Author Note - Thanks to my wonderful beta Black Victor Cachat who writes some great stories too. For the guest reviewer who asked me to write more Brutasha after Spies and Scientists, I wish I could answer you personally. Please enjoy, my plan is to update quicker as I have already written a few chapters just have a few tweaks to make. Feel free to leave a review or send me a PM.

From the Ashes

"I want to run. To do what I always do, have always done, for the last five years of my life. Escape, flee into the shadows. But this time, I stand my ground. I'm tired of running." — Marie Lu (Prodigy (Legend, #2))

Chapter one – Welcome Home Banner

The road to one's happily ever after is never easy. Or at least it shouldn't be. The whole concept is a fairy tale which many rarely achieve. The best someone can hope for is being content, without regret.

Bruce Banner never considered either notion attainable for him, even when he was with Betty. The shadows his father cast upon his life taunted him even when he was in love. However, Bruce persevered because Betty made him happy, hopeful for a peaceful future. There was even talk of children, a dream he held closely to his chest despite his doubts of ever being a capable role model for a child, when he never experienced it himself.

Then came the Accident followed by years on the run, convincing him he was the monster people saw him as, and his father threatened he would become. After rejecting Betty and her help, Bruce did everything he could to cure himself so he could one day return to her. Each failed attempt destroying a part of him, leading him on a bleak path of hopelessness. At his lowest, he ate a bullet, and his green counterpart literally spat it out.

After that, Bruce managed some semblance of control over his rage monster. He doesn't know how he did it, as he wasn't doing anything different than before. Meditation, breathing, obsessively doing everything in his control to temper his heart beat. In a fleeting moment, he considered the Other Guy was giving him a break after his attempt to end it all. There were plenty of people after them, they didn't need to turn on each other.

Bruce ambled on, eventually ending up in India, and doling out medical assistance to those who didn't readily have access to it. He was never a formally trained physician but his work with biomechanics he was able to adapt his knowledge to help people with what little he had to offer. Not only for redemption but for some peace of mind to stop him obsessing over his fate. After overcoming his initial panic of potentially exposing innocent strangers to his greener half, Bruce enjoyed the meagre job at the small clinic. He was interacting with people but it was safe. He felt safe.

Enter Natasha Romanoff.

The woman who turned his life upside down. Again.

Years ago, he waltzed into her trap-shack to be confronted by the Black Widow, who, with minimal make-up to highlight her natural beauty, and a flowing red dress over her curves, embodying everything he had grown to distrust. She was here to bring him in. Introducing herself as a SHIELD representative, she didn't disappoint when she began to compliment his mind, drawing him in with science like she had with the little girl asking him to save her family. The soft warm glow illuminating her flawless fair skin. He tempered his features as he engaged her, travelling around the one-storey hut, his eyes naturally fell on the windows, the swaying curtains giving nothing away of her back up. There was no way she was bringing him in solo.

He growled tellingly about never getting what he wanted while pushing the rickety cradle. She listened, unfazed of course. She just sat there, calm, collected, confident. Her open, unaffected body language grated on his nerves, and so help him, he wanted to mess with her. She brought it upon herself, really. She caught him off-guard, it was only fair play.

He raised his voice and slammed the table when she insisted they were after the scientist rather than the monster. She drew the gun she taped under the table so smoothly as she stood, aiming at his face. Seeing the slight tremble as her finger curled around the trigger as she fought to regain control of the situation, Bruce brought his hands up in a gesture to signify his surrender, apologising even as he released a quiet chuckle at his prank. Their eyes held as she spoke into her ear piece, and Bruce was struck by the guarded vulnerability in her green eyes with hazel flecks.

Unlike other operatives who had come for him in the past which included offers of power, or honey traps, there was something different about the woman who was brave enough to face him alone. Who was good enough to convince him to reveal his monster, the side of him which doesn't need protection from the Hulk. The threat and circumstances she was describing seemed credible enough for him to begrudgingly agree to travel with her. Of course, he never really put any credence in the part where the Other Guy could stay out of it—if this was a trap the Hulk was his exit strategy.

His relationship with Natasha has developed from their first interaction in that trap shack, the thick tension caused by his antipathy toward an organisation such as SHIELD and her unwavering personification of it. There were fleeting moments when he felt a flicker of intrigue for the mysterious woman, like when she defended his offhand joking assessment of Loki being crazy. Their first adventure was wrought with strain, and with the Sceptre's influence he was feeling the pressure of being in an environment where they were preparing for combat, and as the one who brought him in, she was the one who bared the brunt of his snappy comebacks especially when she tried to corral him just before Barton attacked the Helicarrier to liberate Loki. He was absolutely horrified when he had flashbacks of his greener, meaner half focusing his anger on her and chasing her through the labyrinth of corridors on SHIELD's premier craft. Though she was capable of dodging the Hulk till Thor intervened, seeing her in person when he arrived in New York was a relief.

