Author Note – thank you all for sticking with me as well as adding this story to your favourite and follow lists. Also, thank you to those who left reviews on the last chapter. I've also posted a one-shot, Snow. I would love to know what you all think of it.
Special thanks to my beta Black Victor Cachat for beta-reading.
From the Ashes – chapter nine
'She leaned forward and caught at his hand, pressing it between her own. The touch was like white fire through his veins. He could not feel her skin only the cloth of her gloves, and yet it did not matter. You kindled me, heap of ashes that I am, into fire. He had wondered once why love was always phrased in terms of burning. The conflagration in his own veins, now, gave the answer.' - Cassandra Clare, Clockwork Princess
The reaction is instant. The water bottle drops from his fingers and bounces off the table before landing on the diner floor, its contents cascading out. The cap scatters somewhere toward the counter.
His body lurches. His torso coils in on itself before a pulse forces him to bend outward, his back straining to stretch that far. His heartbeat pounds in his ears as he barely manages to lift his head to meet Natasha's concerned gaze.
Then she's moving from his blurred vision, he can only make out the colours of her clothes and hair as she slides from the booth, swiping something from the table as she does. He doesn't register her hands on him but he's pulled out of the booth. The room spins as he's half dragged, half carried to the door by a woman who is significantly smaller than he is.
His panting barely conceals the growls threatening to escape. He fights it as hard as he can, except he's too far gone and he knows it. He's too far gone even before the heat bursts from the pit of his stomach, travelling through his heart, up his neck and exploding in his head. Natasha does her best to put as much distance between them and the waitress and cook he senses cowering behind the counter. They don't have the time for Natasha to try to calm him.
His mind is lost in a fog. The transformation is a stream of sensations more difficult to track than his thoughts. Blood is rushing through him; his heartbeat is out of control. His body starts to grow, his clothes stretch and rip where they can't contain his spreading mass. He can barely feel the floor let alone count the steps to the diner door. He's propelled through it into the open air.
Bruce closes his eyes at the onslaught of the sunlight blaring down at him. Every sensation is a struggle as he changes. He feels the itch flowing through his veins, he can't fight it and he has no choice but to let it consume him.
It takes over with his permission.
Then he doesn't know where he stops and Hulk begins. He blinks, his blurring vision catches a glimpse of green as he gives over control and unleashes the roar he's been holding back.
Natasha drags him toward the exit. She doesn't hesitate even with his convulsing, morphing body. Her strength propels them forward, yet she doubts they'll manage to get out of here before the Big Guy graces them with his presence. In moments, he won't fit in the car either.
She practically shoves him through the door. The frame is too small to manoeuvre his growing form causing her to give up supporting him for a second. The moment her hands come away from his body, he stumbles and collapses to the ground. With a cursory glance at the tree line and for any vehicles racing towards them, she drops into a crouch beside him to drag him the last few meters toward their car. Except he doesn't have the coordination or control to lift himself to his feet, yet he manages to start crawling on the paving slabs. Or it could just be an illusion as he grows. He finally reaches the cover of their car and twists to rest his back against it.
The squeal of tires hits her ears and she joins Bruce behind their car to get some shelter before the pick-up truck that just left, returns. Checking the gun at her waist, she looks down at his still convulsing body and wishes they had developed a way of using the Lullaby mid-transformation. She's not exactly in the frame of mind to field test anything today- she doubts she'd stand a chance against a drug-induced transformation - but it's something to consider for the future.
Movement behind her distracts her from Bruce's flailing as Tracy scrambles to lock the door, protecting herself from either them or the men who put her up to trapping them. Probably both.
"Get behind the counter and keep down!" Natasha yells. She's only bothering because she's certain the woman is a civilian and was coerced into this. From the way she's moving now, it's clear she's reacting without training to deal with this situation. The sound of fabric ripping brings her back to Bruce, to see his clothes straining with his growth as he hunches close to the ground in front of their car.
