Another fic inspired by another fic. This time it was Could He? by wesome. Just the idea of Bruce being able to communicate with the Hulk. And as far as the comics and cartoons go, I think it's happened before. But after some more thought, another supposedly original idea came to me( not that wesome's story was bad- very sweet if you ask me). But Loki explains that part later on. I won't spoil it for now.

You may notice that Loki is a member of the avengers now. This was made possible through a story of my own, Repentance. Sadly that story is not complete, but I will get to it eventually. In the meantime, check it out if you like. I don't mind. :)

The Avengers is owned by Stan Lee and Jack Kirby. Could He? is owned by wesome. I hope you all enjoy the show!

Enlightenment

Everyone has a morning routine- a process with which to wash away the groggy weight of a too deep sleep and prepare for the day's demands. Steve was one of the few with enough discipline to perform a few exercises and stretches to pump the flow of his blood. After a quick shower (and maybe an aspirin if he had a bit too much fun the prior night), Tony would be picking the favored of his designer clothes and colognes. Natasha divided her time in the bathroom: one part before and one part after breakfast. Much more convenient for the other occupants, as well as the lady herself. But whatever the length or process, everyone within the tower would accumulate to the kitchen for coffee, pop tarts, and for any other food items produced that morning (always changing depending on who had the duty of cooking). Currently the redhead stood at the stove, flipping pancakes, dotted with various ingredients such as blueberries, strawberry bits and chocolate chips. A half full pot of coffee sat on the counter. Tony, Clint and Steve sat at the table, conversing some and munching on steaming, hot, delicious breakfast. The morning was another fine one in stark tower. Sadly, not for all of them.

Bruce staggered into the room with a stack of folders and notes tucked loosely under his arm, hardly noticing that he had banged his shoulder on the frame of the door. Wrinkled sweatpants, an askew t-shirt, and a mussed mop of hair sagged on his already deflated form. The reddened slits for eyes were not even necessary for one to tell that sleep had been a tease that night. Dr. Banner pulled up a chair, set down the papers, folded his arms and rested his forehead.

Clint, a morning person, couldn't help but notice Bruce's odd behavior. "Hey," greeted the archer with a friendly poke. "What's up?"

A groan sounded.

"I'm sorry, what?" Clint leaned in.

"Coffee. . ."

The blonde leaned back. "Well, you should'a come down earlier. Tasha makes a pretty mean cup of coffee. It's old by now so-"

Bruce turned his head slowly and replied with a green tinted glare.

"So I'll warm up some for ya. Sound good?"

The scientist closed his eyes again.

"Alrighty then. I'm on it."

As Clint rummaged in the cabinets for a mug, Steve moved his chair as to give Bruce a bit of much needed space. Tony, on the other hand, scootched his seat a little closer. Of course he knew sleep deprivation better then anyone, on anyone and in any form. This had to be the worst case he viewed yet. "You alright bro," he questioned cautiously.

Bruce rolled his head again to look at the man. One grunt and he pushed himself up to lean back into the chair. "The other guy," yawned Bruce. "I thought I had control, but I think I'm losing it. Couldn't sleep last night. . ."

"Because he was keeping you up?"

Bruce nodded. Tony blinked. Since the scientist mentioned it, other details presented themselves. Tony noticed smudges of dirt on Bruce's skin. Fir needles and sticker-bugs had been caught in his hair and a scent of pine hung gently about him. Bruce cringed at the sound of ceramic scraping across the wooden table. But he was thankful nonetheless- a cup of black coffee sat in front of him, a ribbon of steam slowly dancing upward. The fresh stain on his papers didn't seem to bother him. "Thanks. . ." The first sip was sputtered back into the cup in alarm. Bruce stared down into the liquid with wide eyes. "Holy crap that's strong." Squeezing his eyes shut he took a full gulp. "Exactly what I need. Thanks, Mrs. Romanoff."

"Uh-huh," replied the woman, flipping another pancake with a markman's precision. "You want food?"

"Not for now. Just the coffee."

"M'kay."

"So where'd you go," asked Tony. "And why to you think he's so antsy all of a sudden?"

"I don't remember." Bruce's tone was suddenly as dark as the drink in his cup. "I could at least get a few snatches of whatever the other guy did during the invasion. But last night I got nothing. Or the night before that."

"Or the one before that?"

