Chapter Twelve

"It's a bad day."

Alice looked up from her tablet. She and Bruce were sitting at the table just off the kitchen area, having what passed for breakfast on a Monday morning these days. Alice had her coffee, Bruce had his toast, but he hadn't touched it. He hadn't even put on butter or jam. He was just staring down into his glass of orange juice, a furrow on his brow. Alice put down the tablet and sat back, cradling her coffee mug in her hands to warm them. It was cold next to the bank of windows, the sky a solid steel gray. It looked like snow, maybe.

"Bad how?" she asked, lifting the mug to her lips.

The furrow in Bruce's brow deepened.

"Just...bad."

Alice considered that for a moment. She knew what a bad day was. A bad day meant a long stay in one of the special rec rooms or an isolated stint in the Dungeon. A bad day was nothing to quibble over. There was no telling what a bad day might turn into.

"Should we call it off?" she asked.

Bruce shook his head.

"No, Tony can still use the data," he said, "But...I don't want Klara in the room. Not today."

Alice nodded. "Okay."


But trying to explain a bad day to Klara was proving to be an exercise in futility.

"Look, Klara, it's noble and all, what you're trying to do," Tony said impatiently, running a hand through his hair as he fiddled with a knob on his controls, "But if Bruce says it's a bad day, I can assure you he isn't playing around."

"I understand, Mr. Stark," Klara said, her spine set stubbornly straight, "However, my point still stands. If I am truly meant to be of any use to you, or to them, then I must see all sides. Is this not what we have been striving toward, the reason for our work? Is it not for situations of this exact nature? How will we ever know the results unless we test them in controlled conditions?"

"But that's what I'm saying, nothing about these conditions are controlled," Tony said, "It's just wild, untamed, power. Unstoppable force, meet immovable object. And, trust me, you are not that object. He will tear you apart without a second thought, and Bruce will be the one living with the consequences."

"That will not happen," Klara insisted.

"That is correct," Thor said, finally speaking up, "Because you will not be in that position. It is too dangerous, Klara."

"I agree," Steve said, his arms crossed, "We have no idea how he's going to react. We can't put you in there without some kind of reasonable assurance-"

"What do you guys think I've been drilling her on for the past two weeks?" Nat asked, exasperated, "We haven't been in the gym playing durak."

"No, you've been showing her the innumerable ways she can get herself killed," Steve snapped.

Thor stiffened and his eyes narrowed. "What is this?"

"It's nothing," Klara said, a little too quickly, "Miss Romanov has been supplementing my training time."

"What's a little hand-to-hand combat between frenemies?" Nat said with a shrug, "The point is, she's not stupid. Stop treating her like she is. If it gets bad, she has the panic button and we can all come running to the rescue."

Alice caught a flicker of motion through the window where Bruce had already ensconced himself. The furrow in his brow was more prominent than usual. His fists had clenched at his sides.

"Guys...?"

"That button isn't foolproof," Tony pointed out, "If she presses it, it'll still take a few seconds to get the door open. We might not have that kind of time."

"I am willing to take the risk," Klara insisted, "It is my duty, to Dr. Banner as well as to the Hulk. We must know the limits of my influence if I am ever to be of any service."

Bruce shuddered. Alice took a step toward the glass. Sweat had beaded at his temples.

"Uh, guys..."

"Klara, no offense, but your influence is no good to us if you're dead," Steve said.

"I agree," Thor said, "There will be other times, once we understand things better, we can try to-"

Bruce gasped. His eyes shot open. Alice could almost feel his terror, like a laser through the glass.

"Guys!"

But it was too late. The others turned just in time to see Bruce shatter. He was right. It was a bad day. The Hulk was a blur of green fury, a cacophony of sound. The walls trembled with the force of him and everyone simultaneously took a step back. The concrete beneath their feet rumbled as he roared his frustration and rage.

And in the space of one giant breath, there was the hiss of a pneumatic seal.

