Through Tinted Panes

Chapter 3: Sunshine and Green Beans

Rhodey, loyal member of the United States Airforce and one of Tony's closest friends, often wondered why he put up with the man.

"You want me to do what?"

"I want you to get me access to Bruce Banner," Tony replied with a healthy dose of flippancy, "A General would be best, but a Colonel's word would probably work, too."

"I heard what you said," Rhodey frowned, "I was just expressing incredulity—Are you crazy? What are you going to do with him? Are you going to test the durability of your equipment?" Despite his reticent words and rapidly increasing pitch, Rhodey was already on the computer, trying to figure out who and what he'd need to make this happen. It was rare that Tony requested anything related to the military, at least now that he'd quit weapons. As a friend he was going to trust that Tony knew what he was doing for once; maybe.

"It's The Avengers," Tony said very seriously. "Loki's out of control and I need Banner's help. I'm part of something bigger now and I can't let my team down."

Rhodey was impressed. Tony was really selling this maturity stuff. But still: "I'll call you on that Bullshit, but I'll see what I can to this time. But if anyone finds a neutron bomb in a garage, I don't know you."

"He can do that?" The excitement in Tony's voice shone through the phone, bothered not at all that his ploy failed.

"He could. Past-tense. Probably with your pieces of scrap." The special address book in Rhodey's computer completed his search. The results were promising. "I'm not sure anyone with half a brain would give a guy like that to Tony Stark, but I'll have your answer before the end of the week."

"Great," The relief was muted but perceptible, "Thanks. But don't ask anyone who will sue me."

Rhodey went to say goodbye, but Tony had already hung up. Typical, but still irksome. Here goes nothing.


It didn't take as long as Rhodey had anticipated to get in contact with a highly ranking superior, one with known sympathies toward mutants, mutates, and other freaks of nature. Most suspected his New York origins to be the cause; others blamed a long-standing admiration to a certain defrosted super soldier. Either or any way, he was displeased by the reticence of his organization to assist with extraterrestrial or supernatural threats.

It was an encouraging rumor, but the General was fair and Tony didn't have the best track record.

Rhodey met with him after he finished surveying some new recruits in his program. Both were completely professional, though some weariness seeped through purely in their demeanor. It had been a long week for both of them. "Lieutenant Colonel Rhodes, I received your message," The Air Force General greeted, getting straight to the point, "It sounded urgent, but you neglected to tell me why."

"Yes Sir, General Hoffman," Rhodey responded confidently, "The request I received from Tony Stark sounded urgent as well. I don't have the authority to fulfill or deny his request, but I chose to be discreet in case of an uproar." It went without saying that Tony Stark was a controversial figure. Hoffman motioned patiently for him to continue. "Stark requested access to Dr. Bruce Banner. He claimed that it was Loki and Avengers related but did not say how."

There was an uncomfortable pause and the other man's eyebrows shot up almost comically. But then the General laughed, deeply and loudly. Rhodey's hopes shrunk with each breath the officer took. When he calmed down he waved his hand in an almost careless manner. "Alright, permission granted. He can even bring a couple of helpers with him if that's what he wants."

"Sir?" It was impossible to hide Rhodey's disbelief.

"I'll send the details directly to you later so you can pass them on. Tell him the good news."

"Yes Sir. Thank you Sir."

"Have a good day, Lieutenant Colonel Rhodes," General Hoffman said and walked off to where ever else the very busy man had to be. Rhodey could have sworn he heard him muttering and chucking as he left the room. It was something about eye patches, loopholes, and favors. It didn't make a whole lot of sense, but what amused the General really wasn't his business. It would be better for his stress level to inform Tony and extricate himself from this mess.


"You're in. Visiting hours are from 6 to 9 PM and you're allowed to bring two people along with you as long as they don't have a major criminal history and are a United States citizen."

"Yes!" Tony cheered and pulled the phone away from his mouth, covering the speaking end. "I told you so," he said to Pepper and returned to Rhodey. "Is that it? Any fine print or invisible ink?"

"I don't think so—"

"Great!"

Tony hung up. Rhodey stared at the phone blankly, then got back to work.


