A/N: So this erupted from my head this morning. I've been mulling this over for the last few weeks and for some reason decided to have it's TADAH moment at 4am today.
My brain is STUUUUUUUUPID.
So I have a rough story planned out and this is story gonna be focused on the relationships between the various Avengers, plus a few interlopers from the comic-verse.
Warnings: Lots of swearing. Character toture. Things are going to get worse before they get better.
Thicker Than Water.
Chapter One: Ten minutes of regrets.
[Grand Central Station, New York City]
It was a bustling Thursday morning and Grand Central was fairly heaving with people, all of them moving in a hurried and not exactly graceful dance of avoidance. From one of the benches a man watched with a calm, amused look in his eyes, but his body was stiff and wary. Salt and pepper hair peaked out from beneath the baseball cap he had pulled down low on his head and his jacket collar was pulled high as to hide the majority of his face. A face that had become a lot more recognisable thanks a certain supposedly secret organisation going public with all their dirty little secrets.
And that had been the last thing Bruce had needed.
Act natural, keep your face hidden, stay low, don't compromise yourself.
He gave himself a mental shake and resisted the urge to laugh, he knew the rules. He'd done this so much it was all practically inherent to him by now; more of a reflex than a conscious action but he knew not to get complacent because as someone once quoted 'Security is mortals greatest enemy*.' In a gesture that looked absentminded but was in fact anything but the man picked up the newspaper beside him and unfolded it carefully before flicking to the near the back and pretending to read.
He hadn't wanted to take this chance but recent events had forced him between a rock and a hard place. With everything that had been going on he needed to get out of the country before someone either pushed their luck or tried to take advantage and he knew that the only way that was happening was with a fake ID. Something that he currently hadn't a chance in hell of affording on his own given his circumstances. Hopefully though he would find his salvation here, providing a certain billionaire philanthropist hadn't gone back on what he'd said.
Admittedly something Tony had every right in the world to do.
The physicist sighed as he shook the paper once again and wetted his fingers turning the thin page over as his thoughts delved back to months prior almost against his will. To that moment on the Helicarrier when everything had changed and he had asked Howard Stark if he wanted him to assist him in ending his life before the WSC or anyone else could manipulate or take advantage of him. The man; weak, frail and dying had said yes with the conviction of twenty men and Bruce had found himself awed, finally seeing the Howard Stark the world had so revered and possibly a glimpse of the father he could have been given more time.
Time that had run out.
The memory here became razor sharp in focus as he moved directly to Howard's side and pulled out the syringe containing the special sedative he'd concocted to bring down the Hulk in days gone by and explained what it was and exactly what he was going to do. The man had nodded resolutely and lay back on the bed in an attempt to get himself comfortable despite the obvious pain he was in. They were both choosing this path of their own free will but strangely enough for exceedingly similar reasons.
Tony.
Howard didn't want to see any more harm come to his son through his own (albeit indirect) actions and Bruce didn't want his friend to suffer through yet another fight with the WSC (not that it mattered now he thought ruefully) that would have born more destruction and grief; especially when it would be easier for him to take the blame on himself and weather the storm. It wasn't as if Bruce hadn't done things like this before after all, admittedly in less complicated scenarios but that wasn't the point here and besides he had grown used to being a pariah.
It was better than any alternative he could have predicted at the time.
All Howard had said before his eyes had slid shut was that final time was that he was a good man, that they all were and would they take care of Tony. All Bruce had done was smile softly and nod before depressing the plunger on the syringe and sending the deadly concoction into Howard's bloodstream, a concoction that caused his organs to shut down one by one. Those last ten minutes of Howard Stark's life had been ten of the most excruciating minutes that Bruce had ever experienced and that was truly saying something.
He drew himself back into the present and pushed those saddening thoughts to the back of his mind, now wasn't the time to be dealing with an emotional crisis (not that there was ever a good time for him but now so more than ever.) and focused on the task at hand. The crowd of commuters was beginning to thin out slightly and it was almost time for him to make a move. Finally he saw his opening and casually as he possibly could Bruce stood and walked toward the storage lockers, his sharp brown eyes constantly on the lookout.
Bruce moved along the rows of numbered lockers doing his best to shield himself from the security cameras, faking casualness with ease. Within a few minutes though he found the locker he was looking for and gingerly reached out, fingers brushing across the metal number pad and held his breath.
It was the moment of truth.
He punched in the code that Tony had made him memorise all those months ago and prayed that luck would be in his favour just this once.
The lock clicked open.
Bruce let out a breath of sheer relief and pulled the door open. Inside, just like Tony had said, were a few rather substantial looking bundles of cash and a small cluster of passports and fake identification papers. Quickly and as surreptitiously as possible the physicist grabbed a few bundles of cash and one of the many fake ID's stuffing them inside his jacket, figuring that it would be enough to tide him over for a while especially if he ended up in one of his usually haunts or bumfuck nowhere as his former best friend would have put it.