"Bruce," she says grasping his jaw and forcing him to look at her in a last-ditch effort to bring him back to her. His eyes are all over the place, yet brown for the moment. He's disorientated and only keeping his head up because she's supporting his neck. She doesn't know what effect the drugs will have on Hulk when he emerges.
Natasha does a quick visual check of Bruce; under her touch his heartbeat is like it's jumping out from his skin, bouncing off the pads of her fingers. He's almost gone, only a small patch of pink flesh remains above his collar. The veins on his neck worry her, they don't normally bulge this much during a transformation. But they're a deep blue still, and she puts it down to whatever he was drugged with. If she were to guess, she would assume his drink was spiked with a strong dose of adrenaline. Which will probably work its way out of his system by the time she's able to get him to Stark to run tests, making it impossible to prove.
"Tasha, no," he groans, his voice low and pained as his face twists into Hulk then morphs back, as they both try to fight it. Her hand cups his cheek.
"I don't think you have much of a choice here, Big Guy," she soothes him. She hates seeing the searing pain flutter across their faces as they struggle.
"No Hulk," Hulk struggles again with ragged breathing, shaking her hand off as if her touch hurt him. "Tasha…" he begs.
"I know Big Guy," she whispers as the last shreds of Bruce's shirt fall away to reveal green flesh and muscle. Their car shifts as his growing back muscles press against the side of it and moves a couple of feet before he jerks up and supports himself. She gives him a moment to take in their location, before reaching out to him again, except he shies away from her. Her heart drops.
"Work with me here, and we're gone," she pleads, sparing a glance through both windshields as a second set of tires squeal to a halt at the only road in and out of the service station. Then a third.
Fully formed, Hulk's instincts kick in as he springs up and spins towards the threat, suddenly on the defensive. She's fairly confident she can keep him from starting something but it won't be easy to persuade him from finishing whatever they do. She's just glad he's snapped out of his passive state, she can work with him like this. She rises slightly from her crouch to view those cornering them. Four men in tactical gear, tucked behind the doors of their vehicles with guns levelled at them. She suspects, even at the last minute, Ross's squad will have managed to procure and stash a sonic canon amongst their cache of weapons. The other guns are, though standard issue, top of the line.
"Step away from the building!" comes the clipped order from the loudspeaker atop of the middle vehicle. It's not Ross's voice and Natasha realises he won't reveal himself by linking himself in person. "We advise any civilians to leave the building by the rear exit and clear the area," the voice continues.
"Doctor Banner, Agent Romanoff, under a special amendment to the Accords, in an instance of Doctor Banner transforming without due cause, we have orders to return you to the Facility!"
Natasha's eyes narrow. That wasn't in the version of the Accords she read or signed. She almost sure it's a bluff but Ross could've pulled some strings late last night to have it added. She's sure Fury would've said something if he had.
Hulk straightens his back, flexing his muscles as half a dare, half a threat. If they were training with the guys, she might smile. Unfortunately, they're not and there's no way the other Avengers will be able to reach them in time. But she's confident they can neutralise this situation without shedding blood. She checks that Hulk is keeping his cool as he towers over her. His heavy breaths cause his muscles to undulate. His cold stare pierces their opponents. She can see the tiniest shake of at least two of their weapons. Natasha is a touch offended it's not only because of her. The man on the far right cocks his head slightly, and she sees the sunlight bounce off his earpiece. Taking orders. She doesn't really want to stick around to find out what they are, and she's about to turn to her huge backup when she feels the ground shake under her feet.
She steadies her feet as she hears the low rumbling of a heavy-duty vehicle approaching, slower than the others. They part as the armoured vehicle turns the corner into sight, and the large gun on top trained on the diner. Natasha spots the tiny lens of the bodycam on the soldiers' lapel. Instinctively she knows how this will play out. Ross is starting to piss her off, and she hopes he has a good view from cowering behind a camera.
"We need to go," she whispers at Hulk. He snarls at their adversaries but she senses that was a response for her.
