Chapter Text
The wind is howling, brushing against the navy cotton curtains.
It’ll be autumn soon.
Tony lounges on a velvet armchair. His dark brown hair is combed to the side, a strand falling in front of his face; a design choice. In his hands is Gotham’s Gazette’s weekly newspaper. On the cover, it mentions Batman’s sidekick, Robin. So it's about that time, huh?
Bruce stands by the window, his back facing towards his elder brother. If it weren’t the tremble in his frame, it would've given off the air as tall and imposing.
”You knew.” Bruce states, his tone all too sure of himself. The moonlight casts a glow to his figure. There is a deep crease on his forehead from the furrow of his brows.
“I know a lot of things, you’ll have to be more specific.” Tony answers, the end of his sentence tilts into a teasing tone. He flips to the next page of the Gotham Gazette.
Bruce grumbles. His eyes never stray from his reflection on the window.
Tony laughs, to the displeasure of his younger brother. “You never change.” He mentions, although that is not true. Bruce has changed a lot these past years, taking up the mantle of Batman and all. Bruce was never the same after witnessing his parent’s death.
But Tony isn’t referring to his brother Bruce Wayne. He’s talking about Batman in the DC comics he grew up reading in New York. His brother’s personality hasn’t diverged from the comics. Though Tony didn’t do anything to help with that. He’s an absent brother.
The younger Wayne frowns. How can Tony act like nothing happened? It’s like he is incapable of reading the tension in the room. Their relationship took a hit after their parents’ death. Yet here he is having a casual conversation with him with a teasing lilt in his voice.
“Batman.”
“Aaah the giant crime stopping furry. Big fan.” Tony places his newspaper down on the side table. He props his elbow on the arm of the chair and rests his chin in the palm of his hands. His gaze burns into the back of Bruce’s head. “Did you want his autograph? Just say the word and your big brother will get it for you.”
A deep drawn out sigh escapes from Bruce’s lips. His shoulders deflate. ”Enough.”
”Hm? Can I leave now? It’s a bit stuffy.” The man with brown hair hooks his index finger around the collar of his button up to exaggerate the poor air flow. His tie lays undone around his neck.
“I cancelled your flight to New York.” Bruce admits. He doesn’t have to turn around for Tony to know he’s sporting a guilty look in his eye.
”I know. I checked my email.” Tony says, his fingers thrumming a beat against his knee. “Enough of that brooding. Let’s grab dinner. On your dime.” Tony smirks, though his words are just a tease. They both know they won't be able to get out the door without Alfred stopping them. Not that Tony minds.
It’s been too long since he had Alfred’s cooking. It’ll be years before he tastes it again.
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Tony was ten years old when his life flipped upside down.
He’s always had a weird case of déjà vu. His mother chalked it up to clairvoyance, stating his grandmother had it as well. Though it only applied to pregnancy dreams.
Days before his parents left for the theater with Bruce, he fell ill with a fever. Everything became clear. He had reincarnated as Bruce Wayne’s eldest brother. Those moments of “clairvoyance” were because he was a huge fan of the Batman comics as Tony Stark. Tony believes the fever was just his body trying to adjust from the overload of memories of his previous life.
The day of his parents death, he pretended to still be under the weather, prolonging his stay in bed. They went on without him, wishing him a nice rest and a promise of dinner as a family.
Back then, he had thought ‘If he had gone, what would become of Batman?’
He made himself sick at that thought. Why was he willing to sacrifice his parents just to follow the plot? He felt immense guilt at the fact that he could have prevented it yet hadn’t.
The people surrounding him were alive and very real. Yet Tony had treated their existence as just comic book characters.
He distanced himself from everyone. Knowing the future is a heavy burden. How can he laugh with Bruce while he knows every obstacle he’ll face? Hell, he even knows his inner monologue.
It's disturbing.
There are times when he wishes Dr. Strange erased his memories of the life he once lived.
If there’s one thing he never learned in either of his lives, it is healthy coping. He drowns his grief with alcohol and drugs. He makes headlines every weekend, there are compilations of him on the forums being rude to paparazzi. He is involved in dating scandals that leave him blindsided. How did they even come to be? He’s loyal to Pepper, even while they are universes apart.
He comes the worst version of himself. And there’s no Pepper this time. When he was younger, he took an art class to be able to draw her portrait. They are scattered across his apartment, her face brings him at ease.
When he’s twenty-two, Bruce compiles a file of multiple videos and pictures of Tony’s worst drunk moment and titles it ‘embarrassing.’ It’s their first interaction besides brushes of the shoulder as they walk past each other. It’s enough to make Tony go off grid and get some help from a medical professional.
He spends most of his days in New York, seeking for a glimpse of a certain Spider-Man.
Until he is called back by Bruce Wayne. He doesn’t question him. Not with Jason’s death looming around the corner.
Tony has to make it right this time.