Disclaimer: I do not make a profit off of this. I do not own the Avengers or any of the Avengers characters. I only own what I write.

Chapter one: Memento Vivere

He took a deep breath, in, out. He could smell the low tide. And as the waves came, change came with them. Under the encouragement of his therapist Bruce had bought a house on a small island off the east coast. He had bought a new life. That's what he thought as he stared up at the double story house. It was perfect. Quiet. The backyard was the ocean and gulls. Both of which could be heard in the distance along with the waves lapping at the rocks. The creamy ivory exterior paint was chipping from age and would need to be painted over, but Bruce couldn't care less, he saw it as a welcome challenge. And as he entered the house and set down his duffel bag he knew he had made the right decision. It was like everything snapped into place.

That afternoon Bruce was on the first floor surrounded by cardboard moving boxes and half-unpacked items. The floor boards at the entrance creaked-something Bruce had decided he wouldn't change since he liked the warning it gave.

"Are you the new doc?" a decidedly male voice called from inside the house.

He looked over his shoulder from where he was sitting on his haunches. He saw a medium build man with sandy blonde hair and pale green eyes.

"I am," he said as he straightened up from the box he was crouched in front of, "is, uh, is something wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong." The man took a step closer, brilliant smile lighting his face, "I'm the neighbor down the way." he said by way of introduction.

"I didn't think I had any neighbors." Bruce deadpanned.

"Well, we're not neighbors exactly, but I'm the closest thing you have; I live half a mile up the road." the man replied, "I heard from a friend that my new neighbor was a doctor; which is great by the way. Since our last doctor moved I thought we were out of luck."

"I'm sorry. How did your friend...?" Bruce had a bewildered look on his face.

"Natasha." the man filled in what Bruce could only assume was the friend's name, "And she knows everything. Besides it's a small island. Word gets around fast."

"Ah." Bruce said.

"I'm Clint by the way." he held his hand out. Bruce took it and received a firm handshake in turn.

"Soo," Clint drawled, "You bought the house. It's a bit of a fixer upper ya know?"

Bruce nodded.

"Did the real estate agent tell you about the roof?" Clint asked.

"No." Bruce said, "What's wrong with the roof?"

"Oh wow." Clint's eyebrows rose in disbelief, "Okay. The hot water?"

"No." his eyebrows were now drawing together in concern, bewilderment and worry.

Clint smiled wryly at Bruce before he chuckled.

"The hot water is kind of touchy. Until it's fixed if anyone on the south side of the island flushes the toilet you're going to get scalded. And the roof has a couple leaks is all. I'm a carpenter so I could patch them up for you no problem, if you want that is."

The man, Clint, was scratching his head and looking up at Bruce from under his lashes in what seemed to Bruce to be a sincere gesture.

"Yeah, uhm, yeah. That'd be..." Bruce stuttered.

"Don't worry." Clint said, "I could do it free of charge. As a sort of welcoming gift. You'd just have to buy the equipment."

"That won't be-" Bruce started but his objections were easily brushed off by the other man, his neighbor, Clint.

Clint smiled easily, "I could start tomorrow if you want."

Bruce nodded, bewilderment apparent in his voice. "That'd be...yeah. That'd work." he breathed a chuckle.

It seemed Clint had a strong will, and Bruce just didn't have the heart to argue. Not to mention he didn't know how to fix a roof and actually paying a carpenter would be more than Bruce could afford.

Clint smiled at Bruce and he found himself smiling back. They stood there staring at each other for a couple seconds, Bruce with a perplexed look on his face, before Clint spoke up abruptly.

"Well, welcome to town." he said, "I should go. Let you unpack."

As he left, Bruce thought how he had only been in this town for half a day and already he had made a sort-of friend.