"Klara!" Steve shouted and lunged for the door, but the girl had already slipped inside and hauled it shut behind her. The seal hissed again, airtight.

"Son of a bitch!" Tony made a dive for the control panel and scrambled furiously at the buttons. "Shit, this is exactly what I was talking about! It's at least ten seconds before the pressure normalizes enough to release."

"Out of the way!" Thor bellowed, lifting his hand as the air crackled around him.

"No!" Tony shouted, still tapping at the controls, "If you do that the whole building could come down and it still might not get the door open. Let me..."

He trailed off fingers flying. Beyond the glass, the Hulk bellowed and slammed into the glass, again and again, a flurry of movement with no defined shape. Alice couldn't see Klara. She sidled in next to Tony and pressed the comm button. The speakers resonated with the force of the creature's lungs, nearly screeching with feedback.

"Hulk!"

Klara's voice seemed tinny and small in the silence, but he turned toward it. She stood on the far side of the room, her fists clenched at her sides, her face set into a determined expression.

"Stop this, my friend," she said, "This mad rage of futility."

He snorted. And then he charged, so quick that he was little more than a smear of green on the air. Alice's breath caught in her throat. She was dead. Klara was dead, and it was Bruce who would have to live with it, with the pain, and the grief, and the inevitable guilt.

But...she wasn't dead. Not yet. Instead, she moved, ducking beneath the oncoming behemoth and slipping to the side as he ran past, slamming into the wall where she had been standing mere seconds before. She reached for him, wrapping both hands around one huge arm.

"I'm sorry," she hissed through gritted teeth.

He roared, almost as if in pain, and struck out. They could hear clearly through the speakers as Klara's body collided with the opposite wall, smacking into the barrier with a crack of blue light.

"Tony!" Steve shouted, and the door hissed open.

The thing that was not quite Bruce, but no longer entirely Hulk, moaned and writhed on the floor. Alice ran to him, Tony hot on her heels and muttering curses under his breath.

"Bruce?" Her voice was shaking as she dropped next to his withering, huddled form. "Talk to me, honey, breathe..."

He shuddered, as if shaking away the last remnants of the thing he had been, and then sucked in a gasping breath and started coughing. Tony gently shouldered his way next to her and started scanning, prodding carefully while Alice rubbed Bruce's back and made what few soothing sounds she could. Her throat felt like it had swollen shut and she pressed her forehead to his shoulder, her eyes shut tight, damming up relieved tears.

"Did I-?" he gasped, "Is she-?"

"I'm alright," Klara said, though her voice sounded pained, "Truly, I'm not hurt."

Something bubbled up in Alice then, something red, and hot, and...angry. She was on her feet and had Klara shoved up against the wall before she even realized what was happening.

"Do you have any idea?" she screamed, "Do you have any clue? Goddamnit, none of this is about you! If he had killed you, if that had happened, it wouldn't matter to you, because you would be dead! And there would be nothing I could do, nothing, to make that go away! He would carry your dead body for the rest of his goddamn life, and there would be nothing I could do!"

She was crying. Tears were streaming down her face and she let go of Klara, let her slump to the floor, and turned away. She was shaking. She could barely see Steve and Thor and Tony staring at her, could barely see the huddled form of Bruce still trembling on the floor. She started walking, out the door, out of the Dungeon, taking the stairs because she didn't want to wait for the elevator. She only made it to the third floor before she collapsed in the empty stairwell, gasping for breath, pressing her face into the cool cement steps and sobbing.


That night, despite her aches and bruises, despite her head still spinning a little when she got up too quickly, Klara found herself in the gymnasium in the late hours, in the semi-dark of the backup lighting, hands wrapped, taking shots at the swinging vinyl bag.

Jab. Jab. Cross.

She had to be faster. She had to be better. She had to be stronger. Otherwise...

None of this is about you!

Jab. Cross. Jab. Undercut.

You would be dead!

...UnderJabJabUnderJabCross...

