Tony did not know how to react to the hug at first, so his arms hung limply at his sides for a moment before he returned the embrace, albeit not quite so passionately. He watched Bruce wipe his eyes, the concern writ clearly on his face. "Tell me," he said firmly.
When Bruce mentioned the stones, Tony stiffened. He was aware of them, of course. Thor was supposed to be looking into why they had been resurfacing lately, but he never returned. Even here, when Tony asked him about what he had found in his search, Thor admitted to having come up empty, though he had gotten sidetracked, policing the Nine Realms. And now here they were again. So they had been on to something.
He listened in silence, both to let Bruce say what he needed to say, but also because Tony was speechless himself. It was surreal. He heard what Bruce was saying, but he had no memory of it himself. It was like his very worst nightmare, the one that had ruined his sleep for months after New York and again after Wanda. It was like watching the world fall apart around him and being powerless to stop it, to fix it, to avenge it. After all his planning, all his preparations, it had not been good enough. He had not been good enough.
He turned away from Bruce, focusing instead on the empty doorway as his mind raced. He began making a fist with his left hand, then releasing it, over and over again. The arm had begun shaking halfway through Bruce's story and he grabbed his left wrist with his right hand and squeezed, trying to get it to stop. He felt heavy, as if the weight of Bruce's memories were crushing him. He needed to get out of there.