Hey, everybody!...
*nervous laughter*
Yeah, I know...I'm terrible and really late and I am really, really, so, so sorry that this update took so crazy long!
I've been stuck in the absolute WORST writing rut in the history of ever and i'm just beginning to get out of it, to be honest. But, through weeks and weeks of crying literal sad angry tears, i've managed to piece this chapter together for you...I apologize if it's absolute shite! It's sorta boring, but the next one will be better! Still, i'm always willing to fix things if you bring it up (nicely, please)!
I hope you enjoy!...Somehow...Jfc...
P.S. Happy Thanksgiving! I'll edit again after I wake up, ya'll. It's 5 am here so time for me to sleep...
Simza doesn't know why or when it started.
But sometime after she leaves her apartment, she finds herself thinking that the day suddenly feels...wrong.
Well, wronger.
Her day hadn't exactly started out stellar to begin with, what with her little spat with Fury and with Banner leaving her and all.
But now, it's more than just that, even.
It's something in the air, like she's stepped out her door into some parallel universe where up is down and left is right and nobody notices but her.
The day's gone off.
And something is brewing.
Something bad.
A clock may as well have started tick, tick, tick-ing down in her ear right then, just to make her even more certain of it.
An ominous chill ripples up her spine as she crosses the busy streets towards her destination, and as soon as it hits, she knows- if she were smart, she'd stop.
If she were smart, she'd trust her intuition; find out why she feels so bent-out-of-shape.
If she were smart, she'd go the hell back home.
But instead, she merely takes a slow breath to shake off the doubt and continues on, because that is all she knows how to do.
That is all she's ever known how to do.
Push on.
Even if her heart is crushed to dust and black glass pieces are littering the ground behind her everywhere she walks.
Even if she's lost and empty and all alone and has no one to blame but her lies and her powers and everything else that makes her, her.
Even if, every once in awhile, she wants to quit this constantly getting mixed up in the chaotic, never-ending evil of the world (and of herself) and just stay
Perfectly.
Still.
In good, for once...
'Even if', she continues on.
And much too soon, here she is...
Standing before the entrance to a grand dance hall, ready to work at her mission of the day.
A mission that calls for the agent Simza Sterling, and not the woman.
And so, dumping all of her feelings there in the doorway, she climbs the steps to the entrance, flashes her invitation at the suited doorman, and disappears into the building.
The party, as far as parties go, is nothing special.
It's fancy and packed full of well-to-do people, all hiding their ravenous lust for money and power underneath perfectly coifed hair and red lips and crisp suits.
The job itself is so easy, it's almost frightening.
No car chases or gun fights or bombs this time.
Instead, it's just dance a little, mingle, try to blend in, all the while taking down bits and pieces of vital info that will help to incriminate each and every person in the room.
She only runs into trouble once when an attendee, an old man well into his fiftes, recognizes her and nearly causes a panic, but she takes care of him quickly and silently with a mere touch of his arm.
After that, it's smooth sailing for Simza Sterling as she works her way around the room, disarming people with little shows of simple-mindedness until they're all conversing over her with lazily coded sentences and thin 'What on Earth is a peasant like her even doing here?' smiles.
Sometimes, it's difficult to pretend not to read the dripping condescension in their faces. But she grits her teeth and ignores it as best she can and finally, just as she's thinking she'll scream if one more uppity snob curls their lip and speaks to her at a pace of a word a minute, it's time.
The disappearing act.
She breathes a sigh of relief. Stretches her tense shoulders in preparation and rolls her cricking neck side to side against the strain of her confining dress.
Ready...
She murmurs the next part out loud, a soft whisper on her lips, so quiet it's lost in the sound of her breathing.
"Go."
A short hour later, Simza Sterling is breezing right out the front door, a perfect stranger to the exclusive, ever-so-elegant world behind her; a perfect world that wouldn't miss her even if they could remember.
Mission complete.
Easy peasy.
But just as she's thinking 'job well done', she passes by a grand, gold-engraved grandfather clock settled on the marble stairs, and as she pauses to stare at herself reflected in the onyx face, she wonders why it is that she can still hear it, loud and eerie, in her head.
Tick, tick, tick, tick...