"So, this all seems horrible," Bruce says dismounting the motorcycle and approaching the others.

"I've seen worse," Natasha informs him coolly.

Her words cause him to stop, briefly reconsider his decision to show up. He blinks, dust still covers his face from the factory which broke his fall. He truly feels… "Sorry," he says directly to her.

Her face as it changes quickly as she amends her words sincerely, invitingly, "No, we could use a little worse."

Natasha Romanoff. The woman who turned his life upside down. Again.

For the better.

He never fathomed the impact she would have on his life back then, least of all during the years since. He isn't consumed by thoughts of running away or obsessively questioning whether he's an asset or a detriment to their team. He always doubted his place on field missions till they called a Code Green; twiddling his thumbs on the Quinjet even though Natasha taught him how to monitor the team through the jet's systems. If they didn't need him on standby for the Hulk, he could've done the same thing from his lab. He enjoyed the team camaraderie and living with the unique group of people after being alone and on the run for so long. Working with Tony for Stark Industries made him feel like he was contributing to the world and he would've been happy continuing with that after they found the Sceptre but then their collaboration created Ultron and everything went to hell.

He can't believe it's been two years since Ultron tried to wipe out Earth, two years since he thought running away was the answer to all his problems. It would be easy to run away except there's nowhere to hide from Thanos or his gauntlet.

Not that running away appeals to him after fighting the Mad Titan or his army, he wants to help win this fight. He needs to. And he's pretty certain the Hulk will choose to stick close to Natasha if he shows up to be given the choice. She calms both of them, neither can deny that. However reluctant Hulk is to transform, either way, Thanos spooked him and Natasha soothes him like no other.

Sitting next to her in the middle of a clearing, wearing nothing bar torn pants, Bruce is grounded by the mere sound of her breathing and the fact that she's miraculously still alive after the battle they've endured. Though he's been told it's been years, it feels like a matter of hours since they were in Sokovia about to face Ultron. Moreover, then he was distracted trying to save Asgard from Thor's sister. Now Bruce tries to focus on the present, while struggling to believe the unnatural genocide he's witnessed in a small amount of time. It's still hazy to him; Natasha changed him back moments after half the world disappeared, though Hulk allowed him to retain the memory of all those people's ashes scattering in the wind.

Looking around at the scene, the survivors are shell shocked, but reaching out to surrounding fighters to assess their fate and losses. Sam hovers by Steve, partly shielding their friend from scrutiny while the latter's usually empathic expression lost with his best friend.

Natasha draws Bruce's attention once more by running a hand through her platinum hair –briefly he wonders if it was recent change, or if she's had the look for a while, or what else may have changed – only to notice one finger having difficulty with the movement. Lifting his hand carefully not to spook her, her eyes snap to his as soon as she registers it in her peripheral, and her whole body stops. He points at her hand, and she lowers it to see it herself, noticing the damage for the first time.

Without waiting for permission, Bruce moves deliberately, taking the hand in his and his fingers examine her thoroughly with confidence and a familiarity which is belied by the light frown on his face. Natasha barely reacts as he moves the index finger, yet his can feel the break.

"Do you have any tape in your belt?"

Without saying a word, she snaps open a pocket and produces a small roll, which she hands to him. Steadying the index finger against her middle finger, he wraps her them with medical tape. He refuses to meet her gaze, and she's grateful because she can't stop herself studying him. Sitting bare chested with baggy bottoms, dust covering his face and chest, as he treats her so surely with a gentleness she's only ever experienced with him. The soft pads of his thumbs massage her other fingers once he's done, moving them carefully to test mobility.

His voice is gruff as he releases her hand and shows her the action as he asks her to do it, "Flex."

As soon as she copies him, his eyes are on her face and she's caught in his warm gaze as his hand tentatively takes hers once more to test her range of movement. His eyes don't leave her face and fights the urge to react only she's already lost that battle already by staring back at him.

Knowing them this could take a while. They communicate better with touch anyway, since it always goes to hell when one of them opens their mouth. His touch turns into a soft caress and she almost senses he may lift it to his lips to brush a kiss across her knuckles.

"How are your ribs?" He asks instead.

"My ribs?" She blinks and Bruce gestures at her torso.

"You were holding your side earlier."

"Uh, it was just from where Thanos bound me to the ground, no damage done," Natasha assures him. "What about you? He did the same to the Big Guy."

Bruce examines his bare chest, except he finds no visible marks, and the ache he feels isn't physical. "I'm fine."

"Thank you for coming back, you didn't have to," she says breaking the moment.

"What else was I going to do? Spend the rest of my life as a glorified cage fighter?" Bruce realises how flippant that sounds when her eyes narrow a fraction questioningly. "Sorry, it's a long story, Thor probably has more details than I do," he apologises before sobering further. "I would never leave you like this."

