Chapter 1

Bruce's POV

"No, Thor, don't put that-!"

I look up from my science journal as Steve shouts, and I sigh and put the journal to go get one of the many fire extinguishers Tony installed once we all moved in.

Clint and Natasha both run into the room, probably drawn by the toaster exploding. Again.

"Thor! What have we told you about leaving the wrappers on?" Steve coughs as he goes to open a window and release some smoke.

Jarvis cues the ventilation system and, after a few minutes, we can all breathe again.

"Tony's going to be fuming when he gets back." Natasha sighs. "I'll go tell Taylor to keep out of the vents until they clear."

I settle back onto the couch and open the journal again. The week had been normal so far. Well, normal for us, anyways. Tony was in South America somewhere – Brazil, I think – for a business meeting, Taylor was down in the lab drawing out plans for a new suit because she was bored, Clint and Natasha were mocking Netflix releases, Steve was catching up on modern literature, with his nose buried in Fahrenheit 451, and I was exploring a new idea on practical uses of gamma radiation.

Suddenly, there's a crash and a loud bang from below our feet. I just smirk and pay it no mind – explosions are to be expected among the scientists and/or engineers in the tower, myself included.

Although, usually someone would come on the intercom and assure us that everything was okay. Everything stayed silent now.

The speakers above finally crackle to life about a minute later, and a small amount of tension leaks out of my shoulders.

"All Avengers are currently needed in lab 3A." The AI's voice is strained and urgent, something rarely heard outside of battle.

I throw my journal aside. "Jarvis, what's going on? Is Taylor okay?"

"Is someone attacking?" Steve adds.

"There are no threats detected, Captain Rogers. However, I do suggest you hurry. Miss Stark is approaching a Code Silver."

I swear and put on more speed. If Jarvis is calling a colored code, it means one of us is panicking and it's all gonna go to hell soon.

Tony assigned us all colors when we moved in. Tony himself was Code Red, I was Code Green, Thor was Code Yellow, Natasha was Code Black, Clint was – with a bit of argument – Code Purple, and Steve was Code Blue. There was a bit of an issue over Taylor's color, since both purple and black were taken. She finally decided on silver since her suit is metal, first and foremost, and metal is silver.

We all become quite dangerous in our own ways; whether it be slipping into cold-hearted assassin mode, throwing our weight around unconsciously, or being a hair's breath away from Hulk.

Taylor usually becomes a mixture between primal and hysterical, backing herself into a corner and arming herself; lashing out at whoever comes near. She also becomes dependent on the bond she shares with Tony, reverting to a scared child who desperately needs her dad to swoop in and save the day.

Crap.

Tony is currently halfway around the world.

"Jarvis, call Tony." I order the AI as I come to a stop in front of the lab doors.

"Already done, Doctor Banner. Please hurry."

He opens the lab doors and I step slowly through, bracing myself for what I might see.

She isn't in full blown panic. Not yet. Taylor is staring wide-eyed at a monitor, frozen in place and trembling. I don't know what she was looking at, but it stirred a dangerous pot.

"Taylor?" I call out softly. "Can you hear us?"

She doesn't respond, not even moving her eyes to show she heard. She may not have.

Then Steve messes up. He moves forwards and reaches out a hand before I can stop him, brushing Taylor's arm with his fingertips.

She jerks and lets out an animalistic squeal. Once she sees that he's not Tony – none of us are Tony – she backs up quickly, tripping over her own feet in the process. She ends up backed up into a corner of the lab, staring at all of us with wide, unseeing eyes.

"Okay, touching, not a good idea." Steve concludes softly.

I back up an inch at a time, my eyes never leaving the bundle of fear I the corner, until I'm standing in front of the monitor her eyes were trained on earlier.

The screen is frozen mid-frame, depicting some kind of explosion. Explosions themselves shouldn't set her off; Taylor loves watching action movies. This must be in the details.

"Jarvis," I mumble, "what was she watching?"

