Hey all! More for you! Because you're worth it. *toss hair, wink at camera*

(Seriously, you actually are, that wasn't a joke. Come on, I was flirting. What?!)

Chapter Ten

Tony

Letting out a gusty breath of pure delight, Tony collapsed back into the comfy swivel-chair that was the Command Centre of his workshop, and span it around in a circle a couple of times. Watching Hulk and Thor go head-to-head had been better than he'd ever imagined – and he had a pretty darned vivid imagination. The immensity of it, the sheer power of the two titanic beings clashing together had been breathtaking. He felt buoyant, weightless and giddier than he had in a long time, as though the arc reactor had suddenly become a sparkles-and-unicorns bubble of light rather than two pounds of metal lodged in his chest.

Fuck. That was awesome.

Spinning his chair one last time, he stopped before his computer and fired it up with a wave of a hand, pulling up the specs for the Hulkbusters. Damn, he wanted in on that. Sparring with the Hulk? On that level? Shit yeah. He was going to get some of that action, even if it killed him – and thank you, dour little Bruce Banner voice in his head – it wasn't going to kill him. Pessimist.

"Incoming call, Sir. It is Lt. Colonel Rhodes on the line."

"Rhodey, yeah, sure, put him through." Tony peered at the armour's arm joints and quickly scrapped a few linkages that wouldn't stand up to the colossal forces he had just witnessed. The Hulk would tear through them in seconds. Fucking awesome.

"Tony!" Rhodey's face blinked up on another screen, floating in mid-air. "You ever gonna answer your messages? How'd it go after Istanbul?"

"Hey honeybear, was totally going to get back to you, cross my battery," Tony said absently, exploding the diagram and examining the set of the arms, the counterbalance required to lift the weight of them. "Been a bit busy."

"Doing what, exactly?" Good old Rhodey. As unimpressed as ever. His long face was set into an expression of extreme scepticism. "No Stark Industries work, that's for sure; no-one's been ranting about you on Fox for weeks. No battles since, oh, let me think now..."

"Fine, everyone's fine," Tony interrupted. "My suit got junked, but I'm okay. Clint got his ass scorched, which was probably the biggest injury of the day. No thanks to your useless toy pop-guns, man. When are you gonna let me replace that Hammer junk with something that doesn't, let me see, suck?"

"When you manage to fly your lazy can out to Langley again," Rhodey grinned. "I can't always be coming to your place. I have a job, remember?"

"But my place is so much more romantic, sweetie-buns," Tony said, flopping back in his chair and smiling back at his friend.

"Romantic or not, I'm gonna be off-grid for a couple of weeks," Rhodey said. "There's a peacekeeping manoeuvre planned in Syria, and I've been tapped to protect the ground forces and the aid workers. You got anything planned for that part of the world that you've conveniently forgotten to tell me?"

"Like I said, been busy," Tony shrugged. "This one's yours. Have fun. Bring me back a mole rat."

"What the hell have you been so busy doing?"

"There's been an escape from the Cube, and I'm consulting because that's what consultants do," Tony said, waving a hand.

"I heard about that. Some mutant guy?"

"Not a natural mutant, a gamma mutant."

"Like the Hulk?"

"No-one's like the Hulk," Tony said emphatically.

"So that's all you've been doing? What, are your fingers broken, you can't pick up a phone?"

"Psssh," Tony scoffed. "Like I ever pick up a phone. That's what JARVIS is for."

"So what's really been taking up all your time? Don't tell me, you hit the casinos again."

"Hulk stuff," Tony said, and the elation bubbled up through him again. "Shit, Rhodey, you should see it. He's fucking incredible. He's... like a force of nature, and he's science, and he's like a kid, all at once. Well, like a hyperviolent giant angry kid with no context, but hey, no-one's perfect. I was babysitting Hulk until Banner grew some balls and took the lead – and holy crap, did he ever. The shit he's been through, Rhodey, and he gets up in the morning and goes and faces it all over again. He's the bravest son-of-a-bitch I've ever met."

"Must be. I haven't ever seen you so damn impressed with anyone who wasn't you."

"You wound me, candy-apple. You know you're still my favourite."

"Tony," said Rhodey in a much more serious tone of voice, "you know what you're doing with this guy?"

He raised an eyebrow. "Uh, yeah? Science, mostly. And opening a salon. What do you think of the name, 'Stark Scissors'?"

"Sounds like a new invention. I just mean, well, you don't have a great track record with letting the right people get close to you." Rhodey shook his head. "That came out wrong. I mean-"

"Can this be a thinly-veiled reference to that treacherous slimebeast Obie? Why yes, I believe it is," Tony rolled his eyes, clamping down on the sudden lurch in the pit of his stomach. "Bruce isn't Obie. He's an Avenger. He's not gonna run away with the arc reactor and sell it on eBay or use it to power nefarious killer robots of death. Don't know if you've noticed, but the Hulk hasn't got any use for killer robots or a suit of armour, even if it can fly."

"Not the Hulk. Banner," Rhodey said, and sighed. "Look, he doesn't try anything? No damage done; no harm, no foul. I'm not saying get rid of the guy, just that you should be careful. I know he's your friend. But I am too, and I'm just looking out for you. Banner's a scientist, he's gotta be interested. Just... watch yourself, okay?"

"Warning duly noted," Tony snapped. "And totally unnecessary. Seriously, Rhodey? Neither of them is gonna hurt me. Bruce is my friend, and Hulk practically rolls over at my feet to get his belly scratched. And you don't just talk about one of them. It's both or neither. They're a package deal, two for one offer."

"Banner's been on the most-wanted list a long time," Rhodey continued stubbornly. "He's killed a lot of people."

"So have I, and no-one ever stopped me. Hell, I got rewarded." Tony folded his arms and lifted his chin. "Banner's a genius, an Avenger and a candidate for fucking sainthood in his spare time. And the Hulk... well, Hulk is learning. He's actually good when you give him the opportunity to be, and a framework he can understand. He's intensely, profoundly cool. And that's all I have to say on this, so if that's what this call was about..."

"Fine, fine," Rhodey said, frustrated. "I worry about you sometimes, that's all."

"I'm a big boy now, sugar-tits. Tie my own shoes and everything."

"Only because Pepper moved out."

"Ouch. You're not winning any popularity contests today."

