Natasha hovered outside the door to Bruce Banner's lab. She was clutching a broken forearm to her chest, and the addition of the broken wrist wasn't helping matters. But to her, they were minor wounds. She couldn't set the bone herself, and she didn't have anything that would make a logical split. She needed help, but she wasn't going to the hospital with a minor wound. She watched Banner through the glass of the door, wondering what he was doing. She looked down at her arm, and then at the floor. Did she bother him with it? She loathed going to the hospital. She didn't trust those people, didn't trust them with her medical history, didn't trust them with her altered physiology. It wasn't the pain that bothered her, it was the fact that she couldn't use her entire right arm. And her left was slightly compromised in that it was pinning her right to her chest. She had all but talked herself out of bothering Banner, she didn't want to mar their hesitant truce and possibly budding friendship with her needing help. That's not how things worked for her.
She was about to pivot, turn away and walk back towards the elevator, when the door slid open. She snapped her head up and stared at Bruce. He looked back at her, curiosity plain on his face. She had no idea how to begin, or where to start. She watched as his gaze traveled to her arm and his expression quickly morphed into concern.
"What happened?" He asked, reaching out to snag her uninjured elbow and guide her into his lab. Sometimes it doubled as a medical bay, Natasha knew that.
"Fell from the fifth floor, landed wrong. Forearm and wrist are broken. I can't reset them myself." She said quietly, letting him guide her. He guided her to a chair and motioned for her to sit. She did, and watched as he crouched down in front of her.
"I need to see it, Natasha." He said gently, and she had been so busy watching him that it hadn't occurred to her. It was really the least opportunistic time for her stupid little crush on him to rear its head, but she couldn't stop staring at his damn scruffy face. She angled herself so that it was easier for Bruce to look at her arm, and moved her left so that it was only barely supporting her right. She tried not to flinch as he ran his hands over her arm.
"You don't land wrong, Natasha. What actually happened?" He said as he inspected her arm, and he was right. She was extremely embarrassed about the circumstances of her new injury. She looked down at the floor.
"Was fighting a big guy, I got sloppy. He caught me in the head with the butt of his AK, knocked me off the balcony. I blacked out, and came to in midair. I tried to twist so I could land right, and I didn't have time. Tried to break my fall with my right arm and snapped it, managed to break my wrist too." She murmured, flushing slightly as she lifted her head to look at Bruce. He had his head cocked and that look of curiosity on his face again.
"You were hit in the head." He said, and it wasn't a question. Natasha nodded jerkily, she hadn't wanted to admit to that one, she knew she didn't have a concussion or anything more serious. She felt him move her left hand back so it could support her injured arm, and she tried not to flinch when he reached up to her head. She didn't like hands near her face. "Where were you hit?" He asked, and she sighed.
"Left side. I don't have a concussion, I know what those feel like." She said, and she probably should have warned him about the dried blood hiding under her hair, but she didn't. He'd find it. She did flinch when his hand brushed where she had been hit, it was still tender and sore.
"You were bleeding. How long ago was all of this?" He said, feeling the side of her head. She sucked in a breath because it fucking hurt and she had enough pain to deal with.
"About an hour ago." She said, deciding to breathe through her nose. That damned look of curiosity had returned to Bruce's face, and frankly, it was beginning to concern her. It was like he could tell there were things she wasn't telling him, and she wasn't used to being transparent. He pulled his hand back and fixed her with a look.
"It doesn't feel like your skull is cracked, but I still want to check you for a concussion. You know the drill." He said, raising a finger. She did know the drill, all too well, and she followed his finger for a few moments with her eyes, before he seemed satisfied. He stood, turning away from her.
"I'm going to have to set those bones, neither of them are aligned correctly." He said simply, and she grimaced. She had suspected as much, but she had been trying to be optimistic. He walked to the other end of the lab and returned with a brace and sling, and Natasha frowned. The brace was necessary, it was pointless to put a cast on her, she'd be mostly healed in a week, but she drew the line at a damned sling. He set both down on the table beside her and gave her a look, like he knew what she was thinking. "You're going to use the sling, too." He told her in no uncertain terms and she frowned. She knew he could have JARVIS watch her, too. She finally nodded, scowling. He then pulled out a syringe.
"I don't need that." She said reflexively, she was fine with pain. She was good.
"It's a local anesthetic." Bruce said, popping the cap off of the needle. Natasha scowled again.
"I still don't need it." She said, pulling away from him. He reached out and she stilled. He fixed her with a stronger look, and her protests died before she could voice them. She let him carefully pull her arm away from her body and inject the syringe. And then they sat there, he was obviously waiting for the drug to take effect. And Natasha welcomed the growing numbness, more than she had even realized she would. Bruce still held her injured arm in his hands, and Natasha was watching him carefully.
"I'm going to set your arm and then your wrist, okay?" He asked and she nodded. She couldn't feel that entire arm, anyway. She watched him carefully jerk her bones into position, and the only thing that remotely bothered her was the sound. He did the same with her wrist before putting the brace on. He handed her the sling and helped her situate her arm before pulling up a chair.
"Okay, talk." He said, sitting down and facing her. That open faced concern was back, but she suddenly realized she could tell him the truth about what happened, and not be judged. So she did. She spilled everything. About the fight. About why she was there, why she was fighting. How it related to her past. And she felt something within her chest surge, knowing she could trust Bruce like she was. But she wasn't about to act on it. It wasn't until he stood and carefully pulled her into her arms, as comfort, that Natasha let herself feel. She leaned into him and sighed.
"Natasha, you know you can trust me with anything, right? I'll always be your confidant." Bruce said softly, pulling away, Natasha looked up at him and smiled before snagging his collar with her good arm and pulling him in for a kiss. She trusted in the fact that he wouldn't Hulk out in surprise, but he surprised her further be returning the kiss and deepening it. She lost herself in that kiss, something she hadn't done in years. Decades.
"We need to talk about this. If there is a this." Bruce said huskily when they pulled apart, and Natasha found herself nodding. She had gotten the answer she wanted in that kiss, she was fine.