A/N: Sorry this took so long! I'll try not to take so long next time. I got in a silly, stupid little rut. Managed to climb out, though! :P
Special thanks to MissGerardWay, klane94, Post U Later, LightNote16, NoOneShallKnow, spikemyangel, Spotedleaf5, Anonymous Margret, Ladyofthestar, StatistNr27, Silver of Melody, Shara Raizel, 5harky and the other anonymous ones for all of the great reviews! :D I did a happy dance for all of them! Also thank you to the many alerts and favourites!
A big thanks to NoOneShallKnow my official beta for all the help and being completely awesome. Everyone should go check out her stories :)
And now, since you're not here to read my notes:
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When Bruce came to could tell he was flying. Only aircraft engines rumbled that loud. He shook his head, his back on fire. He could feel the needle points digging into his flesh but was unable to draw the Hulk forward despite the pain and the pressing need. Whatever was in that serum was doing its damn job. Bruce almost felt human.
He opened his eyes. The roof of the aircraft was steel, exposed beams and plate. The only light came from the windshield beyond and a few, small white lights. He looked at the windshield - they were flying east. It must be getting late - the sky was starting to darken on the horizon. The two in the cockpit were hidden from view.
He looked over his left. Across from him Tony was strapped to the bench with strong steel straps that were probably custom made just for him. He was still unconscious, his head lolling back, rocking to the vibration of the engines. He tried to use the sight to draw the Other Guy forward but he wouldn't come. He was asleep somewhere, lost to him.
"Welcome to the world of the living."
The voice was one from his nightmares, filled him with the deepest hatred and disgust. He tried to pull at his restraints but they were even more solid than Tony's. The steel cut his wrists as he struggled, baring his teeth, reaching inside for any sign the Hulk was there.
"I'd stop struggling if I were you, or I'll dose you again and put you to sleep."
Bruce relaxed, turning his head as he searched the plane for the loathsome creature which belonged to the voice.
"There's the source of the stink," he said, glaring at him.
Ross smiled. He sat in the passenger's seat, a rifle undoubtedly filled with more tranquilizers laying in his lap. Bruce knew that was a superfluous precaution. He would only shoot if he were afraid of the Hulk coming out. Bruce knew that if he really were to sedate him again he'd want the pleasure of being close as he rammed the needle into his neck, the pleasure of watching the hate in Bruce's eyes as the tranquilizer spiked in his system and shut him down.
In addition to the airman flying the transport there were several more grouped further down, near the cargo hatch. It took a Bruce a moment, but he recognized the interior design - it was one of the Black Wolf transports.
"Sleep well?" Ross's voice was smug.
"Oh, wonderful. I give your hotel three stars. Sorry, but it has a shit welcoming committee." He started to search within himself for the Hulk but was still alone in his mind. Rather than feeling the satisfaction the idea of being rid of the Other Guy should have caused, he was panicking. He had to get out of here, and if Tony woke up he had no doubt his increased metabolism would burn through the sedative fast and he'd rip apart the hanger and everyone in it in maybe two minutes. Maybe. "Do you pay your soldiers by the bullet because ten tranq's in the back seems like overkill to me."
"Well, you know how mercenaries are, Dr. Banner. They rarely listen to orders."
Bruce snorted, remembering the disgusting mess that the mercenary (Blonsky? his mind supplied) had become. Not one to be drawn out into a trip down memory lane he started to check his restraints for weak points.
"I apologize for the lousy service. It's not often we get freak accident mass murderers and mutants here," said Ross. He stood, lording over him, smiling down so fucking satisfied. Bruce felt a bolt of anger and his entire body quivered but nothing happened. He wanted to scream.
"Just so you know, it's not my disappointment you should be worried about, although that's something. It's his," he tossed his head at Tony.
"And why's that?"
"You remember how dangerous I was when I first woke up," he said, narrowing his eyes. "Or has your arm stopped hurting when the weather turns foul?"
The butt of the rifle slammed into his forehead with a dull thud, hard enough to make him see stars and daze him. He felt blood trickling down his brow and into his hair as his head throbbed with pain. Rage prickled, but still the shadowy presence remained elusive. It was maddening.
"He'll rip you apart, General," he said when his voice came back, each word like a dull spike of pain in his brain. "He won't stop at a bite. He'll turn you into mincemeat. You thought the Hulk was bad? He's got claws that can rip through steel."
