Walk It Off

by Bobbie23

"If you feel lost, disappointed, hesitant, or weak, return to yourself, to who you are, here and now and when you get there, you will discover yourself, like a lotus flower in full bloom, even in a muddy pond, beautiful and strong." Masaru Emoto.

Disclaimer – I don't own anything, just borrowing.

Walk It Off

"If you feel lost, disappointed, hesitant, or weak, return to yourself, to who you are, here and now and when you get there, you will discover yourself, like a lotus flower in full bloom, even in a muddy pond, beautiful and strong."
― Masaru Emoto, Secret Life of Water

The first postcard arrives a week after Fury tells her about the crash in the Banda Sea and she barely reacts aside from a double blink and a tiny pause when Vision hands it to her over breakfast. Beside her, Steve opens his mouth but doesn't say anything as she tucks it into the paper she's reading. She won't examine it front of the team, she doesn't want to be more exposed than she already is. She looks at the postcard in her room that night, mulling over the missing words she tells herself she doesn't need. There's nothing but her name and address written in his scruffy scrawl. It's not what she wants, nowhere near, but it's enough because he's alive. This time last week she thought this would ease her heart. It only cracks a little more. She rolls onto her side, pulls the quilt tighter around her and settles in for another sleepless night.

Two weeks pass and she finds out the first postcard is actually the second when Tony tosses one at her when he arrives to upgrade Sam and Rhodey's suits. This time she doesn't bother to hide her examination for two reasons, one it's just her and Tony and Tony won't move on till she focuses on the picturesque front for a moment before flipping it in her fingers, and two, Tony probably misses Bruce more than she does. She at least understands the appeal of leaving. The postcard is crumpled and worn and she suspects Tony has been carrying it around with him for a while. There aren't any words on this one either, just her name, the Towers' address and the date, a month before the last. She's aware of Tony's glare hidden behind his glasses. He hasn't said anything but she knows he partly blames her for Bruce leaving without a word. He shouldn't be surprised; he had been banking on her to make the decision if they needed her to. Tony was only upset because he didn't realise Bruce was leaving no matter what happened in Sokovia.

"You gonna go after him?"

"He's in the wind." Natasha looks down at the picture on the front, careful to keep her thumb and forefinger at the edge so not mar the perfect sandy beach disappearing into a deep blue ocean. Calm, relaxing, peaceful. Untouched by technology, people, or war. She won't disrupt that for him.

"If Banner wanted to disappear without a trace, he would. He's done it before," he pauses, his voice softening. "He's never deliberately left a trail for anyone to follow."

A retort about the Pied Piper dances on her tongue but she can't bring herself to say it. "He's moved on." She breathes in and tucks the postcard into her pocket. "You knew what I was going to do, it's why you sent him to find me instead of Clint."

"He only agreed to a rescue mission," Tony defends as he backs away to stare out of the window, avoiding her gaze as she realises he was going to say something else and thought better of it. "Otherwise he was going to wait at the Tower."

"Maybe he should have," Natasha tells him softly, she barely recognises her own voice. If he had, she and Tony wouldn't be having this conversation.

"We needed him," Tony says simply.

She doesn't say anything else, just stares at his back as he leans on the large window frame. Her redirection only confirms what she already knew. She also isn't the only who blames themselves for Bruce's disappearance. The sombre silence is cut through by Rhodey and Sam flying past the window, hollering at them as they test their suits. Tony takes it as his cue to go oversee the results and heads down to greet them when they land.

Behind her, Natasha hears Wanda enter the room to put her cereal bowl in the sink. She feels rather than sees her pause in the doorway as she slowly backs out and Natasha waits. Usually Natasha tries to avoid being alone with the younger woman. It's hard to keep her emotions in check but Wanda knows just by looking at her and can't control her own reaction to Natasha's thoughts and feelings. Natasha doesn't need Wanda as a tell she can't control especially when the kid stammers an apology before scurrying away. Natasha lets her go without acknowledgement because it's easier. She doesn't really want to go into detail about what happened when the Witch directed the Hulk to rip a city apart or the trip down memory lane enforced on her. Her powers make Natasha wearier, she put the whole team through the ringer without really trying. It helps to see Wanda working hard to make up for everything she did when she was working with Strucker and Ultron, of all people Natasha can understand that.