"And the search for Loki too. . ." The scientist took another sip of his coffee. "It took me a very long time to get control of the other guy. What if I can't do it again?"

"Sir," chimed in Jarvis. "Mr. Loki seems to be having a bit of trouble locating the kitchen and refuses to accept my directions. The only other solution is for one of you to lead him in person."

Rogers stood. "I'll find him. Where is he?"

"Twenty-first floor, Mr. Rogers."

"Thanks." And the man left.

"You're over-thinking this too much," stated Barton. "Maybe the Hulk was freaked out by the invasion, too. We all were and still are. Maybe he'll calm down eventually."

"I don't like 'eventually'. . ."

"Maybe's the guy's got a point, Brucey. If you've gone a year without an incident, you've got enough self control to get past this."

The scientist looked to Clint, then Tony. For a moment Dr. Banner was silent, staring intently at his mug. "I don't think so." He tightened his grip in the container. "Yes, I went a year without any. . .unfortunate accidents. But I can't contain him all the time- that I know for sure. That and the incidents weren't caused by any of the normal triggers. I can't control what I can't predict."

"Normal triggers?"

"Anger, fear, injury- anything that speeds my heart rate."

Clint blinked. Slowly he reached for the mug and took a hold of the handle. Bruce jerked the cup away. "No," he pouted. "This doesn't count."

"But that's caffeine." Clint pulled again.

"And I'm still tired." Bruce pulled back.

"Give it."

"No."

"C'mon."

"No."

"Dangit, Bruce!"

The scientist snarled, a faint radioactive glow in his eyes. Clint released the cup. Bruce turned his seat around, fingers curled possessively around his coffee. He sipped with shifty eyes. Clint smacked his palm to his forehead. "Don't worry," reassured Tony. "It's probably him more that the Hulk."

"You'd better be right. And weren't you scared about that happening just a little bit ago?"

Bruce turned his head over his shoulder. The hurt was evident. "But I didn't get any sleep last night."

"Then go back to sleep."

"We have work to do today."

"Then do it later."

"I got too much though."

A soft clap on Bruce's shoulder silenced him quick. The other two went quiet as well. "Hop to that work, then," stated Natasha. "Get done what you can today and take a break when you need it. I'm sure Tony'll happily pick up what little slack you have at the end of the day. You understand, right?"

Clint nodded with Tony despite not being a part of the plan. Bruce stood up. "I'll get cleaned up then. See you in the lab, Tony." With that the man left.

"Guess that's our ques, too." Tony stood. "Let's get to it. Busy day and there's a lot of stuff to do-"

"COMRADES! THE POP TARTS HAVE DISAPPEARED!"

". . .Like buying more pop tarts for Thor." Tony maybe blinked and Natasha and Clint had vanished. Thor came into the room, urgently demanding a replenished supply of the packaged treats. And so the work began for the Avengers.

Breakline

Productivity had been hindered quite a bit. More than once did Bruce need a moment to rub his eyes and stretch out. But that wasn't to say work wasn't done. Some enemy analysis here, a report there and Bruce had a sufficient handful of information for Director Fury to look over. The scientist looked about the lab for Tony, but the man was nowhere to be found. Puzzled, Bruce stood up. He checked around the corners and out into the hallways. Still no Tony to be found. "Jarvis," called Banner. "You wouldn't happen to know where Tony went, would you?"

"Sir was last seen in the basement, searching for printer paper for the reports."

"Right. Thanks, Jarvis."

"The pleasure is mine, Dr. Banner."

Down the elevator and through some rooms, Bruce was getting closer to the room Tony was searching in. Each hallway had been painted on color- a light, almost periwinkle-like blue. Losing your way was not uncommon, but fortunately Bruce had spent enough time in the tower to be able to navigate it's labyrinthine rooms, stairs and elevators. Reaching the basement storage room was not difficult.

But just before he reached the room, Bruce heard sounds from a room he passed. The man stopped and pressed his ear to the wall. Grunting. And rough pats of sound. A door stood not too far away. Bruce peered inside. The training gym. While weights and punching bags had been ignored, the red wrestling mats in the middle were occupied by two men: Steve. . .and Loki? Bruce had forgotten his purpose for coming down and pushed the door open. He walked closer. Indeed, Rogers was instructing the recruit in the basics of hand-to-hand combat. "Use your whole body when dealing a blow," explained the captain, gently guiding Loki with his hands to pivot the smaller body body in a slow motion jab. "You become more powerful when every part is working together." Loki nodded. Steve walked to a corner of the mat and slid two punching pads on his hands. The blonde held up both. "Start off slow."