"We have taken special precautions with Stark."
Bruce blinked, looking back over at his friend. In addition to Tony's restraints an IV ran into his arm, continually pumping something bluish into his veins.
"It's probably poisoning him," Ross continued, unconcerned. "If he were a human we'd be worried about permanent brain damage, maybe a coma. But you've already over lined his healing capabilities - six thousand percent, I believe? It will be interesting to see what it does to him."
He was holding a tablet. Bruce's personal tablet, one that Tony had specially crafted for him and given him for his birthday. He tugged uselessly at the steel restraints, glaring.
"Well, this data will be very useful." He set it down next to Tony and turned to look back at Bruce, who was baring his teeth at him. He seemed amused.
Bruce glanced at the IV line again. "When did you develop that?"
Ross glanced at the line. "We modified it from Dr. Sam Sterns's design. All of the data and the blood from the lab were very useful."
"Right. As useful as the abomination it created? Where's he at nowadays?"
Ross smiled. "That's classified, Dr. Banner."
"I'll bet it is. You always chase me, because you think I'm a monster and a key to bringing you fucking success, but you know what? The only monster in here is you. You were willing to sacrifice innocent lives, your own daughter and a teenage girl who has done nothing to anyone. You're disgusting."
Ross opened his mouth to reply when an alarm went off from the cockpit. He tried to look forward but the airman was hidden behind the chair. Ross went over to him and leaned over the dashboard, blocking the windshield and the blue sky beyond from view.
"What is it?"
"Bogey, coming in hot sir."
"What is it, one of Fury's? He's got to be pretty damn stupid to try something like this."
"Not Fury's. It's... small."
"Alert our escorts," said Ross as he slipped into the pilot's chair. "Evasive manoeuvres, prime the weapons systems."
"Sir, we're a transport-"
"We've got guns, now get the systems online! He's not taking Stark or Banner while I'm still alive to draw breath!"
The craft banked and Bruce felt the wind knocked from him as he was rocked to the side in his restraints, head throbbing as it cracked into the hard steel seat. The IV attached to Tony's arm fell with a crash, the bag splitting in a wash of blue fluid, spraying the ground and walls. Storage boxes tumbled from their places, strewn over the floor. The airmen tried to compensate but even they were falling, their guns clanking against the metal, their bodies slamming into each other with muted thuds and yells. If Bruce wasn't so afraid of dying in the craft without seeing through some of his hopes and ideas he would have been laughing at the spectacle. Who was Ross hiring, the fucking three stooges?
An explosion rocked the craft, jostling him in his harness. Through the small window something big - like a wing - flew past. Ross was swearing, the pilot yelling. "Phantom two is down!"
Another burst of machine gun fire and something silver flashed by. There was another boom, this one rocking the craft, and there was a crunch. He yelled, wincing at the sound of twisting metal.
"Our weapons have been neutralized, General Ross," said the pilot. "It's one of Stark's!"
Tony's confusing words and urges of a vacation suddenly made sense.
Fucking Rhodey. Now he did laugh as the craft banked again, and he wondered if he was going insane. Chances were it had happened a long time ago and he'd only just become aware of it.
The laugh turned into a yelp as a new shockwave rocked the craft, jarring him against the bench. He tasted blood as he bit his tongue.
"Phantom one is down!" yelled the pilot. "Bogey is targeting us."
There was a heavy thud from the side of the craft, like something had collided hard with the outside of the transport. The metal protested for a moment, and there was a crack - something was pulling at the door to the cargo hatch.
"Shake him off!"
"This is not a fighter jet sir, I'm only a transport!"
He tried to twist up, pivoting on the back of his head to watch, but the movement and the strain of holding the position tired him out.
There was another long groan before the entire hatch swung down, snapping as it reached the end of its hinges. Bruce could see the ocean far below and wondered where they were, how far it was to the ground, if they'd survive the trip. He found he didn't care. The entire craft buckled, sending the airmen scrambling in their places, just so they wouldn't be sucked out into the world beyond. One of them stumbled, lost his grip, and was launched out into space, his arms wind milling as he fell, his scream echoing behind him. A parachute opened behind him, a brown dot on the blue expanse beyond.