(He really hoped that Tony was okay. The news reports surrounding the whole 'Mandarin' incident had nearly caused a green moment.)
Happy and a little shocked that he'd gotten what he came for Bruce was about to turn and beat a hasty retreat for the exit when the faint 'click' of a safety being released met his ears.
"That isn't a good idea you know, you don't know who your dealing with." He said in a clear, level voice just shy of menacing.
"On the contrary, I know exactly who you are Doctor Banner."
Bruce felt sick to his stomach, of course it would be Ross he didn't know anyone else crazy enough to approach him with a loaded weapon pointed at him. Of all the rotten luck.
"How did you find me?"
The physicist could practically hear the sneer in Ross's voice and it sent a bone deep shudder through his body.
"It's funny how things come full circle; remember that little tracking algorithm you created when you were searching for the Tesseract?"
Bruce's first thought was one of betrayal, had Tony given them the algorithm as revenge? The Other Guy rumbled unhappily at the thought.
Bruce bit the inside of his cheek, no, Tony wouldn't have done something like that. He'd had Bruce's back from the start and if he'd truly wanted to hurt him he could have rigged the locker or fuck it tracked him down himself, although he had been a little busy as of late. Besides Tony wasn't the kind of person to take a back seat nor was he vindictive enough to lead a persons worst nightmare right to them. At least he didn't think Tony was the type but he had been wrong before.
Then it hit him like a bolt of lightening and Bruce fought back a groan, of course; SHIELD. He should have known they'd kept a copy of the algorithm. The physicist sighed, he should have known to destroy that damned piece of code but he hadn't dreamed that it could have been modified to track him. He gave off even less radiation than the Tesseract and to be able to pinpoint his location using that meant that whoever was funding Ross's little venture had some serious resources to hand. The amount of power, never mind the satellites required would put a serious dent in someone's pocket and the fact that someone had... Well that was not a thought that Bruce found remotely comforting.
"So hands on your head if you don't mind..."
Bruce ground his teeth together and slowly moved to place his hands on the back of his head. His mind was racing, taking in every little detail of his surroundings. The exits were covered which was a goddamn pain and he could see the tiny pin pricks of red light that indicated that snipers were in the vicinity.
Fucking marvellous.
He was so, so screwed.
Bruce felt rough hands seize his wrists and the cool snap of metal pinning them together, grimacing slightly as they were tightened far beyond what would be considered comfortable. A tight grip on his shoulder spun him around and Bruce came face to face with his oldest tormentor.
There was something different about him, something Bruce couldn't quite put his finger on but he looked a lot more worn than the last time they had met. A slow, sickly smile crossed Ross's face and it made the physicists stomach turn over.
"I said I'd be seeing you soon Banner."
Bruce swallowed past the lump that was forming in his throat and resisted the urge to spit in the man's face a feeling more powerful than his anger curling in his gut. Loathing, that's what that feeling was; pure loathing. Ross either discerned what he was thinking from the look on his face or had sudden developed ESP because his smile only grew brighter and more vicious.
"No smart remark Banner? I'm disappointed."
"Go to hell Ross!" Bruce shot back in a hushed tone just keeping the Hulk at bay, there were still far too many civilians around.
"Not before you Milksopp**."
The General snapped his fingers and two men seized Bruce under his arms, holding him firmly and dragging the bound man along. Bruce tested the grip of the two burly men mentally calculating the force and momentum he would need to break it all the while playing possum. They walked calmly across the floor, people stepping to the side to avoid them and Bruce slowed his breathing down, focusing on what he was about to do. As they passed under the covered section of the entryway and out of the snipers view the physicist made his move.
He faked a stumble letting his whole body become dead weight, pulling down the two men with him. They were too well trained to let Bruce drag them right down and they braced themselves as they took the strain of his full weight, bodies stooping slightly and their heads drawing together above the physicists. Bruce mentally grinned to himself, perfect. Quick as anything he used the men's sturdiness to quickly right himself and push upwards, shoulders set square, right into the soldiers chins.
The men yelped and loosened their grip on the physicists arms allowing Bruce a small amount of maneuverability and he fully intended to take advantage of that. He yanked one elbow free and drove it into the stomach of the right side soldier, noting with grim satisfaction that he wasn't wearing any body armour. After all what good was body armour against the Hulk? The man doubled over reflexively and Bruce brought up his knee to catch him in the chin, knocking him out cold. The second man had recovered quickly and was fumbling with something in his pocket even as he tried to keep his grip on Bruce. The physicist, not feeling particularly charitable just kicked him in the shin, hard and shoved the man against a stone wall causing what looked like a syringe to fall from his hand.