When she's alone she pulls the card out of her pocket and contemplates it. It would be easy to track and only take a few hours to narrow down possible new locations. She knows what to look for, she read his file a dozen times before she was assigned to bring him in from Calcutta. Natasha hadn't been lying when she told him SHIELD was tracking him, but what she had neglected to tell him was that he occasionally made it difficult for them. For someone who was untrained at covering their steps he became good at it very quickly and she had been impressed by that long before she met him. She was further intrigued by the contradiction he was in person, bumbling and skittish yet confident with a dark, often self-depreciating, sense of humour much like her own. He matched her arguments without missing a beat and got her to show herself and pull a gun without much effort. Then he apologised for messing with her, raising his hands in surrender and a quirk of his lips. Disappearing with him would have been easy.

It's tempting to take off after him even if it's just to apologise then leave him be. The only thing stopping her is the lack of words on the back of the postcards. There's no 'wish you were here' or any other invitation to join him. They aren't a trail for her to follow, they're a trail for him to follow home when he's ready. This is his call and she'll respect that. Bruce would never taunt her deliberately and she hopes they're not just a courtesy check in to let her know he's safe. This one makes her feel better than the other, at least it's not a one off. She hopes there'll be more.

And there are.

There's no pattern to their arrival, no invitation either. She impassively studies them in front of others as she fields the inevitable questions and tucks them away in the same drawer in her quarters at night. There is no bow, just an elastic band to hold them together. Instead of yearning to share this part of his life with him, she enjoys the reassurance Bruce gives her when he owes her none.

She doesn't advertise it to Tony but he always knows when a postcard arrives. He doesn't mention them anymore because they no longer arrive at the Tower. She notes the stress and agitation as the weeks go on. He's fraying around the edges. She's reminded of when they first met, his extreme partying, his self-recrimination. He's thrown and attended several parties lately, all without Pepper at his side. Natasha isn't the only concerned about the toll the fallout from Sokovia and Ultron is taking on the billionaire. According to Hill, Tony's actively avoiding his better half and spends most of his time in the lab working on new suits, much to Pepper's disappointment. Without Pepper or Bruce to distract him with different projects he's obsessing and spiralling, closing himself off from those still around. While she knows he's not going to snap out of his self-imposed isolation without intervention, she's not going to overstep because he'll go on the defensive, burrowing himself deeper in his work and find excuses to stop these weekly excursions to the new facility.

Natasha sighs. For a group of people who preferred to live solitary lives, they came to rely on each other quickly. She misses living with them. Their personalities shouldn't mesh but they did. Of course there were arguments, mostly between Tony and Steve, but they made it work. She had been lost after the fall of SHIELD with nowhere to go. She couldn't head for the Barton's farm, too many eyes were watching her and she would never lead the world to the one place she cherished. That small quaint farmhouse decorated with kids' pictures and toys scattered on the floor was the nearest she would ever get to having a home. Her job and training had no meaning there, all she had to be was 'Auntie Nat'. She was desperately missing the family who had adopted her, she had only spoken to Clint once before she leaked the files because a phone call after would be too risky, when Tony extended an invitation of refuge at the Tower. For a man who deliberately shut himself off but he is generous to those he considers friends and allies. It had been an adjustment for all of them, not an unwelcome one. For the first time in years she found herself without a cover and with no other option besides moving into the Tower. She had been forced into possible permanent retirement, no job offers aside from the few times Pepper asked her to consult on security for Stark Industries' new projects. It didn't matter that she was one of the best, no one wanted to employ someone who dumped their former employers' secrets all over the net. In simple terms, she had been bored until Bruce unintentionally provided himself as a distraction.

….

"Please tell me you're only watching that so you can erase it from the internet," Bruce's voice rings out behind her. Her hand hovers over the keyboard as she pauses the video clip of the Hulk pulling apart a Chitauri foot soldier.

"You know that's never gonna happen, right?" She looks over her shoulder to find him stepping into the room concentrating on the image of her laptop. He doesn't look at her, his face aghast with what she can only describe as morbid fascination at what his alter ego is doing. "You've never watched any of these, have you?"

Bruce stops next to her and squints through his glasses at the screen.

