A/N: It has been a long time, my friends. (Two years! I'm the worst.)
But the good news is I've officially graduated with both my bachelor's degrees and am now back in the real world job hunting while taking a break before grad school, so I hope to return to the kind of prolific writing and posting schedule I had before I went back to college.
This chapter is nice and long, and a new POV, so hopefully it's worth the wait. Thank you to everyone who commented and favorited while I was gone 3
Oh! And the first bit rehashes the last chapter, but from Bruce's POV.
~x~
it'd be a shame to stop now that i've started to make really good mistakes
(In which a war is won, a few revelations are made, and the bad guys make a poor life choice.)
~x~
Bruce doesn't look at the elevator when it opens, hearing only the echoes of Hulk's roar as he forces his jaw to relax and breathes in and out. The anger that keeps him safe, keeps him human, is roiling out of control, tainted with fear and bitter hate.
General Ross evokes more emotion, and far more loathing, than the monster beneath his skin.
The Hulk rumbles agreement and Bruce almost smiles. Then Tony's voice raises and Bruce closes his eyes as the Hulk's rumble grows louder. They both hate the General, and it is far harder to control the Hulk when he agrees with him wholeheartedly. Someone touches his hands and the pressure inside grows almost to the breaking point. When his eyes open, his vision is tinged with green and the rumble is growing to a roar.
Liz is standing in front of him, giving him a soft smile as her fingers squeeze his and he slumps in on himself, the Hulk quieting at the memory of her warm eyes and her soothing power.
"Is he your special unit?" she asks him, her voice lighter than the expression in her eyes, and he nods. He should have shaken his head; she did not bring her tormentors on herself, and his loathing for the General will never hold a candle to the blame he places on himself.
The Hulk is not his only demon, it is simply the most visible.
"General Ross, this is Captain Rogers; I understand you have a concern about one of the members of my team." Bruce's gaze snaps from Liz to Steve, the man with no inner monsters for the serum to unleash.
The general is visible on a hovering screen and Bruce's heart races for the second it takes to realize that the man cannot see him as well. "That man is a monster, and he is to be turned over to my custody immediately," the General orders and Bruce fights a flinch, grateful for the touch of Liz's skin keeping him grounded within his.
Steve was kind to him, trusted him to fight with them even after his performance on the helicarrier. But Steve is a soldier, even if his track record makes it clear that he's not always an obedient one, and Bruce doesn't know how he'll react to the General's demands.
"And who are you referring to?" Steve's words send a heady jolt of relief into his system, nearly as dangerous as the fear and anger in its effect on his control. "Stark's suit can hardly be called monstrous, and referring to Thor that way would probably set off an unfortunate diplomatic incident." The combination of Steve's dry tone and the General's growing fury almost elicits an inappropriate laugh from Bruce, and the Hulk's rumble has taken on a tinge of approval for the Captain. "Unless you're referring to Dr. Banner and myself, who were both subjected to versions of the same serum. At the behest of the military I might add."
Bruce does flinch at that, amusement shifting into something far more bitter as the General's next words echo his own thoughts. "You cannot compare yourself to that thing."
Steve seems to disagree with both of them, and stares the General down without even a hint of give. "Bruce," the Captain says with the kind of tone that commands armies. "Is a civilian and a hero who was asked by our government to assist with the recent attack. I, my team, and the city of New York are all deeply grateful for that help, given that none of us might be standing today if he had refused out of justifiable fear of and anger toward your continued persecution."
The General is pale and Bruce has a feeling that he's even paler, breathing suddenly difficult through the complicated tangle of gratitude, disbelief, envy, and wonder, he feels for the man defending him.
Steve isn't done, and he steps closer to the screen, every bit of strength that makes him who he is blazing from his eyes as Ross flinches imperceptibly. "You will cease that persecution, immediately, or you will bear witness to what happens when the rest of us get angry."
The screen disappears before the General can reply and Bruce wonders if he's dreaming for a brief moment, then feels Liz squeeze his hands again and lets out a shaky breath. Dizzy with relief, he's struck with the sudden desire to make her laugh and smiles at her before turning his gaze back to Steve. "Marry me?"
There is a moment of silence, warmer than the last, before Tony lets out a bark of laughter and Liz starts giggling. Her hands are over her mouth and her dancing eyes are calming the last of his rage and terror into the normal dull simmer of red-green anger.
Liz collapses into the chair next to him, still giggling, and Steve smiles at him, a hint of a flush staining his cheeks but his blue eyes clear and bright. "I'm sorry, Bruce, but I have to say no. It might be a little old fashioned, but I think two people should know each other better before they agree to spend the rest of their lives together."
"That is… not how I thought you were going to finish that sentence!" Tony says with a manic grin. Bruce feels a little shred of guilt that he'd also been a little afraid of what the Captain might say, once the surge of emotions that had prompted his words had begun to fade.
"Also, it's way too late for second thoughts now, Cap. After that stunt you are definitely stuck with us, and the Avengers do not allow take-backsies," Tony adds.
"Is that so?" Steve asks, lips curving upwards into a faint smile.
"Yup!" Tony says, popping the p sound with the same manic enthusiasm. "Liz and Pepper came up with this whole rules bullshit, so I'm adding my own: no one gets to quit the Avengers."
"Even you?" Steve asks, the expression on his face more reminiscent of the Captain than Steve.
Tony hesitates for the barest of seconds, only apparent if you're aware of how lightning fast his brain and mouth are, and then nods sharply. "Even me."
"I think it's time we start putting these rules into writing," Pepper says into the ensuing silence, a warm and wry smile gracing her face. She takes a step forward and offers a hand to Steve. "Captain Rogers, it's lovely to finally meet you."
"You too, ma'am; I've heard you're Tony's better half," Steve says, taking her hand for a firm shake. The barest hint of slyness in his tone makes Bruce grin as he glances at Tony, the other man clearly not sure if he wants to scowl or laugh as he moves to stand next to Pepper.
Bruce doesn't wait for his reaction, or listen to the rest of their introduction. Instead he stares down at Liz, whose shoulders are still shaking with amusement. "Thank you," he says quietly.
She looks up at him, lips curved into a brilliant smile. "For what? This was all Steve, proving once again why he was the world's first super hero."