They meet in the hallway.
And when they do, they're both surprised.
Then, they're embarrassed.
Because it is so obvious to each of them that they have been looking for each other, but neither of them are socially well-adjusted enough to know quite how to handle this.
And so, for awhile, they just linger in the low lights, Banner rubbing the back of neck, unsure of what to do, Simza blinking and taking a breath as she studies him cautiously from a mere foot away.
Finally, she speaks.
"...Hi." she whispers, so they don't wake Thor whose room they are standing just outside of.
"I-uh...Hey." Banner replies.
It's quiet for another moment and Simza shifts her weight back and forth in the dark. Banner watches because even though he has so much to say, he doesn't know how to start and so, Simza takes over for him.
The way she has a million times before.
"Bruce- er. Doctor." she corrects herself quickly. "I'm...sorry. For what I said. You know. Earlier. I didn't have the right. I mean, we- we hardly even know each other and with Fury and SHIELD and all of my, you know, stupid emotional baggage, i've just been on edge ever since I got here and maybe i've been taking it out on the wrong people but- and...well...-"
She stops her rambling and glances up at him.
"...I'm sorry..." she murmurs sheepishly.
For a moment, Banner can't reply.
Because he's only really seeing it now and how on Earth had he done this to her?
Brought her from Ellie Mills, who had unashamedly teased him and touched his face and told her she cared, down to Simza Sterling, who called him by his first name and then scrambled to cover it up, eyes scared and watching for any sign he might hate her for it.
It's too sad a change for him to bear. And so, Banner tries his hardest to relax the semi-permanent frown lines etched in his features into an expression that is far more willing, far more wanting, far more everything.
For once.
"No, uh...I'm sorry, too." he says. A pause. Then, more quietly, "...And...you were right. About me."
Sterling reels back at that, as if she can't have heard correctly, and Banner doesn't know if he's more amused or guilt-ridden that she's so shocked. Nevertheless, he is resolved to continue- however haltingly the words may come.
"..I'm not-...You see, I...I don't-..." he tries first.
But nothing seems right and words aren't enough and Banner can only frown and continue to fumble with half-syllables until he breaks off with a frustrated sigh to collect his thoughts so he can only try and fail again.
Fortunately for him, Simza is as patient as she has always been.
And so, while he is dragging a hand through his hair and trying to gather his thoughts together, she waits.
That gives him his edge. And finally, he takes a breath and-
"...You heard what 'the other guy' did to that girl 6 years ago, Simza. She died. Because of me." Banner says. "...It's not them back there I don't trust. It's not SHIELD, It's not Romanoff." And then there's a brief pause before he glances up at her just for a second before he looks down at the ground again and admits, more softly, "It's not...you..."
And at this, at the first tiny glimpse of simple truth he's ever really had the chance to show her, Simza's surprise softens into a look. That look. The one so gentle it kills him.
"Yeah. I know..." she says.
For a moment, it seems as if she'll reach out and lay her hand on his shoulder and make everything better- just like old times.
Powered or not, part of him wants her to. But then...
She instantly blinks away; her hand clenching into a tight fist, a sudden feeling of doubt pricking at her insides.
"I know," she says again. "and I get what you're saying and all, but...Bruce," she continues nervously. "maybe...maybe we're not so great either...What I do, they're not accidents, you know. I hurt people. I kill people. I...-" Her eyes flicker up at him, then quickly to the ground again. "-lie to people. I don't do good things..."
Immediately, Banner knows what she's so afraid of.
And so, just this once, he shakes his head more in defense of her than as a warning of himself.
"You can control it. It's different." he promises.
"Is it?" she asks, but her eyes are doubtful.
He only nods.
"Better? Or worse?" she snorts.
It surprises him he's never truly considered that. And watching him frown and struggle through those thoughts, Simza stops pressing, suddenly afraid he will over-think himself back to square one and pull away again.
And just when they were starting to get somewhere, too.
"Er, nevermind! Forget that. Sorry, i'm doing it again, aren't I?" she says quickly to distract him. "Sticking my nose where it doesn't belong, I mean..." Simza scratches her head timidly and tries to smile, forcing the serious air between them to dissipate at once in a somewhat clumsy attempt.