Natasha raises an eyebrow meaningfully at that and Bruce realises his poor choice of words. Last time they properly spoke, he was intent on staying out of the fight because of what it would cost him; he wouldn't be able to cope with the cost of losing control and going on a rampage amongst civilians so soon after Johannesburg, and neither would the Hulk. Bruce has enough residual awareness to realise how it affected his alter ego as Wanda's red mist lifted; he understands why Earth hates him. In a way, Bruce was right. He ended up on the other side of the galaxy trapped inside the Other Guy. Sokovia cost him dearly, not just two years of his life it seems, but Natasha as well.

"We haven't had much of a chance to talk," he starts. He knows it's probably the worst time to bring this up, yet who knows if he'll get another chance. She deserves more of an explanation than the awkward greeting they exchanged less than a day ago.

"Probably for the best," she says heavily.

"It is?" Bruce asks, his heart sinking. He knew it was a lot to ask or hope for, except he would like some sort of resolution to their dalliance. Of course, the whole situation is rather complicated. More so than with other couples. While it's been days for him, it's been three years for her; she's moved on believing she was the one who forced him to leave. She knew how pushing him would've affected him when she kissed him, and he supposes that could've been why she did it, her way of saying goodbye because she expected him to walk away from her after she forced him to transform. He's never had to time to process what he would've done if she managed to de-Hulk him after Sokovia, only that whatever anger he may have felt for her for pushing him would've passed as soon as he saw the survivors the Other Guy had helped save.

"It was never really going to happen, was it?" Her eyes implore him to agree with her, tell her she's right.

He wants to let her go on thinking he lied to her about running together, he does. It's an easy out he doesn't want or need. Call it self-inflicted torture, he wants her to hold onto the justification that he walked away from her. Only problem is that he's been thrust back into her life for the foreseeable future and he has no intention of walking away from her or this fight with everything on the line. He doubts she does either, so they're stuck with together and he can't ignore the pain he sees in her expression when he knows he's the cause.

"I wanted it to," Bruce tells her honestly. He had doubts at the time but his feelings were, are sincere. "He and I, we were running from the fight not you," he insists gently.

"Well, it's a different world now, Doc, we don't have the luxury of believing in fantasies."

She's protecting herself by cutting herself off, he realises. He gets why, he does and wishes he could convince her otherwise, except he's too familiar with self-preservation. What's worse than knowing what you want, and knowing you can never have it? Internal battles between knowing what you need to do and what you want to do, knowing they're very different things. Fear is a powerful emotion, he learnt a long time ago not to be ashamed of self-preservation, it was the only way to survive when he had no way to destroy the Hulk but he always felt guilty when it hurt others in the process. Cognizant or not, he hurt her, and he'll follow her lead with how they progress from now.

He's not presuming to know what her life has entailed for the last two years. All he knows is that the Avengers fell apart, and she and Steve have gone renegade since then –or perhaps it was Tony with his alliance with Ross— and he never expected her to wait for him; in his opinion, she's better off without him. Only he can't change the way he feels with the flip of a switch as evidenced by the way he reacted to a video message from her when he reconnected with Thor. He remembers hearing her voice so vividly when he was transforming he thought she was in the Quinjet with them, only to wake up to just Thor and for the Asgardian to inform him of their fate. At some stage he hopes they will be able to rekindle their friendship.

"Probably for the best," he repeats her words looking over his shoulder at the field they just fought on. Parts of the Hulkbuster litters the edge of the clearing from when Hulk burst from it's confines as the Mad Titan was fighting Steve. He simply didn't fit inside the suit to use it for protection against Thanos; though Bruce doubts it would have acted much of a shield considering how the Titan decimated them. The gauntlet is beyond anything any of them have encountered before. None of them will be the same after this.

He's gone, for now. Who knows if or when he'll return.

Whatever respite they have, will be wrought with grief and preparations for his return. The Wakandans are recovering their wounded while crying for T'Challa, their King. A humble man who Bruce wished to know better who welcomed them with open arms to fight for all life and was willing to sacrifice his own. The Avengers will shoulder this burden, they brought this fight here. The dead would still be dead even if they hadn't, but that's something Bruce refuses to voice. Arguably Wakanda has more people dead because of the Avengers, since they have those injured from the fight, and then that number was further depleted with the Snap. No one will appreciate the honesty right now. Everyone's going to be overwhelmed by this for a while, including the woman beside him as evidenced by her detached stare as she watches everyone try to gasp what happened here.

"I'm sorry," Bruce tells her quietly.

"I'm sorry too; I pushed you," Natasha admits wearily. Bruce starts shaking his head to cut off her confession but the snap of her eyes stops him. "I'm saying it because I need to say it; I did something you didn't want me too. I don't regret it because we needed the Hulk, I do regret the consequences. But I expected it the moment I kissed you. And that's what I'm sorry for and I need you to know that."

Sighing wearily, Natasha hoists herself up, and holds a hand out to him to help him do the same. "Come on Doc, there are others who need medical attention and your bedside manner."

He trails her, murmuring to himself, "Welcome home, Banner."