"For form," stated the smaller.

"Exactly. Gimme a jab."

Loki squared off his feet, fists up and leaning forward slightly (as Steve had instructed before Bruce's entrance). Extending his arm and turning his body, the jotun's fist hit the pad.

"One more time."

Loki complied.

"Remember to exhale with every hit. Jab, cross."

The trainee forced puffs of air out of his nose as he dealt both punches, turning on the ball of his foot for the second.

"Again. Add a hook."

Bruce took a seat to watch, immersed in the display. What a sight to see Loki taking orders from someone other than himself. But the real beauty- the real wonder- was in the sweat and hard work Loki was putting into his training. Beads of sweat raced down his icy blue skin- a sign of the jotun's focus. The blows stacked up. Loki quickened his pace. Steve swung the pads in a flat arc. The smaller ducked low, fists still guarding his face. Weariness took over for a moment. Bruce leaned forward as Loki slouched and let his arms swing to his sides. "Does it hurt," asked Steve.

A nod.

"Pain is the reason to get back up. Weakness leaving the body, pouring out of you like a monsoon. Can you feel it? Like shedding an old skin and getting stronger?"

The jotun looked up. Bruce listened intently.

"You're rising from your own ashes, Loki. That isn't something to give up on, especially not for you."

Quiet. Loki clenched his fists, gritted his teeth. He charged with an arms pulled back. "Hraaagh!" More blows were made. Steve staggered back a step or two but kept the pads up. Bruce stood up to get a closer look, to marvel at this fresh display of power and precision. How frightening- the strength, the agility, the fresh fire that burned so viciously.

"Don't give up," shouted Steve. Very strange to see him this intense as well. "You can be a fighter, too! Thirty seconds! Don't give up!"

The smaller snarled through his teeth. Another hard punch. Bruce forgot to close his mouth, but somehow remembered he still held the papers and reports, hugging them tight to his chest.

"Twenty seconds! Don't stop!"

Loki was giving it his all, even as his arms began to wilt again. That small man was tearing himself down only to be rebuild again.

"Ten seconds!"

With so much effort, surely there was not an ounce of room for shame.

"Three!"

Loki bit his lip. A few beads of sweat flew off as an uppercut was thrown.

"Two!"
No doubt the burn was a horrid one. Bruce could remember his own early training in Brazil. C'mon, keep going, he pleaded quietly.

"One!"

Don't give up, comrade!

"Time!"

Loki stopped, dropping his arms and breathing heavy.

"Good job. Shake out your arms and get some water. One lap around the room and a good stretch says you're done."

Boy was the blue man grateful for that. He stretches his arms across his chest as he walks towards a corner of the mat. Bruce watched them and smiled. He really is trying hard to be a part of the team. And what a warming thought that was, like a flower growing through a crack in the concrete. The scientist smiled to himself.

"Gngh!"

In a split second Bruce found himself on the ground, fists clenched in his hair and papers scattered across the floor. The tremulous pounding in his chest, the tightening airways, the searing burn that mauled every nerve in his body- there was no doubt about it. I have to get out of here! Eyes swimming with green, the poor man tried to pull himself back up, but a new stab of utter power knocked him down again. Power that his small body couldn't handle. Bruce's ears were flooded with a threatening roar and the sound of rushing blood. His skin burned. His vision blurred. Bones and muscles were shifting and expanding at an alarming rate. "No," screamed the man. "Stop! Stop it!" But the screams began to meld into animal grunts.

Stop!

And as if his wish were granted, time froze. In that moment, two details articulated themselves in the storm of madness and savagery. One was a pair of glowing blood-red eyes. The glare paralyzed both Bruce and the Hulk it seemed. The next was a command. A single haunting, yet mesmerizing utterance, like a minor chord.

"Sleep."

The green had faded into black. Bruce didn't even feel the other guy fade enough to make sure the others would be secure before he reluctantly fell into a heavy slumber.