"You brought him here," Bruce points out. "And you kept me calm. Again. I don't think the other guy knows how to feel about you."
Liz grins. "As long as he doesn't feel I'm smashable, I'm happy. Also, you kept you calm. But," she adds, before he can voice his protest, reaching one hand up to hold both of his as her tone shifts into something sincere and serious. "I will always be glad to help."
Bruce turns his hands palms up, so he can cup her hand in his. Memories of her in his head, a bright and calm anchor pulling him back into himself, have invaded his waking and sleeping moments ever since. As have the hints of admiration and attraction in her thoughts and subsequent actions. He can't help but feel that those emotions should be directed at the Captain, who like her and unlike the rest of them, has no red in his ledger. The man who did not have any inner ugliness for the serum to find and expose to the world.
It is far too late for his own admiration and attraction to fade, even if he has not yet decided whether to act on those feelings or bury them. "I will always be glad of that help," is what he says, other words tucked into corners of his brain to be pulled out for later contemplation.
Her answering smile is warm and has entirely too much affect on him, as does the continued physical contact when she uses his grasp on her hand to pull herself to her feet. "Just don't forget Tony's new rule," she tells him, giving his hands one last squeeze before letting go.
It takes him a moment to push past the urge to take her hand again and process her words. When he does, it takes him another moment before he nods slowly. "I will do my best. But I can't, won't, promise."
Her lips curve down into a sadder smile, but she nods as well. "I understand and respect that. I also intend to do everything in my power to change your mind."
He can't help his answering smile, his lips quirking upwards with a hint of mischief as some less than innocent thoughts cross his mind. It has been far too long since it was safe for him to indulge in certain feelings and activities, and Liz Parker, alien magnet and new personal hero, is the first person he's believed might be capable of finding a way around the other guy. "I look forward to seeing what that involves."
She grins at him, eyes twinkling with more than a hint of mischief of her own, and then suddenly they're interrupted by Tony clapping them both on the shoulder and manhandling them toward the others in the room. "Come on, boys, girls, and any other gender identifying individuals! It's time for some celebratory champagne over another asshat's demise. This time I'm not letting it go until General Ross is demoted to digging latrines."
Bruce sighs, despite the undeniably pleasant image of the General covered in shit. "I don't think that's a good idea, Tony."
"Well I do," Tony says, a hint of sharpness to his tone in contrast to the gentleness of the hand that he hasn't removed from Bruce's shoulder. "The world needs to know that fucking with one of the Avengers is a bad idea. We're here to protect them, and we will not be persecuted by narrow minded bigots in the pursuit of their own power."
"He's right," Steve says, an unexpected voice for the second time that afternoon. "At least in theory if not in the details," he adds with a dry smile at Tony, who wrinkles his nose but doesn't speak, clearly curious as to what the Captain has to say in his support. "I almost ended up in a lab after the serum was destroyed, and even after I made it into the war there were those who would have rather dissected and duplicated me than have me fighting Nazis. We need to be out here, able to fight and help, or there's no point to us having these abilities at all."
"Well said, Captain," Pepper says, stepping into the conversation with effortless poise. "As for the General, we have plenty of legal avenues to pursue regarding his inappropriate behavior and illegal actions that can destroy him without Tony ever needing to get creative."
"Aw, Pep, but I'm so good at being creative."
Bruce chuckles and hears Liz snort as Pepper and Steve give Tony identical looks of mild exasperation.
"I am well aware of your creativity, Tony," Pepper says in a repressive tone, a graceful wave of her hand cutting off the presumably filthy thing Tony would have said in response. "And I think it can be put to far better use than ridding the world of one useless, pathetic excuse of a human being."
"Hear, hear," Liz says with a bright grin. "I still want to see those plans for a theme park you've been hiding from Pepper."
"You know, I didn't have you sign any contracts like those untrustworthy government types, but I thought it was understood that my secrets were to be kept, you know, secret," Tony says accusingly, shaking his finger at the brunette who is still grinning at him.
"You can't fire me. She's the boss, remember?"
"I'm still your landlord. How do you feel about sleeping on a park bench?" Tony asks, his tone far less sharp than his words.
"About as well as you feel about sleeping on the couch," Pepper says sweetly, before Liz can respond, and this time Steve joins Bruce and Liz in laughing at the expression on Tony's face.
"If this is the sort of entertainment involved, I may just have to accept your offer of room and board, Ms. Potts," the Captain says, and Tony redirects instantly.
"You can call her, Pepper, you know. And I think we just clarified that I'm the landlord around here."
"And I believe that she just clarified that she can dictate both what she's called, and where people sleep around here," Steve retorts with clear good humor, the tension that had characterized his and Tony's interactions on the helicarrier lacking from his body language and tone.
"You know, you are far more sassy that I anticipated, Mr. Rogers," Tony says in response, only the barest hint of edge to his tone and posture. "I thought you were supposed to be stodgy and patriotic with an American flag up your ass."
Bruce winces, hoping they're not going to be revisiting the strained moments that led to him losing control for the first time in years. Luckily for his wellbeing and the condition of the already damaged tower, Steve remains calm. Although Bruce has a feeling that calm is backed by less genuine relaxation than it was a moment ago.
"I do so hate not living up to expectations," the Captain says, a flicker in his blue eyes that makes Bruce smile in grim amusement. It is good to remember that the man has his own darkness, even if it is far less visible than Bruce's.
"More sass," Tony says, pointing at the other man. The edge has bled out of his voice and he is watching Steve with the same careful consideration he gives the machines and holograms in his lab. "But point taken." He spins and marches toward the kitchen. "Now, about that champagne!"
Bruce exchanges a commiserating smile with the Captain, and then lets Liz tug him toward the couches in the living room where she'd told them of her darkness. He knows Liz isn't the only one who is conspiring to keep him here, and he also knows that his ability to resist them is going to weaken with every step this amazing group of people takes toward becoming a real team.
What he doesn't know is how much he'll come to regret staying at all, and if those regrets will be outweighed by the peace he manages to find here.
Or if he even deserves to find that peace.
Tony has just handed out the last glass of champagne—because, in his own words, flutes are entirely too snobbish and small—and a glass of sparking grape juice for Liz, when a dark-skinned man in an air force uniform steps out the elevator. He has an unimpressed look on his face and is directing an intimidating glare at Tony, whose face has lit up at the sight of him.
