Tony, being Tony, ignored Stephen's weary dismissal entirely. He walked over to the counter, plucking a box of takeout from the bag and grabbing a pair of chopsticks. He leaned against the counter, eyeing Stephen as he casually opened the box.
"Christine first," Tony began, pointing a chopstick at Stephen. "Did you talk to her? How'd it go? Did she slam the door in your face, or did you two get all teary-eyed and share some heartfelt reunion?"
Stephen sighed, rubbing his temples as he finally sat down with his own box of food. "If you must know, I spoke to her. She was... shocked, understandably. I told her the truth—or as much of the truth as she could handle."
"And?" Tony pressed, his tone a mix of curiosity and thinly veiled jealousy.
"And," Stephen said, raising an eyebrow at Tony, "she asked for time to process it. Which is fair, considering I essentially told her the man she cared about is gone, replaced by a stranger who looks just like him."
Tony nodded slowly, chewing thoughtfully. "Right. Fair. Totally reasonable. So… no rekindling the old flame, then?"
Stephen paused mid-bite, his blue eyes narrowing as he caught the edge in Tony's voice. "No. There's no flame to rekindle, Tony. I told you, in my universe, she moved on. She married. She had children. And even if she weren't, that chapter of my life is closed."
Tony seemed to relax at that, though he tried to cover it by taking another bite of food. "Good," he said nonchalantly. "I mean, not good about her being upset, but, you know, good that you're not planning to... complicate things further."
Stephen's gaze lingered on him, his expression unreadable. He opened his mouth as if to say something but thought better of it, returning his attention to his food instead.
Tony, however, wasn't done. "So, what about the man on the couch?" Tony asked, gesturing vaguely with his chopsticks. "Because I'm pretty sure you didn't come back here dragging him with you just because you wanted to share some Thai food."
Stephen sighed, setting down his fork. "Do you ever stop asking questions?"
"Not really," Tony said with a grin. "It's part of my charm."
Rolling his eyes, Stephen leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms. "There was an incident in Harlem. A... creature created when a human was exposed to gamma radiation was wreaking havoc. I stepped in to keep the civilians safe."
Tony's grin faded slightly, replaced by a more serious expression. "Wait. Gamma radiation? That sounds familiar... wasn't there a guy—Banner? Dr. Bruce Banner? He was working on something like that."
Stephen glanced briefly at the man on the couch. "Yes. That's him."
Tony's eyebrows shot up. "That's Banner? Last I heard, he had some kind of accident and went off the grid. He's been missing for ages." His gaze flicked back to Stephen. "So, wait, are you telling me he was that creature you mentioned?"
"Not exactly," Stephen said dryly, massaging his temple. "He was one of them."
Tony froze mid-bite, his eyes widening. "One of them? As in, there were two of these gamma monsters?"
Stephen nodded, his tone calm but tired. "Two. And if I hadn't intervened, there wouldn't be a Harlem anymore. I put them in a time-out, dealt with some of the destruction they caused, and ignored the military's less-than-polite attempts to interfere."
Tony let out a low whistle, setting his chopsticks down. "Okay, so Banner's one of the monsters. What about the other guy?"
"Blonsky," Stephen said, his voice tightening slightly. "From what I read from his soul, he was a soldier who volunteered to experiment with gamma radiation in an attempt to recreate the original transformation. He let his ego drive him, and... he became something far worse."
Tony tilted his head, his expression turning sharper. "Worse how?"
Stephen's jaw clenched briefly before he replied. "He became... obsessed. Wanted to prove himself stronger than Banner's transformation. I had no choice but to deal with him."
Tony studied him carefully, his gaze narrowing slightly. "Deal with him how?"
Stephen exhaled, his voice measured but firm. "I locked his transformation. He won't be able to turn into that monster again."
Tony's eyes widened, his awe and unease evident. "Wait. You can just... lock someone out of transforming into a giant rage monster? Like flipping a switch?"