Banner can't help but chuckle.
"I don't mind."
"Oh, come on. Yeah you do." she replies, with a somewhat self-conscious laugh. "You're just being too nice right now to say otherwise."
Simza thinks about this for a moment. Then adds, with a grin and a touch more of that old playfulness, "Not that i'm complaining. It's why you're so easy to like, you know."
Like.
Banner's heart skips a beat; an awkward, unpracticed motion happening again for the first time in years, and he has to take a moment before he recognizes what the feeling means in all it's rusty, wonderful familiarity.
She, however, only looks at him in concern as he hasn't responded to her quip at all. And to be honest, it's making her kind of nervous she's over-stepped some invisible boundary line again.
"Doctor?...Are you okay?" she asks carefully.
"What? Oh. Yeah. I...uh, don't know if i'm all that nice is all." he covers quickly. Then, he realizes he means it and continues with a wry smile, "...I shouldn't have yelled at you, Sterling. I'm sorry for that too. Just got caught up in the mood of the room, I guess..."
"We both did." she assures him. Then, "Stark sure dropped one hell of a bomb on us though, didn't he?"
He knows she's only rapid-firing some random topic to keep him from feeling too guilty.
And in any other instance, Banner wouldn't even entertain the thought of accepting this undeserved kindness.
But just this time, he figures, he'll try.
And so, he softens, gives in to the good-feeling, and plays along.
"Yeah...He did." Banner answers with a laugh.
And after a moment, she laughs too.
It's strange, uncertain, and forced at first, more a harmony of mirthless coughs than anything. But slowly, they begin to feel each other out and when they realize the other is trying to be genuine underneath the shallow words, they relax and suddenly it becomes something real.
And just like that- with a shared amusement at their clumsy social skills, day's worth of strange tensions simmer down to nothing.
Not because the idea of weapons are funny, of course, but because just for that one moment, it feels almost like she never lied, and he never left, and they aren't here, exactly where they are, where everything's wrong and trouble is always mere moments away.
Simza trails off into a satisfied sigh and leans her head against the doorway, a small relieved smile crossing her face as she takes him in- 6 years older and 7 times as tired, but somehow, still just the same.
I missed you.
The thought hits them both as suddenly and painfully as any bullet ever has, and the feeling creeps over them, seeps into their bones and swells in their chests until it's almost too much, and Banner has to take a deep breath to stop the words from spilling out before he has the chance to explain.
Steeling himself, he balls his hands into fists in his pockets and peers his dark eyes down at her cautiously.
"Sterling, if you're not too tired...do you...want to join me in the lab? I've got some work I gotta take care of." he says. Then, as a sort of excuse, "But, uh, we wouldn't want me turning into...'the other guy' while you're away, would we?"
She nods, happy. Oblivious to the atomic bomb he's about to drop on her newfound sense of peace, and part of him feels guilty for it, and yet, another part of him knows that he needs it to happen.
He wants it to. So that, finally, finally, finally- he will have the freedom to tell her, the one constant good in his life, the simple truth:
That despite all the lies, despite the deception from both her and him, the past and present dangers, the death lingering around them and everything they do, every word they say, every part of who they are,
he loves her...
He still loves her.
Do with that knowledge whatever she may.
Tick, tick, tick...
The clock shows 3:32 am by the time they are settled in what's become their respective territories of the lab, (for him, the station just in the center of the room and for her, the desk in the far corner) each with something to drink in one hand and something made-up that they need to work on in the other.
And they are, each of them, fully aware that it's just a few more precious hours that they have alone together.
Because soon, the ship will slowly wake for the day and they'll have to deal with the bad blood between the other members of their happy little group again.
Even so, for awhile, the two only spend a considerable amount of minutes in silence, each lost in their own thoughts and musings over how to proceed from here.
Because the truth is, Simza only knows what to do when Banner runs away. She isn't quite as familiar with what to do when he starts seeking her out.
She knows what she probably should do, of course...
As it so happens, Banner finds himself worrying over the very same thing: the same, only different too, because it isn't quite a 'should' for him, it's a 'will'.
He only needs to work out the impossibly confounding problem of 'how'...