"Seriously, you doing all right with that?"

"Hey, it's me,"Tony smirked and spread his arms. "Tony Stark, billionaire superhero frat boy. I am the very definition of all right."

"You're not fooling a god-damned soul, Stark."

"We're still friends, everyone's friends, it's great to be friends, talk soon, bye," Tony said, and closed the screen with a flick of a finger. Sitting in the silence, he brooded for a moment. His good mood had vanished. God, Rhodey was like the kryptonite for fun sometimes.

He stared through the Hulkbuster specs for a moment, toying with the leather on the arm of the chair. This thing. He remembered when Ross had commissioned it. It had never been put into production; other weapons prototypes, like the sonic cannon, had been deemed more suitable against the Hulk's particular style of anarchic destruction. Suddenly angry with himself, he pulled down the exploded diagram and threw the whole design into his virtual basketball-ring trash can.

"Tony?"

He looked up. Bruce was standing in the doorway. He was toying with his glasses, looking weary and somehow rumpled even though it was only eleven in the morning and his clothes were clean and pressed. "Everything all right?"

"Yeah." Tony scrubbed at his face. "Just... nah, nothing. Don't worry. How's Thor?"

"Fine. Eating again. Wants a rematch." Bruce slipped his glasses on, ducking his head in that way he had as he did so. "I think Hulk must have K.O'd his common sense or something."

"Rematch is happening. I'm gonna sell tickets," Tony said decisively. Screw Rhodey anyway. He hadn't seen Hulk wrap his massive hand around Bruce's with infinite, delicate care. He hadn't seen that same hand crashing into a Norse god with the sound of tearing air. He just didn't know what the hell he was talking about.

Something of his thoughts must have been showing on his face, because Bruce was giving him an odd look. "O... kay," he said slowly. "Well, if you're not busy or anything, I could really use a second set of eyes on this. I've pulled together the primary evidence to begin investigating whether Hulk and I can be recombined, and..."

"Say no more." Tony stood as though he was spring-loaded and practically raced over to sling an arm over Bruce's shoulders. "Lead on, MacDuff."

The physicist smiled, adjusting Tony's arm so it didn't weigh on his injured shoulder. "Actually, it's really 'Lay on, Macduff,and damned be him who first cries 'Hold! enough!', you know."

"I legitimately did not know that," Tony said as he steered them towards the lab that had rapidly been designated as Bruce's nearly two years ago – a pleasant, airy workspace with plenty of natural light. "That is just so fascinating, how very, very interesting, do tell me more, Doctor Shakespeare Nerdy Guy."

Bruce gave him a sidelong look. "You knew."

"Duh? Genius?"

Bruce laughed quietly, extricated himself smoothly from under Tony's arm and reached for one of the holographic screens floating serenely around his favourite workbench. "Here," he said, pointing out a series of biochemical markers. "This is me before Stingray zapped us. You can see..."

"Jesus, I'm sort of amazed you still have hair, let alone that spaniel on your head or the thicket you call a chest. Actually, it's insane that you can even breathe," Tony said, peering closer. "That's one shitload of gamma."

Bruce's expression was tight. "These were the isolated chemical markers for Hulk." He indicated a set of fluctuating levels – testosterone, adrenaline, opioid peptides. "These constantly mutated or adapted in response to emotional stimuli. If they reached a certain saturation density..."

"You hulked out."

"Right," Bruce scratched under his cast, and then sighed. "Here's the hormone cocktail I created."

Tony scanned it briefly. This was much more Bruce's area than his – Tony preferred the mechanical side of the field rather than the squishy stuff – but he was up-to-date enough to keep up. "Trying to stabilise those fluctuating levels."

"That was the idea," Bruce pulled a face. "The wrong idea, as it turned out. I replicated the initial gamma levels involved in my accident to try and create a sort of anti-Hulk effect, if you will, an effect that was also tied to those hormonal levels that trigger Hulk, but in geared in the opposite direction."

"Triggering you instead."

"Yeah, that's right. Didn't work."

"Of course it didn't," Tony leaned his hip on the bench and cocked his head at his friend. "He's not a biochemical malfunction; he's you."

"Obviously I was working under a false hypothesis," Bruce said dryly. "However, I wasn't really in the mood to listen when you tried to tell me that."

"Y'know, it's a song and dance routine, now-"

"Tony," Bruce said, holding his nose in that familiar long-suffering manner. It made Tony want to ruffle his hair, pinch him, prod his side – anything to see his calm crack around the edges. "You were right. Will you drop it?"

"Never." He grinned again, his mood swinging up once more. Bruce and science, the antidote to Lt. Colonel Kryptonite Rhodes.

Bruce dropped his hand, revealing a twitching smile. "Of course you won't. Silly question."

Tony's laughter threatened to bubble up, and so he cleared his throat and turned back to the screen with a professorial sniff. "Sooo. Before we were discussing my totally legitimate reasons to gloat, we were talking about..."

"Right, right," Bruce flipped through several screens before selecting one. "Here. This is my blood now."

"Huh." To Tony's unpractised eye, it was as normal as blood could get. "Well, that's boring."

Bruce's mouth twitched again. "It took some convincing," he said next, "but I managed to get Hulk to give me a swab from inside his mouth. There were enough cells present on the sample to create a digital model." He flicked his hand to spin another holographic screen to the forefront, and Tony gasped.

"Fuck, it's off the scale in every direction," he murmured breathlessly.

"At first I thought your equipment was malfunctioning," Bruce said.

"Bite your tongue."

"I need to figure out just how much electricity got pumped into us during the change," Bruce said thoughtfully, bringing the last two graphs side-by-side. The comparison was dramatic: plain old vanilla human Bruce, with his utterly normal levels of just about everything (and apparently, a slight iron deficiency, probably due to his injuries) and Hulk, a superhuman in every sense of the word. "I want to run digital simulations before we start having to deal with actual electrical fields or gamma radiation."

"Have you started simulations?" Tony brought Bruce's pre-separation stats closer, studying the flickering dopamine and serotonin levels.

"No, I was hoping you could help me with that. I still need to write the program. You're faster than me at programming and coding. Would you?"

Tony clapped his back. "Of course."

