him. Not really caring, Tony yawned and strutted back towards Bruce, ruffling the man's brown hair, grinning in his half-awake state. Bruce glared at Tony, as if to 'scotch already?' but with Tony, this wasn't unusual. He turned back to Tim.

"Okay, because you've obviously gone through all this trouble to find us, I'm going to help you." He didn't want to speak for Tony, because god knew what that man had to do in Malibu this week.

Tim smiled. "Thanks," he said quietly. Bruce bit his lip, damn why was he a sucker for kids in need?

"Mmm, more scotch," Tony looked at his empty glass with a pout and walked away to refill it, earning an annoyed and bored expression from Bruce. Tim was slowly starting to fall asleep and Bruce handed him his jacket to use as a pillow, watching as the kid drifted off in the corner. He turned his gaze to Tony who was walking back with another glass of scotch.

"So, what's all of this about? And that kid better not eat all my skittles, you know, just saying," Tony yawned and rubbed one of his eyes with his freehand, looking sort of adorable in Bruce's eyes even if the man was a bit annoyed.

"He's not going to touch your stupid candy, Tony," Bruce replied. "His father was kidnapped and taken to somewhere in California. He's asking for help to find him."

"Well, I guess he can touch my skittles then," Tony sniffed, still not fully awake but already getting the full amount of Bruce's annoyance, "and relax Bruce, we'll find the kid's dad, reunite them, kid's happy, you happy, me happy, one big happy family. Just don't adopt him or I might just throw myself off a cliff...in my suit of course..."

"Why the hell would I adopt some kid who already has a father? What is wrong with you?" Bruce asked, annoyed. Sometimes Tony was so random he just wanted to... No, that wasn't true; he'd regret that. Bruce held his head in his hands. "Let's just help Tim find his father quickly so we can get this done." Bruce was more worried about how many other people could see through his facade now -- it wasn't every day a fourteen year old was smart enough to put those clues together.

"You pick up kids like you pick up stray bats."

"I have one, Tony. ONE!" Bruce hold up one finger, as if it would actually sink into Tony's head. "And his parents were murdered right in front of him. How could I not take him in?"

"Mm, yea, well, that one kid is cocky enough for your entire cave full of bats," Tony snorted, "and I can't even believe I just said 'cocky', no pun intended to the kid and all, just saying." Bruce knew when Tony was rambling, he did it a lot, and pulled the man's hand so that he stumbled over to where he was sitting.

"Tony, shut up," Bruce said as he pulled the man down onto his lap and kissed him.

------

They arrived in Malibu hours later, Tony's car was waiting for them with Happy at the wheel. The three of them in the back, much to Tony's disapproval. From the information Bruce was able to gather about Tim's father and the kidnapping letter that the kid showed them, clues were leading them to Los Angeles. The easiest thing to do was wait it out at Tony's place until evening. Bruce had come prepared this time and packed his suit in a lead armored suitcase. They convinced Tim that he needed to sit back at the mansion with Pepper.

Tony, having altered his cars too much to allow anybody else to drive them except himself and Happy Hogan, was weary to give over the keys of his second Audi R8 to Bruce but in the end, the man managed to convince Tony he would be careful with the car and not crash it like his Lamborghini's. This didn't mean Tony was more relaxed on Bruce driving his car but at least he'd have a new car to tinker with if Bruce did crash the Audi.

"If you're that worried, Tony, you should just come with me," Bruce said, packing the suit case with the Batsuit in into the back of Tony's car. He didn't want it known that Batman was driving around Stark's car.

"I'm sorry, but I ain't driving with someone next to me. It's distracting and honestly? Not really that good if you get unexpected dates. Like a lot of mine start," Tony grinned. Bruce just blinked at Tony, his bluntness on the matter of getting "dates" was rather disheartening to Bruce, but at that moment it didn't really matter -- Bruce had promised Tim he'd find his father, and he was going to do it.

"Fine," Bruce said grabbing Tony's keys from him. "Just keep an eye on Tim. I doubt he'd going anywhere, though."

"...What am I supposed to do with the kid? Snakes and ladders? I got an AI to keep him company Bruce!" Tony grumbled, glaring at Bruce who stopped at the door of the car, not really knowing what Tony was actually trying to get across.

Bruce opened the driver's side door, looking to Tony with some confusion. "Do whatever you want then, Tony," Bruce said, sliding into the seat.

"...Well it's not like he's going to blow the kid up or anything. Only does that with microwaves," Tony blinked, completely serious, "now..let's make lemonade!"

Changing his mind, Tony strutted over towards the black panel in the floor and within seconds, robotic arms started moving around Tony left and right, putting on the newest Iron Man model, made while the man was in Gotham (specifics had been done through a portable JARVIS on Tony's laptop). On the outside, it still looked pretty much the same but Bruce was sure that on the inside, a lot was different for Tony. The only thing Bruce hoped was that the car and Iron Man around it wouldn't pull too much attention and alert the kidnappers.

