The Billionaire, The Doctor, The Solider, The Scientist, The Archer, and The Assassin
A Few Weeks after the Battle of New York
Bruce Banner
I tap the pads of my fingers on the pristine countertop, feeling awkward and out of place. It's almost been a week of having breakfast in the 'Avenger (Formerly Stark) Tower' and yet, I still feel as uncomfortable as I was on day one.
Steve Rogers walks into the kitchen, leaving a trail of water droplets in his path. The solider has had a precise schedule for the past weeks. Wake up at six, run for an hour, take a shower, eat breakfast, train, learn about the 21st century, eat lunch, train, go out and take a walk or visit Peggy Carter, eat dinner, train, then sleep. Currently, he is on the 'eat breakfast after training (and showering)' part.
"Morning Bruce." Steve says as he digs through the refrigerator. We've all been on a first name basis for quite some time now; saving the world together can do that to a group of strangers.
"Good morning." I reply. The two of us don't really converse much, mostly due to both our shy tendencies.
"Where's Tony?" He asks me and I mentally correct myself; Steve calls Tony, Tony, but Tony calls Steve everything (Captain Underpants, Capsicle, Spangles) but Steve.
"Where else? In his workshop. He barely got out of the place since Elizabeth left. The only person that can coax him out is Pepper and she's away on the previously cancelled business trip." I tell him.
Steve nods and our conversation ends, bathing the kitchen in an awkward silence that I effectively end by walking away with a muffled 'goodbye'.
I walk down the steps into Tony Starks's lab and enter the code that was assigned to me when Tony and Pepper offered the tower to me for a temporary housing until I figure out what I want to do now that I'm not hiding anymore.
My hands automatically go up to cover my ears in response to the boisterous music that is being played. I take in the sight of the burnt lab; flames surrounding a blue Porsche, tools scattered all over the place, one of Tony's robots holding a fire extinguisher taming the fire, and the man himself standing in the middle looking sheepish.
He spots me at the entrance and waves me in, as if this is all absolute normalcy. I force a smile onto my face and pull out my phone, motioning with my hands that this is an important call that I must answer and sprint up the stairs only to bump into Steve, who is making his way down the stairs, presumably to visit Tony.
"Do not, under any circumstances go down there." I tell him.
I ignore his confused expression and run into the elevator, allowing myself to breathe normally when I step out of the Tower and breathe the summer breeze.
I should have stayed in Calcutta.
A Few Days Later
Elizabeth
"And then this guy, a random blond, green-eyed dude, walks out of her room, buck-ass naked and smiles at me! He's followed by my best friend since preschool, Charlotte Abigail McCoy who is covered by a single bed sheet that covers everything that needs to be covered, not that it's necessary cause I've already seen her naked many times, not that we're together or anything, she's really not my type, but..."
My important (self-pitying) ramble is cut of when Happy (the heartless bastard) activates the parting glass to separate him and me and to avoid listening to my rambling. I glare at the parting glass in shock and then go on to stare out the window, looking at all the familiar things I didn't realize I missed until I came back from Savannah (a long much needed trip ever since Loki happened).
Happy pulls the car to a stop in front of the Avengers Tower (Tony came up with the name ever since Bruce, Steve, and occasionally Nat and Clint started staying there and the Avengers became incredibly popular around the world) and I step off, throwing him a carefully constructed (childish) glare before stomping my way into home.
When the elevator doors open, I'm greeted by Jarvis' warm (as warm as a robot can get) welcome and I smile giddily at the comfort of being home. The first thing I see is Tony's smiling face that awaits a few feet from the elevator and I blurt out the first thing that comes to my mind when I step out.
"Charlie's been seeing a guy for three months and I had no idea!"
My brother stops mid step and his face changes from happy to blank. I mentally scroll back and realize what I said and guiltily smile at him.
"Never mind. Forget I even said that. We'll talk about it later, once I'm done explaining to Happy who by the way is a horrible listener. I was talking to him about my serious problem about not knowing who my best friend's current bang is and he just raised the partition glass. The nerve of that man. By the way, I missed you. A lot." I walk up to hug him and he reincorporates the gesture wholeheartedly.
It's then that I notice the two S.H.I.E.L.D agents posing as spectators on the large stairway. I release Tony and make my way towards the bottom of the staircase, my eyebrows raised in question at their amused and relieved smiles.
"It's a good thing your back. Poor Stark here was going to die in his man cave." Natasha tells me.
"I was not!" I hear Tony argue from behind me.