Bruce smiled at him, gratitude flooding his eyes. Then he seemed to check himself, pursing his lips and turning towards the biochem freezers. "We won't have much time for simulation testing before we have to go on to the practical, though. I've got some samples of my blood from before locked in that fancy new graphite fridge – you are so rich it is obscene and a giant showoff, by the way – it'll have begun gamma decay, but there should be enough of the original isotope left in there. I hope. But it won't last long once we thaw it."

Keep talking science at me, Bruce. It's helping.

Tony raised his eyebrows. "Are we talking an all-nighter? Sleepover Science Party, no Caps allowed?"

Bruce's head tilted. "Ah, probably not. Hulk, remember?"

"Oh, yeah, forgot you were a single father now." Tony nudged him, and Bruce gave his soft chuckle again, brown eyes tipping down.

Bruce is the best, the fucking best. God. How can Rhodey think this guy would ever...?

"Tony?" Bruce blinked and his brow began to furrow. "Tony, you're acting a bit... off. Are you sure you're all right?"

He jerked. "Why is everyone asking me that? I am fine. Never better, in fact, I am a dazzling specimen of good health and well-being and all that," Tony grated, before stalking around to the other side of the counter, his shoulders held stiffly. He dragged one of the dark glass tablets towards himself and opened a new coding platform for the simulator, his fingers dancing over the screen.

The tablet was roughly yanked out of his grasp, and he made a noise of protest, his hands following it needily. "Bruuuuce, I was working on that..."

"Talk," Bruce ordered him, putting the tablet behind him and folding his good arm over his sling.

"What? No! Just give me..." Tony tried to reach around the guy to filch the tablet back, but Banner was an immovable little nugget of a man, and apparently as stubborn as a whole shipload of mules. He shifted his weight just a little to block Tony's access, and the tablet might as well have been on the other side of the moon.

Ah, fuck.

"You wouldn't let me hide from it, Tony," Bruce continued, his expression implacable. "I'm returning the favour. Whatever's bugging you, let it out."

"Bruce..." Tony growled, and Bruce shook his head, his curls slipping over his forehead.

"Nope. Talk."

"It's seriously nothing, just Rhodey being an overprotective asshole," he tried to shrug it away.

"Oh?" Bruce took off his glasses, folding the arms neatly, before he leaned back to listen. "What did Rhodes say?"

Tony's breath left him in an explosive rush. "He thinks you're gonna make off with the arc reactor because you have a science boner for it. He doesn't like Hulk. He asked about Pepper. And he still won't get back here with my suit so I can take that embarrassing Hammer shit off it!"

Bruce mulled that over, before his eyes began to sparkle with mirth. "He thinks I'll take the arc reactor?"

And he began to laugh. Actually laugh – a real one, deep and rich and from the belly. Tony hadn't ever heard Bruce laugh like this. Bruce usually just chuckled, a wry sardonic sound that always seemed as though it was half-directed at himself. This was full-throated and free, untouched by his typical cynicism and completely unfettered. It was... breathtaking. It began to diminish as Bruce got himself under control, fading to chuckles and sighs of amusement.

(Tony wanted to hear it again.)

"Uh. It's not really that ah, funny or anything. It's happened before," Tony said, gobsmacked and wondering what the hell kind of reaction this was. Bruce shook his head again, his hand pressed against his ribs to stop them aching as he continued to chuckle.

"Tony, what the fuck do I need with an arc reactor? Hulk would smash it in half a second!"

"Boom," Tony said, and began to snicker.

"Boom," Bruce agreed.

"Hey, maybe you'd like a shiny paperweight?"

"I have one, from when I was in Vietnam. It's not as pretty, but then marble is a lot less expensive than vibranium." Bruce wiped the corner of his left eye with the heel of his hand, and then regarded Tony with amusement. "I'm glad you have friends who worry about you."

"Are you human?" Tony asked suspiciously.

"What?"

"Because that is way too decent. You should want to punch honeybear's lights out. Or at least spread filthy rumours about his sexual proclivities."

"By-product of anger management training." Bruce shrugged, still smiling. "And to answer the question, yes, right now I'm boringly, disgustingly human."

"Well," Tony grinned. Bruce and science, absolutely the antidote. "Let's see if we can fix that."

Bruce tilted his head. "Hmm. In a bit. Who took it?"

Tony jerked back as though he had been stung. "What?"

"Well, you said it had happened before. Rhodes is worried about someone getting too close to you. Logically this suggests that you once trusted someone who took advantage of you and made off with the reactor specs. Who, if you don't mind me asking?"

"What if I do mind?" Tony's eyes slid away from Bruce's. They were just too... kind. Understanding. He hated it. He looked down at the man's mouth instead.

Bruce did that strange thing where he pulled at his lower lip with his teeth. He had full lips, Tony noticed. "Then I withdraw the question."

"No, no, hang on," Tony said, and sighed, stretching back on his chair. One hand automatically rose to trace the edge of the reactor, the minute vibrations escaping into his fingertips. It felt heavy again – it sometimes did. There was too much scarring, both internally and externally, to feel much sensation beyond its weight, but now and again he imagined he could feel it pulling at the deadly little shards of his own hubris that always, always strove to pierce his heart. "It was... someone I trusted, yeah. The guy who practically raised me. Cos, y'know, Dad was a busy guy and Mum had her charities and her gin, and someone had to keep an eye on the kid. After Afghanistan, well. He didn't steal the reactor specs. Not precisely."

Bruce's eyes widened slowly as he put the meaning of that together. "He stole the reactor straight out of your..."

"Yeah," said Tony shortly, a sharp flat exhalation. "He did. He was the one behind the kidnapping, the torture, the fucking waterboarding, everything. I looked up to him. I believed in him, and the whole time he despised me. He was a cross between a favourite uncle and a mentor, and he called me a golden goose and tried to kill me."

Bruce shook his head. "No wonder Rhodes worries."

"And Pep. Hell, Happy as well. JARVIS. Even Butterfingers worries. Everyone's a mother hen. No need. I mean, I'm Fort Knox these days. Security layers, passwords, ultra-private servers, extra reactors, the works. Fuck, once you've had your heart literally ripped out in front of your eyes while you're totally helpless to prevent it – and that is not a metaphor – you tend to get a bit paranoid."

There was a long silence, and then Bruce said, "I used to have an invisible friend."