"I don't need to watch videos to see the damage he does," Bruce murmurs finally when he slumps into the chair beside her and finally meets her eyes. He's momentarily lost and she wonders if it's triggered a memory. She doesn't prod or force him to open up before he's ready, she doubts he ever will be. It's progress though, she half expected him to turn on his heel and flee the room at the sight of the Hulk. "Why are you watching them?"

It was her turn to pause. She already knows how he'll react to her reasoning and for a second she's tempted to lie. His attention is briefly drawn back to the laptop when she closes it and he relaxes. He turns so he sits sideways on the chair to face her, waiting with a guarded expression. Once more she second guesses telling him the truth because she doesn't want it to be awkward between them again, they've come a long way since that first meeting in Calcutta. When Natasha arrived weeks earlier Bruce welcomed her with a soft, genuine smile. He didn't ask for an explanation or demand an apology over his files, she gave him one anyway and he understood her reasons. He was glad someone had the guts to do it and unlike others he also understood the ramifications she may face. They didn't talk for long because Tony interrupted with his usual barrage of hyperbole but she couldn't help but notice how settled Bruce was compared to the first time she met him and she was left yearning for that for herself.

"Why are you doing this Natasha?" He asks again and she hears the concern. As she predicted he automatically assumes something is wrong.

"Careful Doc, sometimes people don't want to hear what they want to hear," she warns playfully as she turns to face him and realises her teasing failed to avail his worries.

"I do," he insists and she marvels how his voice doesn't lose that warm quality even he's wary. It may not make him feel better about any of this but he appreciates honesty. She knows it's a rare thing in his life and many people manipulate it to their own end and he knows Natasha has experienced less than he has.

"I wanted to be prepared if we need him again," she tells him simply.

"You were right, sometimes what I want to hear isn't what I want to hear," Bruce murmurs. He removes his glasses and massages the bridge of his nose. "I won't be used as a weapon."

"There could be others, Thor was convinced someone else was pulling Loki's strings," she reasons gently.

"Same thing, different words," Bruce bites back. The veins in his neck begin to pulse and his body tightens.

"Bruce, I'm trying to figure out how to work with him rather than use him." He breathes in sharply and she gives him a furtive once over to check for any signs of the change. There's no green hue threatening to spread across his skin so she looks to his face to finds his eyes screwed shut behind his hand. She inches closer to the edge of her chair, her knee brushing his. He jerks away automatically as his eyes spring open. Deep brown, she notes as he blinks rapidly, meeting her eyes as he relaxes and his knee moves back to hers. She needs to distract him and the quickest way to do that is get is by surprising him. Before she can second guess herself she carefully reaches out to the hand on his face. They're both weary of physical contact, him more than her. Outside of a mission it was rare for Natasha to initiate it, rarer for her to use it to soothe anyone. She specialises in putting people at ease by taking them out of their comfort zone, she's never dealt with someone who has the same boundaries as her who guards them just as fiercely. There's an agreement between them, non-verbal and instinctual. Maybe that's why it's easier for her to move into his space; maybe that's why it's easier for him to accept her presence. She files that away as she's not prepared to deal with her own reaction to that information yet. Her hand touches his, her index finger stroking the back lightly as her thumb skims his pulse point as it curls into his palm to pull his hand away from his face. He lets her lower their entwined hands to his leg, their eyes hold when she doesn't release him as they both get used to the sensation.

"He's not going away, Bruce."

"You think I don't know that?" He asks tiredly. He doesn't give her a chance to answer. "Why would you want to work with him after what he did?"

"You already apologised for that." Bruce scoffs and he lets go of her hand. Natasha mastered interrogations years before she graduated the Red Room and reads a situation quicker than most. Bruce hates being coddled for what the Hulk and shoulders that responsibility. Natasha understands his abhorrence for the destruction the Hulk leaves in his wake. He will never accept the praise or letters of thanks which were sent in droves after the battle against the Chitauri, he will never accept being labelled as a hero. Truth was they would never have been able to win if he hadn't been there to help and his dismissive attitude toward his contribution irks her. "What's worse? Feeling the need to apologise or that I accepted your apology?"

"Caught me off guard," he defends petulantly.

"Why?" She's genuinely curious as she remembers the long, assessing look he gave her when she'd told him 'We could use a little worse.'

"No one's ever been that understanding," he replies.