"Darling! Sugar bear! Sexiest airman alive! Where have you been?"
"Fighting the non-intergalactic enemies of this country," the man says dryly, then shakes a finger at Tony. "You promised to call me."
Tony shrugs, grinning brightly as he steps forward and tries to hand the man his glass only to have it batted away. "Oh come on, honey bee, you already did the pat me down and make sure I'm alive thing after the battle. I'm fine. I think you're just still pouting because you missed all the fun."
"You've moved a bunch of superheroes into your half-blown up Tower, several of whom are wanted by various governmental entities in other countries and the U.S., you still haven't seen a medical professional, and your chest isn't glowing. You should have called me."
Steve, Ava, and Darcy, are staring in fascination. Liz has her hands over her mouth and is holding in laughter, and Pepper looks similarly, if more elegantly, amused. Bruce is impressed. Whoever this man is, his words have actually made Tony's shoulders drop a bit, and a half defiant, half pleading expression appear on his face.
"First of all, governmental entities are notoriously bad at being okay with people who are more powerful and competent than they are and I'm not, so don't you go dissing my new roommates. Second and third, I haven't seen a medical professional because thanks to the brilliance of inviting said superheroes to live with me, I now have an in-house, alien powered badass who is far more effective and less obnoxious than every doctor you've made me see."
The man's face has softened slightly and he reaches forward and lightly touches Tony chest, an intimacy that Bruce hadn't thought anyone other than Pepper was allowed. "You're okay?"
Tony nods, his expression gentler than most people ever see, although his smirk is more than a little smug. "I'm better than okay. I'm awesome."
The man nods sharply, his hand still on Tony's chest as if he's trying to reassure himself that there's still a heart beating in there. There's a moments pause, the two men staring at each other with a weight of history that no one in the room, other than possibly Pepper, is aware of, before the man finally drops his hand. "So, introduce me to your new favorite people already."
Tony's grin widens to its usually dazzling proportions. "Don't worry, gumdrop, you're still my favorite too." The man snorts, but doesn't reply and Tony turns to include the entire room in his gaze. "Everyone, this is Rhodey, the bestest best friend a genius could ask for; Rhodey, this is everyone."
"That is such a helpful and detailed introduction," Rhodey deadpans and Bruce smiles. He thinks he's going to like Tony's best friend.
He's not wrong.
Rhodey proves to be intelligent, full of dry wit, and more than capable of keeping up with Tony and the other strong personalities in the Tower. He stays for two days before leaving on assignment again, and it takes another full week in the lab with Bruce, Jane, and Liz, before Tony's smirks regain their usual vibrance.
Life in the Tower settles into a routine, if one that anyone outside the Tower would consider dysfunctional at best and terrifying at worst.
Days (and some nights) are spent in his, Tony's, or Jane's lab, sometimes alone, but usually with at least Liz if not one or both of the other scientists for company. Pepper is off running one of the largest companies in the world, appearing rarely to drag Tony to meetings or get him to sign paperwork. More and more frequently it is Ava whom she sends to coerce Tony into compliance, and the blonde's glares and occasional telekinetic displays are quite effective.
Natasha and Clint show up for dinner two weeks later, carrying a few bags and accompanied by Coulson. Tony is clearly all set to rag on them for finally accepting his invitation to live there, when he's distracted by the fact that Clint and Agent Coulson are holding hands.
Clint smirks and Coulson's bland smile never twitches. Tony spends the rest of the night making jokes about cellists, James Bond, and SHIELD's dating and relationship policy, until Natasha clears her throat while wielding cutlery and suddenly other conversational topics are found.
It is also Tony, in a fit of frustration at being wrangled to yet another shareholders meeting, who waits until a rare everyone is present breakfast to ask when Ava is going to join the team.
"I am a reincarnated alien queen," is what Ava says haughtily. "I do not want to be a superhero, I want to be Pepper; she's cooler." There is a moment of silence as everyone takes this in, realizes it's true, and either laughs or sighs.
Later, after a delighted Pepper has started a quiet conversation with Ava about official employment details for someone who doesn't legally exist, someone points out that Coulson has been subtly recruiting Darcy to become him when she grows up and the realization is made that one day those two will rule the world. Two weeks of pre-emptive sycophantic sucking up, mostly from Tony in the form of lavish and ridiculous presents (the rest from Clint because he enjoys getting a rise out of his boyfriend), ensues before things return to normal.
The fact that the Tower is inhabited by three happy couples leads to a constant low level of discomfort for Bruce—too many reminders of a time when he was just one half of a whole, and of the person he's inescapably drawn to now.
He'd spent so long loving Betty that it's difficult to comprehend doing anything else. He still loves her. He will always love her. And he wants to tell her that she was right, that control was a better choice than avoidance. But she's moved on with her life for a second time since he raged destructively through it and he doesn't want to be the cause of shattering it all over again.
And now there's Liz.
He'd thought another beautiful, brilliant brunette would just be a painful reminder of Betty and everything he's lost since a monster erupted out of his skin. But Liz, well, she doesn't remind him of anything but herself. Consistently defying all expectations until he's had to reluctantly admit to himself that he's deeply attracted to a woman barely more than half his age.
It started on the helicarrier, from the moment she shook his hand and smiled at him with pure admiration, something he hadn't seen directed his way in a long time. And then she'd been the perfect lab assistant, far more intelligent and knowledgable than her age suggested, and clever enough to keep up with even Tony, whose energy and sharpness make Bruce a little breathless.
When she'd slipped into his head, a soothing green energy like nothing he'd felt before—the first green he hasn't been afraid of since the other guy showed up—and he'd seen himself through her eyes, seen the things she'd thought about his intelligence and curls and fidgets. Well, if he hadn't been in the middle of yet another struggle with the monster in his head he would have been blushing furiously.
That brilliant, confident exterior of hers hides a dirty mind. And strength he can hardly imagine. He did not react well to having his entire life ripped to shreds, even ignoring the other guy, and she'd experienced the same thing as a teenager.