Later that day Bruce went to the local grocery store to stock up his refrigerator. The man at the cash register was the exemplification of the boy-next-door type. He looked like he might just be in his early twenties. He introduced himself as Steve Rogers, though it was hardly needed since Bruce could see his name tag. Nevertheless Bruce smiled and introduced himself back. It was strange seeing recognition cross the man's face as he asked shyly if Bruce was the new doctor, to which he answered affirmatively. It was also strange how Steve insisted he help Bruce with his bags. But since he had actually bought a lot he didn't argue and he handed over two of his four paper bags and showed him to his moped. Both Steve and Bruce frowned when they realized the transportation problem.

"I..." Bruce frowned at himself, "I'll have to make another trip I suppose."

Steve seemed affronted at this idea, because just as soon as Bruce said it he gave him a horrified expression and said, "Thor can take you to your house. We do grocery runs all the time."

Bruce blinked in bemusement, "But won't you get fired for wasting the stores gas or something?"

"It won't be a problem at all." Steve grinned warmly at him, "His father owns the store."

"If it's really no problem..." Bruce really didn't want to do two runs back and forth.

"I insist. It'd be horrible business to allow one of our customers to make two trips." Steve said it so sincerely Bruce believed him. They packed his moped onto the back of the truck and Bruce got into the passenger seat.

Thor was...interesting. He was apparently from Europe initially but decided to stay in America when he came to visit one of his father's store branches. Bruce found it impossible to not smile around the man, he was a jovial, if childish, ray of happiness. Thor was so honest it was a little jarring while at the same time being refreshing. They ended up talking about whatever topics entered Thor's head. Bruce got to ask about what there was to do around town and got some very informative answers, so all and all it was a pretty good first day. When they arrived Thor got out with him and looked up at the house.

"Delightful house." Thor exclaimed.

Bruce looked up with him and believed him. He looked closer than Thor did; at the golden plaque he had nailed to the exterior of the house just that morning. It read, "Bruce Banner, MD" on one line with "Family Practice" engraved just below. That might be his favorite part about his house-right before the creak.

Clint was right about the hot water. Midway through his shower the next morning Bruce was suddenly sprayed with scolding water-to which he turned the hot water down and was rewarded with frigid ice water. He was going to have to call a handyman as soon as his business picked up.

The next few days business was slow, nonexistent even-meaning it actually was nonexistent. As Clint worked on the roof they became closer. Bruce sat on the porch and talked to Clint about anything, occasionally handing him tools. They talked about where they had been before they moved to the island-Clint apparently had come from New York also, though a different part. Bruce learned that Clint had come to follow a girl but it hadn't worked out and she'd left and he'd stayed. Bruce gave a vague response when Clint asked why he came himself, simply saying he needed change. Clint didn't seem to mind. Maybe that's why Bruce felt so relaxed around Clint; because he didn't delve too deep but still seemed to understand. Clint even convinced Bruce to become less suspicious of the town's citizens generosity until finally he accepted that people on this small island genuinely wanted to help each other without asking anything in return. An idea that was so foreign after living in the city for so long.

He didn't know what it was about this island... Maybe it was that since he arrived people had only been nice, but he just felt like he clinked into place. Like he'd found his place.

By the fifth day Bruce got his first patient. He was sitting in his office, a small corner of the house he had sectioned off for his practice, when a older woman stepped in asking if the doctor was in. The woman was maybe five foot two with thin bones. She appeared to be in her seventies with silver hair. She wore glasses and a floral cardigan over his dress.

Bruce stood up, "Yes, I'm the doctor."

"Ah." the woman said before looking around the office, "I don't have an appointment...is that alright?"

Bruce's lip quirked, "I think I can squeeze you in." He said wryly as he picked up his clipboard and grabbed a pen from his lab coat pocket.

"Just what do you think is wrong?" he asked as he directed her towards the patients bed.

"At my age what isn't?" the woman asked with a small smile. Bruce returned the smile.

"Well miss..."

"Winnie Westbrook. Winnie please."