Tranquilizers. Oh whoop de fucking do, today really wasn't Bruce's day.
Before either soldier had chance to recover the physicist was already sprinting out of the large doors and out into the busy New York street. He kept his hands low and out of sight as he bobbed and weaved through the throng of people, being careful not to fall and with every sense constantly on the lookout for anyone who might be following.
He heard shouts from behind him and ducked into a nearby alley hoping to shake them off. Panting lightly Bruce took refuge behind a dumpster with the intention of freeing his hands up a little. The physicist shifted his body awkwardly leaning his weight onto his shoulder blades as he curled his legs up toward his chest before slipping his arms down and around, grunting in pain as his joints popped under the strain. Bruce let out a sigh of relief as he straightened out his body into a more natural position his hands now bound in front of him rather than behind. Muttering something about getting old and moving into a crouched position behind the dumpster he listened for any pursuers and cautiously stuck his head out.
Nothing.
Well that was odd.
Bruce frowned, something was off about this whole situation. They were making it too easy for him, far too easy and the physicist didn't like it one bit. With a sigh he pulled his cap down over the mess of curls and headed toward the opposite end of the alley and climbed over the fence albeit some what ungracefully blocking off the opposite end, no one even batted an eye at the rumpled looking man appearing from behind a sheet metal fence. Thank God for New Yorkers Bruce thought with sardonic amusement.
He didn't stop moving, crossing the street in a lull of traffic and heading toward yet another alley. Bruce knew it was a risk taking the back streets but it also meant that it would be difficult for Ross to send in any of the big guns to track him. Hulk grumbled in the back of his mind, lamenting the loss of things to smash. He picked up the pace as he moved through the various back alleys of New York,.avoiding the occasional bum and keeping an eye out for anything he could possibly use as lock pick. Finally after around an hour of movement Bruce felt at least comfortable enough to stop for a quick breather, he'd seen no sign of Ross and his men since escaping their and felt quietly confident that if they hadn't caught up to him by now then he was probably safe.
He really should have known better.
The sharp prick of a needle came as a surprise mostly because he couldn't see whoever had jabbed him with it. Bruce jumped to his feet in a blind panic even as his head began to swim, eyes darting around for the invisible assailant. He could hear the person moving, circling him, footsteps as gentle as the wind, graceful but deadly when stirred. The next attack came in swiftly too fast for Bruce to even think about blocking, not incapacitated as he was and definitely not with the cocktail of drugs coursing through his system. The second needle depressed with a click and within minutes Bruce was on his knees, his legs no longer able to support his weight.
The sound of heavy booted footsteps echoed down the quiet street.
Fuck.
Bruce rose his head as far as he could determined to not go down. He knew he was fucked by this point but he'd always been a stubborn asshole, a trait that had only intensified with his stint with the Avengers. And God did that thought hurt, he missed then all so fucking much. He'd been alone for so long and then he'd been thrown into all the craziness and he'd loved every second of it even when he'd hated it and... and then he'd left and it was like tearing out a piece of his soul... And...
And... Why had he left again?
Fuck. It was getting so hard to think.
The slap across his cheek brought the physicist a little closer to reality and he blinked owlishly even as General Ross glared down at him.
And fuck, he suddenly couldn't help himself he burst into laughter; uncontrollable laughter so hard he was almost crying and everything, Ross, Betty, Hulk, The Avengers, Howard Stark, Tony, his whole goddamned life was just the funniest thing he'd ever seen... heard... Whatever.
Ross smacked him again, harder than the first time causing Bruce to bite the inside of his cheek and draw blood. He spat the slightly foamy liquid on Ross's boot finding the stain on the otherwise pristine leather hilarious.
"Stop laughing." Ross growled.
And that, that just made him laugh even harder.
"Stop!"
Nope, not going to happen he was too far gone into this hysterical breakdown now, Bruce was still laughing even as the older man grabbed him by the throat and lifted him fully off the ground with a strength that seemed inhuman if he'd had the capacity at that point to even register it . Choking and spluttering around the hand gripping his throat Bruce clawed weakly at the arm holding him aloft his body still convulsing in a fit of hysterics even as he was slowly strangled.
"Be quiet!" Ross barked out again, anger evident in his tone and his grip tightened ever so slightly.
There was a strangled snort.
"G-go... F-f-f-fuck... Y-yourself..."
Finally losing patience with the impudent man Ross grabbed another syringe from his subordinate and plunged it into Bruce's neck far harder than was probably necessary.
As the darkness rushed in Bruce's last thought was a regretful 'At least no one will miss me.'
End Chapter 1.
* A quote from C.S Lewis.
** A slight nod to the early Hulk comics. This was a favourite insult of General Ross to call Bruce.
A/N: So one Chapter down. Please don't hurt me to badly.