The story she'd told in a few short sentences their first night in the Tower barely brushed the edges of what she must have experienced, and the frequent dark circles under her eyes speak of the same sort of nightmares that keep him awake and afraid. A girl who isn't fazed by deadly alien encounters, but still looks surprised every time she's praised as a member of the team. He knows all about self-loathing and lingering guilt and he hates seeing it in someone who does not deserve such toxic emotions.
She acts like any other twenty-three year old when she's with Darcy and Ava, who are terrifying in their own right. But even then there will be moments—especially between her and the blonde alien hybrid—that make the reality of who they are clear; silent conversations that echo with the ghosts of their pasts.
She's smarter than she gives herself credit for, has been an integral part of drawing all of their disparate parts together into a slowly forming cohesive whole, and the way her eyes shine when she laughs makes his hands tingle like he's back in homeroom crushing on Susan Abbott.
What it boils down to is that he's screwed, and Tony's increasingly not-subtle comments aren't helping.
Who knew that living with a bunch of brilliant, powerful people would be so much like being surrounded by a hormonal pack of teenagers?
"Did you do this, Tony?" the object of his thoughts demands, storming into the lab where he and Tony have been working on figuring out the relationship between the Chitauri and their technology.
"Did I do what?" Tony asks, his voice muffled as his head is buried in an alien engine. "I do a lot of things, you're going to need to be more specific."
Liz's hands are on her hips and her face is wearing the same kind of glare it was when she found out Tony had been tampering with the alcohol content of Steve's drinks to see if he could overcome the Captain's metabolism. "Did you get Columbia to accept me into their Graduate program even though their admissions for fall closed three months ago?"
Tony shifts and then swears loudly as his head clangs against the alien metal. There's a moment of more noises and more swearing and then he emerges, blue fluid smeared across his cheek and his hair a wild mess. "No, actually. But only because SHIELD beat me to it. I think they like you more than they like me."
Bruce grimaces, still not sure how he feels about SHIELD although his feelings on Natasha, Clint, and Agent Coulson, are far more firm, and fond, than they were when they first tracked him down in India.
Liz looks like she isn't sure how she feels either, her glare softening into a frown. "I feel like they're building a ledger, and eventually it's going to come due," she mutters, then shakes her head and sighs. "At least when you do things, Tony, I know you don't expect to be paid back. Even when you should."
Tony scowls and Liz waves a hand at him before he can argue. "It's not important right now. What is important is that I need to register for classes and go school shopping before orientation starts. Next week. I would have been planning way before now if I thought they would actually let me in before January."
She grins suddenly, despite the tension still clear in the tight line of her shoulders. "This means I'm going to be around for lab shenanigans less often, so you need to save the real fun stuff for when I'm here."
"I make no promises, missy. You have a tendency to tell Pepper about the really fun things," Tony says, wagging a finger in her direction.
Liz rolls her eyes. "Only when they involve experimenting on your roommates without their permission. Speaking of, how is the construction going? I feel like things might go a little smoother when we're not all invading your space." She grimaces before he can answer. "And now I sound like an ungrateful brat. Ignore me, it's been a rough morning."
Bruce opens his mouth to argue with her self-definition and Tony beats him to it, tossing the remains of a muffin at her head and laughing when she zaps it with a flash of green and the smell of burnt sugar. "You don't sound ungrateful, and you are definitely not the brat in this room. It's going to be at least another month before any of the floors are habitable. Not even my money can speed time, and apparently neither can you or little miss fascist, so we're all going to be treated to the heart-stopping sight of the Captain in his pajamas for a while longer."
There's a momentary pause in which all of their eyes glaze over a bit at the welcome reminder of what Steve Rogers looks like in nothing more than a pair of low slung sweatpants.
"Maybe we could postpone that construction even longer," Liz muses, and Tony laughs.
"Well, your boyfriend over here did propose to him, so I think he'll agree."
Bruce resists the urge to flash green eyes in Tony's direction, just to teach him a lesson, and Liz steps forward to get into their friend's face. She shoves a finger into his chest, right where the arc reactor used to be, and speaks in a deadly serious tone. "Tony, if you do not stop interfering and let me and Bruce figure out our shit on our own, then I'll give up my plan of naming our first child after you."
Tony gapes at her while Bruce tries not to choke on his own saliva and then Liz is doubled over with amusement, her hair falling out of its loose bun and framing her face as she laughs. Tony is still staring at her, but Bruce can breathe again. Liz is going to be the end of him, one of these days, and he's starting to think he should just give in and enjoy it.
"You're an idiot," she tells Tony fondly, once she's calmed down. "I don't even know if I want children, and I would so not name one after you." She levels a halfway serious glare at him. "But seriously, go matchmake Captain Washboard for a while instead, hmm?"
"Hear, hear," Bruce says dryly, and savors the lightning fast, brilliant smile Liz shoots him. He ignores the subsequent smirk he receives from Tony, and silently vows to slip something interesting into Tony's coffee the next time he gets a chance. It's about time his lab partner learns that his little prank war isn't as one sided as he thinks.
And plotting Tony's downfall might just involve spending more time with Liz, so really, it's a win-win scenario.
"Well, so much for joining you for more alien dissecting fun time," Liz says with a sigh. "I need to go plan my year, and then go shopping. You," she adds, pointing at Tony. "Try not to experiment on anything not already dead, and try not to give the construction workers any more work." Tony looks not even a little bit chastened and Bruce chuckles until Liz spins and points at him. "You try and make him actually listen. And also eat, because I'm pretty sure you're both close to breaking Steve's team health rules and I will so sic him on you."
"You know, when I impulsively decided to invite a bunch of unstable, and not all entirely human super heroes to live with me, I didn't expect it to involve so many rules." There's a thread of real frustration in Tony's voice and Liz gives him a softer smile, then shrugs.
"Well I didn't expect brilliant, generous, billionaires, or even more shadowy government agencies meddling in my life. And I'm pretty sure Bruce didn't even expect a real bed, much less four walls, a security system that puts the White House to shame, and the aforementioned billionaire poking him with sharp sticks in the name of friendship, so we're all learning to deal."
Tony pouts, but can't quite hide the twinkle in his eyes. "I am way more cool than a bunch of rules. Do not compare me to them. That's just not right."