"Have you ever stuck around long enough to give anyone the chance to be?" She knows her assessment is correct when he shakes his head guiltily.

"Not really," his eyes shift away quickly only to be drawn back when her hand touches his again.

"Bruce, I know you would never hurt me and he was reacting to an attack. If I was him, I would've done the same thing."

"You probably would've done it with less destruction and a lot more grace."

"Probably," she smiles at the oddly phrased yet sincere compliment. "You don't terrify me Bruce," she adds.

"I terrify me."

"Why?" Natasha asks and he looks surprised. "What?"

"No one's ever asked me that," Bruce tells her and she knows he means never gave anyone the opportunity to ask. She doesn't expect him to answer but he surprises her when he does. "Aside from the obvious, I'm afraid there'll be a day when I don't change back."

"You've managed to get a handle on changing into the Big Guy," Natasha comments.

"It's not full proof, high stress situations can trigger it and I lose all control."

"Like being blown up," she gives him a slanted smile. He smiles back briefly.

"Like being blown up," Bruce mimics. "I can't remember the change back. I wake up in a pile of bricks with my trousers around my ankles and a throbbing headache."

She exhales to cover the snicker threatening to escape at the image. "You never tried?"

"I would need help to keep track of what he does and I'm not willing to risk anyone in that kind of situation. Changing back is on him." His eyes flick to the laptop. "Have you found any clips where he…?" He nods to it, his curiosity piqued.

"No, but I'm sure Stark must have something from after we stopped Loki," at Bruce's frown she explains. "The man has surveillance everywhere. Maybe he could-"

"Tony has a few ideas of his own," Bruce interjects. "Most of them involve containment which is ineffective although a better design than what's been tried before."

"What about the ones that don't involve containment?"

"They involve a Hulk sized suit," he explains. "It's more to distract and redirect than stop the Other Guy, try to get him away from people before he hurts anyone. A lot like Thor did on the Hellicarrier and in New York."

"But he's not around at the moment, so Tony stepped in."

"Yeah."

"What's stopping you from working on it?"

"Nothing," Bruce shrugs. "Tony would work on it with or without my permission."

"I'm sure he would," she mutters, surprised the billionaire considered asking for Bruce's approval. "You're around people who are able and want to help you for you not to use you or the Big Guy as a weapon."

"That's all anyone has ever thought of him as." Natasha doesn't miss how he includes himself in sharing that notion. Creating a soldier, a weapon, was the aim of the experiment that started all of this for him. That notion could be applied to any of them.

"Weapons aren't always the answer," she tells him softly.

"Never thought I'd hear that from you."

"Other means are just as important. My point is you're not comfortable with combat and we not going to force you or hold it against you. If you choose to step into the field, we'll support you. If you don't, we'll support you. Either way you've got a problem you can't solve by yourself, as your friends we want to help."

"We? Tony's the only-."

"I have an idea," she offers. Bruce rears back slightly, already back tracking in his head before he's heard her out. She leans forward, her mouth opening because he hasn't made a move to leave. "You said the change back was up to him, maybe someone needs to help him realise when it's time."

"No." This time he stands and backs away from her, his head shaking vehemently when he turns to pace the room.

"Bruce-."

"No!" He repeats firmly. "I'm not going risk that."

"I'm well aware of the risk Bruce." He makes a face. She stands and leans against the desk in front of her laptop, crossing her arms over her chest. "I still think there's a chance."

Bruce huffs out a sarcastic laugh. "I change my mind; you terrify me." She flashes him a slanted smirk which disappears when he glares back at her.

"I know it's hard but you need to trust us."

"It's not about trusting you, it's about trusting him not to hurt you."

"He worked with us during the battle, he didn't try to hurt any of us. Besides Thor," she wrinkles her nose and Bruce pinches his with a groan. "But he laughed it off. I'm pretty sure he sees the Big Guy as a workout buddy." Bruce gives her a dubious glare that does little to deter her. "Trust me to trust him."

She was confident in her idea but it took them weeks to test it. She wants Bruce to be comfortable with her before they did anything with the Hulk. They make a concerted effort to spend time together, she insists on trips out of the Tower because she never explored a city as a tourist before and she knew Tony would never tag along if he couldn't make a spectacle out of it, limiting their attention to each other. There were lulls in the conversation but it was companionable rather than from a lack of rapport. Bruce is initially reluctant to brave the crowds out of potential collateral damage but he relaxes into their excursions easily.

