Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

Thank you to my beta, WithinHerHeart :)

Chapter 10

The coffee maker whirled to life, steam moving in indescribable patterns before Bruce's eyes. He ran his hands nervously over his trouser clad thighs, and glanced towards the woman beside him. Dahlia was sat on one of the plastic chairs that had been built in the rec room, her hands already nursing her own cup. She just seemed to stare out into space, stare into nothingness, as she chewed steadily on her bottom lip. It was obvious she was just as affected by this 'days of your life' style conversation as he was.

The hot brown liquid poured easily into the polystyrene cup and Bruce held onto it like a lifeline, soaking in the heat and trying to draw strength from it. After all, he'd never really had to have this conversation before. He should have told her to read his file, should have just read hers, so they didn't have to have this awkward encounter, but…for some reason, he wanted to be the one to explain it to her. He'd seen the file on himself, had seen the way they phased things and the events they had documented. She'd be terrified of him, if she read it, but, like this, in a face to face conversation, he could explain it all to her, could tell her truth of what happened rather than the S.H.I.E.L.D version.

So he did. Bruce didn't look her in the eye, or even give a warning for the beginning of the conversation. He just stared into the cup of coffee, forcing his eyes to follow the swirls and patterns on the surface of the liquid, and just talked.

He talked about his father, a great atomic physicist but a devastating parent, lacking all love and compassion for his only son. He talked about how his mother had been killed by him – of course, he couldn't remember much of the time, but he relayed what he could because now that the floodgates were open, he was finding it impossible to stop. He talked about how the failed bomb beneath his high school and the expulsion that followed, had led to his recruitment by the US Military, who helped him get his doctorate. He talked about the accident; how they had been trying to recreate Dr. Eskine's serum, the one that had been used to turn Steve Rogers into Captain America, and how he believed that gamma rays were the answer; how the solution was untested and they were unsure of the effects on human participants; how Bruce had offered himself up for experimenting to ensure that no innocent was put in danger, and how it had backfired. How he had become Hul- the Other Guy.

"But I haven't had any accidents, not for a year now," he quickly assured her, "I have a tight lid on it, but that doesn't mean that people aren't wary about being around me – and vice versa." He finished with a sigh.

Silence fell over them. For a moment, Bruce thought that she had already left, that she had gone long before he had finished, and didn't want to look up to check. And then a hand pressed against the back of his neck. His heart lurched uncomfortably, and his head snapped upwards to, finally, meet her gaze.

"Bruce…" she muttered out softly, and he could easily see the empathy and pity reflected in her eyes, "…I'm so sorry. I can't even imagine…" she took in a shuddered breath, "Thank you, for telling me."

"I wanted you to know," Bruce admitted lowly. He felt her fingers stroke the hair at the base of his neck, pressing against the knot he hadn't even realized was there firmly. He felt the tension drain from him and let out a small breath.

"I'm not even going to pretend that I know what you went through, but, um, I know a little bit about fathers who were brilliant scientists but bloody awful fathers," she offered. She continued when Bruce gave her a questioning look, "I've already told you about my parents, and my sister, right? But I didn't tell you it was my father that caused my accident. Um, I was six when it happened. At that time, my mother still liked to make play that we were this perfect, happy family and insisted that we all eat dinner as a family. This was right at the beginning of my father's contract with the British Military, so he was pretty much lost to the world, and when I went down to fetch him for dinner, he didn't even notice I was there. He was testing this new device, some weapon that would be able to cut through anything – human flesh and bone, concrete, the thickest steel doors imaginable – with just a single click. The idea was to mutate the cells of objects to get them to bend to your will, but instead they mutated…me."

"How? I mean, uh, were you alright?"

Dahlia shrugged. "Third degree burns over 40% of my body, some scarred tissue and a lot of cuts in my arms and stomach but, yeah, for the most part. I didn't find out that it had done anything to me until I was ten and, um – okay, you see, by this time my dad's funding had been cut, but he was so desperate in the belief that he could get everything to work that he found other ways of getting money. Betting was one way and that worked for a while, but it was too long and he was losing more than he was winning, so he tried taking a loan out from some very dodgy people. When he couldn't pay them back, they took me as a warning. Nothing really happened," she reassured, "but I remember being scared, so scared, and then there was this crashing around me and I didn't know what was happening – I was told later that the warehouse they had been holding me in had collapsed in on itself, that I was lucky to be so unharmed because two of my kidnappers had died upon impact, and three were in ICU. That was when I first fell onto S.H.I.E.L.D's radar. Because they'd figured it out. I'd done that; I'd caused that building to fall and to kill those men, me."