Liz laughs, but doesn't bother with another retort. Instead she turns on her heels and walks to the door, then looks back at them for a brief second. She raises her hand and blows both of them a kiss, her brown eyes gleaming with satisfaction. Bruce turns red and Tony cackles. Liz winks at Bruce and then she's gone, leaving even more emotional confusion in her wake.
Tony opens his mouth and Bruce flips him off before he can speak, then turns back to the simulation he's been working on with Jarvis. He hears Tony chuckle before he dives back into the Chitauri engine, and then the silence is blessedly filled with Tony's favorite angry rock.
Tony is going down, and Liz, well, Bruce has no idea what he's going to do about her. There aren't enough rules in the world to control these people or this situation, but he's starting to think that, in this particular instance, a lack of control might be a good thing.
However much SHIELD disagrees.
In the name of building more trust and sharing knowledge—and possibly asserting more of that control—Coulson brings over one of SHIELD's scientists the next day. "We thought it was time for everyone to put their heads together on the Chitauri research. Mr. Davis here is the head of that project, and he is very excited to share his findings with you."
Tony looks deeply unhappy to have another SHIELD agent in the Tower, even one who is so clearly not a suit in disguise, so Bruce grits his teeth against his own distaste and offers a friendly smile. "Hello, Mr. Davis. We'd be happy to hear what you've discovered."
It only takes a few minutes, after Coulson's departure to the upper floors for another conversation with Darcy, before Bruce thinks he might regret that decision to be kind. Brody Davis has an energy level that matches Tony's, but it manifests in nervous tics and a fast-paced but rambling manner of speech that can make it difficult to absorb what he's actually saying. He's clearly brilliant, but also the best example of the word eccentric Bruce has ever seen.
He likes him well enough, for one thing the man couldn't be less of a SHIELD stooge if he tried, and he has a kind of quirky charm that grows on you like friendly mold. Mostly though, Bruce hopes that these visits don't become regular, because the combination of Brody and Tony in one lab is entirely too much stimulus for Bruce to deal with.
Despite the low-level stress brought by his presence, the three of them have been productive in sharing research when Liz walks into the lab. She stops cold in the doorway and Bruce and Tony both look up instinctively to see what's wrong.
"Brody, Brody Davis?" Liz's voice is high pitched with disbelief and her eyes are wide with shock. Bruce's ever present anger rumbles. Mr. Davis is friendly enough, but if he's involved with Liz's past, if he's one of those scientists she mentioned in her brief descriptions of her traumatic teenage years…
"Liz! Liz Parker!" the scientist exclaims, a wide and slightly confused smile on his face as he takes a step toward the small brunette. "What are you—Oh! That was you! The one turning the Chitauri into goo! I knew they were hiding some of the Roswell files from me. Were you like Max all along? Did you help heal my daughter?"
Liz shakes her head, still looking more than a little shocked, but calmer. Bruce lets the Hulk settle deeper below his skin, and exchanges a glance with Tony, who had been equally tense in preparation for any ugliness that could have ensued. "No, Mr. Davis. That was all Max. He healed me too." She shakes her head again with a small and not-happy laugh. "I can't believe you're with SHIELD now. We wondered what happened to you, but, well-"
"You had more than enough to deal with," the older man says kindly, his manic enthusiasm dulled to a manageable level. "Even the little bit that SHIELD did show me in the Roswell files was enough to make it clear that you kids were dealing with things I couldn't have even imagined."
Liz laughs again, bitterness tainting the sound and making Bruce wince at all the pain hidden behind it. "I still can't imagine them." She takes a breath, forcing a smile that looks a little less weary and resigned, and then narrows her eyes. "Or this. I'm going to have words with Coulson. Have you been in New York this whole time?"
Brody shakes his head. "My daughter and I live in DC, but she's with her mother right now and I temporarily moved to New York to head up the research on the Chitauri."
Liz is still clearly suspicious of SHIELD's motives, and Bruce can't disagree. He also intends to have a few words with Coulson, and is disappointed that the man who has often seemed to be their ally in the ongoing negotiation of boundaries with SHIELD didn't warn Liz about this. As friendly and harmless as Brody seems to be, he's still a reminder, and probably a triggering one, of the most traumatic years of Liz's life. She deserves a hell of a lot better than having him sprung on her with no notice.
"Well I'm here to kidnap these two for lunch," Liz says, glancing at all three of them, and then at the displays showing clips from the battle, large schematics of chitauri technology, and blown up pictures of chitauri cells. "Or would it better to order in? I don't want to break up a good research party."
"No we're fine," Bruce says firmly, at the same time that Tony says "Let's go out!" Bruce smiles a little, glad that he and Tony are both on the same wavelength. Liz is clearly uncomfortable, and he has no intention of forcing her to spend time with someone she doesn't want to. Not even in the name of science.
Brody, despite his eccentricities and general social awkwardness, seems aware of the undercurrents, and smiles brightly. "That's okay, I should get back to my lab. My assistants have absolutely no imagination and should not be left alone." He glances at Liz before looking back at Bruce and Tony. "I think we've gone over enough here that we can continue communicating by e-mail and video calls if necessary?"
Tony nods, and escorts him toward the door, careful to skirt around Liz who has wandered further into the room. "I'll have my people call your people," he says grandiosely, and then waits until the other man has disappeared down the hallway before turning to face them with his hands on his hips. "So. Hot dogs? Or there's that diner on the corner that Captain Pectoral keeps raving about."
"He's mentioned it like, twice," Liz says dryly, tone at odds with her warm smile. "Also, you've already used that nickname. Don't tell me you're running out of ideas now."
Tony clasps his hands dramatically to his chest as Bruce chuckles and tries to ignore the complicated surge of happiness he's feeling at being able to protect someone he cares about in ways that have nothing to do with the monster inside of him. "You dare impugn my honor?" Tony demands. "I am creative as fuck. Never doubt that, Invader Liz."
Liz laughs, almost all signs of tension gone from her body. "Come on, let's go see who else is hungry and then go to Katsu, I'm craving terriyaki."
Coulson and Darcy have disappeared by the time they make it upstairs. Ava and Pepper are several floors down in endless meetings, Clint is on a solo mission, Steve is at his weekly art class, and Jane is consulting with Selvig in the SHIELD safehouse he's still recovering in, so Natasha is the only one to join them.