And so, even after Simza's decided to push the issue from her mind for now and started to ramble aimlessly of this and that out of habit, the doctor finds himself continually turning the issue over and over in his own mind until she addresses him directly.
"...Either way, maybe that's exactly why...I need to be here. With other people like me, you know?"
She glances at him meaningfully.
Despite his nerves, Banner stifles a chuckle at her attempt to be subtle.
Thinking on what he knows of her now, it's amazing that someone so...open and easy to read is an agent. Then again, maybe she just seems that way to him.
"Really. You'd just let all of it go. What happened between you and Fury, just like that?" he says.
She flashes him a wry smile then, sighs, and continues to play with the handle of her mug absently for awhile. When she speaks again, her voice is quiet.
"No...But i'm tired of being angry, Banner..." she confesses. "Thing is, somewhere along the way, I guess I forgot that being one of the good guys means more than keeping my own hands clean. Maybe...Maybe I have to do the bad things, you know? So that someone better won't have to, and, I mean, sure, the higher-ups will still screw up once in awhile, but the best thing about being an Avenger is, when that happens, you can push back. Right?" she grins.
"'You'? Not...'we'?" Banner frowns.
Simza simply shrugs as she stares at the ceiling.
"Yeah. Or, well, I don't know...I wasn't really part of the original plan. If Romanoff hadn't suggested me, I wouldn't even be here."
And that, the very idea of her being a mere afterthought, especially to herself, hurts him far more than he expects. (Even if he knows it's partly his fault.)
Before Banner knows what's come over him, he's stopping again, looking right at her through silver-rimmed glasses, saying, "Simza?"
"Mm?" she replies unsuspectingly, through a huge mouthful of water.
"...I'm glad you are. Here, I mean."
Mid-swallow, with her cheeks ballooning out, she blinks in surprise first. Then, she chokes as she gulps down her drink but even through a hacking cough, she can't help but smile.
"...Thanks..." she manages to croak in reply.
Once she's calmed down, she lowers her mug down to the table again, hiding a blush that she knows is ridiculous but can't stop from spreading anyway. And he nods in return, a tiny smile starting on his own face, before spinning back around in his chair and pushing himself down to a computer screen to type in some data.
After that, there's a heaven-sent lull in the conversation that he is hyper aware of. And the longer it stretches on, the more he feels as if it's now or never, and so Banner thinks to himself,
Well, here goes...
His palms sweating, he quietly clears his throat and begins to say-
"Simza, I-"
Only, he does so at the very exact moment that she chooses to say-
"So how's all-"
They stop at the same time.
"Er..."
"Go ahead."
"Oh, you can go first."
"No, no..."
"It's alright..."
"Simza..."
"Okay. Er. Well, I was just gonna say...So how's all this going, anyway?" Sterling says. She nods her head vaguely towards the bounty of machinery as she abandons her corner and chooses to lean over the counter beside him instead.
"Uh. Oh..." Banner breathes.
(And it's only partly because he's relieved she's stalled this out for a little while longer. The other part may or may not have to do with the fact that she's so close he can practically feel the heat of her body. The body he'd once seen wrapped in a towel and nothing else.)
He quickly tears his eyes away from her at the memory.
"It's..." he nods. "It's going. Tony and I have the model locked. We're sweeping for the signal now. Once we get a hit, we'll have the location within a half mile radius."
Simza nods, impressed.
"You do good with a few wires and dials, doctor."
He shrugs.
"Science is something I can work with."
"As opposed to..." she prompts, tilting her head at him inquisitively.
"I don't know...People?" he snorts. "Everything."
She just grins mischievously as she rests her chin in her hand.
"Oh, I don't know about that. I think Stark might be in love with you, doctor. And if you can get him to fall out of love with himself long enough to do that, well then...We should just call up the wedding planner already."
Banner chuckles.
"Yeah, I don't know how 'in love' he is..." the doctor muses. "But he's...a decent guy. Hangs around enough, I guess. Kinda like some weird permanent glue..."
"Oh. Well, if you're gonna reject him, just remember to let him down easy." Simza advises jokingly. "Or, wonderful guy that he is, he'll hold it over you forever."
"Like he does with you?" Banner smiles.
