"I want to say somewhere: I've tried to be forgiving. And yet. There were times in my life, whole years, when anger got the better of me. Ugliness turned me inside out. There was a certain satisfaction in bitterness. I courted it. It was standing outside, and I invited it in."
-Nicole Krauss
"They want you to wear this. In case...we're not together and an incident occurs."
I looked down at the thing in Bruce's hands. It looked like a watch, except the face was entirely blank. It had black links on the band and green buttons on both sides of the rectangular display.
"What does it do?"
"It will send off an alarm and blink my location. There will be an agent to escort you if you don't know the way."
Bruce's voice was low and his expression guarded, but I could only imagine the embarrassment he was feeling at having to give me a device to keep tabs on him. It was kind of hard to strike up a friendly mood when one party was being monitored by the other.
"I won't track you," I said, pushing his hands away.
"If you act like an animal they tend to treat you like one," he said, putting it on the table and pushing it toward me.
My stomach turned at his sharp tone but I almost laughed. He was such a genius but he was so fixated on his flaws.
"You don't act like an animal," I asserted. I moved closer to him, curling his fingers shut and letting my hands linger. "You haven't even had an incident in a year."
He smelled like usual, a sort of soapy spice and I was close enough to look up and count his eyelashes. His gaze was narrowed and that made his lashes look even longer as he stared at me through half-lidded eyes.
"That could change at any time."
Now his hands were at his sides, but so close to my hips that I could feel their warmth through my jeans.
"So could anything."
I swallowed, knowing that if I moved an inch I would hit his chest. My rational senses were quickly leaving me, being replaced by the short breathing and rib-cage bending feeling that a certain doctor inflicted upon me.
It was just like in Calcutta, except this time I wasn't quite caught off guard. It was more like unbelievable contentment coupled with mild surprise coupled with every nerve in my body suddenly feeling alert.
I twisted his hair in my fingers and he twisted my shirt in his. My lower back was on fire from his palms, but it was nothing in comparison to my face. My cheeks were flushed and my ears flooding with warmth. I moved my hands down to Bruce's face, my fingers resting on his stubble. I almost knocked his glasses off but angled myself better, ignoring the pain in my leg because there was no way I would be taking a sit-down now.
I almost forgot we were in the lab. I usually felt vulnerable in there, with all the windows, but now I just felt happy and secure and right.
...Until Bruce pulled away. Again.
"Scarlett...I can't—we can't—do this." Bruce's breathing was heavy, making his words hit me even harder.
My brain was slow in recovering, so I'm pretty sure my response came out in a half-whine.
"Why not?"
"Do you need me to list the reasons?" he asked, his movements harried as he put considerable distance between us.
"No, but I have a feeling you will..." I muttered, my body calming down after the quick rush from pleasure to disappointment.
"I am much older than you. I am dangerous. If you're with me, you have no chance for a normal life, and I won't do that to you."
"And if I don't care about those things?"
"I care about them. Enough for both of us."
I let my stomach settle, except it didn't exactly fit back into any sort of normalcy. It was more like being on the brink of a stomach ache, and my chest ached right alongside it. With a sagging spine and a sudden need to be anywhere else, I fled the room.
"You're not listening to your instincts."
"You should be happy that my instincts are not to hit you."
Joanna rolled her eyes at me for the fourteenth time today. Since the bullet had passed through and thankfully not hit anything vital, I was now sans crutches but also limping. And in the world of S.H.I.E.L.D. that was apparently the cue to get in on the action.
Unfortunately, limping was not exactly the best state to be in when you're leaning self-defense.
"Do you need another break?" Joanna asked, her usual blonde ponytail morphed into a bun today as she gestured to the chair a few feet away from me.
"No, I'm fine."
She tossed me a water bottle and I chugged down half of it before she took it back to place on the floor beside her limp blue bag. Its strangled fabric was how all my muscles felt.
"Remember, you're learning the basics. Just trust yourself...depending on what position your attacker is in depends on where you strike. The eyes and nose are vulnerable on the face. The knee and other...sensitive regions for men are best below the belt."
"And what exactly do you mean by sensitive regions?" I asked innocently, blinking up at her.
She glared, and as had become her routine, ignored me. I smirked, taking in small amusements by bothering her. It made me feel better after learning she'd been spying on us. And maybe I wasn't in such a great mood since Bruce's valiant but stupid denial of our relationship.
"Alright, so let's imagine I'm attacking you from the front..."