They took a car back to the hospital for visiting hours. 'They' included Tony, Pepper, and one person that might have broken the rules a little: Natasha Romanoff. Tony was almost certain that she'd spied, killed, hacked, lied, and sabotaged more than what would gain her a 'major criminal history', but nobody was asking and she wasn't telling. Actually, she wasn't telling anyone anything at all, despite various attempts to strike up a conversation. She listened to the information she needed, and responded dryly to comments of her choosing. Then no more small talk for Miss Romanoff.

Tony grumpily stared out the window. He detested being ignored.

The car stopped and the party of three stepped up to the hospital's entrance. Tony glanced over at Natasha. She seemed calm and cool and whatever, but he doubted that it was an accurate reading. For a normal person—relatively speaking, that is—he was a pretty good people preceptor and he trusted his gut instincts for the most part.

But Black Widow was in another league. Minus the whole manipulation and secrecy bit, she always did a good job. That was why she was here. Well, it was why Tony had asked her to be here. Apparently the infamous Widow had tired of putting agents through near impossible tasks and had enough free time to help him out. Why she had agreed remained a mystery to the genius.

However, genius being a title that Tony very much enjoyed, he was not going to voice his questions nor question his astounding luck. His time would be much better spent slapping his shiny new legal documents down on Mrs. Sunny's desk. He did just that once he stepped into the lobby and clacked across the unwelcoming tile floor. Tony smiled in a smug sort of fashion. Even if the visit was a complete and utter failure, the trip was worth it for the look on the authoritative woman's face.

"Here they are, fresh out of the mail, straight from the office of an understanding General," Tony said as Sunny recovered.

She shook her head, still disbelieving as she carefully, meticulously, and strictly checked the forms. They were all in order, all real, and all unbelievable. Sunny leaned back and eyed the three of them sternly, but lingered especially on the Stark. Nothing but trouble, all of them. "Be quick about whatever y'all're going to do. Follow the patient visiting rules, keep an employee with you at all times, don'tcha dare get too close to him, and check up if y'all want to do anything even slightly questionable." She paused, glaring. "And don't provoke Dr. Banner. This is a hospital not a zoo."

Pepper placed a hand on Tony's arm, gently reminding him to be professional. The woman certainly had the right to caution and Pepper couldn't fault her for suspicion after the events of their last appearance. "We appreciate this, thank you. When may we see him?"

Sunny waved her hand in a 'whatever'-like way. "If yer so determined to see him, go ahead."

Pepper gave quick thanks and all but dragged Tony in the direction indicated with Agent Romanoff trailing unobtrusively behind them. Pepper spared a glance at the desk right before they were buzzed in and greeted by unusually frazzled guards. Her people skills told her that something was wrong, but she couldn't quite put her finger on it. It was just—Sunny looked very weary indeed.

The door shut behind them, leaving the group to awkwardly stroll along with the trained security officers, though Tony's somewhat one-sided babbling permeated the silence. To their credit, they attempted to meet the small talk with professional responses but Tony being Tony just had to make the questions less PC and more invasive with every encouragement. Even more to their credit, they stopped once they realized this as well. The group made its way through several sets of doors, all painted a vivid green. Natasha quickly surmised that this was for any poor soul who had to transfer Doctor Banner in a hurry with Pepper and Tony quickly coming to the same conclusion. The obnoxious billionaire found himself picturing everyone in a slightly more colorful version of 'Silence of the Lambs', minus the cannibalism of course. Because the files he'd hacked hadn't said anything about that.

Tony's comparison was not too far off, actually. After so many halls and doors and rooms, it was doubtful that anyone could find their way out without the beacon of green that only appeared on the entry side. It seemed like painstaking care had been put into making it a challenge for someone to get out of there without a guide. There was only one cell in the room, clearly customized for a particular patient's needs.

For one, the entire room was a shocking green, the same color as the doors marking the way. A thick sheet of glass divided the visiting from the patient side with a few holes at the top, presumably for breathing. It was probably one-way, Tony deduced from the fact that the patient hadn't even acknowledged their presence. On the other side of the glass was a plethora of squishy things: walls, floors, pillows, and what looked like oversized chew toys all strewn about the room. Someone had thrown a tantrum, it seemed.