"Yeah." she winces. "Exactly like that."
The two of them laugh at that for awhile, but after their amusement's died down and just as Banner is beginning to relax, Simza suddenly straightens.
"Oh. That's right. You were saying something before. Sorry, what was it?"
Banner swallows, tense all over again.
And as uncertain as he feels, he means to tell her but-
"That- Uh- I don't remember." his mouth blurts instead, heart pounding in his chest.
As soon as the words are out of his mouth, he kicks himself inwardly for his cowardly instincts.
Because there. Now he's gone and done it.
Ruined his chance again.
But,
"...Yeah, you do." Simza only laughs. "I can see it written all over your face, Banner."
"...Can you?"
She nods.
But he doesn't continue and, sensing his uneasiness is about something bigger than her jokes now, Simza stops grinning and her face softens, and she continues, all kind eyes and genuine words,
"Whatever it is, you can tell me, you know." she murmurs. "Whatever it is, i'm here for you, Bruce."
That, he knows, has always been true.
And so,
"...Alright." he agrees.
Banner talks.
Simza listens.
And it's a strange and rare kind of real-life magic that has worked its way here:
The right thing said at the right time.
Even if the right time, as it so happens, is just before the very, very wrong time, indeed.
Tick, tick, tick...
Banner watches the clock relentlessly.
There's a stack of books abandoned on the ground beside his feet and just in front, the TV is booming and zinging with gunshots and explosions from a re-run of some high-stakes action thriller from decades past.
Still, even despite all of the possible distractions, his thoughts always stray.
And with his thoughts, his eyes do, too.
Together, they wander constantly in perfect time. First, across the newly-tidied apartment to the lavender rose sitting innocently on the table in an empty wine bottle (he couldn't find a pitcher or a vase). Then, towards the clock where he spends a few moments to count down the seconds anxiously. And then, back to the screen again, as his mind turns with constant questions.
Rose, clock, TV.
Then, again. Rose, clock, TV.
Tick, tick, tick, tick...
It continues forever.
But when he finds himself jumping at what turns out to be the doorbell ringing on TV even though he knows full well Ellie doesn't even have a doorbell to begin with, he laughs at himself first. Then he clears his throat self-consciously, shifts around, and decides to give up all pretenses, shut off the TV, and just watch the clock.
He'll find some peace and calm in the quiet, constant ticking, maybe, knowing that each individual second is leading him closer and closer back to her.
But just then,
Knock, knock!
Banner's heart stops. And every nerve in his body tenses as he turns and looks and as anxious as he is to see her, he still wonders for a second, why Ellie Mills might be knocking on the front door of her very own house.
But then, his eyes land on the counter top and he nearly laughs.
She forgot her key.
How very like her.
And when he hears the light rummaging outside the door then, that alone is enough to confirm her identity.
Hurriedly, he plucks the rose from its place, hides it neatly behind his back, then takes a breath, and swings the door open, determined to make the next few minutes count.
"Hey, you forget something, Ell-?" he starts with a smile.
But it is not the prettied-up figure of Ellie Mills who greets him.
Just the cold, black muzzle of a gun.
There's a loaded click shortly followed by a dry chuckle then, and Banner's body finally remembers it has a soul long enough for his terrified eyes to look the source of the laugh until they land on...
"So good to finally meet you, Dr. Banner." an unfamiliar man says.
"We've heard so much." another one adds.
When two pairs of rough hands grab at him, Banner doesn't fight them.
No...
Instead, he fights with every wretched part of his being, the panic, the fear, the anger, pulsing stronger and hotter with each beat of his heart, in his blood, in his veins.
In himself.
And he hopes. He wishes.
He prays.
That this time, he can win.
When he finally says it, it's as if time slows.
And the only things Simza can hear is the amplified sound of her own breathing, the echoing drum of her blood pumping, and from somewhere in the past, the familiar rhythm of that infernal countdown to disaster.
"I know, Simza."
Tick, tick, tick.
Then, again. In slow motion.
"I know...who...you...are..."
Tiiick...tiiick...
An an extra heavy
...tiiiiiiiick...
For a moment, Simza loses her mind.
But then,
a sudden hand on her shoulder.