Tony was nice enough to let Bruce keep up with him at a steady pace, thus not creating too much of a scene or Bruce having to keep up and possibly calling the attention of the police. The clues they compiled left them headed to, again, some abandoned warehouse -- it seemed to be key choice for most criminals these days, if even obvious for most to look there. Bruce parked the Audi a mile or so down the road, changed as quick as he could, and ran the rest of the way, catching up with Tony.

"What do you see?" Bruce growled, knowing it was Tony, but putting the suit on always made the growl automatic now. Tony had gone to look through the one of the windows and was floating back down to talk to him.

"Men trying to be tough? They should also invest in some Stark weapons, the ones they got now look like they got them in a toy store and are loaded with water..." Tony rolled his eyes behind the mask, even if he knew Bruce couldn't see it, "thank god I made this version waterproof eh?"

Bruce scaled the wall, jumping to a ledge with a window and peering inside. In the middle (always the middle) of the room was a black haired man tied to a chair. that obviously had to be Tim's father, Jack. Bruce pulled out his goggles and looked a little further. The man wasn't moving and there was dark puddle of liquid below the man and Bruce feared the worst. A door below them opened and he heard Tony curse and then gun shots being fired. Bruce got down on his stomach, and peeked over the edge of the ledge, aware the men couldn't really see him in the dark, but Tony was a pretty open target. Thank God Tony had bullet proof armor.

"I'm fine," Tony yelled (in a sort of sing-song, mocking way) with his face at the guards but meant to say it for Bruce, "now could you stop shooting? Christ, dents are hell to get out of this suit."

Bruce never doubted for a second that Tony would get hurt, but the nature of his comment did leave him some relief. Bruce pulled a smoke bomb off his belt and threw it down at the men, causing most of them cough and gag, leaving Bruce the moment of surprise as he jumped down into the middle of thee group of ten men, kicking two in the head and bashing a couple more together with his hands, ducking and blocking a few more before they could realize what happened. Last thing Bruce needed was an up close gun shot wound, again. His fist connected with someone's jaw and then another until he had taken down all ten of the men. The smoke cleared. Only a matter of minutes until more came out, so Bruce scaled the wall again and jumped to the roof this time. No time like the present to make themselves known.

Tony on the other hand just ended up hovering around Bruce's area, disabling all the weapons and camera's around them, just to be on the safe side and when his scanners picked up something remotely close to a weapon being pointed around Bruce, he stopped them. It wasn't much that he did but at least it helped Bruce in the long run. Bruce smirked up at Tony, aware of what he was doing -- it was kind of nice having back up that did more than he could.

Jumping down into the warehouse, Bruce landed quickly behind a group of men talking (something about whether they thought it was safe to go check out the disturbance outside), taking just one swift movement to bash their heads together and knock them out cold to the ground with only the slightest thud, which wasn't even heard by the last group in the room. Bruce sneaked around the side of the other group, but this time wasn't as lucky and one of them saw a glimpse of him and tried shooting, but lucky for Bruce Tony was on top of that. Bruce knocked the weapons away and brought the three of them down. The room finally cleared, or so Bruce hoped, he walked over to Jack Drake, checking his vitals.

Tony did one salto in the air (probably to show off) and then landed next to Bruce, scanning over the man's vitals with his build-in scanners faster than Bruce could . Tony placed a hand on Bruce's shoulder, refraining the man from doing anything drastic to the body and then pulled the Batman against his chest, one arm around his waist.

"Was already dead before we came in," Tony said solemnly, "you can't do anything, and knowing you, you would try. I already alerted the authorities about this."

Bruce did try struggle for a moment, not really wanting to believe what Tony said, but there was a realization and he knew that Tony was right. How was he supposed to tell Tim that they failed -- that he failed. "We were too late," Bruce murmured, not bothering with the growl, too angry with himself to think about it.

"Don't blame yourself," Tony said as he flew Bruce up to the roof and so left the scene, "you didn't pull the trigger that killed him, nor used the knife that stabbed him, I don't know how he died but I do know that you are not to blame."

Bruce pushed back from Tony once they were back on the roof. Tony was right, Bruce knew that, but the fact was Bruce could have gone earlier, could have done something... He sighed and jumped down the warehouse. "Let's just go," Bruce growled, stalking back towards the car, already starting to remove his gloves and gauntlets, almost dressed down by the time he got there, he slid into the back and dressed down to his jeans and a t-shirt, and following Tony back to the mansion. When they arrived back, Bruce parked the car exactly where it had been parked before, and got out, tossing the keys down onto one of Tony's workbenches before taking the stairs to the next floor.

"Mmm, and not a scratch on it, congratulations Wayne, you're fit to drive my other cars now," Tony grinned as he finally got out of the suit and walked over to the sulking man, kissing him quickly on the lips to call his full attention to him, "let me say it again okay? None of it all, is your fault. Got it?"

