He doesn’t want to fight with him. He doesn’t want to fight at all. But sometimes, Tony thinks Bruce needs someone to fight for him. For all of him. And because of that, he can’t let it go. He stops walking. He faces him. But he doesn’t let it go.

“Which nightmare version is that, Bruce?” he asks, but this time he softens the edge of his voice, forces the anger to recede. “The one that saves peoples’ lives? The one that lets people ride on his back? The one that jumps in front of gunfire and shrugs off the bullets so he can protect people? Is it the one that pulled me into a hug because I promised to always be his friend? Is it the one that took the time to try to help some sad bastard laugh and feel just a little better about his life?”

Harping on the Hulk isn’t the way to go and he knows it. “I know shit happened. I saw the footage. But before isn’t now. And I know you lost everything because of him. Your life, Betty, your career, your reputation, your freedom from being hounded by the military. I get that. Trust me, I get it.” And proof of that understanding is still brightly glowing in the middle of his chest.

“But you’re still alive. You still have a life. You can still make a life. And if you would just try for half a second to see beyond how much anger you have toward him, then maybe he wouldn’t have to be a nightmare at all. Maybe you would never have to be afraid of an incident again because there wouldn’t be any more incidents.”