She swooped at me, her reflexes unsurprisingly faster than mine. She was slender and light on her feet. I was a clumsy mess. I deflected her punch barely, tried not to move my injured leg too much, and may have barely grazed her shoulder with my ill-timed hit.
"Leverage your weight better. You're small so you need to maximize your force as much as possible."
We both turned to see Steve standing in the doorway with his arms crossed. I fixed him with a look of curiosity.
"I used to be shorter," he shrugged, walking into the room.
"Then I'll take what you had," I grumbled, moving over to the sanctuary of my chair.
He laughed, shaking his head.
"What brings you here Captain?" Joanna asked, her alert mode already flashing as she checked her many gadgets. "Is something going on?"
"No, just passing by."
I watched him move into the room, eyeing the punching bags in the corner. He shuffled slowly, his movements slow but deliberate. I was about to ask him if he'd prefer to fight Joanna when a new voice sounded from the doorway.
"Agent Gray."
This time, it was an agent in the hallway. Agent Coulson, to be specific, in his usual pressed suit and tie. His nametag fluttered as he moved closer to us.
"Yes sir?" Joanna said, snapping to attention as her cheeks flooded with even more color.
"Fury's having a quick meeting. Can you be ready in five minutes?"
"I'm ready now," Joanna chirped. "I just need to change."
Joanna grabbed her bag with lightning speed.
"Miss Walker," Coulson nodded, "Sorry to steal her."
"Steal away. My muscles thank you."
"And Captain. I'll see you later?" Coulson asked.
"Erm, yes," Steve responded, nodding his head.
I sank even farther into my chair and watched Joanna stuff her belongings into her bag. I had become better at reading emotions ever since realizing I could influence them. That, or it was painfully obvious. Either way, I felt my first pang of sympathy for Joanna Gray as she followed out Agent Coulson, quick and red-eared. No doubt their jobs made anything between them a sticky situation. I couldn't even tell if he reciprocated. He was quite hard to read...like some other people I knew.
I was pulled out of my musings by Steve. This was one of our first conversations, but he had an earnestness around him that I felt comforting. Plus, he was easy to talk to and that was welcome after a morning with a grumpy Bruce.
"Do you mind if I take over? Maybe show you some stuff with the punching bags?" he asked, rubbing his neck. "I feel a little useless around all the computers upstairs."
I grinned. While Bruce fiddled with gadgets and spewed data this morning, Steve and I had played cards. It was easy to get lost in all that science, even if you were from this generation.
"If you promise to take it easy on me."
"I make no such promise, soldier."
I smiled. He was already working out much better than Joanna.
"Alright," I clamored to my feet. "As a former member of the scrappy club, let's see what you've got."
"You can do something you know. You're staring—it's making me nervous."
"I would, Purple Shirt," I said, trying to be as normal as possible around him. "But I actually, physically, cannot move."
"Why?" Bruce asked sharply, looking up at me over his orange device. "Is your leg bothering you?"
"Not too much. I've been...training."
"Yeah...with emotions, right?" Bruce's nose wrinkled. "Agent Hallows explained some of it to me."
"Yes..." I answered slowly, suddenly feeling that I could get a little revenge from my hurt by riling him. "Plus the other training."
Bruce looked up at me. I bristled at his stare, because there has never been such...scrutiny in it before. At least not toward me.
"What other training?" He rubbed his temples. "Scar..."
That did it. He'd never called me by a nickname before. I was weak for that, and there went my attitude...
"I'm just learning some self-defense," I spewed, looking away. "It's good for me, really, just in case. You can never over-protect yourself you know."
"You won't need to protect yourself," he said, narrowing his eyes and dropping his voice. "If I ever...if you can't stop me, you get out of there. I don't care what the situation is. You know that right?"
"I don't think that's what they had in mind," I said quietly, inspecting the screens and calibrations that whirred around me instead of looking at his face.
"What did they have in mind? Are they expecting you to fight?" he asked, his voice rising in volume and intensity.
"No—"
"—Wait, wait, wait," a voice said, entering the room. I looked up to see a man with dark eyes and a long-sleeve shirt holding his hands up. He pulled over the stool beside mine and leaned on the table, holding his chin between his hands. "Continue."
I frowned and Bruce ran a hand through his hair. Since he was clearly not going to say anything and I felt halted in my speech, I spoke.
"Who are you?"