Tony was shocked enough at the change of subject to laugh out loud. "What?"

"I had an invisible friend. When I was three," Bruce smiled tightly, though his voice remained matter-of-fact, conversational. So calm. So very angry. "I used to watch my Dad whaling on my Mum and think, my invisible friend will stop that. I told him everything. He was a little boy like me, but strong. Strong enough to save my mother, strong enough to stop... it all. Whack, whack, whack; you freak kid, you monster, too smart, too clever. Good old Dad. My friend didn't care that I was smart, only that I was strong."

Bruce paused. Tony licked at his dry lips and croaked, "Bruce?"

He looked up, and his dark eyes were almost black with fury. The calm in his voice never cracked. "One day Mum decided to make a run for it. She bundled me up and put me in the car. I was confused, and scared, and my invisible friend didn't know what was happening either. Then Dad came home and caught us, and Mum didn't get up again. I couldn't believe that one person could hold so much blood."

Dimly Tony realised that Bruce was offering information for information – that he was giving Tony something in return for telling him about Obie.

"That was the day my friend disappeared – he hadn't been strong enough. Not to stop that."

Everyone knew that Bruce's home life had been a horror show. It was written in businesslike, dispassionate black and white in his file, along with professional psych theories regarding how this had affected the creation and motivation of the Hulk. Alcoholic father; physical and emotional abuse; witness to the murder of his mother; compartmentalised trauma, and other such clinical buzzwords. Tony's own file had its fair share: Coercion, involuntary detainment, physical persuasion methods, instigator Obadiah Stane, Stark Industries.

Sure, they painted a picture. But they didn't tell the whole truth.

"So that was... was that...?"

"I don't know," Bruce said and scratched under his cast again. "I really don't. It could have been Hulk. Or I could intrinsically be a little insane."

"The best people always are."

"Hah. Thanks."

Tony blew out a long breath and looked up. "So. Always angry, huh?"

Bruce chuckled. Tony was expecting a bitter sound, the kind that came with the emotional territory, but Bruce's chuckle was sweet and light and actually sort of rueful. "Pretty much. But I'm learning to be angry and happy at the same time, I think. Hulk is better at this than I am."

"Hulk is basically a reactive guy. If he's doing better, it means that he has reason to."

"I get that, but thanks for the vote of confidence. And if you trust me enough to tell me about what happened to your reactor, it means you're learning to move past the damage this guy did."

Tony pursed his lips pensively. "All right, that's enough fucking feelings, for god's sake. I'm about to either break out into hives or burst into song, and neither prospect is all that appealing."

Bruce laughed again and held out the tablet. "I can't see you as a Disney Princess, somehow. You don't have the hips for it. All right then, programming wunderkind at the age of twelve. Go on, impress me."

For some totally nonsensical reason (and Tony wasn't going to read too much into this, because gross, feelings) he felt lighter again. Steadier. It was as though sharing those horrible dark moments with the other scientist had somehow stripped them of their dreadful, oppressive weight. In a far, far better frame of mind, Tony took the tablet back from Bruce and bent his head over the simulator framework again. Bruce himself began scribbling notes on his pad (dead trees, ugh) and equations on a screen, cross-checking them against the levels on the glowing graphs circling through the air, rotating around him with the serene grace of satellites.

They worked together in silence for a moment, and then Bruce said, "I never would, you know."

Tony paused, his fingers hovering over the screen. Then he resumed work, his mouth tilting upwards for reasons he wasn't even sure of. "I know."

Bruce

It was some time later when Bruce finally stretched out of his hunched-over pose. His back ached, and so did his ribs. He glanced at the time. "We should take a break."

Tony grunted, and then looked up. "What?"

He nodded to the clock. "Lunch, Tony. You know. The meal that customarily gets eaten between breakfast and dinner, sometime during the day."

"Smartass." Tony stretched lazily, like a satisfied, spoiled cat. "I'm almost finished this thing. You are gonna drool, seriously. It's the sexiest little simulator ever, and you will wish to hump it repeatedly."

Bruce rolled his eyes, and closed down the stats. "I'll practice swooning in advance. Right now, though, I think I should go and see whether Hulk has woken up. He ate before, but he'll be hungry again after such a busy morning."

"Fuck yeah, let's see Hulk," Tony said with surprising enthusiasm. "D'you think we could get him out of his room for lunch?"

Bruce considered it carefully, ignoring the initial knee-jerk reaction of NO. "I suppose. He'll be messy."

"No messier than team dinners after a battle, and I have robots that do cleaning things because hell no," Tony pointed out. "Come on, let's go get Junior's lunch ready."

A grin tried to form in the corners of his mouth, and Bruce schooled his face. "Okay, I'm saving this, wait up."

"J? You got Doctor Banner's work?"

"Your work is up-to-date, Sir."

"Ah, thanks," Bruce said, still occasionally taken aback at just how immediate things could be living in Stark Tower. "All right. Food?"

"You'll like this," Tony grinned. "I got him shawarma."

"Seriously?"

"You liked it, didn't you? I saw you guzzling it down, that first time."

"I'd hulked out twice in one day, Tony - I was completely starving. I could have eaten you if you'd been covered in enough garlic mayonnaise and tabouleh."

"Let's remember that you said that," Tony said, his grin turning devilish.

Bruce groaned. "You never stop, do you?"

"Come on, cranky pants." Tony slung an arm around him again. He seemed to like doing that, even though it pulled on Bruce's healing clavicle and shoulderblade.

To be honest, Bruce didn't mind it either. He shrugged his good shoulder so that Tony's arm rested painlessly over the strap of his sling, and the engineer steered them out of the room, still talking. "So I've been thinking, Moose..."

"What did you just call me?"

"Moose. We are so Moose and Squirrel, think about it. Anyway, I've been thinking about getting Hulk a bit more room to move. He'll be out of Time-Out in three days, and I don't think New York is exactly the kind of habitat he's best suited for..."

"Desert," Bruce said firmly.

"Desert?" Tony's wince was barely noticeable, but Bruce still spotted it. He nudged the engineer's side with his elbow cautiously.

"New Mexico," Bruce said, a little more gently. "Not a white sand desert. Not like that."

