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Author Note – Thank you all for reading, hope you're all enjoying. Special thanks to my beta, Black Victor Cachat, who writes wonderful stories too.

Rooftop Conversations - Chapter Seven

"May it be a light to you in dark places, when all other lights go out." ― J.R.R. Tolkien, The Fellowship of the Ring

In the following days, Bruce practically barricades himself in his room, avoiding all common areas including his own lab. He doesn't want constant reminders of his latest incident. Tony took charge of the repairs for the Tank and, for once, respected Bruce's wish for privacy. Bruce suspects there's more to it than that but for now, he's more than willing to ignore Tony's schemes.

He didn't step foot out of his room till he was certain he wouldn't encounter anyone else in the corridors or living spaces. Specifically, Natasha. But this isn't really achievable till late at night, and even then, the former assassin had sporadic sleep patterns, she wanders about the Tower at all times.

Even though he's avoiding her, Bruce misses Natasha.

The woman who insisted he take her to dinner to apologise for almost killing her. The woman who kissed him in the rain. The woman who wants to have dinner with him again. The woman who barely bats an eye when he talks about hearing screams in his head, who understand what it's like to be afraid to sleep. The woman who put herself between his alter ego and the world and survived.

Several times he finds himself on the verge of crossing the hall to knock on her door to apologise for the things he said the other morning. He would've felt better if she railed back at him for attacking the job which saved her.

She hadn't.

Instead she met his anger with patience, denying him any kind of validation. She spoke succinctly with facts and understanding, as if she was expecting him to lash out. That made him feel worse. Yet instead of seeking her out to beg forgiveness, he wallowed in his guilt and denial; convincing himself he's just embarrassed about transforming, unwilling to discuss it or considering her offer of watching his counter-parts' actions during the incident in the Tank.

That's not a total delusion on his part.

He's in a quandary over Natasha's recent experience with the Hulk, completely the opposite of their first interaction. He's unable to reconcile the calmness Natasha insists she witnessed and viewing the footage will only baffle him more.

He reluctantly acknowledges his post-incident routine has been smoother, re-establishing his equilibrium faster than he normally does. The wave of confusion, which always occurs when he first wakes is something he likens to a hangover as he usually drifts in a haze as he figures out what happened while he transformed, cleared quicker than normal. He hasn't felt the need to fall back on his usual meditation techniques to realign his control. It's quieter in his head; the low growl, constantly reminding Bruce of the Hulk's presence, is quiet.

Bruce doesn't miss it, but its absence is noticeable after having it in his mind for so many years. He reflects on it for hours without coming up with a reason for it, not one that satisfies him.

Without the state of the art equipment in his lab, Bruce resorts to research and computer simulations to fill his days. He's engrossed in Jane Foster's latest paper on wormholes and their links with other worlds, evidencing Asgard as an example, when his phone rings just before nine on the third night. He sets aside his laptop, pausing the soft music he was playing while reading - he's been playing a lot of Beethoven lately - and picks up the chiming device, sliding his thumb across the bottom of the screen to answer.

"Hi Tony," Bruce greets tiredly. He rubs his eyes with his free hand and he realises how exhausted he feels after doing next to nothing for a few days.

"It's time to stop hiding in your room Banner and hustle your backside to the lab," his friend replies without preamble. "I have something which will blow your mind," Tony enunciates the words dramatically.

"Does it have to be right away?" Bruce asks casting a longing look at the bright laptop screen. "I'm a bit busy."

"Doing what?" Comes the instant reply, less curious than indignant.

"Reading Jane Fosters' latest—"

"Thor can recite it to you verbatim later, and you can fangirl over his girlfriends' brilliance together," Tony cuts him off. Bruce chuckles under his breath. "Right now, I need you to fangirl over my brilliance, so drag your butt to the lab."

And there it is. Bruce feels his smile widen at the exuberance in his friends' voice. Tony isn't known for shying away from praise, not that it is ever unwarranted, but his standard for what he classes as scientific brilliance is the same as Bruce's. So, whatever it is, if he says it's good, it's good. Bruce's spirits lift as his interest is piqued by Tony's cryptic invitation-slash-demand of his presence.

There's always the chance it could be something utterly unexpected to catch Bruce off guard and draw him out of his self-imposed seclusion. Like the morning he walked into the lab only to find Tony in the space now used for the tank with coke bottles and Mentos set out in an elaborate cause and effect experiment. Tony was waiting for him to arrive before dropping the first Mentos into the first coke bottle.

Uttering a quick assent, Bruce is walking down the corridor toward the lab. He spies Tony waiting with his back to living room, talking in hushed tones into his phone. Bruce moves through the grand living room regardless, intent on giving Tony the attention he is demanding when he casually glances at the rooftop entrance to see a hooded figure huddled on a chair. Their feet rest of the seat edge, their knees drawn into their chest. Bruce falters a little as he notices the red wisps of hair peeking out from underneath the dark blue hood, waving in the night wind. He watches Natasha for a beat longer, wishing she would discover his observation so he can start a conversation with her.