There's no return warning or threat from the soldiers on the ground, but the large gun barrel adjusts to aim above her head. She and Hulk work in tandem as the mechanisms whir. She dives towards him as his large arm winds around her waist and pulls her into his body as he jumps away from the diner. His hand splays her stomach, holding her to him as his chest curls over her back to protect her as the charge travels through the front window of the diner.
"You have a go," Ross says into the microphone linking him to the Saunders, running the mission on the ground.
He stares at the screen with grim satisfaction as the diner explodes in flames. He has no real concern that the civilians inside are in any imminent danger, despite the collapsing building. They were given fair warning. They'll be free of the structure soon enough. Though collateral damage is fair at times like this. For the greater good after all.
He's already violated several oaths and laws to facilitate this little demonstration, least of which included hacking traffic cams to run facial recognition software to track the two Avengers as they left the capitol. His reputation is shot to hell as it is; what's one more thing to add to the growing list?
He's been humiliated, discounted, and ridiculed by those who should respect and listen to him. All to the benefit of Banner, the bane of his existence. Ross didn't like him when he was just a scientist in a white coat who worked side by side with his daughter; the man cowered behind his equipment with a limp backbone. Then he had the audacity to woo Betty. The former General can barely fathom how the placid thinker contained the monster within him for so long. A monster hailed a hero without the years of training and dedication that men like Ross, like Saunders, and the rest of the men in his unit, who hadn't received one iota of the recognition Banner, or the Hulk received.
But the green monster is in all his glory on the screen. Snarling over his shoulder while he shields Agent Romanoff from the explosion and the men on the ground. Hulk pays them no heed; his focus is fixed in the middle of the screen. If Ross didn't know any better, he would swear the Hulk was staring straight at him. The dead, unflinching stare cuts through him like he's there in the field, and Ross subconsciously shifts in his seat when the beast bares his teeth.
Then a cluster of blonde hair peeks out from under the hulking green. Instantly, the Hulk's attention shifts to the agent he's shielding, and it may be Ross' imagination, but the monster seems to soften at the lightest touch of her hand on his forearm despite the shot of adrenaline Ross's men smuggled into the bespectacled scientists' food. They should've used a higher concentration of the drug because Ross needs a fiercer reaction than this. He expected the powerful creature to come out swinging, ripping everything and everyone apart.
Ross keenly observes the interaction as the renegade Avenger speaks to the great oaf, with patience he's never witnessed in either of them. There's audio, yet but he can't hear what she's saying from this, especially not over the sound of the car alarm blaring in front of the diner. He inches closer to the edge of his seat as the Hulk looks back and forth between the diner, his men observing them – by now readying another direct assault on the two Avengers – and Romanoff. From this angle, he looks defiant, except then she says something else and directs him toward the diner. He's never been able to read lips so he has no choice but to watch their conversation, for now, he'll be able to clear up the audio during playback later.
"Sir?" Saunders questions across the comms link.
"Whatever force necessary Colonel," Ross reminds him. "People need to be aware of the power he harnesses. A power we can replicate to create an army against the purple bastard who wiped out half the planet."
"Yes Sir," Saunders replies, ready to make the final move. "On your order, Sir."
Most of their weapons are useless against the bullet-proof Hulk but with they'll have the desired effect. "You have a go Colonel."
The Big Guy's arms encircle her, holding her to him. She can feel the rage building in him, mirroring her own, but she can't let her temper take over when she needs to deal with his. In one stride they're away from the building, yet the gun still discharges.
The glass shatters as the round explodes inside of the diner. Flames start to rise out of the kitchen area. Through the crackle, she can hear Tracy's screaming. Natasha glances around Hulk to see the men have them covered again. Hulk is her only shield,
He would choose now to have an issue with leaving her exposed, she thinks testily, as Hulk refuses to leave her to rescue the waitress from the burning building. Her head is pounding, and her ears ring from the explosion. The blaring alarm isn't helping. Their car is a shell, shattered glass from the windscreens clutters the ground amongst the glass from the diner. The only reason it is even that intact is that Tony buys quality vehicles. She will still reprimand him for not making sure all his cars are more bulletproof. Her feet still hover above it from where Hulk holds her to him.