Both Tony and Natasha have had a...unique relationship since the Battle of New York. Tony had always liked her; he just became much more closed off when he discovered that she was a S.H.I.E.L.D agent sent to spy on him. Nat had always hated him, but loosened due to what seems like guilt for almost trapping him in space. After the battle, they both came to a silent truce. Now, they openly tease each other, all the while maintaining the line that they had drawn between themselves to ensure comfort.
It's slightly unsettling to see them like this, I think as I watch them bicker away to one of the training rooms (where Natasha will train and Tony will annoy her with pointers).
"It's all weird, right." Clint says from beside me.
If there was anything, more unsuspecting that came out of the alien invasion than Natasha and Tony was the relationship between Clint Barton and me. He was closed off during the battle, probably because of the guilt he felt for being a part of the cause. He became a great friend after that. I left for Savannah the day after the battle and he left for a tiny vacation of his own. I offered my private jet and he offered to fly it. I realized how much of a talker he was during the ride. By the time I was dropped off at Savannah, I knew many things about the previously mysterious Clint Barton, including his secret family.
"You mean coming back from a trip to a tower with a bunch of superheroes?" Ya, it's weird." I respond after my inner rant subdues.
He chuckles, shakes his head and walks away. Leaving me bewildered. I chase after him in mock fury.
"Hey! I just came back. You can't just leave after saying only four words to me. I'm a talker. I need people to talk back to." I yell at his shaking (in laughter) back.
It's good to be home.
The Same Day
Steve Rogers
I position my feet wide apart, in accordance with the punching bag that dangles from the ceiling. I haven't started yet, but the force of placing it on the hook already has the bag moving violently back and forth. Punching is my way of releasing stress. It's my way of letting go. My place in this world is unverified, and I don't know what to do with all this spare time.
My mind takes an unnecessary trip through memory lane, to a few weeks ago, when I rode into the sunset after my almost-kiss with Liz.
I rode on my bike for three hours. Not going anywhere, just riding without any destination. I cut through the broken and battered streets, allowing me a good look at the world that has become my home. The world that has changed significantly in the past 50 years. Then, all of a sudden, I stopped. In the middle of nowhere, in the middle of the street. I stopped and realized that I had no place to go. The only people I knew during this century were currently in the large tower that I could see from the distance.
I parked my bike in front of Stark Tower and walked in the building. The machine previously introduced as Jarvis took me to the 50th floor of the tower where Tony and Bruce sat on a surprisingly unbroken couch. They didn't seem surprised to see me there.
"Liz told me you'd show up." He said.
Of course she did.
"There are spare rooms on the 51st floor that is experiencing ongoing repairs as of right now. When that is over you and Brucie can stay as long as you two want. Now if you'll excuse me, I have some things to do." And with that, he disappeared down some stairs.
"Where's Liz?" I asked Bruce. We don't really talk that much. It's probably because both of us prefer to watch than talk.
"She just left for Savannah. Right before you came." He told me and I pushed down the disappointment when he did.
I gave him a nod and walked up the stairs to the 51st floor feeling more alone than ever.
It's been weeks since then and I feel as if I finally got my life somewhat in order. Tony's been helping me with technology, Natasha's been training with me, and Tony's girlfriend, Pepper, showed me around New York until she left. Regardless, I can't help but feel a pang of melancholy whenever I spot a longhaired brunette on the streets.
I clear my head and prepare to start my anger punching when a familiar voice stops me.
"Just wanted to tell you that we don't have a storage full of punching bags so you're going to have to go and buy your own if you break this one. Which will be hard since you don't have any money as of now, so my advice would be not to punch too hard, okay?"
Liz leans on the doorway of the gym. Her hair is made into a complicated braid that sits over her shoulder on top of the green floral sundress she sports. Her face is tanned, sun kissed, and she glows with absolute radiance and joy that tells me that the trip did wonders to her emotionally. She smiles (the smile that I have missed) and walks up to me.
"I missed you. The house was so quiet without your chatter." I truthfully tell her.
"Of course it was. And of course, you missed me. Who wouldn't? Everyone did." She jokingly says as she stands on her toes in order to wrap her arms around my neck.
"I missed you too," I hear her muffled reply against my neck and I close my eyes for a moment of bliss before I release my arms from her waist and we stand there, stupidly looking at each other for a moment.
"So, Tony told me about your very diligent training." She gives me a look that says that she can see right through me.
I scratch the back of my neck for a second before my posture straightens.
"Ya, I wanted to make sure I'm ready. Just in case you know?"
Seemingly accepting the excuse, she nods her head before a mischievous glint sparks in her eye.