Dr. Banner didn't look like much. He sat with his legs loosely crossed, hunched over himself with his hands touching the ground; Gorilla-like, and very still. Of all the Neanderthals that Natasha had dealt with, never had one been graced with such beastly body language. Former scientist or not, Natasha couldn't fathom Stark's interest.

The guards tapped on the glass lightly, and the man's eyes locked onto the glass, slightly unfocused. "Mr. Banner, you have some visitors today," one of them said uncertainly, speaking slowly and cautiously. When they clicked the light on, the one-way illusion dropped. Banner's eyes slid absently across the new faces, not quite focusing on any of them in particular and not quite reacting to their presence.

Tony sat down, cross-legged, close enough to press his face to the transparent surface if the childlike impulse hit him. A low rumble from the other side—a growl—reached Tony's ears. He gaped for a moment. He'd been reacted to in many ways, but usually it took some provocation to elicit a growl. "I, ah," Tony hesitated, perhaps uncharacteristically.

"Good morning, Mister Banner," Natasha slid into place and conversation smoothly, sitting down in a similarly crisscrossed position just a few inches further back than Tony. "My name is Natalie Rushman. This is—"

"Tony Stark." He cut a glance at 'Natalie'.

"And Miss Pepper Potts," The absolutely flawless con woman continued seamlessly, anticipating her 'employer's interruption. After a clack of heels and a greeting, Pepper was on the cool tile floor with the rest of them sitting precariously in her immaculate pencil skirt. "We were informed of your expertise in the area of gamma radiation, and are in desperate need of someone with your knowledge."

There was little to no indication that Bruce registered the words at all. He shifted one arm to rest on a knee, but nothing else.

For a moment, silence reigned. Tony was more than happy to fill the void with conversation, not all of it relevant, but most enough to get a reaction out of most people. About half of the chatter engaged the patient—at least, he was looking at the wall in their general direction—and the other half cause his eyes to glaze over. Occasionally the other two would make interjections, but neither could match the sheer multitude of Tony's words.

Banner unfolded his legs and stood. Tony quieted hopefully, uncertainly as their target lumbered toward them. A fist lashed out and hit the barrier between them. The visitors recoiled. The fist just kept pounding. "Go away," Banner demanded with every blow. "Go away. Go away."

Pepper glanced up and caught the eye of one of the guards. He shook his head. Pepper placed a hand on Tony's arm and pulled away. They would not be getting anywhere with him this time.

Tony got up without saying goodbye and the trio was led back through the same green-marked pathway to the entrance of the sterile hospital. As soon as the door opened into the lobby Natasha brushed past everyone in her way, taking silent steps all the way up to the front desk. "Mr. Stark will be back tomorrow evening. Please be sure that Dr. Banner is not in a drug-induced stupor."

Tony waited until they were outside to ask, "How did you know?"

Natasha spared him a short glance, then looked away. "I'm a good judge of character, remember?"


"Mornin' sunshine and greenbeans, I'm back."

Tony sauntered into the room and dropped into a more comfortable seated position. Banner grunted noncommittally, but the noise transformed into a growl as his eyes caught Tony's. The billionaire held up his hands peacefully, but the patient just narrowed his eyes and huffed. "Go away."

Tony raised his eyebrow and quirked a smile. At least the Doctor wasn't sedated this time. "Nah, I don't think so," he said carefully, gently, "I pulled a lot of strings to get here and you need to help me save the world. So what do you say?"

"No. Go away."

Tony gave and exaggerated sigh and shrug. "Have it your way. Just know I'm in this for the long haul unless you want to give me a reason why."

Banner mumbled something in a simple sentence, likely with horrendous grammar.

"What's that?" Tony asked.

The man grunted. "Don't want to help. Everybody mean. Want to be alone."

Tony settled in again, prepared for a possibly long discussion. "You know—" He paused, gathering his thoughts for once before speaking. "That's not really a good reason. If nobody helped out because humans are assholes, there wouldn't be anyone left. Especially me." Tony gestured to himself meaningfully. "King asshole, here."

Tony ignored the surly glare leveled at his head that steadily worsened with every passing syllable. "This guy, Loki, he's—"

Bruce stood suddenly, aggressively. "Don't care. Go away."