Bruce pressed his lips together, still feeling the slight tingle of the kiss Tony planted there. He tried to give his best understanding smile, although it felt a lot faker than most he'd ever given to anyone. He'd done this dance before, last time with Alfred when Dick Grayson's parents were murdered -- Bruce felt the same when then as he did now, but this was different, he had known ahead of time, he could have possibly prevented this. Bruce gazed into Tony's eyes for a moment as they stood on the stairs.

"Yeah," was all Bruce said, nodding slightly.

"Also, I noticed something," Tony frowned, "your ass looks amazing in that leather suit. Fuck!"

Bruce ran his hands through his hair, shaking his head at Tony as he started up the rest of the stairs. "Now isn't really the time for that revelation, Tony," he said dully.

"Why not? I mean, wow man, did you see yourself in that suit? It looks great!"

"Nightly, Tony, almost nightly," Bruce replied as his feet touched the main floor, seeing Pepper and Tim sitting on the couch, watching something on the television. As Bruce approached, Tony some paces behind him, Tim looked up and looked hopeful for a moment. Then his face fell when he noticed his father wasn't with them. Pepper looked up at Bruce and Tony and then excused herself from the room for a moment.

"Tim..." Bruce said, sitting down next to the teen. He couldn't really think of a nice way to tell Tim that his father was dead -- there just wasn't a way to do it. "We didn't quite make it there in time." Vague, Bruce thought, sighing. "You're father was killed before we ever showed up."

Tim didn't say a word, just looked from Bruce to Tony, who had kept quiet thus far. Bruce placed a hand on Tim's shoulder, but the kid pulled away and started towards the room Pepper had set up for him to stay in. "I'd like to be alone," he finally said, walking past Tony.

Bruce looked after Tim, then let his gaze wander back to Tony who was still standing. "That went.... well," Bruce said, frowning.

"At least he didn't run out screaming or hit you..." Tony grimaced, patting Bruce's shoulders.

"He's fourteen, not six," Bruce replied. He placed his elbows on his knees and held his hand in his hands. "Still feels a little surreal, like it could have been avoided. What are the odds Tony that this man was missing for a week and then we suddenly go looking for him and they kill him? What if they knew we were coming and shot him out of spite?"

"They didn't. Not everything in the world revolves around your skinny ass Bruce," Tony huffed, pouring himself a good scotch, receiving a pointed glare from Pepper (who walked back in) and Bruce alike.

"Tony, if they got word we were coming, if someone somehow was able to find out... This could be our fault -- my fault," Bruce said, rubbing his eyes with the palms of his hands. He didn't blame Tony for anything, because he had asked Tony to come along, after all.

"Right, let's just go back in time with my super secret time machine and stop ourselves from ever finding out about the kidnapping, and then use the machine again to see if we changed anything," Tony rolled, "I got to warn you though, it's not exactly the best time machine ever, sometimes ends up putting me on other planets, oh and it talks to you in your mind. Did I mention it's a blue police box?"

"You've been watching too much TV..."

"I was bored, sue me," Tony rolled his eyes and grabbed Pepper's laptop that she so carefully left behind when claiming she was going to check up on Tim.

Bruce didn't say anything. Tony was taking the situation a little too lightly, Bruce thought, and his attitude towards how Bruce felt was a little aggravating and didn't really help Bruce feel any better about the actions he himself had taken that evening. Bruce stood and walked past Tony to the kitchen to get a glass of water, and to just cool off before he had something regrettable.

"Aha! See! I was right! None of it is your fault!" Tony grinned and beckoned for Bruce to come over from the kitchen and sit next to him, "I just logged in on the site of the police, because you know, I can do that and stuff, read the just updated coroner's report on the case. Apparently, mister Drake, had been dead...mm, right about the time we stepped on our plane in Gotham. Nothing you could've done cupcake. Not a single thing."

Bruce, glass in hand, walked over to Tony and sat down next to him, looking over his shoulder to see the report. "Hm...Yeah," Bruce said, drinking the rest of his water and then setting the glass down on the coffee table. Tony placed both of his hands on Bruce's shoulders and forced the man to look at him.

"No-th-ing," Tony said, drawing out the syllables, "got that?"

"Yes," Bruce said with a nod, just wanting to drop it all together. Nothing would change how awful he felt for Tim, so the longer he thought about the worse he knew it would likely be. The most he could was just be there for the kid... and find out if he had any other family.

"Just don't make me go and repeat myself now okay sugardoll?" Tony asked, "It's bad for my health..."

Bruce smiled slightly at Tony before taking a deep breath. "Deal. I'm gonna go dress down to something more comfortable," he said, as he stood, letting his fingertips brush Tony's shoulder as he walked past him.

"Does that mean no clothes?" Tony asked after him with a hopeful tone.

"You might have to put that laptop down and follow me if you really want to find out," Bruce said, his somber attitude starting to slip a bit with the flirtatious tone Tony used. There were definitely ways they could forget about that nights happening... at least for a bit.