She and Liz share one side of the booth and Tony pushes Bruce in to the other side first so that he's directly across from Liz, their feet brushing under the table as he carefully avoids eye contact.
The server takes their order and then Liz's leg swings past him to kick Tony in the shin.
"So, how's the FBI hacking going? Find Elvis yet?"
Tony kicks her back, and there's a brief but furious fight under the table before Natasha drums her fingernails warningly and they subside.
"No, but I do think I found something of interest," Tony says, as if there'd been no pause in their conversation. "I'm spending a lot of time fucking with the team assigned to your capture, but I found something else. Somehow the Special Unit managed to evade SHIELD's surveillance and make it into the caves where that spacecraft was launched from in '06."
Liz's eyes are wide and the bright grin she'd retained throughout their scuffle is fading fast.
"They found something, some sort of artifact," Tony continues, his voice pitched low enough that it won't carry past their table. "The kicker? It's energy readings are disturbingly similar to the Tesseract."
It's Bruce and Natasha's turn to look surprised while Liz just looks pained, her eyes sliding shut as her hands curl into fists on the white tablecloth. "I should have fucking known." She laughs, a bitter sound that makes Bruce press his foot against hers in comfort before he can stop himself.
Liz doesn't open her eyes but she does press back, sandwiching his foot between both of hers as she takes a deep breath. "It's called the Granilith, and—among other things—it's capable of launching spaceships and ripping holes in the fabric of time. I had a feeling it was also an energy source, but I've only ever seen it once and my knowledge of physics was pretty sparse back then."
"Well," Tony says with manic cheer after a long silence in which they all digest the implications of Liz's words, and she finally opens her eyes to smile wanly at them. "We are definitely not letting the FBI keep that little surprise."
Natasha's mouth curves into a complicated and sharp-edged smile. "After the events in '06, when you first came to our attention," she says with a nod at Liz, "I went undercover with the special unit."
Liz stares at her, her mouth slightly open, and Bruce wonders at what point they should stop being surprised at the way SHIELD's had eyes and ears and guns in all of their pasts.
"It was supposed to be in prep for taking them down after we found out everything they knew," Natasha continues with a grimace. "But someone higher up protected them."
Tony snorts. "Let me guess, the same someones who decided that New York needed a nuclear hangover on top of an alien invasion?"
Natasha nods, her eyes glinting with what Bruce is pretty sure is carefully controlled rage.
Liz shifts in the booth, reminding Bruce that their feet are still curled around each other. She lays her hands flat on the table, stilling their trembling, and stares at her fingers rather than making eye contact with any of them. "I don't know if I can do this. If I can confront them without crossing lines, without-" she cuts herself off with a shake of her head and looks up, her dark eyes bright with enough rage to make Bruce breathless as Hulk rumbles beneath his skin in instinctive response. "They were willing to kill a bunch of teenagers. They tortured a sixteen-year-old whose only crime was saving someone's life. They've apparently never given up on wanting to dissect me and two of the people I love most in the world." Her voice drops, so low that you can barely hear the pain and anger lacing through it. "And no matter how many times someone puts them down, someone else helps them get back up." Her lips lift in a snarl and her next words are spoken in a vicious whisper. "I want to put them down so hard that the only way to get them back up will be with a grave digger."
There is silence in answer; not judgmental, or shocked, but empathetic—shared pain and rage and a need for justice against those that have wronged them that has driven all of them to cross lines. Maybe too many. Maybe not enough.
Before that silence can be broken, the server returns with a tray of food and the tension is hidden beneath false smiles and welcoming words. Once the plates and drinks are on the table and effusive thanks have been expressed, she leaves them to their conversation.
Tony breaks first. "There are things I shouldn't be saying, about my very publicized revenge on the terrorists in Gulmira, and my less publicized adventure against the man who hired them; about the deaths I regret and the ones I don't, not even a little. Because we're heroes, and we're in the public eye, and SHIELD likes to pretend that they don't have any bodies buried anywhere."
The veneer of flippancy over Tony's voice is as thin as Bruce's ever heard it and it hurts, the way they're exposing their pain to the open air, baring the parts of them they're all so good at protecting.
"And at the end of the day? I think you're wrong about your self-control, but I'll help you bury any bodies you leave behind."
Liz lets out a rough little laugh and Natasha nods. "If you want to go the quiet route, I can get back in. Didn't burn my bridges. If you want a less quiet route," she shrugs, a fluid motion with a thousand implications. "I'll help Coulson look the other way, and Maria Hill will probably give you a medal."
Liz raises an eyebrow, then lefts one side of her mouth upwards in a crooked smile. "I had a feeling I was going to like her."
Bruce doesn't know what to say, what he can add, to the support already offered. Neither vengeance nor justice have ever been safe for him to pursue. He's not capable of precision, of anything other than collateral damage in people and property. So unlike Tony and, he's sure, Natasha, none of those who have wronged him have been brought to justice unless they died in a futile attempt to stop the Hulk.
And as furious as he is at General Ross, he has never blamed anyone as much as he blames himself, which makes it difficult to even enjoy fantasies of vengeance.
So he limits himself to a nod and a smile, hoping that between her gifts and the fact that they've basically been playing footsie like a couple of high-schoolers, she knows that he will support her in whatever act she chooses.
He also thinks he needs to admit, to himself at least, that he wants to do a hell of a lot more than play footsie, and that the time is rapidly approaching when he's going to have to do something about that.
They're almost done with lunch when Natasha's phone chirps. She checks it and smiles. "Clint's back and wants to burn off steam. He and Steve are going to meet us on the training floor."
Liz and Tony both grin and Bruce grimaces.
Bruce doesn't train—not as Bruce anyways, and they're still working out the kinks involved with training the Hulk—he doesn't even like to watch the others train, even though they all clearly enjoy the mayhem and carefully controlled violence. He doesn't need to learn violence—he is violence—and watching them hurt each other, even for a good cause, does bad things to his blood pressure. And he knows how to shoot a gun. Betty taught him, long before he became a weapon, so mostly he putters around the lab and tries not to brood during Steve's mandatory team training sessions.