Bruce nodded and scribbled it down, "Winnie. What seems to be the problem?"

"I think my blood pressure is too high. I had a headache the other day."

Bruce grabbed the blood pressure cuff off his desk and brought it over to Miss Westbrook. After pushing her sleeves up he wrapped it snuggly around her arm, just an inch above the crook of her elbow.

"Are there any other complaints Miss Westbrook?" Bruce asked as he pumped up her cuff.

"Well," she drawled as she reached behind her with her free arm, "Since you asked. I..."

Later that day Clint came by with a smile.

"Hey, Bruce!" he called in, just as the floor creaked below him. The creak was instantly followed by, "You need to get that floorboard fixed." as Clint poked his head into Bruce's office.

Bruce smiled to himself, "I like it." he simply replied.

Clint rolled his eyes, probably knowing why, before he broke into another smile. It seemed to be the most natural for him.

"So are business hours over?" he quipped.

"Hardy har har." Bruce said, "Did you come here to mock me or do you need something?"

"Aw, don't be glum. Miss Westbrook is a frequent customer." Clint said, before sliding into the next topic fluently, "Anyway, I came here because a couple friends and I are going drinking tonight, figured I'd introduce the local recluse to a few people."

"How charitable of you." Bruce snarked.

"Come on Bruce. Tasha will be there."

"The town therapist and soviet spy? That's supposed to entice me?"

"Okay, forget what I said about her being a soviet spy." Clint replied, "She'd kill me if she heard I told you that."

Bruce raised his eyebrow as if to ask if that was supposed to convince him she wasn't a spy.

Clint paused for a second before he chuckled at himself, "Okay, okay. Forget what I just said. But you should come. Seriously. Tasha really wants to meet you. Steve and Thor will be there too. I hear you get along with them."

"How'd you-" Bruce started before he cut himself off, "Nevermind, small town. I know."

Clint smiled complacently, "Now you're catching on. I'll pick you up for dinner and beers around seven."

Bruce rolled his eyes, already knowing there was no way out of it, "Fine. Office closes in a few hours."

"Alright." Clint said as he went for the door.

"And wear something other than that damn lab coat." he called just as Bruce heard the floor creak and the door close.

A couple hours later Clint arrived on Bruce's doorstep with a leather jacket and faded jeans. When Bruce came out to meet him Clint shook his head disapprovingly.

"What?" Bruce asked indignantly. He looked down at himself. He had followed Clint's advice and taken off his lab coat.

"You scream professional." Clint clucked his tongue and slung his arm around Bruce, "Let's find you something that doesn't button up."

When Bruce reemerged he was wearing a dark green shawl collar sweater over a white undershirt.

"Am I presentable now?" Bruce raised an eyebrow. He had thought he looked fine in the yellow dress shirt and didn't see how his sweater was any less formal.

"Yeah. We need to buy you something other than dress shirts. Later though. Now we have to go." Clint pulled him out the door and Bruce found himself staring at a eggplant colored four door.

"Never figured you for the Hyundai type." Bruce smirked.

"Can it Banner. It gets good gas mileage. Now get in before I leave you."

Bruce doubted Clint would leave him but he obeyed regardless and climbed in.

The ride over was short and comfortable. However as soon as Clint parked outside Memento Vivere's Bruce found himself smiling at the neon sign.

"Memento vivere." he whispered the bars name fondly. It was a phrase he was familiar with.

"What?" Clint looked at Bruce as they entered the bar, "Does it mean something to you?"

Bruce just smiled, "It's Latin."

"Shit you know Latin?" Clint blurted.

Bruce's lips quirked, that smirky-shy tilt that Clint couldn't help but love. "Some."

"So what's it mean?" Clint asked as he took a stool.

"Remember to live."

The bar was dimly lit and rustic feeling. It seemed to have a nautical theme. Bruce noticed an old buoy and thick nets decorating the ceiling. It was the kind of establishment you knew had been standing there for a long time. It was fairly popular too, with almost all the tables being full. Bruce could see a small stage complete with a microphone and some basic instruments in the far corner.