"Red rock," Tony said with some relief, before giving him a strange, measuring look. He was visibly uncomfortable, unusual for Tony. Perhaps he was still feeling a little exposed after their rather heavy conversation earlier. "Look at you, picking up on that. From Mister Fogtastic to Sherlock fucking Holmes in under a fortnight."

"New Mexico," Bruce said again, giving Tony an out. He dived on it gratefully.

"I've got an old testing site out there still." Tony frowned. "I think. I might have sold it when we pulled all the weapons contracts. Why New Mexico?"

"That was where he was born," Bruce explained, and then his lip twisted. "Again. Ish. He likes the heat. I remember that, kind of. It's why I usually found hot climates to hide in. It kept him calmer."

"That must be weird," Tony said, punching the elevator button. "Two sets of memories."

"Not really two... it's..." Bruce struggled with how best to explain it. And then he found it. "Hey, can you speed-read?"

"Yeah, of course. Taught myself when I was around nine or so."

"Right, of course you did." Bruce shook his head. "Forgot who I was speaking to. Well, when you were learning, remember how hard it was to stop sub-vocalising everything? Like your brain was reading the story to you at speaking speed inside your head?"

"Hells yes. I had to time myself with a stopwatch to get out of the habit."

"That's sort of what it was like. Hulk and I, I mean. One set of memories, but one of us is reduced to a sub-vocalisation."

"Huh. But not quite?"

Bruce smiled to himself. "No, not quite."

The elevator dinged and they piled in. Tony didn't take his arm from around Bruce's shoulders as he leaned over and punched the button for the communal floor. "And you're okay with going back to that?"

"I... I'm honestly not sure. We're incomplete as we are, but the way we were isn't much better." Bruce looked down at his hands and at the considerable dent in the elevator's brushed metal floor. "Hulk feels the same way about it."

"So you've talked about having him back in your head?"

"Yes. I think I could do better by him this time around. Give him time to drive our body, to do the things he likes to do." Bruce shifted, his feet appearing ludicrously small in the footprints left by Hulk in the metal. "We'd need to figure out a way to communicate..."

"Video," Tony said immediately.

"That's what I suggested," Bruce agreed. "Maybe some of those meditation techniques I picked up could help as well. Not for calming him down, or me... but maybe in order to... talk?"

"Meditation - in science?" Tony said sceptically. "I am starting to wonder about you, Brucey-babes."

"I know, I know," he said, and squeezed his eyes shut. "Don't let it get out, I actually care about what's left of my professional reputation."

"Oh, fishing for compliments now," Tony song-songed. "Besides, you get naked on an alarmingly regular basis, whatever reputation you had has quickly done a swan-dive into the realms of the sordid."

"I'm in good company then," Bruce retorted.

"Oooh snap, Sassybaskets."

"I think you need to eat, your pet names for me are getting weirder." Bruce led the way out of the elevator as it dinged open, and promptly collided with Steve's broad back. "Uh... sorry, sorry!"

Steve, of course, hadn't moved an inch at the collision - because that notorious missing ingredient from Erskine's formula had apparently been Essence of Brick Wall. "Oh, hey Doc... um. Bruce," he said absently. "What were you saying?"

This last was to Natasha, who was seated on the counter with a sandwich in her hand. Clint lounged beside her, his mouth bulging. "A trace. It's a decoy," she said, taking another bite. "The boffins will collect it and take it back to the Helicarrier. I've put in my recommendation that the Doc here gets a look at it."

"A look at what?" Bruce slipped out from under Tony's arm – strange that it had stayed there so very long – and gave the two spies a puzzled look.

"Sterns isn't in Chicago," Clint said through a mouthful of sandwich. "Dunno where he is."

"Oh, that's attractive," Tony muttered.

Clint grinned at him, teeth covered in bread and ham.

"Child," Natasha said under her breath. Then she turned to Bruce again. "Thanks for the teleport."

"No problem. You didn't find him?"

Her flawless face was expressionless as she answered, "Sterns was using an old bolthole of Osborne's to hide a gamma tracer – a decoy."

"You know it's emitting radiation?" Bruce asked immediately.

"The boffins seemed pretty sure," she shrugged. "I can't tell from what we saw – but it was green. Bright green."

Bruce swore. "So where has Sterns got to?"

"Fuck if we know," Clint said cheerily.

"We need you back at the Helicarrier for this, Bruce," Natasha said seriously. "SHIELD needs your expertise. We need you to check out this decoy, and to create another tracking algorithm..."

"To find Sterns," Bruce finished. "He won't emit as much radiation as I did... as Hulk does. He wasn't directly exposed to the gamma bomb. If you're right and he's been affected by my blood, it'll be very diluted. He's likely to give off an even weaker signal than the tesseract did."

She spread her hands. "That's why we need you. Again."

"Help me, Obi-Wan Kenobi," Tony murmured in his ear, and sniggered. Bruce ignored him.

"I spoke to Hill this morning," Steve put in, his brow furrowed and his heavy arms folded. "She wanted an update on Hulk's situation. Is this related, do you think?"

"Only peripherally," Tony said after a moment's consideration."Not all gamma mutants are created equal, etcetera."

Bruce stiffened. "What did you say?"

Steve gave him that famous reassuring smile. "Good things. That the Hulk has been following rules, and that the two of you have been working together. He's learning very quickly, but that he gets confused sometimes. That you had a rocky start, but you're on the same page now, more or less. That most of the team has now been in close proximity to Hulk and sustained no damage, and that..."

"Uh, might wanna update that to all of the team, actually," Tony put in.

"Thor?" Steve blinked. Of all the team, he was most aware of Hulk's dislike of the Asgardian as it was Steve's role to strategise their positions and roles accordingly when in the field. "And that went okay?"

"It was awesome," Tony said dreamily.

"They sparred," Bruce said, and cringed.

"Sparred?!" Steve's eyes boggled.

Clint spat a mouthful of crumbs everywhere and stared at them. "Oh my god tell me there is footage because if there is not I will infiltrate your room and shove an arrow-"

"Relax, Merida, I got it." Tony grinned at Clint's worshipful face.

"Is Thor okay?" Steve demanded, worry immediately hardening his tone. "That was so, so irresponsible, Tony! I wasn't here – Clint wasn't here, the tranq arrows, what would have happened if the Hulk had lost himself in one of his berserker rages?"