"I can, though I don't recommend it," Stephen replied simply, his voice carrying the weight of finality. But I had to. He was too dangerous to leave unchecked."
"Why not?"
"It's like locking part of your psyche from you."
"Oh." Tony leaned back, his face unreadable for a moment as he processed this. Then he let out a low whistle, shaking his head. "Okay, mental note: don't piss off the wizard."
Stephen smirked faintly, picking up his fork again. "Trust me, Stark, you're already walking a fine line most days."
Tony laughed, the tension in the room easing slightly. "Yeah, but admit it—you'd miss me if I weren't around."
Stephen paused mid-bite, his gaze flickering to Tony. For a moment, he considered brushing the comment off with his usual dry humor. But instead, he simply said, "Maybe I would."
The admission hung in the air, quieter and heavier than either of them expected. Tony blinked, his smirk softening into something almost vulnerable before he pushed it aside with a quick shrug.
"Well," Tony said lightly, breaking the moment, "sounds like you've had one hell of a day. Welcome back to Malibu, by the way. But next time? Leave the gamma monsters in New York, yeah?"
Stephen chuckled softly, shaking his head. "I'll do my best."
Tony opened his mouth, clearly about to fire off another question, when Stephen's gaze snapped to the couch where Bruce lay. "You know," Stephen said, his voice cutting through the room like a knife, "it's incredibly rude to eavesdrop on someone else's conversation."
Bruce sat up, his face pale but determined as he ignored the jab. "You said you locked Blonsky out of his transformation," he said, his voice hoarse but steady. "Can you do the same to me?"
The room seemed to freeze. Tony looked between Bruce and Stephen, his own curiosity tempered by a flicker of unease. Stephen, for his part, exhaled slowly, setting his fork down deliberately. "Yes," he said, his tone calm but measured. "I can."
Bruce leaned forward slightly, his hands gripping the edge of the couch. "Then do it."
Stephen's expression remained neutral, but there was a sharpness in his gaze as he studied Bruce. "I don't recommend it."
Bruce frowned, his tone hardening. "Why not? You did it to Blonsky."
"Because you're not Blonsky," Stephen said firmly. "And the Hulk isn't just some creature you can cut off like an infected limb. He's part of you—your psyche, your very being. Locking him away would be like locking away a piece of your soul."
Bruce's jaw tightened, his voice rising slightly. "He's a monster. A danger to everyone around me. I can't control him. He's not some... 'part of my soul.' He's a curse."
Stephen's calm façade faltered slightly, his brows knitting together as he leaned forward in his chair. "You think I don't understand?" His voice was quiet, but intense. "I've seen men torn apart by forces they couldn't control. I've seen them fight to suppress those forces, to lock them away, only to destroy themselves in the process. You don't understand what you're asking me to do, Bruce. And if you think it'll make you whole, you're wrong."
Bruce shook his head, his frustration evident. "You don't know what it's like to have something inside you that you can't control. Something that hurts people."
Stephen's gaze hardened, his voice dropping to a dangerous calm. "Don't assume you're the only one who's fought that battle."
Tony, sensing the tension reaching its breaking point, raised a hand. "Whoa, whoa. Okay, let's all take a deep breath here. Nobody's locking anyone or anything away right now." He looked at Stephen. "Right?"
Stephen didn't break eye contact with Bruce, his voice softening but remaining firm. "I won't do it. Not because I can't, but because I won't be responsible for breaking you more than you already are."
Bruce flinched at the words, his expression shifting from anger to something more fragile—an uncomfortable mix of vulnerability and fear. He slumped back against the couch, rubbing his temples. "You don't get it," he muttered. "I've tried everything. Meditation, isolation, treatments—none of it works."
"And maybe it won't," Stephen admitted, his tone quieter now. "But locking the Hulk away isn't the answer. He's not just some disease to cure, Bruce. He's a part of you, whether you like it or not. You have to find a way to coexist with him, not bury him."
Bruce was silent for a long moment, his eyes fixed on the floor. Finally, he let out a shaky breath, his shoulders sagging. "You really think that's possible?"