She doesn't.

And his stomach lurches. He knows she can sense when she's being watched, it's imperative for her, and is fully aware of Bruce's presence and his watchful gaze. He's hit with a bout of indecisiveness. He wants to join her despite her posture and body language daring him to try. She looks so small against the backdrop of the night sky, her dark blue hoodie and black jeans almost blend into it. It would be easy to pass her by, failing to notice her, if he weren't so aware of her.

It's the reason he verbally attacked her. He hated the danger she put herself in. Bruce doesn't discount her abilities but she's fragile compared to him, smash-able even, and willingly made herself a target for the Hulk's fury if the situation turned sour. She is the opposite of the Hulk. Where he's robust, muscular and messy; she's petite, lithe and subtle. She had no weapons, none that he could see anyway – he knows she's fond of concealing them, nor was she wearing her suit for protection. Barefoot in just a cotton tee shirt and shorts, showing a lot of silky smooth skin which he steadfastly ignored after a hasty glance yet has haunted his thoughts while they left each other alone.

A low cough cuts through his perusal; a deeper, manly cough he can't pretend emanates from Natasha. He sighs quietly and lifts his head to face Tony who is watching him watch Natasha. Bruce can't decipher the slight shrug Tony gives him, nor does he give Tony enough time to draw attention to their surveillance and quickly closes the distance between himself and the staircase. He resists the urge to spare Natasha a fleeting glance while under Tony's scrutiny, wishing he were climbing through the access door to join her and salvage something from their friendship. If she were bothered by their presence she would have retreated to her room. He climbs the stairs swiftly, ignoring any hesitance he feels as he draws closer to the tank.

By the time he reaches the top, Tony is practically bouncing on his heels as he waits for Bruce to join him, eager to overlook the odd moment.

"You are going to love this buddy," he enthuses, giving Bruce no chance to ask about the repairs.

Tony fidgets with his clear hand-held controller again, tapping at the see-through interface. Bruce uses the opportunity to crane his head around the door to peer curiously into the tank. The gaping hole has been sealed with what he assumes will be a temporary metal patch, crudely welded to the interior wall. Bruce winces at the size of it. He may not have made the hole, but he feels responsible for Thor making it.

He doesn't have long to dwell on the rest of the Tank which looks undisturbed like the day Tony installed it as his friend draws his attention away from it. He's not saying anything yet but he's animated, more hyper than usual, but there's no whiff of alcohol on his breath. Bruce assumes, hopes, this is merely an adrenaline high from whatever he's been working on; Bruce is no stranger to it himself, after spending hours on a project without a break and pushing past his exhaustion point. His only worry is Tony's ability to censor his ideas and himself.

He's had no one to distract him or be a voice of reason to reign him in. Aside from Bruce's seclusion, Pepper's been in Malibu since before the incident with the Hulk. Bruce knows they're in contact daily, and she called to check he was okay, it's not like being in the same building. Bruce has a sneaking suspicion Tony's took advantage of his girlfriend's absence to fall back on his unhealthy work patterns; patterns often shared by Bruce.

"When did you last sleep?" Bruce asks out of interest with no intention to reprimand him; he doesn't care for being a hypocrite.

"I started working about thirty-six hours ago and I woke up a few hours before that," Tony replies without an ounce of shame or fear of being ratted out. Bruce will keep his secret. For now. "I wasn't really sure of all the details, I need your input on some of those, but I think I've got a solution to our, or should I say your, problem."

Bruce's ears perked up. "My problem? What problem?" He stammers, his mind correcting 'what' for 'which'. There are several he can come up with.

"The certain green issue that's been plaguing you," Tony steps back with a flourish of his arms just as a blue hologram appears in the centre of the room. "Ta-da."

Automatically Bruce steps forward to examine the 3-D image of what seems to be an overly bulky Iron Man suit. His face pulls into a frown, his eyes hardening as he slips his glasses on to examine the finer details; a thicker helmet designed to withstand a forceful impact while securing and encasing a regular sized suit; huge arms with one sleeve which drops down to act as a handcuff and a piston puncher on the other; sturdy legs each with an arc reactor embedded in the knee joints to power clamps in the feet which would anchor the suit to the ground if need be.

The hologram provides no measurements, and he can only guess the size given Tony is showing it to him. His lips set into a grim line. Whereas normal sized suits only require one arc reactor and is capable of taking on terrorists and was instrumental in combating the Chitauri, this supersized suit appears to be powered by several arc reactors which will generate an enormous amount of energy coupled with the heavy-duty weaponry this suit is a force to be reckoned with. "What is this?"

"It's my Hulkbuster suit," Tony announces. "I took the liberty of naming her Veronica."