A flat look crossed the billionaire's face as he was rudely interrupted by an answer that he absolutely did not want to hear. He took a pen out of his pocket and began to fiddle, writing in the air with the capped utensil, pointing it at the doctor when he was ready to speak. Finally, he sighed before beginning. "Look. There are assholes. Right? Yeah, we've already established that. But not everyone's like that. Some people are so good that they're willing to put up with the assholes for years... Do you know anyone like that? Did you know anyone? I know I do; she doesn't deserve to die or be a slave to a psychopath with a possibly justified god-complex."

Bruce paced from one wall to the other, shaking his head and stomping around like Tony's mere presence reminded him that he was trapped in a cage. The memory of a beautiful brunette flashed through his mind, again and again. "Stop; go away. Quiet, quiet, quiet."

"And I dunno what's going to happen next, but a lot of people are going to die without the right gamma expert." Tony stood and glanced over, jumping back when the body slammed viciously into the other side of the glass. Bam, bam, bam. The beats were emphasized by unintelligible shouts. Tony retreated strategically; he'd been planning on leaving soon anyway. He left with one last message. "I'll be back again tomorrow. Think about it!"


"What… do… you need?" Banner grunted out, voice gravelly and obviously strained from the effort of forming a 'real' sentence. Tony's eyebrows rose in surprise. Now they were getting somewhere.

Tony sat down again, same as usual (wondering for a moment if something could be considered usual after only a few visits), and gave a cheeky grin. "Same thing as last time. Loki hasn't done anything since yesterday morning—I think magic is cheating, right?—but he's still at large and such." Tony waved his hand vaguely to demonstrate all of the problems that the one idea posed.

"What… can…" The deceptively unassuming patient paused and tilted his head to the side as if thinking very deeply… or listening for something. "I do… … about it?"

Huh. Tony forced his hands to still from where they were rummaging quickly through files, looking for the right few. "Well…" He hesitated, not having expected such a civil or unaware response. "Didn't you work on a military project involving gamma radiation and energy a few years ago?"

"…No…"

"Aha! Are you sure? This paper here says that Dr. Bruce Banner headed Project Trinity: 01 under the supervision of General Thaddeus Ross—" A growl came from across the glass and Tony paused. "Something wrong?"

Banner took a moment to get himself under control, shaking with the visible effort of keeping his temper under control, but he managed to do it because he couldn't very well pinpoint what had made him so angry in the first place. "…No."

"Then… I do have the right Bruce Banner, right?" It was inconceivable that JARVIS had made a mistake, but still.

"…Maybe…" Banner grunted.

Tony sighed, rubbing at his forehead in order to ward off the inevitable headache that would result from nonsensical twenty questions. Yes or no questions obviously were not getting anywhere, but the free responses were just as difficult to get a handle on. "So… You're saying that you don't remember working on the project?"

"Don't remember."

"How?"

"Not Bruce," came the simple response.

Tony jerked out of his thoughts—whatever they had been, they were no longer important. "What did you say?" Bruce—No—the 'Not Bruce' opened his mouth to answer, but Tony just continued speaking or, rather, questioning. "How are you not Bruce? Is the information wrong—wait, I already asked that. But hang on—I've seen pictures. And video. Twins? No. That would be in the file. You wouldn't both be Bruce—"

"Told you! Not Bruce!" He shouted, squeezing his hands over his ears and hunching over.

Tony's brow furrowed. He should probably back off, but he was just so curious—"Yes, but wh—?"

Banner's body slammed into the glass with ferocious fury and force. The glass shuddered precariously, groaning when the body backed off only to slam in again with just as much power. The screaming, unlike earlier instances, was unintelligible. Maybe fragments of words were distinguishable, maybe, but for the most part, the man (who most definitely was not Bruce, but was) just shouted out whatever came to him.

Tony realized that it was time to go.

He went, but reluctantly. While his curiosity and impatience threatened to eat him up until the next day or the one after, he wasn't eager to test the strength of the glass. Math, engineering, or whatever told Tony that he wasn't in any danger. The reality of the situation told him otherwise— that another strategic retreat was in order.


Two days later—because apparently Banner had been too heavily sedated for the time—Tony returned.