She eases him into it by finding a dive of a movie theatre which showed classic movies once a week. They were less likely to be recognised in a dark theatre and attract unwanted attention from the public. He grumbles about being able to watch them at the tower and she argue back saying the experience was as important as the film. They sit side by side in seats that don't have cup holders but have springs threatening to poke them in the back enjoying the black and white movies.

On the night they screen Casablanca the seats are packed and Bruce sits stiffly in his chair, trying not to be overwhelmed by the number of people. Even she's amazed by the crowd drawn tonight and she eyes him without being noticed. Her heart drops, he had been looking forward to tonight and he was curled into his seat, his jaw twitching, his hand balled into a fist between them. Needing to get attention, she drops her hand to find his. At first he flinches. It doesn't deter her; she was expecting him to. His drags his eyes to hers as her fingers loosely circle his wrist and stroke his pulse point slowly. Neither comment, unwilling to break the spell as she silently compels him to focus on her. She breathes slowly and stares into his eyes and soon his breathing follows the same pattern. He relaxes into his seat, his gratitude clear in his eyes as he stares at her intently as if he's seeing her for the first time. Maybe he is. Natasha gives him a tiny lopsided smile and ducks her head to hide the heat in her cheeks. The moment is broken when the lights dim and credits roll. On impulse she tucks herself into the divide between their seats. With their jackets folded in their laps, their bare arms connect from shoulder to wrist. With her head inclined towards him she turns her attention to the screen, aware that he hasn't. Minutes later Bruce follows her lead. She keeps stroking his wrist long after his heart beat calms.

A week later Bruce agrees to transform to test her theory and they inform the other Avengers who meet the idea with curiosity and enthusiasm. It's clear from the expression on Bruce's face that he was he was hoping they would dissuade her from going through with it. Unfortunately, he's out voted when Tony offers Stark Industries' testing ground upstate for a trial run.

The Hulk smashes around, mostly uprooting trees, for over an hour. He doesn't make a move toward her or the rest of the team who are observing from a distance, far enough not to piss him off, close enough to extract her if necessary. They're quiet for now, equally intrigued as she is about the possibilities. She sits quietly at the edge of the clearing and only approaches him when he sits on the ground looking up at the sun going down over the horizon. He squints at the view and huffed a little. An affectionate smiled graces her lips as she moves slowly into his eye line, trying to appear as nonthreatening as possible. "Hey Big Guy."

She notes a tiny spark of recognition when he snarls lightly but makes no move to stop her. She pauses anyway and waits for his next move which is another huff at the dwindling light. "Sun's getting real low," she comments and receives a grunt in response.

She maintains eye contact with him. She's never seen him this calm, a complete contrast to her other encounters. She can't help searching for a hint of Bruce in his eyes. They're just as observant, the Hulk is less covert though. She lets him get used to her being there. She isn't aiming to succeed this time; she wants to see the transformation first hand so she knows what she's dealing with the aim to be able to read the signs. Maybe it's already begun. It's hard to tell with the way the Hulk is studying her. At a loss for what to do next, Natasha waits it out.

They stay like that for a while. When the sun dips lower and the temperature begins to drop he surprises her by presenting her with his wrist. She gasps softly unsure at first what he expects her to do. Natasha looks into his eyes and he flicks his gaze to his wrist meaningfully and she realises what he wants her to do. She watches his eyes watching her slowly peel off one of her gloves. His mouth gapes slightly and she realises she's holding her breath too as she reaches out to touch him. Her index finger bounces when he flinches like Bruce does and she supresses a smile at the thought, knowing it wouldn't be appreciated. Her hand follows his arm as it drops slightly but he refocuses on her face and steadies his arm for her.

He lets Natasha take her time to feel the strong muscle of his forearm. His skin is smoother than it looks and warm like Bruce's. She struck by his patience as well the power and strength. He's capable of more than anyone gave him a chance to do. She sucks in a breath, in awe at the unique opportunity he's offering her, the trust he's showing her. She has no idea how Bruce will react to any of this when she tells him. She wants her experience to encourage him, allow him a small measure of hope.