Stephen leaned back slightly, his expression softening. "I do. But it won't be easy. And it won't happen overnight."
Tony, who had been watching the exchange with uncharacteristic quietness, cleared his throat. "So... what now? We all hug it out and talk about our feelings?"
Stephen shot him a dry look, and Bruce managed a faint, humorless chuckle. "I don't think I'm quite there yet."
Tony shrugged, picking up his chopsticks again. "Well, whenever you are, you know where to find us. And by 'us,' I mean Stephen, because I don't do emotional support." He paused, smirking. "But hey, if you want to borrow the cat, that's negotiable."
Stephen rolled his eyes, but there was a faint hint of amusement in his expression. "Bruce," he said, his tone steady but kind. "Rest for now. You've been through enough for one day. We'll figure this out. Together."
Bruce hesitated, his gaze flickering between Stephen and Tony, before finally nodding. "Thanks," he said quietly, leaning back against the couch.
Stephen stood, brushing off his hands. "And now, if you'll excuse me, I'd like to finish my dinner before any more gamma-related crises interrupt my evening."
Tony grinned, raising his glass. "To a gamma-free dinner. Cheers."
As Stephen sat back down at the table, he allowed himself a small smile. However, Stephen's gaze lingered on Bruce for a moment, his expression softening as he considered the weary man slumped on the couch. There was something in Bruce's eyes—a mixture of exhaustion and desperation—that struck a chord with him. Finally, he spoke, his tone measured but carrying an undercurrent of genuine concern.
"You know," Stephen began, breaking the silence, "there's a place that might be able to help you."
Bruce looked up, his brow furrowing. "What place?"
"Kamar-Taj," Stephen said simply. "It's where I trained in the mystic arts. It's... not your typical kind of help, I'll admit, but it might be exactly what you need."
Bruce's skepticism was immediate, his expression darkening as he sat up straighter. "Mystic arts? Magic? You're seriously sitting there and telling me that's real?"
Stephen didn't flinch at the disbelief in Bruce's voice. Instead, he folded his arms, his gaze steady. "Yes, I'm telling you it's real."
Bruce let out a sharp laugh, shaking his head. "Come on. Magic? I've seen a lot of crazy things, but I draw the line at that. I'm a scientist. I deal in facts, in proof. Not... whatever this is."
Stephen sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Do I look like someone who has the time or patience to peddle fairy tales to you? Bruce, you've turned into a giant green monster because of gamma radiation, but magic is where you draw the line?"
Bruce hesitated, his mouth opening and closing like he wanted to argue but couldn't quite form the words.
"Exactly," Stephen said firmly, leaning forward. "You've seen enough to know the universe isn't as straightforward as you thought. Science and magic aren't as different as you think—they're just two sides of the same coin. And the sooner you stop trying to shove everything into neat little boxes, the sooner you'll figure out how to deal with... that." He gestured toward Bruce, implying both the man and the Hulk within.
Bruce frowned, his hands resting on his knees as he stared down at the floor. "Even if I believed you—which I'm not saying I do—what would a place like this... Kamar-Taj... even do for me? I don't need a magician pulling rabbits out of hats. I need a cure."
"Kamar-Taj isn't about parlor tricks," Stephen said, his tone growing sharper. "It's about understanding yourself. Your limits, your potential, your balance. You think the Hulk is some separate entity you can just cut out, but it's not that simple. He's part of you. And until you accept that, you're going to keep fighting him—and losing."
Bruce flinched slightly at Stephen's words, but quickly masked it with a scowl. "And you're saying this... place... will fix that?"
"I'm saying it can help you understand it," Stephen replied, his voice softening again. "Look, I'm not promising a miracle. But Kamar-Taj is a place for healing and clarity. It's where people go when they've lost their way. And let's be honest, Bruce—you're lost."
Bruce's jaw clenched, his eyes narrowing. "I don't need some mystical retreat. I need answers that make sense."
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