"Is this, ah, a karaoke bar?"

"Mm?" Clint looked over towards the stage. "Ah, no, well sort of. Fridays are karaoke nights. But every other night it's a live band."

"The island has a local band?" Bruce found this interesting.

Clint gave him a look, one that said 'really? we're not that small.'

Bruce realized how stupid a question that was and blushed in embarrassment. "Sorry." he mumbled.

Clint was about to say something when he noticed someone near the entrance of the bar.

"Tasha!" he called as he raised his hand. Bruce turned in his stool to see a redhead entering with Steve and Thor. He could only assume the woman was Natasha. She didn't quite look like a soviet spy but maybe that was the point-spies never really looked like spies. Their eyes locked, dark green to doe brown, and Bruce understood why she had become a therapist. She had eyes that seemed to see everything, even what people wanted hidden in their hearts. It was a little unsettling but was easily expelled by her cool smile. Clint met her half way and exchanged a few words as they came closer. Steve and Thor seemed happy to see Bruce, which if he was being honest with himself (and he tried to be) was a little shocking considering Bruce had only met them less than a week ago. But as Steve shook his hand genuinely and Thor patted his back good-naturedly Bruce didn't feel at all out of place.

Thor even greeted him by jovially not-quite-yet-shouting, "My friend. I am most pleased you joined us tonight."

Bruce found himself giving a sheepish smile, "Yeah. I'm glad I came also."

Steve joined in then, "So how's work going Doctor Banner?"

"Please." Bruce only became more embarrassed at the title, "Call me Bruce. And it's...slow."

"I'm sure it'll pick up in no time." Clint threw in, "I've been spreading the word around town."

This was news to Bruce.

Natasha, who Bruce hadn't noticed had slipped next to Clint two stools away, seemed just as surprised.

"And here I thought you had just been gossiping to all the older women about your neighbor being the cute new doctor." she said this with no influx of her voice, and only a dry eyebrow raise as a sign that she was teasing. Clint turned red and began sputtering, "I didn't say cute," nonetheless. Which only made Steve and Thor's laughter louder. Bruce chuckled even if he was dubious of the term cute being applied to him. Natasha just smirked proudly, a twinkle in her eye betraying her inner laughter.

As their waitress, a blonde young lady by the name of Alyssa (if her name tag was anything to go by), got to taking their orders Bruce noticed Steve was a little pinker than usual as she asked him his order. Something Clint (and undoubtedly Natasha) also picked up on-and commented on.

"Don't you think a crush on the waitress is a little cliche Steve? Even for you." Clint said, to which Steve only turned redder, cementing the intuition. It was understandable. From what Bruce collected she seemed polite and like a regular girl-next-door; just Steve's type. She was attractive, tall with long blonde hair and brownish-green eyes.

"Congratulations!" Thor boomed, sincerely happy for his friend, "This is a most endearing courtship my friend."

If Steve turned any redder a family of tomatoes were going to adopt him.

And as Alyssa returned with their orders and drinks Bruce was sure he saw her blush ever so slightly as she placed Steve's plate in front of him. It might not of helped that anyone who cared to listen could hear Clint and Thor teasing Steve about his crush. Or maybe it did help because as she pulled away and Steve and her locked eyes for a brief moment Bruce saw the corner of her lip pull up into a shy smile.

Bruce, unlike his friends with less control, waited until the girl was a far enough distance and preoccupied with other customers before he leaned in to Steve and whispered, "I think she likes you by the way."

Steve, who had been chewing his hamburger at the time, began to choke rather ungracefully.

Clint could be heard chirping, "Nice job, Bruce!" but Bruce decided to ignore him in favor of patting Steve's back.

Once Steve was breathing properly again he looked up into Bruce's eyes with the most hopeful, lost puppy-dog, baby blue eyes Bruce had ever seen.