She drags her fingers down his wrist and over his palm to flick off his fingers. This time the Hulk recoils at the loss of contact and she steps forward as he sluggishly rises to his feet. He trips and stumbles and she follows closely, intent on helping him if necessary. He begins to shrink and his skin lightens, the pink hue spreading fast as he slumps to the floor again. Bruce lays there groaning for second before rolling onto his back, his trousers loose around his waist. He blinks and rubs his eyes, breathing heavily. Suddenly he turns to look at her, meeting her eyes meaningfully and she offers him a shy smile as she sees the thanks he can't voice yet. A warmth spreads through her chest as he rolls to stand, holding onto his trousers as he does. The significance isn't lost on her and she looks away to offer them both a moment of privacy before they are overrun by the rest of their team who she can hear announce their intention through the comm in her ear.

….

Sitting in the quiet living quarters of the new base reiterates the changes in her life. The formal military base feels like a step back rather than forward especially after she was prepared to leave it all behind. She could still walk away on her own but that lonely existence doesn't hold the same appeal it once did.

Weeks turn into months and Natasha copes the only way she knows how; she does her job. She clings onto her old life; the familiar routine offers her something to focus on. She follows Steve's lead. Without Tony to incessantly question every decision he copes better here than in the Tower. Steve grasps on to the fight because it's the one thing that didn't change in the years he was in the ice. The fight is the same as it was then. The tech and weaponry may have been upgraded but principle is the same.

She helps Steve train the new Avengers, moulding them into some kind of unit. She holds her tongue and doesn't voice the poor comparisons her mind makes to the retired counter parts. They don't knit together like the old team did, none of them understand the necessity of working together with exception of Sam and Rhodey who have most combat experience of the four. Wanda is still grieving Pietrov, sometimes too overwhelmed by her grief and guilt she holes up in her room. Natasha lets Steve handle those pep talks.

And Vision is still a quandary to her. She feels like she's known him for years and he certainly has the personality of the AI system Tony created to run his company but subtle differences remind her of the inconceivable trio that created him, from his occasional unexpected sarcasm that reminds her of Tony but is delivered like Bruce does to the cape he created for himself to emulate Thor.

They valiantly try to live up to their predecessors, they fall short in Natasha's eyes. Each of them is powerful in their own right but they haven't had the years' worth of practice to hone their skills. Steve notices as well but he's too stubborn to give up on them and she's learnt not to give up on him when he's determined. Steve pushes them hard but Natasha is the task master when it comes to training. Natasha wants something other than recon missions to bring them together but in her heart she knows they're not ready for more and she doesn't want to expose the holes in their team to any operatives they encounter.

Days before the three-month anniversary of Sokovia, Natasha manages to take a break from training when she heads to the Barton's farm to finally meet her new nephew. As soon as she arrives Lila informs her with a pout that she's been gone too long but is easily appeased with a long hug and an afternoon of drawing pictures. Natasha coos over the youngest Barton child as well as the older ones and pointedly ignores the pangs of her heart when she attempts to sleep in the same bed she shared with Bruce months ago. His presence lingers in the room and she dreams that she is back in his arms for a few short hours. The Barton's innate ability to ground her help lift her spirits for the duration of her stay but they soon crash back down when she leaves.

Another postcard is waiting for her when she returns to the facility. She stares at it wistfully for a long moment, wishing it was more than a coincidence. She slides it in her drawer with the rest.

One more arrive before she sees Tony again. She notes the bags under his eyes but his step is lighter than last time and she wonders whether Pepper forced him to take a break or at least get some sleep. This time he takes Steve aside and tries talking to him about the cracks in the new team. She listens while feigning disinterest as Tony backs him into a corner with a quick speech designed to confuse rather than clarify in a way Tony perfected years ago.

"You remember how the last party the Avengers threw ended?" Steve asks.

"Just a few trusted friends then, nothing over the top," Tony promises clapping a hand on Steve's shoulder. At Steve's incredulous look he adds, "Not too over the top."

Still Steve looks reluctant to agree and Tony doesn't give him enough time to tell him no. "My point is, they all need a break even if it's just one night out of here," he gestures at the room and the rest of the team gathered around the island in the open plan living area pretending not to listen.

