Title: foreign constellations
Disclaimer: -disclaimed-
Pairing: Bruce/Natasha
Summary: Bruce was nowhere to be found; Natasha waited for him even as she found herself hemmed in by fear and anxiety.
AN: This is set just after Age of Ultron. Thanks for reading, hope you'll enjoy this.
Roast beef, Caesar salad, steaming cups of aromatic coffee. Children's playthings strewn around the dining room. A thunderstorm of a melody being hammered out on the old piano. Days-old stains on the white shirts in the laundry basket. Dirty dishes in the sink, too many to count.
Natasha rubbed her temples and sighed. Where to begin? There was so much to do – so many chores to take care of, the children to care for, and Bruce – what was one woman supposed to do with a family that needed so much babying?
"Bruce," Natasha said. "Come here, won't you?"
No one appeared.
"Bruce?"
The child playing the piano had stopped by now, and the entire house was silent. Natasha stood up, dropping the dirty laundry onto the floor. "Bruce? You there, hon?"
Silence, again silence.
And then a thunderous roar.
Natasha rushed out of the dining room, past the hallway, into the front yard. There she shuddered to a graceful stop, catching herself from falling into the flowerbed. Bruce stood half-crazed in the yard, hands in his head. Natasha looked around for the trigger and found nothing.
"Bruce?"
He didn't reply.
He's transforming again, she realised at once. Bloody hell, what's happening? Why is he changing?
"Bruce!" she called out once more, as if it could stop the fear, as if it could stem the process, as if it could bring Bruce back.
Now entirely green, her beloved husband – no, he was the Hulk now – looked back with unseeing eyes. In the same instant, he turned and jumped over the fence – he was running now, covering the distance to the nearby hills – he was much too quick, she could not catch up – brambles were in her hair and the sun made her dizzy…
She lay down on the ground in a slump and closed her eyes, trying to catch her breath.
"Natasha?"
"Bruce?" she said, forcing her eyes open.
A high ceiling, a soft sofa, a familiar face (not Bruce). Where am I? What happened? she wondered.
"Bad dreams again? Here, sit up first."
Captain America helped her up.
"I'm sorry," Natasha said. "Did I wake you?"
"I couldn't sleep in any case. Did you dream of Bruce?"
She nodded. "It was so real – we had a family – and then he ran away for no reason at all – I don't understand why –"
"Shhh," Captain America said. "I understand. Bruce will come back, Natasha. You must trust him."
"I thought we had something going on – I don't know how to –"
"Sometimes you feel like you're drowning," Captain America said. "Am I right?"
Natasha nodded, too numbed to speak.
"He'll return, don't you worry. He just needs some time to figure things out. I think he was badly worried about his transformation process."
"I know he was," Natasha said. "But I miss him all the same. Things are different now that he isn't around."
Natasha stood up and walked to the door. "Thank you for your concern, Captain."
She turned and left, heels clicking in the silent corridor. Come back soon, Bruce. I feel like a stranger here. Even the stars at night look different when you're not here to watch them with me. So, come home.