Bruce groans; not just because of Tony's joke, though Bruce has no doubt he really has dubbed the new suit Veronica, but because of his daring fearlessness to create a suit to take down the Hulk. Tony's out done himself. Bruce has to give him credit for the design and the engineering involved alone fascinates him; even if he weren't the one this suit was designed to stop, Bruce would admire it. It's not his speciality yet he knows enough to envy Tony's process and skills. He's watched him pour over the designs, rigorously testing till the flaws are corrected. Tony's considered most aspects of fighting the Hulk; force, power, impact. The size means the suit can absorb physical impact with gel for greater shock resistance, or cushioning, like the large spaces in cars for the engine in case of an impact, decreasing risk to the pilot. The normal suits are durable, toughened shells, and Bruce expects this to be same. The sheer thought process which has gone into this project makes it easy for Bruce to momentarily overlook the recklessness involved in the strategy behind it.

"What do you think? I've got the rest of the designs here," Tony eagerly pushes him when he gives no other response.

The hologram shifts to a blueprint, this time with measurements as well as an itemised list of weapons.

The image shifts again to show a metal panels moving together to form a blunt pyramid, sealing together with an electrical charge, sort of like a mobile container.

"What this?" Bruce asks instead, entranced by the ideas playing out in front of him.

"It's a cage which we can use to hold the Hulk, made from the same material as the Tank, no glass to punch through though. Not that the Tank was holding him, he would've gotten out if Romanoff hadn't drawn his attention. But I thought this could contain him long enough for us to calm him down or distract him," Tony rattles off.

Bruce nods slowly, his mind noting a few details he can see in the plans to work on. He doesn't want to be a dampener on his friend's enthusiasm about the flaw in his plan; containing the Other Guy will only piss him off more than he already is.

"I thought we could use it to administer an air-born sedative to calm him down. Injection is out of the question considering he's bulletproof," Tony makes a face. "How do you feel about that?"

"I can see your logic; what kind of sedative were you thinking of? It'd have to be powerful," Bruce muses.

"Bio-mechanics is your thing, so I'm not sure where to start developing it. You developed that heart-rate suppressant. I'm wondering if that would be a good starting point. SHIELD agents were using it to fake death in the field for easier extraction."

Bruce nods along with Tony's reasoning. He'd been developing it for personal use for when he felt a transformation start but he hasn't had the chance to test it on himself in that situation. He never thought of using it once he was transformed. "What about the team or bystanders when it's administered? They'll be affected by the sedatives."

"Hence the cage," Tony sounds triumphant. "It'll be contained and he'll be in a concentrated atmosphere. It shouldn't make much difference to the Hulk, just enough to make him groggy. We can move him to somewhere familiar and hopefully change back in the mean."

Bruce falls silent again, thinking of the amount of testing they would need to do. On the suit, on the cage, on the Hulk. Putting him through this would backfire.

Badly.

It would fracture the tenuous trust the Hulk put in them the first time they fought together. He may have saved Tony but it's a fragile alliance which could be broken easily if the Hulk sees this as a betrayal of his trust.

Clearly uncomfortable with Bruce's lack of response, Tony starts again, "I know it's not like Romanoff's Jedi mind tricks—"

"What do you mean?" Bruce's head snaps up at the second mention of Natasha.

The billionaires' eyes hardened, narrowing a fraction as he gestures to the tank as if to jog Bruce's memory. "She managed to work the Big Guy like she'd been doing it her entire life."

Instead of commenting, Bruce cocks his head inquisitively.

"She definitely got the Big Guy's attention when she wanted it," Tony elaborates.

"It's not that hard Tony," Bruce points out.

"And she lived to tell the tale," Tony counters without missing a beat.

In his room, Bruce reflected a lot on the mini-tirade he aimed at her. Ultimately, he put it down to his inability to trust anyone interested with the Other Guy, but after a while he was able to see the situation from her point of view. If he escaped, the Hulk would have torn the Tower apart, and Bruce envisioned himself waking to newspaper covers of his alter ego clinging to the side of the building like that iconic King Kong film. Natasha had needed a swift resolution with the least amount of damage; he appreciates her quick thinking, but would rather she didn't lock herself in a room with the Other Guy. The Hulk is too unpredictable and that situation is too dangerous, and potentially suicidal in his opinion. It's not an interrogation where she's the most lethal person in the room; she's locked in with the Hulk, not the other way around.

"Have you talked to her?" Tony asks somewhat guardedly.

"No," Bruce admits ashamed of the answer. Despite his concerted effort to avoid social interaction, their rooms were opposite one another, he hasn't heard anything from her side of the hall. Not that unusual, but right now it's disheartening.

"Not surprising. No one would know anyone else lived here with you two sulking in your rooms. Or on the roof," Tony adds with a light cough.

"I thought the privacy settings prevented you from knowing where we are. How do you know if she is in her room?" Bruce grumbles, ignoring the jibe at their habit of meeting on the roof.