Natasha looks past Steve to see Sam glance at her over his shoulder with a silent plea for her to intervene. When did she become the referee? She sighs, she doesn't want to take sides but this conversation is going nowhere fast. While she understands the amount of work they need to do with the team but a break will help everyone relax, Steve included. "Relax Cap, Stark's just lonely now that we've all moved out."

"Knew I could count on your support Red," Tony scoffs.

"Anytime," she smirks back and does her best not to acknowledge the barely discernible look of appreciation he sends her way. Maybe she isn't far off the mark with her comment. She's seen first-hand what bottling things up does to Tony, he just ends up pushing everyone away. Compulsive and self-destructive, as she described him years ago. The self-imposed isolation is usually the precursor to something more dramatic, and she worries it'll end the same if not worse than Ultron did. If he wasn't the one reaching out she would wish for more than a postcard, just to help Tony settle.

"Right it's settled, this weekend – sleepover at the Tower, bring the kids," Tony says with a flourish before Steve can say anything else. Natasha raises an eyebrow as the new team exchange smiles of their own. She smothers her own as Steve reluctantly agrees.

…

Natasha faces Friday afternoon traffic to travel into the city to corner Tony alone and grill him on his ulterior motive before the rest of the team follow in the morning. She also wants an evening to herself in her old room. Aside from the Red Room and the Barton's guest room, she's lived here longer than anywhere else. She passes a mass of people setting up for tomorrow, hardly surprised Tony played down the scale of the party he was planning. She heads for the elevator to take her to the private living area. The elevator stops and swooshes open when she swipes her hand at the reader. FRIDAY's Irish lilt greets her, "Welcome Ms Romanoff."

"Stark in his lab, FRIDAY?" Natasha asks.

"The boss left for his Malibu property this morning. He plans to be back by morning."

She rolls her eyes. Typical. With that in mind she hopes it means he's reconciling with Pepper, the woman has a unique ability to calm the man and make him somewhat bearable. She doesn't want to spend the day running interference between him and Steve, it was easier when the others were here to distract them.

Natasha sweeps her gaze over the immaculate communal living room as she rests her go bag on the large coffee table in the centre of the couches. She sits without looking only to feel a soft lump in her back as she drops back onto the cushions. She pulls it out from under her to discover it's a sweater belonging to Bruce. It dangles from her hand as she looks around the room again, it's definitely been cleaned since they all lived there. If she didn't know better, it looked like Tony hadn't lived there since they lived there. In a way that was true.

She stiffens and brings the garment closer, the smell of his usual aftershave lingers on the wool. She swallows hard, the ball in the pit of her stomach clenching tightly. "FRIDAY?"

"Yes Ms Romanoff?"

Natasha steals herself as she forces the words from her lips. "Is anyone else here?"

"Doctor Banner in his lab checking the messages which arrived while he was gone."

"How long has he been back?" The question falls out with an urgency she needs to reel in.

"Four days." Two before Tony invited them to the city. "Do you want me to alert him to your presence?"

"No, I'll do that myself." She stands as she says it and walks purposefully towards the lab. Her legs carry her quickly and she's soon standing in the open doorway of his lab.

He's sitting in his chair at the corner terminal with his back to her, typing a reply on the keyboard. She follows the movement of his fingers up his arm and over the light blue sleeve folded over his elbow to his shoulders. Her eyes travel up his neck to his ruffled black curls. She can only see the side of his face but it's focused on the screen. She raises her hand to knock on the door frame. He blinks a few times as he spins to look at her. His feet break the chairs' momentum when he meets her eyes.

"Natasha," he utters softly when he over comes his shock.

"You're back," she announces entering the lab. He pushes off of the chair to meet her in the centre of the room.

"I was going to call you," Bruce starts.

"Why call when you can send a postcard?" He winces at her jibe. She regrets it the instant it leaves her lips. She never intended to say anything to him, she should be the one apologising.

"I'm sorry," he says.

"Me too," she tells him with a sigh. "I should never have pushed you."

"You think I left because of that?"

"You didn't?"

He looks torn between answering her and running away from her. His shirt brushes against as he pushes past. She spins to follow only to find him circling the lab, fiddling with equipment as he passes.

"He made that decision, not me."

"You never fought him on it Bruce."

"You were hurt doing the lullaby," he sighs. He leans against the work bench on the far side of his room.