He strode into the room and was immediately greeted with a gorilla stance and hateful glare. He sighed and thought: I should have expected it. Tony gave a bit of a sheepish smile and shrugged before sitting down. Banner made a move to charge at the glass, but Tony held up his hands in a motion that pleaded him to stop. "Whoa, hang on there. Just dropping in to say sorry—" To be honest, the word felt foreign and slightly distasteful on his tongue "—I didn't mean to upset you the other day and still have no idea why exactly you got upset but you know what let's start over." Tony took a deep breath. Never let it be said that rambling didn't take effort. "Hi. I'm Tony. You are?"

The patient looked thoughtful, suspicious, and more than a little confused. At least it didn't look like the glass would be getting another beating. "I… am me."

"I can see that," Tony responded flatly. "Can I call you Banner? Or do you have something else in mind."

"Banner… Ok…"

Tony nodded slowly. "Good. I can work with that."

The new 'strategy' of approaching Banner as if he'd never read his file was getting more results than the previous interrogation techniques had. Tony didn't want to manipulate him—he realized that would do nothing that would benefit anyone. Besides, it'd just make Tony feel bad about himself.

In the days following, Tony made much progress… But none of it of any particular use to saving humanity from alien tyranny. Sure, it was just great to know that Banner liked green (but not lime), loved smashing things without repercussions (with obvious results), and would be happy to eat beans for every meal (Tony thought that it could be arranged). But he was still no closer to breaking through to the science-y part of the man's mind.

And—Tony frowned imperceptibly as Banner enthused inarticulately over the comparative merits of lima beans—if he was being completely honest, he'd admit that he doubted the presence of that part existed anymore.

And if that was the case, then he'd have to cut back on the visits and look to the future.

Tony felt a glare digging into his forehead and looked up into furrowed brown eyes. "Oh yeah, right—spaced out there for a second. What was that?"

The conversation continued aimlessly for minutes and minutes more, but the doubt wouldn't stop weighing on Tony's mind. With every fragmented, jarring, childlike phrase that passed through Banner's lips, Tony's heart sank. Banner wasn't bad company, too innocent and uncomplicated to deceive, but—well—"Hey…" Tony interrupted gently, "I might not get to visit as often anymore. I—"

Bruce frowned and hunched up. "Why?"

"Well—"

"Tony's leaving."

"I'll come back, just not as often—"

"Everybody leaves." Banner gestured to himself. "Everybody hates…"

Tony frowned and sighed. This was why Pepper did most of the diplomacy. "Banner, this really doesn't have anything to do with what I think about you. It's just that things are getting really tense outside and I'm probably going to be pulling some heavy coffee-hours."

Banner began to speak but was drowned out by the horrible bringing that Tony had come to associate with nothing but headaches and weeks of lingering bruising. For his part, Banner jumped up and away before zeroing in on the little device that Tony had pulled out of his pocket. A growl started up from deep in his throat and his eyes began to get that wild look about them…

"Woah, woah," Tony called, silencing the Avengers device and putting a hopefully calming smile onto his face. "It's Ok. Look here. It's just like a cell phone."

"Hate cell phones."

"Yeah, yeah, well—" A message came through and Tony's face fell. "Oh. Ouch."

"Ouch?"

Tony was intently focused on the little screen, answering absently as he typed out a response to the bad news. "Yeah… Not literally. Just…" He trailed off and finished typing. Normally multitasking would be no problem, but he had to figure out how to get to Paris before the tower was permanently altered. He placed the communicator back in his pocket and stood. "I need to go. Remember Loki?" Banner nodded. "Well, I need to go deal with him. Right now." At the patient's subtly disappointed face Tony hurriedly added, "I'll come back as soon I've dealt with the problems. Ok?"

Banner had no choice but to agree, because what could he really do from behind a thick sheet of glass? Still, as soon as the door shut behind his… friend's retreating back, the thin thread of concentration holding back his temper snapped. His tantrum lasted quite a while, though it was average by his standards. By the end of it, the security assumed that Banner had tired himself out. He just sat there in a corner, twiddling his thumbs thoughtfully staring at a wall.


The bright green door swung open a few hours later and the lights turned on, allowing Banner to see the outside world. What he saw made him see red.