"I'm not exactly small fry myself, Cap," Tony retorted hotly, "and Bruce was here, which means that Hulk is totally on board and under control. We're gonna go get him for lunch, what do you say? Let him out again?"

"I need to see Thor," Steve grated. "I need to – Hulk has no measurable upper limit of strength, and he hates Thor, Tony, he might be really injured-"

"He's fine, I had both JARVIS and Bruce check him over," Tony said, rolling his eyes. "Thor wants a rematch. They both had the time of their lives."

"Who won?" Natasha asked, a hint of professional curiosity in her voice.

"Hulk," Tony said, and dissolved into laughter.

"This just proves my point," Steve fumed, his hands diving into his hair. "Hulk could have really-"

"Sorry there, hate to stop your worry-warting, Team Dad, but what can hurt Thor?" Tony challenged. "Apart from mystical magical Asgardian doohickies?"

Steve folded his arms. "Hulk could. How did he win? Thor could be badly hurt..."

"He sat on him," Bruce interrupted.

Natasha actually choked. Clint fell over, howling with laughter.

"Thor needed the workout, he's been tense as a cat lately, what with all the politics at home and the magical mystical thinking with portals shit," Tony added. "Seriously, Cap. Thor's nearly as indestructible as the green guy. He totally held his own. He loved it!"

"Loved it," Steve said, his face and voice flat with anger and worry. "Loved fighting the... Tony, I just know you were behind this, and I can't believe you could be so..."

"It was my idea," Bruce interrupted again.

Steve fell silent, his mouth parted in shock.

"He followed his Rules?" Natasha prompted.

"Yes," Bruce said and rubbed the back of his neck, fighting another grin. "He has a new one I think you'll appreciate."

Her head cocked. "Oh?"

"Hulk doesn't always get what he wants."

She hid a smile behind her hand. "Oh, I'm sure that went over well."

"About as well as you'd expect," Bruce smiled back wryly.

"You wanna get him up here for lunch?" Clint waved with the hand holding the sandwich. "Hells yes, let's get Thor in on this too. We'll make it a team thing."

Steve shook his head in despair. "I wash my hands of you," he said heavily. "You're all completely unhinged."

Bruce shared a look with Tony. "So, Squirrel, do you think he's ready for the whole team at once?"

"Moosey-babes," Tony clapped an arm around his shoulders yet again. "Let's find out."

Hulk

Hulk is boooooooooored.

Bored, bored, bored.

Hulk sleeps for a little while after the not-smash smashing with Shouty Long Hair. He wakes, and then he smashes at his rocks. He feels good. The rocks are good. Hulk smashes one and it turns into the shape of a kitty.

Hulk will give it to Bruce. That will be good. Hulk has not given presents before, but Hulk knows Bruce likes them.

Hulk is hungry.

And bored.

The door makes the beep-bop-beeps and opens and Bruce enters. Hulk is pleased. Hulk will give Bruce the rock that looks like a kitty.

"Bruce," Hulk says, and leaps for him. Bruce laughs and is lifted into Hulk's arms. He is small. Smashable. Careful, careful.

"Hello, bright eyes," says Tony, walking in behind Bruce. "You're full of beans after your nap, aren't you?"

Hulk frowns. "Hulk not full. Hulk hungry!"

Bruce pats Hulk's face. Hulk's face is scratchy. There is hair, and Hulk cannot scrape it off like Bruce does. "We were just coming to get you. Would you like to go upstairs for lunch?"

Twice? Hulk can be free twice? "Yes!"

"The whole team will be there," Bruce warns. "You'll have to remember your Rules. If I say stop..."

"Hulk stops," Hulk says obediently. Then Hulk grunts. "Hulk always follow Rules!"

"And I'm very, very proud of you," Bruce says softly. He pats Hulk's face again. "All right, we'll try it. I guess you don't feel like trying the elevator again."

No! "No stupid moving room!"

"Stairs it is," Bruce shakes his head and looks back at Tony. "We'll be along in a little bit."

Tony is grinning at them. There is a shiny, soft look in his eyes. Hulk likes that look. He likes that it gets softer when he looks at them. "Talk about your low-tech versus high-tech," he says. "You do realise that part of you is a total Luddite."

"And the other part is me," Bruce says back, and they grin at each other some more. "Go on, help the others get the food set up. I'll try to convince him not to jump straight through your stairs."

"Doesn't matter if he does - free-standing, non-twist enclosed stairwell chamber with separate load-bearing structures, it can withstand a direct blow from an A380," Tony says. Too fast. Hulk does not understand. He growls a little and shifts, and Bruce's hand stills on Hulk's face. His palm is warm and small and comforting. Bruce smells right.

Tony leaves in the rattly stupid moving room (Hulk hates stupid moving room!) and Bruce shows Hulk a new door. It is small, and Hulk smashes the frame when he tries to squeeze through.

Whoops.

"It's okay," Bruce says, and laughs a little under his breath when Hulk tries to fix. He shoves the frame against the wall, but it does not stay. It does not stay. More of the wall comes off in Hulk's hands, and he drops the pieces. He feels not good. It is not good.

"Sorry, sorry," Hulk says, and growls again. Everything is too small, everything is too smashable.

"Hey now, leave it, it's all right," Bruce says. "I said it was okay. Rule Two?"

"Mistake," Hulk says, and nods his head. "Hulk say sorry. Rule Tree. See? Hulk always follow Rules!"

"So you do," Bruce says, and takes Hulk's hand. His little fingers curl around Hulk's finger. "These are the stairs. We need to go up a long way, but we can't jump or we'll smash too much. Can you do that?"

Hulk looks up. It goes up and up and up. "Hulk can do that," he says and puffs his chest out. Hulk can do anything!

Bruce leads Hulk up and up. It goes around in circles and up and around and up and around and up, until Hulk has lots of circles and up in his head and they make him dizzy. Bruce is getting tired, because Bruce is weak and Hulk made him weak. Hulk lifts him into his arms again, and Bruce sighs.

"You make me feel like a little kid or a doll when you do this."

Hulk snorts. "Bruce puny. Needs Hulk to do work."

Hulk keeps going up and around, and the circles and the up fill his head. But his experiment is still there in his head, underneath the up, spinning like the circles, Hulk's special experiment. Bruce does not know – Tony does not know – no one but Hulk knows. The whole team will be there, and Hulk can do his experiment some more.

