Disclaimer: I don't own these beautiful characters. I just have visitation rights. We go out on the weekends and have fun and then I send them back to their Mom along with the child support check 3
Warnings for mildly graphic torture (I've written worse and read way worse, but just in case.) Also warning for shortness. This is a one-shot, but I'll write more of these two together (just not continuing this one.)
They say you don't know how good you have it til it's gone, but the thing was, Steve didn't know if he had Bruce at all. Certainly, he had thought about it. After the doctor had spent so many late nights helping him catch up on the seventy years he'd missed, after Bruce had dropped everything he was doing to answer Steve's questions, after Bruce put aside his own dislike of the crowded city to give him company when he ventured out of the tower to see the world he hardly knew, how could Steve not have fallen hard for Dr. Banner?
But Bruce hadn't given any indication that he was even interested in men, much less Steve. There was no reason to think Bruce could possibly return his feelings. Sure, Bruce got a little misty eyed and sentimental when he talked about how the serum manifested all the amazing things Steve already had been, but he chalked that up to a combination of Bruce's professional interest in the serum and the doctor's own self image issues (and wow did Steve hate how Dr. Banner still saw himself as a monster.) And it was probably just wishful thinking that Steve felt Bruce smiled a little brighter and a little more real with him than with any of the others. And all that time he spent on Steve was just being a good friend.
All of the excuses and justifications he'd been telling himself stopped mattering the moment he found out Bruce had been taken. Ross's people had concocted some new tranquilizer, something strong enough that it probably could have killed Bruce. They found the doctor on his way home from the international market, his canvas bags full of foreign fruits, vegetable and spices. And then he was gone. The team didn't even know until the video showed up, taunting them, as if Ross couldn't just accept his victory, but needed to flaunt it before the team.
"You filthy piece of shit!" Ross cursed, shoving a knife deeper into Bruce's side.
The doctor cried out, but his voice was garbled by the blood he coughed up. His entire body covered with similar gashes, burns and bruises, Bruce could hardly strain against the straps holding him down to the table. A sickly yellow fluid dripped into both his arms through two I.V.s and men and women in scrubs and lab coats moved about the room, oblivious, as if the man being beaten and stabbed and tortured in the middle of the room was perfectly normal, acceptable.
The general sneered and twisted the blade. "You had this coming from day one monster! You may have fooled the Avengers, SHIELD, even the goddamned president himself, but you and I both know better. We know what you really are!"
Leaving the knife protruding from Bruce's side, the general reached for a short, black cylinder with a plug running from one end and a metal spike protruding from the other. He turned a knob on the side earning a sharp buzzing sound. He touched the end of the spike to the knife and a bolt of electricity shot through, causing Bruce to tremble and tears to stream down his face.
The general might as well have painted a big red target on his ass.
Bruce was only vaguely aware of the hands ripping the straps away and pulling the I.V.s from his arms. A blur of red, white and blue scooped him up and a warm, familiar scent filled his lungs. The doctor's voice was ragged when he asked, "Steve?"
"You'll be alright now, Bruce," Steve's voice soothed him in a way Bruce never would have expected. Steve came for him. Steve.
"Cap, we could use a hand out here!" Clint's voice shouted from beyond the door, followed by sounds of an explosion shaking the whole room.
No! Desperation ripped through him at the thought of Steve leaving. Hot, stinging tears poured from his eyes as Bruce begged, "Please, don't leave me here alone."
"I'll never let you go again," Steve promised with a solid determination in his voice. He planted a soft kiss on the doctor's forehead. "No one can hurt you now, Bruce."
Another explosion shattered the observation window on the other side of the room and fire raged through the connecting room. Bruce turned, eyes wide with terror, but a solid and warm hand turned his head back. Clear, azure eyes locked onto his and Steve spoke in firm, but comforting tones, "Just close your eyes. I have you now."
And with that, the war raging outside the door no longer mattered. The warmth of Steve's arms holding him close and the soothing promises whispered into Bruce's hair were all that mattered now. The danger was dead and gone and passed. His weary eyes fell shut and the world drifted away.
When Bruce woke again, the soft a lullaby hummed beneath his head and the bright light of morning streamed through his window. He kept his eyes shut, holding onto that moment, holding onto the music, even after Steve stopped humming. Warm lips pressed to his forehead while strong fingers carded through his hair. A soft moan crept from his chest.
"Shh..." Steve soothed. "We're safe and sound now, Bruce."