"Miss Stark was doing a bit of research on the explosive redundant needs of the newest suit models. She happened to come across this particular video, which is dated from about 2011 and features…"

"Features what, Jarvis?"

"Features a Stark Industries explosive, Doctor Banner."

I swear again quietly as he rewinds the video about ten seconds and I'm left staring at a metal bomb casing with STARK INDUSTRIES printed clearly in blue and white.

She must have seen the logo on the bomb – something she hasn't seen in over six years – and been paralyzed by memories of her childhood making weapons of mass destruction before she graduated high school.

Which, for her, was twelve, but still.

I instruct Jarvis to freeze the screen again and slowly make my way back over to the others.

Taylor's breaths are getting shorter and quicker with each inhale, and she's started whimpering.

"Jarvis, where is Tony?"

"Another two hours away, Doctor Banner."

"Maybe she doesn't need Tony exactly."

I send Natasha a skeptical look. In previous attacks, it had been made quite clear that only Tony could calm her down. Anyone else who got within three feet of her when she was like this had a death wish.

"Maybe not Tony, per say, just someone extremely close, special or important." she explains.

We all turn to look at Clint, the closest to 'his sparrow' other than Tony.

He sighs and mutters something about nominating the boyfriend but slowly crouches to make himself a less-imposing figure.

Once he's settled on his knees, he raises his hands – open palmed, but not reaching out.

"Taylor." he whispers gently. "Can you hear me? It's me, Clint. You're safe, you're at home. Come on, it's okay."

She just shrinks further into the corner, her breathing getting even shorter and her whimpers increasing in volume and pitch.

"If Clint doesn't work, no one else will." I sigh. "We need Tony. Why did this have to happen now?"

"It's not her fault, Doc." Clint snaps. "Not like she planned this."

I rub the bridge of my nose. "I know. Sorry, it's just the timing-"

I'm cut off by Taylor's whimpers finally exploding into sobs and wails for her dad.

Clint purses his lips and nods.

"Do we need to-"

"Nobody touch her!" Natasha is cut off by a familiar voice, one I have never been so glad to hear.

We all look up to see Tony taking the stairs two at a time, suit jacket hung over his shoulders and hair still sweaty.

He weaves his way through us, stopping about three feet away from his sobbing, wailing daughter.

"Taylor."

All it takes is one word out of his mouth for her to pause slightly. "…dad?"

He gives her a warm, toothy smile, holding his arms out. "Right here, sweetie."

And then suddenly Taylor isn't in the corner anymore; she's in Tony's lap, and he's kneeling on the floor with his jacket draped over her back, slowly rocking her.

Thought you were in Brazil? I mouthed at him.

Jarvis called, he mouths back, what set her off?

I tip my head towards the monitor with the bomb with the logo and watch as his eyes darken a shade.

He starts humming something, so I take a step back to look at the team.

Thor and Steve both look worried, scared, relived, and confused at the same time. Natasha is watching Taylor, Tony, and the monitor with dark eyes, but I can see a shimmer of concern in there. Clint is showing his concern more openly; biting his lip and tracking Taylor's every move.

I feel horrible. No, I did not have anything to do with it, but it hurts whenever anyone has any sort of attack. Plus, the fact that Taylor's only nineteen and traumatized enough to have this happen rubs salt in the wound.

Eventually Taylor's sobs turn into hiccups and Tony stops rocking, still holding in until she's fully back into the present. She mumbles something and wriggles out of Tony's arms.

She turns slowly and sees the rest of us, a shadow crossing her face as she turns back to Tony, the unasked question hanging heavy in the room.

Tony gives a small nod, and she spins back to the rest of us with a shy smile on her face. "Thanks, guys. Thanks for trying, anyways."

Everybody just grins at her, and all the speaking is left to me. "No problem, Taylor. You would have done you same for us. In fact, you have."

She just beams and ducks her head slightly to regain her composure.

Together, the Starks manage to rope us all into a group hug.

I will never confirm nor deny that Taylor blew her nose in my shoulder.