To be completely fair, almost anyone could be expected to flip out after seeing someone (the only one) they considered a friend in the state that Banner now saw Tony. Half of the billionaire's face was mottled with purple; the rest was blue or some other shade of yellow. His nose looked fine, at least unbroken, but for the angry red that threatened to drip blood at any moment onto the pristine floor, hindered only by a reddish-brown stained handkerchief. The rest of his body was covered by a suit, though an inconspicuous crutch betrayed the extent of his injuries.

"Hey," Tony greeted once Banner had calmed down a bit, raising the hand that wasn't gripping the crutch in greeting. "It actually looks worse than it is, believe it or not. Just bruising. But I'm not going to sit down if you don't mind." There was little response from Banner, still in the process of calming down.

An awkward silence stretched on. "Banner?" Tony asked hesitantly.

The man seemed to exhale, sitting in a way that made him seem smaller, less threatening, and less likely to snap. "What happened?" He asked quietly.

Was that it? Tony scowled a little at the memory, then stopped—the bruises made expressions rather painful. "Loki decided it would be a good idea to set a dragon on Paris—made its nest on the top of the tower. But dragons are so cliché, right? Yeah, that's what I thought too. But there's actually a reason that they're the bosses of Middle Earth." He gestured absently to his face. "Got me with its tail right here. Thor took care of it pretty quickly after that, but dragons are reptiles and reptiles lay eggs that hatch at the most inopportune of times. Did you know that baby dragons are considered endangered?"

The patient shook his head and sat against the glass. It was making his nose ache just to look at Tony's. "Did he have the cube?"

Tony started, jarring his side and causing him to gasp. "Yeah, he always has it with him. But wh—"

"The Tesseract is a door. When… Loki teleports have someone search for a gamma signature that occurs twice. Once you find that, you find the Tesseract and Loki," Banner explained quickly and succinctly, wringing his hands together and tapping his thumbs at random intervals.

Tony's jaw was ready to hit the floor. It was so simple when it was put that way. He had to contact everyone. Now. Although it was unlikely that Loki would be going anywhere exciting so soon, there was no time to be wasted in setting up the system. "Banner—just—wow—Thanks. This is going to do so much good. I have to go tell everyone right now and—" Tony rambled excited phrases and enthusiastic praise. A smile slid its way onto Banner's turned away face.

Tony waved goodbye, but was too excited, busy, and otherwise occupied to glance back as the scientist calmly looked over his shoulder, eyes glowing a radioactive green.


After setting up a research station, instructing all of his employees, and taking quite the beating in a span of only a few hours, Tony was nothing less than exhausted. He fell into bed, still fully dressed, and wished for nothing more than a good night's rest. JARVIS was intelligent enough to remain quiet and simply lower the lights to help his creator get to sleep as quickly as possible.

Tony was grateful, or at least he was grateful until a message pinged through, overriding JARVIS's blocks. "For the love of— What?" Tony whined at the interruption.

"Mr. Stark, Mr. Stark!" One of his lackeys cheered through the video feed. "I can't believe it—we have it. We actually got it!"

Tony stared at the face blearily, uncomprehendingly. He sighed and sat up gingerly. "What is 'it' that we've found?"

The young scientiest's jaw dropped in amazement. "You don't know? It's the Tesseract. We've got a lock—it's in Syria and Toronto. Oh… No. Now it's just in Toronto."

Tony stood up in a mixture of surprise and shock, punching the air, shouting and wincing. He caught his breath for a moment, doubling over and clutching his side. Then, he tried again with his less injured side, completing the cheer successfully. He turned back to the feed. "Good. Be sure to keep a lock on it until we can get a permanent trace. And—"

"Mr. Stark, sir?" The man interrupted as something pinged through on his computer. "I think you'd better… well… umm…"

"Spit it out."

"You'd better do your superhero… Thing."

Tony groaned dramatically and rolled his eyes, closing the feed just as the Avengers card bringed at him. It looked to him like the day wasn't over yet. But if everything went well in the next few days, weeks… Then the battle would be.


A/N:

1. As requested, it shall be continued! I've said this before, but Y'all's feedback seriously makes my day (week).

2. There's nothing really to say this chapter except that the second half was atrociously difficult to write and that this is, again, unBeta'd. Regardless, I hope that it is alright and that the next chapter will be up before long.