They will not be alone.

Hulk's feet are too big for stupid stairs. They crumble underneath him in places, and Bruce rubs tiredly at his forehead and says that Tony will love that. Hulk is pleased. Hulk likes making Tony happy.

"Not long now," Bruce says as Hulk makes yet another circle and another up. Hulk is tired of stupid stairs. Maybe the whirring rattly moving room is better?

No! Stupid moving room leaves Hulk's stomach behind! Stupid moving room.

"Here," Bruce says, and slips out of Hulk's arms. That is not good either. Not good. Hulk likes him there. He is small and warm. He smells right. "Just for a moment," Bruce says when Hulk rumbles and reaches for him. "You can have your teddy bear back in a minute, I'm just getting the door."

Hulk reaches out and takes the door.

"Oh," says Bruce, and rubs his eyes. "Well. I suppose that's one way to do it."

Hulk squeezed through the little gap, and puts the door against the wall. "Bruce say take the door," he points out. "Hulk takes the door."

"I did," Bruce says, regarding the damage to the frame from between his fingers. "I need to watch what I say, obviously."

"Tony."

"Hmm?"

"Tony should watch what Tony say." Hulk shifts and his feet dig into the new floor. It is smooth and shiny. It looks familiar. "Tony use bad words."

Bruce's eyebrows almost meet his hair, they go up so high. "Ah," he says faintly. "Well. You... Oh, of course, I suppose you remember getting in trouble, don't you?"

Hulk nods emphatically. "Aunt angry. Teacher angry. Everyone angry."

"No swearing, got it," Bruce says and laughs even as he shakes his head. "All right. We'll tell Tony to watch his language – actually, you know what? You can tell him. I'm staying out of this one."

Hulk nods. Hulk can do that, too. "Where Team?"

"This way." Bruce points to a long room with lots of doors that go off the sides. Hulk can fit through that with no smash. He picks Bruce up again. Bruce makes a strangled little noise, and then sighs, relaxing back into Hulk's arms. "I wasn't really using my dignity for anything important, I suppose."

Hulk holds him closer as he walks down the long, long room. "Bruce's thoughts," he says, and snarls a little, trying to think of the best good way to say. "Hold Bruce, hold Bruce's thoughts. Fizz and zip and snap and sparkle. Hulk thinks better with Banner."

Bruce twists a little to look up at him. His mouth is open in a dark, round circle – everything is circles, everything is circles today. "You... can hear my thoughts when we touch?"

Hulk shakes his head and his snarl gets louder. Better. It does not echo in the long, long room like it does in Hulk's shiny metal room. "Hulk not see thoughts. Hulk not hear thoughts. Just feel." Hulk's hand presses – gentle, careful, Bruce is smashable – against Bruce's chest. "Zip, zing. Easier with Banner."

Bruce slumps back, his face full of the thinking.

"What was that? Did Hulk just snarl?" says the voice of Star Man, sounding hard and sharp. Like when Bruce lets Hulk out to smash the bad things. Hulk tenses. There are bad things here? Bad men that Hulk needs to smash?

"It's okay, he's fine Steve," says Bruce. "Shh. Calm down. It's okay."

Hulk is disappointed. Hulk wanted to smash the bad things.

The long, long room finishes and there is another room at the end. It has a window which is open, and Hulk can feel the wind on his face. The window is big with a little floor just past it surrounded by fence, and Hulk can see all the buildings, so many of the little puny humans scurrying away like ants far below. The buildings stand like mountains, and the sun shines over them. Hulk missed the sun.

He stands in the sun, and it is warm, and Hulk feels free.

Bruce is small and warm and puts his hand on Hulk's face again. He does that a lot. Hulk likes it. It is good. "Hulk? Are you still hungry?"

"Sun," Hulk says, and rumbles deep in his chest. He closes his eyes. It is so warm.

"Poor thing," says Tony. "I remember feeling the sun after... well, it was nice for the first five minutes. Then it sucked, and I got mega-sunburnt."

"God it feels weird to have him up here," says Shooty Bird. "Is it me, or does everything become background to the Hulk?"

"Not just you," says Star Man, looking up at Hulk with big, wary eyes.

"Isn't he hungry?" says Shooty Bird.

"Give him a moment," says Bruce quietly. "He hasn't seen the sky for a week and a half."

"Aye, no wonder he stands and breathes so," says Shouty Long Hair.

Hulk opens his eyes again and looks out at the sky, blue and blue as far as Hulk can see. The land, the buildings... they are not right. They should be wide open spaces for Hulk to jump and smash and roar. But this is good for now. For now.

Team is all around them. Tony is looking at Hulk, but the rest of the Team looks at Bruce. Bruce is looking at Hulk too.

"Are you all right?" Bruce asks, and his little hand strokes through Hulk's hair. Warm, warm and safe. Hulk rumbles again, and cradles Bruce's head gently in his hand. It is the best Hulk can do. Hulk cannot touch Bruce's hair like Bruce touches Hulk's. Hulk's hands are too big. That is not good.

There is a smell. It is very good.

"Food?" Hulk asks, and Bruce looks up at him and smiles.

"Yes, that's right. You can eat with everyone."

"Hulk not eat Team!"

"Well, that's... good to know," says Shooty Bird. Tasha and Star Man both roll their eyes.

"That's not what he meant, Hulk," says Tasha gently.

"With everyone," Bruce stresses.

"Got you shawarma, Big and Tall," says Tony, leaning forward and tugging at Hulk's elbow. Hulk lets himself be led. It feels silly, because Tony is puny, but Tony is special, so Hulk lets him. "You're gonna love this, it's team tradition, I can't believe you've been missing out all this time."

Hulk remembers quiet, tired, Team sitting and eating with heavy limbs and closing eyes and dirty faces. "Hulk remembers."

"Orrrrrr not, as the case may be," Tony says, and pulls at the hair on his face. "Damn, I never know what the fuck he remembers or not."

"Welcome to my world," Bruce says.

"Language," Hulk says.

Tony looks startled. "Did the Hulk just..."

"Apparently he can remember a particular incident which landed me in detention for a week," Bruce says.

"Huh. Hulk just got all Mary Poppins at me."

"And thank you for that mental image, Stark. Hulk floating around with an umbrella." Shooty Bird shakes his head.