"I was curious so I had JARVIS check for safety reasons," Tony smirks. "According to him, she migrates between her room and the gym, avoiding any route which leads out to the roof or the lab. Unless she's messing with his programming, which I don't doubt she could, but I can't detect any tampering. Honestly, if I had to guess who would bolt after the Widow-Hulk stare-down I'd put my money on you." He claps his hand on Bruce's shoulder as if in congratulations. "You're the flight risk, not our resident assassin."

"Got to hand it to her though, Reds' technique certainly was effective at calming him down," Tony adds breaking, through his thoughts.

Bruce smothers his reaction to Tony's nickname for Natasha and the admiration he hears in his friend's tone. There's a distinction, Bruce realised; Tony uses the nickname, dare he say, affectionate, when teasing. He only refers to Natasha by her surname when he doesn't approve of her actions. "You think she did the right thing," Bruce says. He wants someone else's opinion.

"I can see why you'd be pissed about it but I don't think she had an ulterior motive. If Fury were still here, I'd have a different answer. He kept tabs on all of us for years before making any contact with the team. He could have gone after you several times, what if he tried to test your limits without you realising it?" Tony doesn't give Bruce time to answer. "He knew us inside and out; character profiles, detailed history, surveillance records, how to recruit, and ways of neutralising us if necessary. You, or the Hulk rather, would've stumped him. I mean, all he came up with a glass cage he was going to drop from a great height and hope for the best."

Tony pauses and Bruce frowns. Tony rarely pauses. He usually fills any silence with high-paced rambling of whatever subject he was discussing, to exhibit his vast amount of knowledge to cover any pause. But right now, Bruce can literally see his mind working through the quick subtle changes in his expression, a slight grimace before he sighs then sparing a glance at Bruce as though he was deciding if this is the right moment to share his thoughts; something he never did. Especially with Bruce. Even if people didn't like what Tony thought, he was upfront and dealt with the backlash by defending his reasoning.

"Romanoff was his protégé, and after witnessing what I did the other day, I wonder whether she tried to figure out a way to work with your angrier half to get Fury's approval. Imagine if they triumphed where the military failed with the Hulk."

"You think they planned to train him to react to her," Bruce infers.

"In their best-case scenario - yes, and as we all know, there's a huge margin for error," Tony shrugs. "But SHIELD isn't pulling her strings anymore; I think she's been put through the ringer as much as any of us, probably more. I mean after everything that's come out recently, any one of them could be HYDRA and I think we're lucky they aren't. The idea of a Hulk handler has merit and it looked effortless from where I was standing. You tried all of the alternatives Bruce and they didn't work," he tacks on carefully.

Bruce looks away. It's hard to trust anyone who wants anything to do with his other half. He has to admit even though Fury had his secrets, he seemed upfront with his intentions. Natasha trusted him and Bruce has grown to value her and her opinion. She's been open with him in the past about whether Fury asked her to manipulate him, and what she would do if he ever asked. He appreciates her honesty even if he doesn't like her answer.

"If you're open to that idea, great. Less bruises for all of us, but I wanted to offer you an alternative to Red's chit chat with a fail-safe if that doesn't work," Then his demeanour changes as he points back to the blueprints hovering in front of them. "I'm not saying bigger is better, but size matters," he smirks at Bruce and waits for his eye roll before continuing. "This packs a punch which exceeds the Hulks."

"What calculations are you basing that assumption upon?"

"JARVIS measured the force when he was trying to get out of the tank."

"Just because you can hit as hard as he can, doesn't mean it'll knock him out. What's your intention? Fight and subdue? Wear him out?" Bruce has a lot of questions ready for him, something they do to each other when they start any new project to clear up any details in preliminary planning. Despite this, he doesn't want to bombard Tony yet because he needs to comprehend the concept.

"It's not ideal, but you've tried everything else, so why not this?" He presses without his usual aggression.

"You just want to go toe-to-toe with him," Bruce jokes to take the edge off Tony's sincerity.

Tony huffs out a laugh. "The idea does appeal to my adrenaline junkie side, which I've been trying to explore."

He waits for Bruce to give his input, but he's not forthcoming right now.

"I didn't want to start building anything till I knew you were on board," he continues when Bruce remains silent, seeking his approval and consent. "Say the word and we can work on the design till you're satisfied, and put the prototype through whatever tests you want till it's ready for the field. It'll be a joint project."

Bruce licks his lips. "I appreciate the gesture Tony," he starts, ignoring the fact that his solution involves enabling his obsession with suits. He's not sure he approves of anything which will tempt his friend to spiral out of control once again. "But I don't think either method will be necessary as I, he, won't be fighting. I'm not risking either you or Natasha in that respect. Also think about Pepper, how would she feel? Wearing a suit to take on HYDRA is one thing, making one to fight the Hulk is another."