"They'd taken you, tried to hurt you. You shouldn't blame yourself for-"Bruce started to comfort, but she interrupted.

"That's not even the worst thing," Dahlia told him, "When I was 18 – I'd moved to New York by this point – I had my first boyfriend. I loved him, or at least, that's what I managed to convince myself I did. I thought he would be it, you know, which sounds even more foolish now that I've said it out loud," she laughed almost bitterly, shaking her head, "And I found out he had been cheating on me. I'd needed to drop by his apartment on my way home from work – I'd left my uni notes on his kitchen table and I really needed them for the next day – and he was in bed, with this girl, Lucy, who I worked with. He didn't even try to deny it or defend himself or anything. He just…carried on, as if I wasn't even there. And god, it hurt. It hurt so badly, I couldn't even stand it. I remember running from his apartment and leaving the building – and then there's just this crash and bang, and all this screaming." She went silent, as if reliving the moment.

"Dahlia…" Bruce found himself whispering soothingly, reaching out for her hand. He was surprised by the ferocity that she held onto it, her nails slightly imbedding in the skin on the back of his hand.

"I brought the building down," she admitted quietly. "I didn't even – I was upset, I didn't want anyone else to be hurt because of it. There were 75 people in that building when it fell. 30 died instantly, including my ex and his new girlfriend; 20 died in hospital, succumbing to their injuries; and the rest survived, 3 with long lasting effects. There were children in that place Bruce, and I… that's when S.H.I.E.L.D found me. I thought they were going to lock me up, punish me, anything, but they didn't. They offered me a way to control it and a job where I could help protect people, and I took it." Dahlia sniffed and her lips twisted into something akin to self-loathing, "I'm sorry. It's stupid being this upset about something, especially when you compare it to what happened to you."

"Then don't compare it," Bruce told her, "I haven't. Our pasts are different but that doesn't mean one has any more validity over the other. It doesn't make it stop hurting."

Dahlia squeezed his hand tightly and nearly smiled when he returned the gesture. She gently released her hold; just enough to remove her nails from his skin and make it more comfortable. The edge of her thumb traced over his knuckles, falling into dips and grooves, and the calloused pads of his fingers on the palm of her hand made her shiver. Just for that moment, it was as if there were just them, silently wallowing in their own memories, embittered at their past and sympathetic to the history of the other.

And then Natasha showed up.

"Stark's asking for his coffee," her voice, laced with mirth and smugness, popped the bubble that they had surrounded themselves in. Automatically, they moved apart, withdrawing their hands into their laps, head pivoting to face the redheaded assassin. Natasha arched a questioning eyebrow and Dahlia's eyes narrowed in return.

Bruce stood up, suddenly flustered, and muttered something about getting Tony his coffee. His hands flittered around the buttons on the machine before it whirled to light once more. Dahlia stood up carefully, offering the man a small smile, and followed her self-satisfied friend from the rec room.

"What was it that you said about Dr. Banner?" Natasha teased.

"What was it that you said about Agent Barton?" Dahlia mimicked. The two shared a knowing smile and didn't need to say anything else. After a few seconds of walking, the English woman frowned slightly, peering around her curiously. "Where are we going?"

"Director Fury has asked me to interrogate the prisoner," she responded, a professional tone over taking her voice.

"Loki?" Dahlia's feet stuttered to a stop slightly before picking up speed again. "Um, why?"

"He's one step ahead of us, and Fury wants me to find out what he knows," Natasha shrugged, "We can't be unprepared."

She nodded understandingly, fighting the urge to raise her hand and nibble the ends of her fingers. She didn't want to be afraid anymore, she couldn't afford to be. She hadn't had the chance to confront him in New Mexico and she'd suffered because of it. She knew what she had to do, even if she would rather do anything else. She swallowed heavily and clenched her hands into fists before relaxing again.

"Can I join you?" she managed to force out.

Natasha gave her a disbelieving look.

"Please?"

A/N: Hey readers! I am seeking assistance! Dahlia needs a superhero name, especially for the big battle at the end, but I'm at a loss for ideas, so I was hoping maybe the internet could help me. I'll make it worth your while: the best name will be featured in this story towards the end