"Do you really mean it?" he asked.

Bruce had to keep his face from melting into utter adoration. He doubted Steve would appreciate him patting his head and cooing at him.

He kept his face professional as he said simply what he had seen, "She was blushing as she gave you your plate and she smiled brighter at you then she did me or Clint or Thor."

A few different expressions passed Steve's face as he took this information in before it finally settled on nervous-happy.

Bruce found himself smiling as Steve turned a little to look over his shoulder at the waitress, who just happened to glance their way and smiled at him when their eyes met.

The rest of their dining passed smoothly with Clint and Thor arguing over their opinions on movies and popular music. Natasha would occasionally throw in her opinion when the conversation got too heated and it'd almost magically transition to another topic. Bruce had to respect that about her. He stayed quiet most of the time while they ate, content to just listen to the exchange.

Thor was the first one to order alcohol once the bar part of the restaurant-and-bar opened. He stuck to traditional beer from tap, as did Clint. Natasha ordered a colorful fruit drink with vodka in it. Steve was apparently the designated driver for Thor and Natasha. Bruce refused to drink with the excuse that he had to get him and Clint home somehow.

By the time Thor was on his second mug and Clint was halfway through his first the band started to come up to the stage. Three men and a woman came on. One for guitar, one for drums, and one at the keyboard. The woman came up to the microphone and tapped at it, producing a thumping sound. After a few moments of the band tuning their instruments they began to play. It was jazzy sounding, smooth, which is what the woman's voice sounded like as she sung of lost loves and new loves.

Bruce tried his best to ignore it. Love songs hadn't been good for him for some time now.

It wasn't until Thor's fifth round that the music stopped again and Bruce looked up to the stage. The band was walking off the stage for what must of been a break. However, after a few moments of an empty stage a man with chaotic dark chocolate hair came on stage with an elegant ginger-haired woman. Instantly Bruce's attention was drawn by the unknown man. Bruce found himself staring only to avert his eyes when the man almost caught his eye.

"Clint." Bruce whispered, "Who's...stage?"

"What?" Clint slurred just the slightest bit, "Sorry what'd you say? Didn't quite catch that."

"Who are the people who just walked onto the stage?" Bruce repeated, only slightly louder.

"Oh?" Clint looked at the stage before looking at Bruce again, "That's the owner of the bar, Tony Stark and his..." Clint's sentence trailed off. He didn't seem to have a word to describe her, or maybe he was just too drunk to think clearly. All the same he shrugged sloppily and finished with an unsatisfying, "his Pepper Potts. Why?"

Bruce didn't answer him. He probably couldn't answer if he wanted. The man had simply stood out. Already his mind was trying to logicize it as idle curiosity due to the man filling in for the band. He turned his attention back to the pair. He had picked up the guitar while Bruce had been looking away.

"This is called, Chances Are." the man, Tony, spoke into the microphone before he began strumming the guitar. Tony began the song alone; his voice was deep, almost raspy. After the opening chorus the woman, Pepper Potts, began and she was smooth and elegant. They sounded good together. The instrumental was unfamiliar but good.

Bruce didn't care much for the lyrics though. Another love song. He tuned out the specific words about love passing and coming and listened instead to the rhythms of the sentences and the voices.

Just as the man was setting his guitar down and the crowd began clapping Bruce was nudged in the rib by Clint's elbow.

"Hey," the green eyed man said, "What's up?"

A frown etched its way into Bruce's features as he remembered something from his past that the current situation seemed to summon. Of him in a bar staring at someone across the room when a college friend had nudged him.

"Nothing." Bruce replied as he cast one last glance to the singers just as they were disappearing into the back room where the band members had disappeared before.

Clint raised an eyebrow and glanced between Bruce and the door to the back room but said nothing more before he took another sip of beer. For that Bruce was infinitely grateful.

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