Time snaps back into place.
Simza jumps, Banner's face is inches from hers, and the ticking is gone.
"Simza...Are...you alright?"
She...has no idea.
...Is she?...
She blinks, shakes her head, and listens again.
Tick, tick, tick.
Oh.
No. Nope.
It is still there.
Only...
This time, she's starting to realize, it's...-
"...real..." she whispers, more to herself than to Banner.
"...What?" he asks.
"It's...real. It's real!" she says, louder this time and starting to panic. "Do you hear that?"
"Uh...I heard...me telling-"
"No, no, no. That's not it." Simza interrupts. Her eyes wander around unfocused, searching for something and Banner is taken back by the interruption at first, but he says nothing more as she slips out of his hands and edges towards the source of whatever noise she is hearing.
"Simza, I-" he begins.
But at that moment, her ears prick back and she stops in her tracks and she hears it again-
Tick...Tick...Tick
Then, faster.
And faster.
And faster.
Until it's just a rapid tickticktickticktick and then-
BEEEEP!
And anybody who's anybody in SHIELD knows what that means.
Gasping, Simza jolts back, remembers Banner, instinct takes over and "Get down!" she screams.
Not a hundredth of a second too soon, she dives towards him using all her weight as a deafening BOOM rattles the entire aircraft, sends it tilting in the sky, and she and Banner go crashing through the lab window, then tumbling over the railing, limbs thrown every which direction, across the walkway, and down, down, down until they land with a final clang! against the metal flooring of the cargo room.
When the dust settles, Simza is gasping against the pain that's knocked the wind flat out of her. Her lungs feel, for a moment, as if someone's dropped a ton of iron right onto her chest and she's sure she can feel a spray of glass shards embedded in her arm, but when she can breathe again, the first thing she does, is look for him.
There.
Across the room just a few feet away.
Slowly, slowly, she forces herself up between short hitches of breath.
"Are you...alright?" she gasps.
"Urhgn..." he groans, amidst the sudden tramping of a hundred footsteps and the screaming alarms and panicked orders shouted from above.
He's lying still, face-down, trying to shake off the pain just like her, but, he manages a nod and so, for all intents and purposes, he's safe.
She takes a moment to breathe a painful sigh of relief, when-
"Sterling! Please tell me that's you and the doctor I just saw crash-landing down there!" Agent Hill shouts, shining a flashlight down in their direction.
Simza squints when the light hits her square in the face and blinded as she is, calls back across the maze of metal pipes and stairs and rails lining the walls, "Yeah, it's me! The doctor's here, too. We got a little roughed up but we're okay!"
"You sure?"
"Yeah, there was-"
She breaks off into a hiss as she tries to stand and feels a searing pain shoot down from the knee.
She frowns in the dark and-...
Perfect.
Her leg is oh-so-conveniently trapped between a pipe and a fallen weapon stand. At least it isn't broken.
It's still an annoyance to be sure, but it's one she can deal with- no matter.
Banner is fine and that's all she needs.
"There was a bomb! I heard it before it went off!" she tries again. "Call every available agent! Make sure Loki doesn't get away!"
"On it!" Hill nods.
But then, as she's leaning back over the railing, her blue eyes drift to something just over Simza's shoulder and her face goes sheet white and even her normally flawless mask of confidence, for a second, cracks.
Simza doesn't notice this just yet, however, too preoccupied with the problem of how she's going to free herself from under a fragile balance of a good 200 pounds of metal at least.
"Sterling..." says Hill.
"Go! We'll be fine!"
"No, Sterling, listen to me!" Hill says, beginning to sound frantic.
"What is it?" she sighs.
In response, the agent merely jerks her head towards something in the background and Simza's starting to feel irritated, but she follows Hill's eyes anyway and when she does...
Her blood turns to ice.
And all her words die on her lips and and she's thrown back into a trap of nightmares, of memories, and every single other feeling in her dies except for fear.
Because...they aren't fine.
They aren't fine at all.
In fact, they might be doomed.
"Banner?..." Simza whispers.
Her voice is thin and raspy.