"Add the costume and the hat. Then it's a riot," Tony adds.

"We made a spot for you here, Hulk," says Tasha, her face blank as blank, hiding like always, but her eyes glittering like stars. She looks for how Hulk moves, where he puts his feet. She watches and watches. No stink of fear. She is not scared. Good.

Shooty Bird also watches, but he does not watch because he wants to. Shooty Bird watches because that is what he is. Like Bruce is always sad, and Hulk is always angry, Shooty Bird always watches.

Star Man smells like worry, and Hulk doesn't like it. Hulk sniffs at Star Man as Hulk sits in the spot Tasha shows him. Star Man has been in the sky ship. Hulk hates the stupid sky ship.

Hulk puts Bruce down, and he steadies himself using Hulk's shoulder. Shouty Long Hair claps Hulk on the back. "You are most solicitous of our good Doctor, my friend," he says in that deep voice of his. "I am impressed. I would not have believed that the hands that delivered to me such a defeat could be so gentle."

"It wasn't his hands that delivered the defeat," says Bruce, dry as old dust, and Tony immediately begins to laugh. Shouty Long Hair laughs too. He does not have the angry or the shame in his laugh. He laughs loudest and longest, bright and free. He does not seem annoyed that Hulk won.

Huh. Maybe Shouty Long Hair is okay.

Hulk claps Shouty Long Hair on the back too, to show him that Hulk is being friends now. Shouty Long Hair flies out the big, big window.

Whoops again.

"Wait, wait!" Bruce says as Star Man begins to stand, his eyes huge and his mouth open. Shouty Long Hair's (annoying!) hammer shakes and trembles and zips off after him. "Thor can fly, he's fine – he thought he was being friends now. Hulk, I know Thor's almost as strong as you – but you've still got a size advantage and when you do something like that, you're going to have to be gentle."

Hulk is sorry. He says so. "Hulk sorry."

"Odin's blood, what a blow!" says Shouty Long Hair, laughing some more as he lands with a thud on the little bit of floor that sticks out past the big, big window. He walks back in and puts the (annoying!) hammer down with a boom. "You are indeed a worthy opponent, Hulk. Would that every sparring partner were such a challenge."

"Did you just indirectly diss my armour, Fabio?" Tony says, eyes narrow.

"And that's quite enough of that," Bruce says, pinching his nose. Hulk copies him.

"Enough," he repeats. Tony laughs again, and Shooty Bird's drink comes out of his nose.

The food is good. It is lots of little packages filled with good things. Hulk can eat them in one bite. They are good, and Hulk eats lots and lots of them. Bruce eats two (one and a bit, but he couldn't finish it and so Hulk ate it for him). Star Man and Shouty Long Hair eat lots and lots of them too. Not as many as Hulk. Hulk wins again!

"He's not as messy as I thought he would be," says Tasha, looking at Hulk, her head tilted on the side. Her hair is bright and shiny and Hulk likes it. Red, red, red, red, red, red, red. Red is bright and happy and angry and blood and love and alive. Red is dust against Hulk's green skin. Red is warm.

"He eats these without having to take a bite. It's when chewing is involved that we end up with a mess," Bruce says, and takes a sip of the hot drink he likes. Hulk remembers that, too – there was the drink in the hot places with milk and spices, and then in the other hot places where people lived in shacks that crumbled, and in the other hot places where Bruce worked and worked and worked at pretending to be not-Bruce, and in the other hot places where Hulk woke up in his own skin for the first time. Hulk will not take the hot drink from Bruce – Hulk has milk, and it is better anyway.

"Hey Hulk? Check it out," says Shooty Bird, and he jerks his head over to a place in the room where Hulk's painting is. Hulk jerks.

"Hulk's?"

"Yep, on the fridge, just like I promised." Shooty Bird looks pleased. "They all are, see?"

Hulk sees. Yes. There is Hulk's, and Hulk's painting is best. Tony's is there, all flash and roar and fire. Star Man's is full of tiny little places and people and colours, and Shooty Bird's is like an explosion. Bruce's is there, too. It is the best next to Hulk's.

"Hulk's is best," Hulk says, and thumps his chest. Star Man's head whips up, and he grins.

"Sure is, big fella," he says. Then he looks at Tony and Bruce. "All right. I believe you. I'm sorry."

"It's fine, Cap," Bruce says and his hand creeps over Hulk's arm. Small. But warm, warm, warm. Hulk looks down at it, and they are the same, their hands. Same like Hulk's. "You worry, we know."

"Star Man worry," Hulk says, and frowns down at him. "Star Man should not worry. Hulk protect Bruce. Hulk protect Tony. Hulk protect Team."

"Tell me we got that, JARVIS?" Tony whispers.

"The statement has been recorded." Hulk twitches. The no-body voice always surprises Hulk.

"Send it to Nick Fury pronto." Tony pauses. "Message to read as follows: Hey there, Dread Pirate Roberts, I thought you should get an update on Hulk from the horse's mouth, rather than the horse's ass. Love Tony. Usual signature, but end it with a big kiss."

The no-body voice sighs. "Yes, Sir."

"Horse's ass?" Star Man says darkly, his eyebrow going up. Tony shrugs and grins.

"Apology now accepted, Cap."

Star Man splutters, but Hulk can tell. This is all just fun. Fun, like Hulk smashing with Shouty Long Hair. This is how Star Man and Tony smash. They both like it. It is fun.

"Fun," Hulk says aloud. Bruce looks up at him, and his smile is in his eyes. Tony is right. Bruce always has sad brown eyes. But they are not sad now, and that is better.

"That's right."

"He's more perceptive than we thought," Tasha murmurs.

"He's more of everything than we thought," says Bruce, and this close Hulk can feel the guilty-hot feeling. Bruce should not feel guilty-hot. They have said sorry. Rule Tree.

"All over. Good now," Hulk says, and Bruce nods.

"Good now," he repeats.

Hulk finishes his food-things. The warm light spills over him and the Team. They are all together. Hulk looks around at them, laughing and having... fun.

The experiment is working.

Watch Moose pull a rabbit out of his hat.

Squirrel says, that trick never works!

Hey presto! It's... a review!

*cue theme music*

(Moose and Squirrel brought to you by Eighties References Inc.)