"You've got to get the people in building out of there," she insists and wriggles in his hold to get him to release her. Somewhere above all the noise, she can hear Tracy screaming.
"Tasha," is the gruff rebuke, as he glances between the dinner and the men zeroing in on their position. None of them has broken formation, none daring enough to test the Hulk's wrath with a solo mission. At least they're not that stupid, or their survival instinct works better than their strategies. Hulk glances back at her. Not for permission, a promise.
He's more than a mindless beast Ross wants to control. He gets a little carried away but his results speak for themselves; he gets the job done. She's always been a little envious of his ability to create chaos without the same discipline she's been trained with. Unfortunately, this isn't the time or the place to demonstrate either.
"Get them out, and we're gone," she promises.
Still, he looks uncertain. She can feel the tension in his body, he's ready to pounce and smash their assailants. "I know how satisfying it would be to tear them apart, and I wish we could Big Guy, but that's what they want!" she tells him.
Hulk frowns at her.
"There are people who need our help," Natasha prompts him, and he finally registers Tracy's screams. He cocks an eyebrow at her. He has a point, she concedes it with a nod. That woman and the others in the diner screwed them over, even if they were coerced. Even if they knew who they were screwing over, the details, and the consequences, or not. "We can't give Ross the satisfaction of leaving them in there. One or both of us is going in there. If you don't, I will."
When he doesn't release her straight away. She wriggles from his grasp, and sets herself on the ground, before taking a step toward the shattered opening, where the door frames barely hang onto their hinges. She barely gets a meter from him when the bullets start peppering near her. She's dragged back to the moderate cover of Hulk's body as he places her between himself and the shell of their car. She crouches and draws her own gun, ready to return fire while using the car as cover. She takes out the tires with Stark's newest, anti-armour rounds first before turning her aim on the men; she manages to fire off two rounds at the two nearest to her, her bullets pierce their body armour at the shoulders to incapacitate them, before the others start focusing their shots to take her out, rather than to keep her pinned down.
She spins and leans against the rear bumper to look up at her teammate. She slips the other gun from her waist and slides her spare magazines up the sleeves of her jacket and secure them with the tags on the lining. Gripping the guns, her thumb nudges the safety off. "They still need us," she reminds him with a nod at the diner. "I can take care of our friends, they have reason to fear me too Big Guy. Have you ever doubted me before?" she adds cockily with a teasing tilt of her head, daring him to confirm it when he looks like he'll refuse again. He smirks at her confidence and disappears into the smoking building.
After a breath, she whirls back to the relentless squad hammering her with ammo. Guns in hand, she returns fire, making sure not to leave any fatal injuries. After everything, she's still bound by her ledger and the legionnaire. Her targets fall back, but they're tougher than she expected, as some switch their guns to their uninjured arm to shoot one-handed. The lack of challenge this poses at least suggests some training with this set of men.
One bullet whizzes past her ear. She's quickly running out of bullets. A quick flick of her wrist dislodges one of the magazines in her sleeve. In one smooth movement, she drops one gun and grips the moving magazine while releasing the empty one from the guns' she's holding before sliding the new one in. Within seconds she recommences her return fire. The back of the armoured vehicle opens, and four more troops clamour out. Two men split away from the group to take up position next to their fallen comrades. The other two begin an advance around the perimeter toward her. She takes down the one on the far left with a bullet through the knee. The one on the right has too much cover from foliage and their vehicles. She can't get a good look at his weapon to identify it.
He moves swiftly till he gets a solid cover to rest it on to support it while firing. Natasha sighs at the sonic cannon and moves—the car won't offer her any cover from that. In seconds, it's locked and aimed at her. She dives backwards, the blast aiding her body's trajectory once it triggers. The car absorbs most of it, yet the kickback disturbs the debris from the diner scattered on the ground, and it follows Natasha until she hits the side of the diner, her head snapping back on the now empty window frame.