"Give me a minute. I'll be right back," she makes her way to the bathroom all the while murmuring audible reassurances that I don't know I need; "I'm not going anywhere. I just need to...You know...for later. I'll be back in a sec. Don't go anywhere."
She emerges from the ladies room in a tank top and leggings and her complex braid has now transformed into a simple ponytail that rests high on her head. My confusion at her sudden make over is probably evident on my face as she explains,
"I hear you got some sick moves up your sleeve. So I thought that you could show me. And I didn't mean your bedroom moves cause that would be inappropriate. Not that you have horrible bedroom moves, or that I'm thinking about such moves. I just thought that it would be cool if we could train together and you can show me your moves. And I mean this in a purely platonic way." She clears her throat awkwardly and swings back on her heels as I fight to destroy the images she just created in my head.
"You want to fight me?" I say in an unsure, slightly amused way.
Just when I thought that she couldn't surprise me anymore, she just goes on to do it all over again.
Liz
I narrow my eyes at the humour in his.
"Do you have a problem with that Steve Rogers? Scared to hit a woman. Because if so, then I've got to say buddy, you are definitely in the wrong time" I inch closer to him daringly, secretly relieved that he completely ignored my inapt ramble.
He hides a smile (not very well) and masks a straight face (not well at all) and steps forward so that his breath brushes my face when he speaks.
"Alright Ms. Stark, let's see what you got."
We both stand on either end of the training mat. His legs are positioned away from each other and his hands are balled loosely into fists. He makes the first move; running towards me. I dodge the punch that aims to my stomach with a quick step back and duck to avoid the other hand that barrels to my head. I catch his smirk before I aim a kick to his knees that relatively does nothing but send him staggering back a few inches.
"No fair, you're a supersoilder." I not so quietly whisper.
"Hey, you were the one that wanted to fight." He defensively says, mastering a quick flurry of movements that I subtly dodge.
"Well, I kinda forgot for a moment there that you were not a normal human being, but a human being with a phenomenal set of unnatural skills along with the extra biological strength. I guess hanging out with normal people for a couple of weeks does that to you." Back and forth, we fight. Actually, I wouldn't really call this fighting, this is more of a weirdly calm boxing.
"Ya, that's one of the things I like about you. You look at me as if I'm a normal human" In the move that I had anticipated, he runs up to me, back arched, legs drawn up to punch me on my shoulders and kick me on my legs. The 'Cowered Howard' my Aunt Peggy had named it. The only move that my father could ever do; he refused to learn after that.
I counter it with a much better one. One of the first moves Aunt Peggy had taught me. Took four years to perfect, but it was worth it.
I grab his arm, spin around, and while spinning use all the strength I have mastered to pin him down on the ground. But of course, training with a supersoilder definitely has its privileges as I end up falling with him. I land on top of one sweaty Steve Rogers (why the hell does the man sweat cologne?), the only thing preventing me from going smack down on his chest (not that I would really mind) is my hands that position me a few inches above him (thank god I did push ups with Jarvis when I was younger.)
Nevertheless, it doesn't prevent a victorious smile from stretching across my face and a surprised smile that stretches on his. I loosen my hand that pulls me up and he moves his head upwards so that we can meet in the middle.
"That was some awesome ass-kicking back there." Natasha's voice infiltrates the room, and I almost throw an icicle at her. But I'm too busy jumping away from Steve and getting my breathing back in order from that almost kiss (the second one).
"I got it on video. Did the classic Peggy Carter didn't ya?" My brother walks in with Bruce and stands beside Natasha and I silently pray that he disregarded or misinterpreted the kiss-that-never-happened.
"The what?" Steve asks from beside me, nothing abnormal, but his breathy voice that can be passed for exhaustion. Unlike me, who is probably beet red all over, and clenching my thighs while balling my hand into a fist in an attempt to control myself biologically.
"We call it the Peggy Carter move. It was the first move that Aunt Peggy taught me and it might be her greatest move yet. Although it's not really hers, it's her late brothers, who died, which you know because I just said late brother and because you dated her. Anyway, Aunt Peggy does the move better than him anyway. I mean, I don't know him or anything but..." I realize that I'm outside the gym and that I've successfully completed getting my stuff and walking out of the gym without having to face Steve. I also realize that I've failed my pact to keep it cool and quiet, to let Tony explain the move, and to walk out without embarrassing myself.
Clint, in all his almighty bow and arrowyness walks into the room, takes one look at my face and asks me,
"Are you okay? You look...red."
I ignore him and walk away, making sure not to look at my face in the reflection.
I knew living with a bunch of superheroes was a terrible idea.