"He thought it was because of the lullaby," she concludes gently.

Bruce nods, not really able to explain how he's aware of alter ego's reasoning, not wanting to acknowledge that connection. "He realised people would hurt you to get to him."

His defence of the Hulk is refreshing and heart breaking at the same time. And she poorly decides to defuse the tension with a joke. "You two go into couples' therapy?"

Bruce rewards her attempt with a small chuckle. "We found some common ground," Bruce says with a shake of his head. She notes that the wistful inflection isn't reflected in the yearning in his eyes. "You're the one thing he and I agree on."

"If you were going to leave on your own, why come to Sokovia at all?"

"I wasn't going to leave without you Natasha, I never wanted you to assume that. I was waiting for you at the Tower, my bag was packed but I was waiting," Bruce promises. She believes him. "Then Barton landed with the cradle and said you were missing. When Steve did the briefing, I asked to find you. That wasn't Steve's or Tony's idea."

"Clint could've found me and you could've helped with the evacuation."

Bruce shakes his head. "If anything happened, I needed you to be in a position to stop the other guy."

"I'm sorry I pushed you Bruce," she says barely recognising her own voice.

"No," he replies. "I trusted you to make that decision if he was needed when I wouldn't." He let that sink in for a second and lifts off the work bench to move toward her. "I understood why you pushed me, I get it. It hurt but it would've hurt more if you hadn't and they lost without us."

Natasha accepts his explanation with a bob of her head. "You could've said goodbye."

"If I tried, I never would have left."

Her eyes meet his warm browns, the perfect blend of sincere, guilt and hope. "I could've lived with that," she murmurs invitingly. She steps forward. "With you."

He blushes and she licks her lips when her takes another step in her direction. "To risk sounding like Steve, I needed to walk it off." She flashes him her slanted smirk. "I needed time to get my head together after Johannesburg and I couldn't do that in the Tower or the compound. I didn't want to risk being complacent."

"You were never complacent Bruce."

"Wasn't I? I thought I had a handle on it, I let myself believe this could work." His tone is sharp, confident and unapologetic as he tells her what they both know. "I'm glad you couldn't attempt a lullaby that day because he would've ripped you apart without realising." Natasha involuntarily shudders at the image evoked by the words and her memories of the first time she faced the Hulk. There's a long moment before she speaks.

"Why did you come back?"

Bruce scratches the back of his neck as he drops his gaze to the floor to cover his wince. Her heart drops as she realises it wasn't for her. When he comes to the decision to explain he lifts his head.

"I was on my way home anyway. I got this side of the Mexican border and saw a clip of Tony on the news," Bruce sighs. "He didn't look good so I called to check on him. He was low," he explains. His choice of words wasn't lost on her, recalling the time Bruce described his own suicide attempt. "We talked for a while, then he picked me up in the jet a couple of hours later."

Natasha closes the distance between them to reach for his hand, he slides his fingers through hers and squeezes. She says nothing, she's won't ask him to betray their friend by asking for the details of their conversation. She'd seen the same signs; it was why she came ahead of the others. Bruce called when he was needed. Hopefully this was an end to it all.

"I was going to call," Bruce says. His forehead dips closer to hers. "But I didn't think you'd answer."

"I would have. Why didn't you write anything on the back of the cards?"

"It didn't seem right to apologise in writing. You could've found me."

"You never asked me too," she whispers.

"I was coming home because I ran out of stamps," Bruce mumbles self-consciously. "I was trying to be romantic."

"You were," Natasha teases. Her free hand lifts to his stomach, she doesn't press when he recoils as he sucks in a breath. Her fingers run over the buttons before drawing the fabric into her grasp. She makes him wait when she sees his eyes drop to her lips. "Why?"

"Guess I wanted to keep our window open."

"You're such a dork," Natasha quips affectionately and resists pulling him to her.

His nose rubs against hers when he chuckles. "I have it on good authority that women like that."

Unable to resist any more Natasha tilts her chin and closes the distance between them.

"Farewells can be shattering, but returns are surely worse. Solid flesh can never live up to the bright shadow cast by its absence. Time and distance blur the edges; then suddenly the beloved has arrived, and it's noon with its merciless light, and every spot and pore and wrinkle and bristle stands clear."
― Margaret Atwood, The Blind Assassin