"This is Tony Stark," Bruce mumbled. "We stumbled upon him recently."
"Actually I stumbled upon you, saved the Captain, helped capture Loki, and now am here to help Mr. Green and Mean locate the Tesseract." He shrugged. "But that's just logistics."
I flailed again. My mind was still whirring with debate and this guy's fast talking wasn't calming me down.
"I'm Scarlett Walker," I finally said, slinking into the chair beside him. My leg thanked me as I leaned on the counter. I guess Bruce and I were done with our conversation. And our hashing it out. And any sort of relationship that we would ever have...
"Agent?" Tony asked, raising an eyebrow.
"No," I breathed.
"Scientist?"
"No."
Doctor?"
"No..."
"They let you bring your girlfriend on board?" he asked, turning to Bruce. "If so, I need to make a very quick phone call..."
"I'm a consultant," I cut in, saving Bruce (and myself) the discomfort of him denying that. "Sort of."
Tony opened his mouth again but Bruce cut him off, beckoning him over to one of his monitors.
"Tony," he said, gesturing to the screen. "We're calibrating the gamma rays..."
I tuned out after that, twirling the ring on my finger and counting the wrinkles on my finger joints. Anything to not hear this explanation again. I faded in and out of what they were talking about, hearing fragments of sciency-talk, and clenching my jaw every time I heard the word 'gamma'. It only reminded me of Bruce's condition and how it destroyed every semblance of his self-worth.
Well, what about my self-worth? It was really being tested here. Next to Natasha, I looked like an ugly stick with hair and Bruce's second rejection really did me in. Apparently, I was not meant to have what I wanted.
I tuned back in when Tony mentioned Bruce visiting Stark Towers. I couldn't imagine Bruce in the city. Both of my parents worked in the city and I'd seen the jutting building just a few months ago. It was hard to believe the man it was named for was standing in front of me. His arrogance somehow suited him.
"Last time I was in New York, I kind of broke...Harlem," Bruce muttered.
My eyes flitted back to him and I watched in shock as Tony pricked him in the back. As Bruce jumped, I grinned. Usually everyone walked on eggshells around him...It was nice to have someone treat him with aggression. Like I wanted to.
As if on cue with my thoughts, Steve happened to walk in at that very moment.
"Hey, are you nuts?"
Steve was so rarely angry, I watched in fascination as he fought with Tony. Bruce remained pretty calm the whole time. I grew bitter—he could so fine around them talking about his condition, but when I want a quick kiss, it's too much? Not very fair. Maybe everything with Sean had been a warning. You are miserable and you will stay that way, so get used to it...
"You've really got a lid on it," Tony remarked, breaking me once again from my mind rant. "What's your secret? Mello jazz? Bongo drums? Huge bag of weed?"
I smiled internally, despite all my negative thoughts. How many people could say they were here—among actual, real superheroes, helping save the world? Or at least witnessing it? I could deal with Bruce and his nagging desire to "save" me from himself later.
I heard the rush of air that accompanied the door sliding open and saw Agent Romanoff in her tight black suit. To my surprise, her eyes didn't fall on one of the men in the room, but instead locked on me.
"Scarlett, we're calling you up."
"Um," I stuttered, suddenly aware of my saliva. "What exactly do you mean by that?" Panic was already filling like a balloon in my chest.
"I'm going to talk to Loki," she said, "Fury figures if you set a...calm mood Loki will be looser with his tongue."
"What if he realizes and isn't quite happy about it?" I asked nervously. I felt foolish for seconds ago amping myself up about bravery and world-saving opportunities. Here was a chance to actually do something and I felt like emptying my stomach in a waste receptacle.
"Don't worry about that," Bruce said, his voice quiet but firm. "He's in the cage they built for me."
His cynicism was wearing on me, but I didn't have the time or patience to deal with it right now. And from the looks of it, neither did Natasha. She flitted her eyes toward the door and turned on her heel.
I bit my lip as Bruce turned his back. Tony fixed me with a curious look. I reached for the device near his hand, fastening it on my wrist.
"So you're the secret," Tony smirked, crossing his arms.
"A human bag of weed," I grinned weakly, echoing his previous sentiments. "Wish me luck."
Aiming to break 100 reviews! Thank you thank you thank you to everyone who leaves 'em. ;)
P.S. All recognizable dialogue is obviously not mine, despite my wildest dreams.
P.P.S. I'm accelerating her healing time for her leg. Defy reality!