If Tony's disappointed by Bruce's rebuttal, he doesn't show it. "I'll talk to Pepper," he promises. "But what about incidents you can't control, like the other day?" He poses the question and Bruce refuses to answer him.

The other day was unprecedented, as if the Other Guy wanted to make his presence known, a small reminder despite the happiness Bruce has been experiencing lately.

"This could also work as a solution to your other problem."

Bruce looks up sharply in askance, his brow drawing together as he tries to follow Tony's train of thought. Thankfully Tony takes pity on his overwhelmed brain.

"You're not comfortable with the idea of being in the field, but we might need the power the Hulk provides; flipping tanks and smashing through walls isn't easy for us mere mortals. This," he points at the hologram. "Can do that instead of you and you won't have to go anywhere near a fight if you don't want to."

"A suit this size would still endanger civilians with flying debris; the rest of the team would have to coordinate around it to minimalize the risk. They won't be able to protect the public from you and HYDRA, they'll be exposing themselves to attack." He points out the body. "You can't even control it remotely. Imagine if you're in a simulator and the link fails, the suit would collapse wherever it is and there's no way to stop it. That amount of metal would crush someone."

Bruce exhales quietly, bowing his head as he stares at the diagram. Contemplates the yearning he feels bubbling inside of him. It's a nice gesture, with idealistic thinking behind it. He suspects this is the underlying reason for Veronica. His throat catches and he breathes through it. It's an incredible gift; providing him with an alternative from wading into a war, causing unknown amounts of collateral damage. At least Tony will be in his right mind when piloting the suit. The least Bruce can do is help ensure he's safe doing it.

Bruce moves to the work bench at the side of the room, looking away from the blue holograms and the tiny flare of hope they offer. Tony's 'gift' is like a double-edged blade cutting through any potential solution for him. Bruce is grateful for the work he's putting into it, but at its' core is another suit, a more fragile suit, containing his closest friend.

Tony isn't a fighter.

Bruce isn't either. The Hulk fights for him.

Tony works out, he keeps fit, trains with Happy but it's not the same as a hand to hand combat. He's not used to the strategy involved, not like someone like Steve or Natasha who have the training and predisposition. Any fight against the Hulk will be intense and overblown; not just in scale due to the size of the fighters but Bruce's alter ego knows how to fight, it's one of his core instincts, and he catches experienced opponents off guard.

Tony's a genius but his brain works differently from the Hulks'. He's thinking of this experience like a scientist and the Hulk will be three steps, or in this case punches, ahead. In the suits, he relies on weapons and thrusters to help him along with JARVIS talking through probabilities as a situation evolves. The Hulk's stamina will wear him down eventually. Tony's stubborn and tenacious enough to keep the fight going as long as he can, yet that'll just escalate the situation, prolonging and sustaining unnecessary pain and damage.

Bruce doesn't doubt his tenacity; Tony is capable of incredible things in and out of the suits. He's taken on terrorists, several times over, flown a nuke through a wormhole, and helped coordinate a battle against an alien army. So, while his judgement of Tony's skills seems harsh, as if looking for reasons not to pit him against the Hulk, it's because he doesn't want to hurt his friend or worse, returning to a life of isolation from the new one he's become fond of. He is Bruce's best friend, probably the best one he's ever had. Bruce would like to keep it that way. Their friendship doesn't hinge on the Hulk. Tony's intrigued on a scientific level, but the Other Guy isn't his primary interest.

That's just considering the damage to Tony; Bruce is fully aware of how much ground the Hulk can cover in a fight, the surrounding areas will have to weather the consequences as well. Harlem was torn up when he confronted the Abomination, endangering lives and most likely destroying some of their livelihoods. In an ideal world, anything like this could only happen in an isolated area with lots of space so the collateral damage is kept to a minimum.

That's not to mention Tony's PTSD. This could all be a reaction to the Hulk being on the cusp of destroying his new home months after the Malibu one was destroyed by the Mandarin. Working on the repairs by himself and drawing up plans for a new suit in three days points at a relapse, especially with Pepper unable to come home after the incident. As the thought occurs to Bruce, he immediately regrets wallowing in self-pity, and not checking on his friend sooner.

"Tony," he says but it sounds like a question. It is. His tone is loaded; apologetic, soothing, prompting and reproachful. If Tony has relapsed because of him, he'll be out of New York within an hour. He doesn't say anything else, he doesn't need to.

"I'm okay," Tony assures him, catching on immediately. "I'd just finished repairing the Tank and it was late. I was missing Pepper and needed a distraction," he admits tiredly.

"By designing a new suit?" Bruce asks. "How long did this take you?"

"Not that long," he shrugs dismissively. "And you say new but it isn't that difficult after mark forty-two," Tony comments with raised eyebrows. "It's just tinkering on an existing model, this is mostly scaling up."

"You need better shock resistance in the helmet," Bruce informs him dryly. "All of them because you're clearly out of your mind."