"Unnngh..." comes the response. And he's balling up his hands into a tight fist. He's trying to get up too-soon, and she's realizing his nod wasn't really a nod at all, but a desperate way to clear his busy head, a twitchy, strange animal-like gesture, as he tries to get on his hands and knees but only collapses over and over and over again in a way that's so futile and pathetic it would hurt her.
But there's no time for that now.
Because for the second time in her life, Simza is left small, trapped, helpless. Like Andromeda chained and left before Cetus, and she is only wielding powers that, for all their many uses, are rendered ironically useless whenever it seems to really matter.
And in front of her...
In front of her is the same man.
A changing man.
A fading man.
A losing man.
"Simza!" Hill calls, snapping her from her horror.
She swallows, hard.
"...Go." Sterling says.
"Have you completely lost it? He's-" Hill protests.
"I said go. Get out of here!" Simza interrupts. "Call the others together and protect the ship. I'll deal with this!"
And even though she knows it is hopeless, even though she knows it is terrible, even though, once, she'd been against the very idea of calling Simza Sterling in for this very reason, for her fear of the past repeating itself, Agent Maria Hill has no choice but to put her faith in the hope that Simza Sterling will be able to do her job.
Because right now, Hill needs to be off doing the very same.
With a hard nod, Fury's second-in-command disappears from over the railing and at once, Simza can hear her running off warnings and orders so quickly, the words all blur together as she tramps off in her heavy boots.
Immediately, Simza turns back to Banner.
"Listen to me...Bruce...We're gonna be okay. We're gonna make it." she tells him, voice shaking as she tries desperately to wrench her ankle from its trap of metal.
Her only response is another quick jerk of his head and a shudder.
So she is less and less certain when she says it again.
"We're...gonna make it..." Simza whispers.
She hopes, but it feels like a lie.
Maybe he knows.
So when Simza feels a scared, traitorous tear trickle down her cheek, she quickly brushes it away and says it one last time.
Only, this time, she clenches her hand into a tight fist and says it with all the certainty that she can muster.
"We're gonna be okay."
Then,
"This time, things can be different, Bruce. You just...have...to trust me."
And then,
Against an entirely new ticking of a time-bomb, she starts the fight for him anew.
She knows she's failed this every single time before.
But this time...
This time, she won't.
She can't.
Simza puts off going home for as long as she can.
Because what else could going back to an empty living room and too much time to think to herself possibly do but depress her?
And so, after she is finished reporting back to Fury and taking care of some other loose ends, she tries to forget herself in the rather unexciting scenes around her city, instead.
Alone at the movies, dinner at a bistro, a few light drinks at the bar...
But eventually, the heels start to kill her and the typical city cat-calls make her afraid she'll maul someone across the face, and so she has no choice but to trek back through the lonely streets and back alleys towards her apartment.
Stumbling along in a rumpled dress and too-high-heels with tendrils of her hair falling out from her once-proper do- she's been a pathetic sight all night and she knows it.
But she supposes it doesn't really matter, in the end.
Even without the power of her touch, who would want to remember her?
Sighing, Simza steps into her apartment building and as she reaches her floor and turns the corner, she fishes through her clutch for her keys, her whole body feeling as hard and heavy as lead, exhaustion burning right through her stomach, dragging her entire body down to the floor with it.
But when she arrives at her home, she makes a startling discovery.
The door.
It's...open.
And usually Simza Sterling is a smart woman. A sensible one. But just this once, the hope hits her before the suspicion does, and when she remembers that Banner still has a key of his own, she marvels at how suddenly lead can turn to something as light as air.
Biting back a bubbling laugh of wonder, she pushes the door open, practically bursts inside, shouts his name and-
First, all she sees is him, sitting in her armchair with his back turned towards her and for a second, she thinks that maybe the ticking wasn't counting down to something terrible after all.
It was counting down to something unexplainably, unspeakably just...wonderful instead.
But then, she takes another step into the room, and from behind the jutting edge of the wall, she sees them, her colleagues, staring with mouths agape and eyes wide open in terror at the sight of her.
And then she sees the gun in their hands, one pressed hard to Banner's temple as his hands grips his seat with a frightening intensity.
And then she knows she was wrong.
LJDFNGL...I'm a mess, everybody...Me and my writing both...