"Ugh," Natasha winces, her eyes screwing shut briefly with the sharp pain. Her ears start ringing from the impact and the pulse blast. She covers her face with her arm, but it doesn't stop some of the larger debris scraping the side of her head as it lands.
The pulses stop, it was only to draw someone out anyway. A large shadow falls across her and from the ground shaking beneath her, it can only be one person. She lowers her arm and squints up at the shadow looming over her, standing now between her and the guns. "Hey, Big Guy," she drawls. A few metres away, Tracy and the cook bolt for the treeline and the road beyond it.
She blinks as one large finger slowly brushes a clump of hair away from her face. Drawing it back, Hulk curiously examines her congealing blood on his finger, she can feel the rage building in him, his mouth twisting into a snarl. She wraps her hand around his pinky gently to soothe him. He eases just enough to look at her face.
"You don't need to do this, we can just go. Anywhere you want, as far as you want, just you and me."
"Hulk and Tasha?" Hulk questions slowly, intrigued by the idea.
"You and me," Natasha confirms.
"And Banner?" She nods, not sure why he felt the need to question that part. She'll ask him when they're in the clear.
Then the men start firing again. Natasha sighs as their bullets bounce off of Hulks' back. "Ross is using them as cannon fodder," she explains as she jumps to her feet. "He wants us to take them out so he can call you a killer. Don't give him the satisfaction." She angles herself into his body, her hands rising to hold onto him. "Get us out of here," she asks.
He doesn't move to comply at all. She looks up at his face and sees his intent. "I promised him I wouldn't let Ross find out about the Lullaby, Big Guy, don't turn that into a lie."
He spares a glare at the men behind them and their seemingly never-ending supply of ammo. "They follow."
"I took out their tires," Natasha points out, bringing him back to her. "They can't follow us, but whatever friends they have out there on the road could." He doesn't like that idea. "You're not known for stealth Big Guy, it's inevitable." She isn't being unkind, it's the truth.
"You want Banner," he says with a sigh.
"I want you both," she counters desperately. "Right now, you can get us out of here, and then we can talk this through." He's reluctant and she's forced to threaten him again. "Or I'll give the Lullaby a shot and see what Ross does with that information once he takes me and Banner in."
He doesn't react, pausing as if to challenge her to do just that. She's not afraid of him or Ross, consequences be damned. The only thing she cares about is not destroying the tentative steps they taken so far. Bruce might trust her but she's not entirely convinced Hulk does since returning to the planet despite being able to perform a successful Lullaby in Wakanda. With that in mind, Natasha lifts her hand, keeping eye contact with her huge teammate and utters the words, "Sun's getting really low."
He bats her hand down with a light flick of his hand. "Tasha safer without Hulk or Banner."
"Not if you leave me here," she argues, worried he will do just that. He has form. "Ross is just looking for a reason to lock me up."
They don't have time for this. During their conversation, the squad has been moving in, slowly so not to spook their huge prey. Hulk glances at them over his shoulder again and smirks. They pause like they're in a game of musical statues. Natasha almost laughs. Then the armoured vehicle sets two feet on the ground and starts rearing up to reveal another mechanism. Cables wrapped around what looks like a winch. The black strands light up blue, sizzling like her suit does when it charges her batons – no God or suit will protect Stark if he had anything to do with this design, she decides as she realises it's an electrified net or harness.
Whatever it is, it spurs Hulk into action, and she's swept up in his arms as he leaps over the diner. He lands by the chicken coop, yet doesn't waste time before leaping again into the tree line. He doesn't jump again. This time he runs with the protection of the trees, his natural camouflage blending in with the leaves. One large hand protectively cradles her head as Natasha wraps herself around him, her face tucks just below the crook of his neck. She's careful not to hinder his movements, with her legs and arms around his torso as he covers ground at a remarkable speed. She's been on this ride before and hopes it's not as bumpy as the last time.