A silver figure, tall and imposing, landed in the entrance to the craft. His eyes glowed white as he surveyed them. "Well, well, what do we have here?" the voice was amused and full of energy, despite the fact he'd just shot down two F-18's and dismantled a carrier in a matter of minutes.
"SHOOT HIM! SHOOT HIM!" Ross was screaming.
The remaining airmen opened fire. Bruce yelped, turning his head as bullets ricocheted into the interior. There was a crack as one hit the windshield, several more pinged off of the metal beams and walls. One found its mark in Bruce's tablet which exploded in a burst of glass and sparks, and he found himself thankful that he'd had Jarvis remotely back it up to Stark Tower's servers.
"Cease fire!"
"That's smart," said War Machine. "You've taken a friend of mine. I'm here to take him back, General Ross."
"Did Fury send you?" Ross demanded, his eyes narrow bloodshot slits.
"Nope. Tony has a tracking device implanted in his arc reactor. I noticed it had no business being where it was, and he wasn't answering my texts, so I decided to make a house call. Good thing, too."
Bruce smiled, wondering if that were true as Ross looked at Tony in disbelief. Nothing gave him more pleasure than to know that the man in the passenger's seat was well and truly fucked over. The idea that he was set up for disgrace again filled him with glee, and the look on his face was one Bruce would treasure later, when he was finally allowed to let the other guy out again.
"I'm taking Dr. Banner as well, you understand. Of course you do. Now," he reached down, picking up the rifle that had slipped free when the craft had buckled, "go to sleep."
He fired. The tranquilizer imbedded itself into Ross's chest and the general slumped over in his seatbelt with a low groan, his eyes rolling up. Rhodey turned to look at the remaining airmen, who were all looking at him with mixed disbelief.
"Fuck off," he said.
They all unbuckled their seatbelts and jumped for the hatch. Bruce was chuckling as he watched them disappear.
"And you," he said, pointing at the pilot. "Fly steady or your head's going through that windshield."
The pilot didn't reply, but Bruce imagined his hands were shaking.
He hovered over Bruce. His mask pulled back to reveal the handsome, dark face of James Rhodes. Normally Bruce avoided him because he naturally avoided anything to do with the military, but right now Rhodey was an angel. The lieutenant grinned at him. "Good to see you doc. Will that cocktail kill Ross?"
"I doubt it. Maybe it will give him brain damage?" he said, trying not to sound too hopeful.
Rhodey laughed as he pulled apart Bruce's restraints. "So why didn't you go big and green on him?"
"The sedatives have shut the Other Guy down," he replied. He noticed the extra red and gold case attached to War Machine's back. "That for me?"
"For Tony, but you can borrow it, seeing as he's unconscious." There was a squeal of protesting metal as the restraints were pulled off of Tony's body. "The reserve power supply should get you as far as the rendezvous point."
"Sounds good." He pressed a button on War Machine's armour to release it. He loved the Mark IV. It was compact and light, and he didn't think he'd feel overly bad if he hulked out inside of it. It was Tony's cheapest and weakest suit.
"You been hit?"
Bruce twisted, trying to get a look at his back. His shirt was a little bloody from all of the tranquilizers he'd been hit with. "Ross went a little overboard. I'm fine."
He set the case down and stepped on the top of it. It split, revealing the gauntlets, and he hauled it up as it closed over his hands. Not a perfect fit, he thought as he sucked in his stomach, but it would do. He watched, fascinated, as all the various pieces closed around his arms and legs. The engineering that went into the Iron Man suit floored him, not for the first time. Each movement of the armour was so precise it was almost sexy. The chest plate conformed to him, and he suppressed a grunt as the tightening of the back plate drove the remains of the needles deeper into his back. The repulsor guns lit up with a whine as the helmet closed over his head and Jarvis's cultured voice appeared in his ear.
"Dr. Banner, what a pleasant surprise. Does Mr. Stark know you're borrowing this?"
"He's unconscious right now, Jarvis, but don't worry, I'll make it up to him later." He tested the suit. He'd never worn one before, but the design was so elegant and flawless that it was like a second skin, moving with him effortlessly. He knew the suit was so well designed it was almost telepathic.
"I'm sure you will sir. Reserve power is at full. You will have thirty minutes of sustained flight at 800 miles per hour."