"You're laughing now Banner, but you might have a point," he fires back with a smirk before growing serious. "This isn't a cry for help, this isn't about me Bruce, I promise. I'm trying to help and this is the only way I know how."

"I know," Bruce replies, longingly looking at the hologram. He sighs.

"I'm not trying to influence you, we could test it in an isolated location against Thor. I've got a couple of empty warehouses upstate, we could make a weekend of it with the rest of the team. Fighting the Chitauri was fun and all, but it was a little spontaneous even for me. This would give us a chance to train together before HYDRA decide to come after us." Tony groans, "Ugh, I'm starting to sound like Capsicle, kill me now."

Bruce breathes out a chuckle and shakes his head.

"So, it's a no?" Tony double checks.

"The Avengers are supposed to engender hope against HYDRA, not generate fear and doubt. I'm grateful for the effort Tony, I am," Bruce replies gently.

"I know you are, even if you're unwilling to test it as a solution," Tony assures him without reproach. "Even though I would love to know who the victor would be in the showdown between the Hulk and the Hulkbuster, I'm happily planning my retirement from the Avengers after we stop HYDRA and find the Sceptre."

Bruce chuckles, relief flooding through him at the honesty in Tony's eyes. "I wish you all the happiness."

"Don't know about that," the billionaire scratches the back of his head tiredly. "Pepper deserves more; a happily ever after. I'm not scared of what that means, I'm just not sure if I can maintain the illusion."

"I have every confidence in you," Bruce says to belay his fears despite knowing Tony won't be convinced by platitudes. "She loves you Tony. When are you going to accept that you make her happy?"

"When I stop screwing up," Tony offers. "So, never?" He jokes to cover his nerves with this topic. "I don't think she wants the whole 'picket fence' package, yet definitely a ring at some stage," he rambles on, thinking out loud rather than speaking to Bruce, who knows better than to interrupt him when he's talking through a subject which has taken years for him to come to terms with.

Bruce feels privileged to witness, up close and from a far, the changes Tony had gone through in the last few years, from billionaire playboy to a man who is trying to be a responsible adult. Maybe not all the time, he'd lose something which was quintessentially 'Tony' if he did. Pepper brings out the best in him, makes him want to be better.

"I want her to have a ring," Tony admits lifting his head and directly addressing Bruce this time. He scrunches his nose. "We'll have to debate any offspring."

"Why?" Bruce can't help chuckling. "You'd enjoy the conception."

"I'm very fond of the conception part," he winks. "I'm just not sure what to do once babies arrive, they're kind of delicate and you know I don't like being handed things. Can you imagine the delivery when the nurse tries to hand me the baby?" He visibly shivers.

"For what it's worth, I think you're more than capable to reproduce," Bruce jokes. "It's surprising you haven't already accomplished it with your youthful indiscretions."

"A minor miracle," Tony winks. "But I'm also ready to metaphorically trim this branch of the Stark family tree, do I really want to put my kid growing up with me as a father?" He questions rhetorically and Bruce assumes he's joking but hears the doubt in his voice. "I realise now that I should've made it clear that my debate will be an internal one with myself, not Pepper."

"You would learn from his downfalls Tony," Bruce points out. Neither had the best example growing up. His father killed his mother in a rage. Howard Stark worked endlessly for what he considered the 'greater good', hoping his son would follow in his footsteps only to push him away by putting Tony second to his work. It all fell into place in the last few years but it took his abduction and a lot of mistakes for Tony to turn his life around. "What does Pepper think about it?"

Tony's about to reply when he's interrupted by a voice from the doorway. "Is that another suit?" Pepper asks.

Bruce winces at her unhappy tone and chances a look at the strawberry blonde only to notice Natasha peering curiously at the scene over her shoulder. Neither woman look pleased with what they see, and he wonders how long they've been standing there. It must have only been a few seconds; surely Pepper wouldn't be angry if she heard Tony describing retirement and his insecurities.

In contrast to Bruce's observation, Tony jumps into action by putting himself between Pepper and the hologram, opening his arms as if expecting a hug from his beloved on her return.

"A hypothetical one, Honey," he promises as she side-steps his approach to get a closer look at the hovering image. "A heads up would be nice next time JARVIS, I thought we talked about the greeting protocol after the incident with the builders," he says to the AI.

"Miss Potts is a resident and requested the opportunity to surprise you sir."

Her face says it all. Flush with anger, steely eyes sweep over the design as she draws in a sharp breath before turning her accusation to Tony, "The prototypes for the Iron Legion are about to go into production, and you're designing a new suit. We agreed to talk before anything else happened."

"And we would, but we don't have to because I'm not making the suit," Tony says gently, following her back to the hologram.

She exhales with a shake of her head and takes half a step to avoid any contact. She glowers at the image, and it's the first time Bruce sees cracks in her serene aura. Bruce steps back, hoping to blend into the background, be as invisible as possible, but her attention is clearly on Tony only.