Breakline

Waking up was about as gradual as falling asleep- being not at all. Every sound and light hit Bruce like a train. Why did his peace and quiet have to go? There was a low growl in the back of his mind and the man's eyes flew open. He sat up bolt right and immediately his surroundings spun. Pain stabbed Bruce hard and he couldn't help but whimper. The man began to fall, but never hit the floor. He blinked. The swirl of his surroundings started to rearrange itself into its proper form. A bright sunset plowed through a wall made entirely of windows. Other parts of the room consisted of a plasma screen, a plant in the corner, and various pieces of furniture scattered about. The too strong odor of cologne found it's way up his nose. Bruce looked up. "Tony?"

"Welcome back, big guy."

Bruce sat up, one hand on his friend's shoulder for support. Not only had Tony stayed by his side, but the rest of the team as well. Natasha, Clint, Thor, Tony, Steve- even Loki decided to take watch. The jotun turned his head and pouted, folding his arms. "I was weary when I cast my spell," he stated. "I was only here to make sure it kept you down. No if you'll all excuse me, I need to bathe." Loki stormed out of the room.

"He'll get lost again," muttered Natasha.

"You alright, soldier," asked Steve. "You started hulking out on us in the training gym. It's a good thing Loki put you down when he did."

"They said you were having a really hard time with it too," commented Clint. "You were right when you said you were losing control."

Bruce rubbed his eye, head hung in shame. Snatches of the event slowly filtered back in. "Did I hurt anyone," he asked.

"I am pleased to confirm that there were no casualties to asses, Dr. Banner," sounded Jarvis. "Would you like a stream of footage of the incident?"

"That won't be necessary, Jarvis," interjected Tony.

"The tower is right, friend" stated Thor. "You did not kill or injure your fellow teammates. We are all sound and unharmed."

"Um, Mr. Odinson? I'm not actually the tow-"

"Fear not, Jarvis the tower, for we accept you as one of our own!"

The scientist attempted a smile. "Thanks you guys. For watching out for me. I really appreciate it."

"It's what we do, bro!" Tony threw up a thumb. "There's no need to thank us, you know."

Bruce chuckled. "Yeah. . ."

"Well, I'm hungry" Natasha stood from her seat on the armchair. "I don't know about you guys, but I'm getting food."

"That's a pretty good plan," commented Clint, following the woman.

"Good plan of attack for the fridge?"

"I get that joke!"

"Wow. Really Tony?"

"Yeah, really. Someone call reindeer games down. Better yet, go find him again, Steve. You're the only one he listens to."

"Alright then. . ."

One by one they all filed out. The door shut. Bruce remained on the couch he had been lain on. The door opened. Tony peered in. "Hey, you commin? Everyone's talking about ordering chinese food. Even Loki will have to eat seconds. It's a pretty hot debate though. You want to put in an opinion?"

Bruce smiled. "Thanks, but I'm not really that hungry right now. I'll come down later and get what everyone else gets, ok? Don't worry about me. I'll be alright."

Bruce didn't expect Tony to trust him after what had happened. But the man gave a nod, a "see ya" and left the room. Bruce leaned back and folded his arms. His friend had probably ordered Jarvis to keep an eye on him. And sure enough a camera had started to adjust its lense. The quiet had finally come back, but it was unsettling. The other guy was strangely silent as well. Bruce didn't like that, especially not after today. He had been calm that entire time. Giddy, maybe, and interested, but nothing to trigger a change.

"Is there anything you request, Dr. Banner," the A.I. inquired.

The doctor thought for a moment. "Draw the blinds."

The plastic fabric slid down automatically. The sun disappeared like an eye behind it's lid. Faint streaks of light leaked in between the blinds. Bruce brought his feet up on the couch and hugged up his knees.

"Anything else?'

"What time is it?"

"6:37 pm, Dr. Banner."

"Thanks, Jarvis. That's all I need for now."

"It is my pleasure, Dr. Banner. Please inform me of any other needs that cross your mind."

The quiet returned. The sunlight started to fade. Bruce was left to quell his torrent of thoughts on his own as a low growl sounded in the dark of his mind.

Breakline

Thor. Haha. :) Hope the comedy doesn't ruin it though. . .

Please, bare with me. I promise that it will get better. This is just an exposition, but there was some rising action too, in my defense. Repentance will get some work on it, too. Wish me luck, ok? And review too! I want to know what I need to improve on so I can write good stories for all of you, not just for me. So I'll see you all next time! Thanks for reading!

-Magician Irono