But this one he can't sit out. He can't be there, perhaps especially today, with his feelings and worries for Liz and the whole team so close to the surface. But Jarvis helps him spectate with the added ability of being able to mute or look away from the screen if it becomes too much for any of his monsters to handle.
The training floor is in one of the basement sub-levels. Safer from external attacks and internal damage. It's still undergoing constant renovation, driven by whatever vision Tony has in his head and the special requests that Steve, Natasha, and Clint have all made. But the biggest room is wall-to-wall mats, used for free-for-all sessions like the one they're doing today.
Clint is obviously in a mood, raring for the physical release of violence without the kinds of risks and consequences inherent in their missions. Steve is clearly aware of this and has paired him and Natasha, pitting them against the rest of the team in a no-holds barred battle that is breathtaking and almost beautiful in the sheer scale of potential destruction.
Natasha and Clint know each other so well, and are so well-trained, that they can hold their own against the other three despite their lack of enhancements. They move with fluid grace and devastating violence, using each other's bodies as effectively as they use their own and the environment.
On the other side Steve is the most graceful, clearly comfortable and experienced with his body and what it can do. He hits less often, unable to match Clint and Natasha's speed, but the power behind those hits is unmatched. Tony is in a lighter version of his armor, specifically designed for training. While he doesn't have the same level of martial arts training, he is fast, and very good at using his ability to fly against the others.
Liz has the least amount of combat training of all of them, Bruce included, but she's creative, and her powers have near limitless applications. And between team sessions, one-on-one sessions with Natasha, and Steve overseeing her and Tony's physical fitness regime, her combat inexperience is quickly being remedied.
On the screen Natasha is launching herself off of Clint's hip while he fires an electrified arrow at Tony's helmet. Natasha lands feet first on Steve's chest, knocking him backwards, while Tony knocks the arrow out of the air. Liz snatches it up, absorbing the electricity and sending it crackling outwards so that Clint has to dodge and roll to the side. Steve and Natasha are engaged in an acrobatic tussle that would look choreographed if it wasn't for the force of their blows.
They are a formidable team, growing more formidable every day as they learn to fight together and how to compensate for each other's weaknesses. And as much as he hates the idea, he should probably push Tony on finding a way for Hulk to join in. He doesn't want to let them down in the heat of battle, and maybe letting Hulk out under controlled circumstances—with Liz around if anything goes wrong—will help with his control.
He doesn't remember what happens when he's the Hulk, not really. Just brief flashes of images and sensations, intense and brutal and distorted by rage. But the anger from the battle in New York felt different, less chaotic, without the constant underpinnings of fear and pain that usually precipitate a change.
And he knows that New York won't be the last time the Avengers are called to action, won't be the last time the Hulk must become a purposeful weapon instead of a destructive, angry monster.
He turns off the display after another minute, reassured that no one on the team is so angry, or anything else, that they're in danger of losing control, and already seeing signs of relaxation and hints of smiles. After a moment of staring at the blank screen—restless, conflicting urges making his skin itch—he dives back into work. It's his only safe outlet these days, and it is a genuine pleasure to work on any science that isn't related to the Hulk.
He's not sure how many hours he loses in equations and diagrams and cell analyses before Liz wanders in, freshly showered and wearing sweatpants and a tank top with Steve's shield on it, but it's long enough that he's hungry again once he remembers his body exists. Liz leans against his shoulder, surprising him despite the fact that she, like Tony, is a tactile person. "Dinner time. You ready for a break?"
He nods, not trusting his voice when she's so close that he can smell the vaguely citrus scent of her hair and feel the warmth of her bare skin through his shirt sleeve.
She smiles up at him and then brushes a kiss against his cheekbone, so fast and soft he almost thinks he imagined it. "Thank you," she says, not clarifying what for, and then tugs on his shirt sleeve to get him moving toward the elevator. "Steve's cooking, so you know it's going to be amazing and enough calories to feed the green guy for like a week."
Bruce smiles at that, the tingling in his skin and sickly flutters in his stomach mostly under control. "And lots of Tony complaining about metabolisms and getting the short end of the superhero stick."
Liz grins and nods as she pushes the button for the communal floor. "Typical Tuesday."
When they get to the kitchen, only Jane, Ava, Pepper, and Tony are missing. Jane's not scheduled to come back for another two days, Ava and Pepper are presumably still in the lower floors of the Tower—hard at work keeping the Stark empire in its dominating position in the global economy—and Tony is sure to wander in sooner or later.
Bruce is setting the table while Steve dishes everything up, figuring he's the least exhausted of the team, when Tony storms in, his hair wild and still wet, glaring at Bruce. "You!" he exclaims, but, for once in his life, seems to lack the words to continue.
The fact that every inch of his exposed skin is a brilliant, emerald green might have something to do with that.
Clint almost falls off the counter he's laughing so hard, and Natasha and Steve both grin more widely than Bruce has ever seen. Darcy's chair wobbles as she giggles, and even Phil has a broad smirk on his face.
"You are a genius," Liz breathes, looking at him with open glee and admiration, and Bruce flushes, then bows.
Tony is still glaring, but his lips are twitching suspiciously as he shakes a vivid green fist at Bruce. "It doesn't take a genius to dose someone's body wash, just the mind of a twelve-year-old."
Bruce raises an eyebrow at the idea that Tony is the mature one here and Tony finally laughs. "This had better wear off before the next shareholders meeting." He pauses, tapping a finger against his lips—a slightly darker shade of green. "Although it could be fun to sell them on the idea of personal body dye—a new shade for every mood!"
"Absolutely not," Pepper says as she walks into the room, Ava at her heels. Ava is grinning, her eyes wide, and Pepper's lips are curled up in clear amusement. "It's hard enough to get them to take you seriously when you're human-colored." She turns to look at Bruce before Tony can respond. "You and I should definitely talk about commercial applications, however. I'm sure even without Tony's unique brand of creativity we can come up with some viable options." Her voice is sly, a warm twinkle in her eyes that makes Bruce return her grin despite himself.
"Sounds fun. It's been a while since I made money doing science." Or since he made money at all. And maybe contributing to the Stark corporation's bottom line will make him feel less like Tony's charity case.
"We could start a whole line of prank products! Like those wizard kids only cooler because it's real!" Tony exclaims, clapping his hands together, and Bruce chuckles as Phil's entire body shudders.