"Then why do you have a blueprint?"

"Um, it was an ill-timed present for Bruce," Tony says, a little glib for the situation and Pepper.

And Bruce.

He never asked for this, but he never did anything to discourage Tony either and he doubts Pepper will welcome his suggestions for shock absorbers in the helmet, whether he was joking or not. But he doesn't want to be the cause of any tension between the couple.

"This isn't about Bruce," Pepper argues before Bruce can say anything. "It's about you and your obsession with the suits. I knew you wouldn't be able to stop," she seethes, breathing heavily. Her chest heaves deeply and Bruce is reminded of when he's transforming.

Though she hasn't exhibited any residual side effects from Extremis for months, no one really knows how it's affected her body at its core. Her cheeks brighten from flushing pink to red and he half expects to see flickers of orange and yellow to appear under her skin and embers to light up her eyes. They don't appear as Tony gently touches her arms and steers her away from the hologram as it flickers away. As Tony guides her to the side of the room to give them some privacy, Bruce notices the temperature drop in the lab – a feature Tony installed while she was healing and prone to intermittent hot flares linked to her temperament and when JARVIS determined Tony was being an ass, which is a regular occurrence.

Tony and Pepper welcomed him with open arms, and he doesn't want to repay them by destroying everything they have. They would defend him and the Hulk to the media, the government and the public, all of whom are waiting for him to slip. Despite the fear and outcry at his presence in New York, Bruce is back in the scientific world he loves thanks to the help Tony offered him. He isn't shunned by it anymore, in fact most of it comes to him and not because he's the Hulk. He'll be forever in their debt for accepting him.

And despite the recent threats from HYDRA and his most recent incident, they've supported him again. Pepper would have returned immediately if she was worried about his presence and Tony would have evicted him if he was concerned for Pepper's safety. Instead, Pepper called via JARVIS to check on him and Tony repaired the damage and designed a solution without mentioning it.

Deciding this is between them, Bruce discreetly tries to tiptoe toward the door and Natasha who is keenly watching him. He has no other option, there's no other exit. His heart beat jumps but he recovers quickly and continues to approach her.

Unfortunately for him, Pepper foils his otherwise stealthy exit. "I don't want to turf you out of your lab Bruce," she apologises without any trace of the fury she directed at Tony moments ago.

"You two need some time," he assures with a wave of his hand as he reaches the doorway where Natasha is waiting.

"Thanks Buddy," Tony replies, his gratitude clear.

Then Bruce leaves Tony to offer his apology while he endeavours to give his own. He and Natasha appraise each other silently as he steps out of the lab onto the small metal landing at the top of the stairs. The door slides shut behind him as Pepper utters words he never expected to hear from her, "I've worn a suit myself, Tony, I know the rush you get from being in one."

"You know it's more than that," Tony argues.

Bruce turns his head out of interest, listening to the muted conversation.

"I do," she replies simply. "It's easy to miss the adrenaline from being in those situations, it's addictive. You remember how I was after fighting Aldrich Killian; it was hard to accept and adapt, even though my exposure was relatively short." She pauses. "I understand why you readily put them on: it's thrilling."

At Pepper's words, Natasha's hand touches Bruce's wrist and their eyes meet for a beat. The bright green overshadowed by the way the lights hang. Her hood has been lowered since he saw her on the roof, fifteen…twenty minutes ago; he's lost track of time he spent talking to Tony. Her vibrant hair peeks out from under the hood and she still looks as lonely as she had. He wills he to say something to break the spell but he knows they're too close to Tony and Pepper for her liking. Her fingers feel cold on his skin and he supresses as shiver. His heart lifts when her mouth twitches in a that coy way of hers as she blinks before her fingers shift to tug on his sleeve and lead him away from the couple. Her hand drops away as soon as his feet move to follow her down the stairs. She turns her head once she reaches the bottom to talk to him over her shoulder.

"Do you want to get some air?" Natasha nods in the direction of the rooftop door, her legs already moving toward it without his waiting for his answer.

He thinks about offering a swift apology and retiring to his room, but the air in there is stuffy and smothering. They've spent so many evenings out there together, and Bruce misses the comradeship they forged. Simply, he misses her presence. But he's not ready to ponder its significance yet, not ready to label it for fear of misinterpretation and appearing vulnerable.

She passes through the door easily while he hovers just inside, watching her assess whether she stands or sits in the chairs. Standing offers a better view of the city, the night sky lit up by lights from uncovered windows, a pleasing distraction if either of them chicken out of resolving their last conversation.

"We could go halves," Natasha says as she takes her place at the railing.

It takes him a beat to figure out what she's talking about. "Dinner?" Bruce clarifies and she nods. He chuckles in spite of himself and steps over the threshold to take his place beside her. "Are you hungry? We could order in," he suggests lightly.