Bruce smiled. Tony had been ranting about fixing the 'back up battery' issue. Seemed like he'd done a good job. He stepped over to Rhodey, who was cradling Tony in his arms.
"I'll take him," said Bruce. "It's better you do the shooting if we get intercepted. Also, if he wakes up, he might not be all that appreciative at flying over the ocean."
"So what?" asked Rhodey, handing Tony over. Bruce marveled at the strength increase the hydraulics gave him as he held Tony, who felt as if he weighed no more than a few pounds.
"No one told you?"
Rhodey shook his head, the mask snapping back over his face. Jarvis patched the comlink through to Rhodey's headset and his face appeared on Bruce's heads-up display.
Bruce stepped towards the cargo hatch. It wasn't the first time he'd be leaping into midair, but it was his first aircraft-less flight. He held Tony closer to his chest, feeling a coil of anticipation and fear in his stomach. He fought it down, but the sedatives were still doing their job.
"Tony's been infected by something. I'll give you the rundown later, but basically he wouldn't be that different from me when I get angry."
"Seriously?" asked Rhodey.
Bruce nodded. "Geronimo," he said, and they both launched out of the ship. Bruce smiled to himself with the knowledge that they were leaving the General drooling and slumped behind him without anything to show for himself.
The ocean spread out below them, deep blue and beautiful as they streaked across the sky, the sun setting in front of them.
"Where were they taking us?" he asked, scanning Jarvis's readouts - they were somewhere in the Caribbean. They blew past an oil tanker chugging along below them. His cameras picked up the workers on the ship below, pointing upwards at them. Some were waving and cheering.
"A research facility on an island not far from the Bahamas," said Rhodey. "From what I could find out, it was built for you a few years ago."
Bruce didn't reply. He was enjoying his flight immensely despite the dull ache in his back and head. Rhodey outlined the rendezvous point - a point over the Caribbean ocean not far from Cuba. From there they'd fly out with the rest of their team for destinations unknown. Bruce wasn't sure he'd go along with that. He had half a mind to take Tony and run. Cuba was a good start. He could fly somewhere else in South America, and then maybe head to Asia and find a crowded city to lose the two of them in. SHIELD could chase after their tail for all he cared.
There was movement in his arms. He couldn't feel it - the armour didn't register the minute shifting Tony made as he woke up. Rather Jarvis informed him, and he looked down at Tony, his face slightly warped from the viewing screens.
Tony's eyes opened in shock and he looked down. The sea heaved beneath them and he wrapped his arms tight around Bruce's neck, yelping in surprise.
"Easy there," said Bruce, adjusting his speed so Tony would be able to hear him around the roar of the wind.
"Bruce?" he asked. He craned his neck around and caught sight of the silver blur that was War Machine. "Ah, Natasha figured it out. Good." They continued to fly together, Tony relaxing perceptibly as he watched the world fly by. "So, how's the suit?"
"Tight," he admitted. He imagined that this was how a woman felt when she wore a corset. Between his stomach and the mess the needles were making in his back he couldn't say it was the most comfortable ride he'd ever had.
Tony chuckled. "Time to hit the gym?"
Bruce ignored him, smiling inside of the helmet despite the ache.
"Well, just so you know, this is the first and last time anybody gets to carry me like some kind of Damsel in Distress, so you better enjoy it while you can."
It was Bruce's turn to laugh. "You're hardly a virtuous maiden, Tony. And I'm not a dashing prince."
Tony grinned, his brown eyes wide and full of mischief. "Oh my hero," he sighed, tightening his arms around Bruce's neck further, whispering into where Bruce's ear would be without the mask on. "Oh my courageous, dashing hero. You have saved me from the clutches of torture, and I have naught to repay you with but my body. Take me and do with me what you will!"
Bruce would never admit how red he got inside the mask, or how he felt that Tony really ought to make certain parts of his suit more roomy as his mind took what he said and spun it out of control. Stop it, Banner. He's off limits. More than ever now.
"You know, you could drop him. I wouldn't tell," said Rhodey through his speakers, saving Bruce from replying.
Both of them laughed. Bruce held him tighter as he did a slow loop-the-loop, keeping the g-force to a low level. Tony's laugh turned into a whoop that spoke of exhilaration and freedom. Bruce knew it was selfish, but he never wanted to let go.
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Sorry it was so short! I'll try and update again soon. R&R!