"Well that's terrifying," Liz says brightly, propping her chin in her hands as Ava claims the chair between her and Darcy. "I'm so in."
Clint snorts, sliding off the counter to sit next to Phil at the table. "I call dibs on not being a product tester." Natasha bares her teeth in a smile that is all danger, and Bruce isn't sure if it means she's daring Tony to test things on her, or is contemplating testing them on Clint. Or both.
Phil gives Pepper a pleading look and she just shakes her head with a grin, a clear indicator that she's not going to try and talk Tony out of his new project. At least not now.
It's Steve who succeeds in changing the subject, by setting an abrnomally large pot of stew in the middle of the table. It's joined by two plates of cornbread—one plain and one laced with honey—two giant bowls of salad (and not the wimpy iceberg kind), and two large platters of sliced fruit. Knowing Steve as he's come to, Bruce is sure there's some rich and amazing dessert just waiting to torment them after they've stuffed themselves.
Tony groans, dropping into a chair next to Pepper as he eyes the food with a look that's half wariness and half greed. "I think you're trying to kill me, Rogers. In all the ways I imagined my death, none of them involved beef and potato stew until you came along."
"Sounds like a failure of imagination to me, Stark," Steve answers with good cheer as he finally sits down and starts dishing up a bowl of stew for himself.
Tony splutters. "I have never once in my life been accused of not having enough imagination."
Pepper picks up one of his hands, examining it closely before leaning in to kiss his cheek. "It is a lovely color on you, darling."
He looks like he isn't sure if he wants to respond with pleasure or wariness to this clear distraction attempt, and Bruce chuckles as he accepts the plate of cornbread that Liz passes him.
"You're still my favorite," Liz tells him with a wink. "But I think I would sell my soul for Steve's cornbread."
Steve laughs, low and delighted, and Bruce can't help his grin. He's her favorite. He's not only living with a bunch of hormonal teenagers in adult bodies, he's a hormonal teenager living in an adult body.
Liz's cell phone starts vibrating on the table and she frowns at it. Bruce is close enough to see a photo of an older, red-headed woman before she stands, holding the phone up to her ear as she steps away from the table. "Mom? Is everything alright?"
Bruce can't hear the response, but he sees Liz's face go pale as she sways and reaches out blindly until her free hand catches on the back of her chair. "How long has he been there?"
The whole table has fallen silent by now, watching her with concern and rising tension.
"Have you or dad told him anything?"
Her mom's voice raises enough that Bruce can hear it, although he still can't make out any words, and Liz winces visibly. "No, no. I'm sorry. You're right. Tell him if he leaves you alone, I'll talk to him." Liz glances at Tony and Pepper. "I'll be there as soon as possible, I promise."
There is more of her mom's raised voice, another apology from Liz, and then awkward, wary silence as she hangs up the phone and stares at her hands for a minute before visibly shaking herself and looking up with a patently false smile. "So a reporter figured out who I am, apparently. Has some footage of me from the battle. I need to go to Roswell and figure out what truths to tell him, and which ones to tell my parents."
"Happy can drive you to the airport and the jet will be ready by the time you get there," Tony says instantly, Pepper nodding her agreement, and Liz's smile fades into something softer, more real.
"Thank you."
"Do you want me, or anyone, to come with you?" Ava asks her, before Bruce can find the words, and he's not sure if he's disappointed or relieved when Liz shakes her head.
"No, I need to do this alone. I should have told them the truth ages ago. As for the reporter," she shrugs, lips twisting with bitter amusement. "Well he can't be any scarier than Fury. And I've seen all of Tony's press conferences, so I know what not to do," she adds with a wink at Tony and an almost natural smile.
He laughs and then grins at her. "I'm a media darling, I'll have you know."
Pepper pats his hands. "Yes, dear. That's why the Bugle has a dartboard with your face on it." Tony pouts and Pepper smiles at Liz. "If you need anything, let us know. I know all the right people to call to get something buried, or at least spun to our advantage. We probably can't stop this-"
"And there's only so much SHIELD can do when it comes to the press," Coulson cuts in with a faint grimace.
Pepper nods at him before speaking again."Your identity, all of your identities," she adds, her piercing gaze sweeping the table, "are likely to come out at some point. But we can tell the story the way you want it told. Including scooping the bastard if he turns out to be an asshole."
Liz grins at her, somewhere between bloodthirsty and holding back tears—an emotion Bruce's become far too familiar with in the years since the Hulk—and then includes them all in her gaze. "I expect the Tower to still be here when I get back, so try not to break any more walls."
"Yes, Mom," Natasha deadpans, and Clint pats Steve on the shoulder.
"Dad'll keep us in line while you're gone."
Steve knocks Clint's hand off his shoulder with a forceful shrug, but smiles. "We'll be fine. And I'm sure Tony has another jet if you decide you want some backup after all."
"I have a fleet of jets," Tony assures them. "Not to mention I can, you know, fly."
Liz laughs, a soft sound, then waves at them before heading down the hall toward the bedrooms—presumably to change and pack a bag.
The table feels emptier without her, and even if that's just a Bruce thing, he knows they're all worried—for Liz, and for the implications for all of them if the press is no longer satisfied with rehashing the Chitauri attack, or focusing on Tony whose identity is already known and conveniently flashy.
Between Steve, Clint, and Pepper, the conversation gains new life, but it never regains its initial cheer. After dinner, and clean-up, Ava and Darcy coerce everyone into a team movie night instead of letting them disperse into whatever individual activities they would all bury themselves in while they waited to hear from Liz, or another emergency to crop up.
There's another popcorn break after Princess Bride and Willow to debate the next film; no one seems to be interested in sleep. One hour into Lady Hawke and Clint being subjected to endless needling, Jarvis turns off the movie and lets them hear that Liz's comm has been turned on.
"Your team can't help you now, Ms. Parker. You will tell us all about Max Evans, and the summer of 2006."
Green rises behind Bruce's eyes, blinding in its rage and brilliance, and he holds himself inside his skin by the thinnest of threads as the room descends into organized chaos. Steve grabs his shoulder in a gentle grip, blue eyes asking a silent question, and Bruce bares his teeth.
"Point me in the right direction, Captain, and tell everyone to stay out of the way."