"Maybe later," Natasha answers, folding her arms over her midsection and looks away from him.

"I shouldn't have said what I did the other day. You're still adjusting and I attacked everything you've relied on since you reformed. You lost a close friend," he continues thinking of what Tony said about her relationship with Fury.

"Bruce," she says with a flash of her eyes to stop him. She blinks and quickly looks away to cover her grief and he's confused by the uncharacteristic response. He hasn't seen her react to the mention of Fury since she moved into the Tower.

"I'm sorry," he whispers.

"I know," she exhales. "You say you hate violence, except when it comes to subduing the Big Guy."

"This is about the Hulkbuster?"

She arches an eyebrow at the code name but says nothing.

"He's not going to make the suit Natasha," Bruce tells her.

"Of course he will, he's Stark," she retorts sarcastically with an eye roll at Bruce and his naiveté. "How does the Hulk react to being attacked? Tony is going to be in the middle of that suit, he won't use a remote-control Bruce. How will you feel if the Hulk rips it and Tony apart?"

"You don't think I realise that? It's why I said no," Bruce answers defensively, the images her words conjure make him wince. "Why does it bother you?" he asks with her silent treatment.

"Because it's unnecessary when he responds to alternative methods," Natasha explains, less harshly than before.

"How do you think I would feel if he ripped you apart?" Bruce asks sharply. "Neither are necessary, and by necessary, I mean they are too unsafe and unlikely to work. I'm not going to put either of you in danger because of me," he replies quickly with a shake of his head. It was Tony's way of making him feel welcome after the other day, make him feel safe. "I just need to work on my control Natasha."

Prior to moving back to New York, his control was fine. It'd been over a year since he last transformed when she came to retrieve him and he was relieved with the progress he'd made. After Harlem he almost gave up hope of ever being able to maintain a grasp of himself in everyday situations. He'd started to interact with civilisation and work with the sick; it felt good to help people daily.

He's still in control. He's relaxed.

Sort of.

There's the underlying pressure he feels from the impending threat from HYDRA, it's reinforced with the other's anxiety over it. They may not talk about it or express it like he does but it's evident, he feels it coming off them in waves. They're all ready for battle, even Tony who's still on the fence about fighting but is co-ordinating support for the others, and he doesn't want to risk them by wading in with them.

He should leave before he changes again. Only he can't bring himself to leave. Not because he's worried they'll think he's turning his back on them but because they'll understand why and that's worse. So, the only thing he can do is work on his control. He's not sure exactly how it'll work in unexpected scenarios. Maybe he could get Tony to take him to that secluded warehouse and run some simulations on his control; Bruce wouldn't be able to have any prior knowledge of course, for fear of tainting the experiments. Tony would have a field day devising the situations.

"You like Starks' idea," she observes.

"I like the engineering involved; I'm a scientist Natasha, I appreciate the work he puts into the suits." He pauses, taking a breath to stop their argument from escalating. "He was offering me a way to cope, a way to stay after the other day without fear of ripping the Tower apart," Bruce adds, calmer after his quick pause.

Bruce enjoys the life he's built here.

He's content.

For the first time in years.

It's why he's reluctant to leave.

He's living with his alter ego rather than hiding him away. There's a glimmer of hope. There's a niggle of doubt it'll ever come to more than that, but there's a sliver of light.

Not just from Tony and Pepper there are others who have readily accepted him: Steve and Clint. Thor seems fonder of the Hulk than him, but Bruce supposes that's due to his warrior side and still counts his friendship. Then there's Natasha.

The woman who insisted he take her to dinner to apologise for almost killing her. The woman who kissed him in the rain. The woman who wants to have dinner with him again. The woman who barely bats an eye when he talks about hearing screams in his head, who understand what it's like to be afraid to sleep. The woman who put herself between his alter ego and the world, and survived.

"I trust you," he almost whispers, surprising himself and Natasha, who's looking at him like it's the last thing she expected him to say. It's the last thing he expected to say. "It's just difficult for me to accept anyone who works with him so easily."

"I wouldn't say it was easy Bruce," Natasha points out, her voice as gentle as his without trying to provoke an argument.

"Tony described it as effortless," he says softly, watching her face as she looks down. If he didn't know better, he would say a rose blush starts to creep into her cheeks. He blinks to check his eyes and it's gone.

"I went with my instincts," she says and worries her lower lip with her teeth. "I never expected him to recognise me and if he did, I never expected him to listen to me."

"But he did," Bruce assures her and is reminded of his gratitude toward her despite his reservations. "Thank you for stopping him. I don't have to walk away from my life that I like, with friends I like."

Like Tony. Like her.

His gaze drifts over her face as she stares back at him, as if she can hear his thoughts. Her bright green eyes soften as she utters, "We need to stop over thinking things Doc."

Anyone else thinking things? Let me know either by review or my PM's are always open