He would carry your dead body for the rest of his goddamn life...!

...JabCrossJabJabJabJab...

What good are you, to yourself or anyone, if you are dead?

His voice rang out so clearly in the empty quiet that Klara actually spun on her heel, looking for...but she was alone. Of course, she was. She was always alone now.

She set her jaw and turned back to the swinging bag, raining blows upon it in loud staccato. She was alone because in a matter of hours she had managed to successfully alienate the only two residents of this Tower who had made any attempt at all to reconcile with her past in even the most rudimentary sense. She had never seen Captain Rogers so angry. She had never seen Alice...

...the moon knew not what might was his...the stars knew not where their stations were...

"Klara?"

She sucked in a sharp breath and stiffened, almost getting flattened by the wildly swinging practice bag for her trouble. She fumbled and caught the bag at last, steadying it as she tried to face Lord Thor with her customary straight back and set shoulders. She was painfully conscious of her appearance, of the sweat trickling down her temples, of her limp hair coming loose of its tie, of the tears that she had only now realized were streaming down her face. She swiped those away with the back of her wrapped hand, hoping it would appear to be only perspiration.

"My lord," she said, trying not to sound as if she were winded. She dropped a curtsy. "Forgive me, I... I should..."

"Klara..."

The prince's voice had softened from his initial questioning concern to a gentle tone of understanding, coaxing her to let down the guard she had so carefully constructed. She turned her face from him, though she still did not dare to turn away completely.

"I need to do better," she insisted, "If I'm to fulfill my duty, I have to be prepared for the worst."

"When did this become your duty?"

"When it became the only thing they saw that wasn't him," Klara answered and immediately felt a twinge of guilt for the bitterness of her tone. She took a steadying breath. "I must do something. How else am I to earn their trust?"

"And how do you plan to do that if you recklessly abandon your reason?" he asked, and it was so similar to what she and Loki had once shared that she winced, "Trust takes time, Klara, time that you may not have if you continue to throw yourself at danger as if it will-"

He stopped. Klara looked at him, actually met his eyes with a boldness she rarely dared.

"What?" she asked, "As if it will what?"

He looked pained.

"As if it will bring them back."

Klara considered this for a long moment. Was that what she was doing? In some secret part of her heart, was she trying to bring back all they had lost, by bringing pain upon herself? He was right, of course, that would not bring it back, any of it. It would not bring back the familiar that she had left behind in the palace of Asgard. It would not bring back his mother, who might have held answers that now she could only guess at. It would not bring back...

I swear to you, when all is done...I will return to Asgard...

She turned away and began unraveling the wrapping on her hands. She felt Lord Thor shift uneasily at her back.

"Jane has asked us to join her in London," he said as if this had been the point of their entire conversation, "For Midwinter."

The chain at her collarbone felt suddenly heavy around her neck.

Just for tonight... You need never look on them again...

"When do we leave?" she asked, trying to sound neutral, dispassionate.

"Tonight," he said, and Klara turned to him with a start, "If you're amenable. It has been agreed that your...experiments with Dr. Banner should be postponed for the holiday season."

She stiffened. So...she wasn't needed here. That was what he was telling her, that her usefulness had been wiped away, just like that, without her even being aware. She dropped her eyes demurely to the floor.

"Of course," she said, "I am always at your service, my lord."

The prince took a tentative step and put a hand on her shoulder. She did not look up.

"It will be alright, Klara," he said, "A little distance...it will help you see more clearly. And Darcy will be pleased to see you."

Klara swallowed. Darcy. That was how she knew he was truly concerned for her. Because Darcy had saved her life once. That he would bring her up at all meant he thought her life might possibly need saving again. She nodded, though her head felt heavy on her neck, and together they left the dim light of the gym behind them.


Alice woke up the next morning feeling like crap. She opened her eyes and lay very still in the dark for several moments. She didn't feel physically like crap. She wasn't getting sick or anything. She just felt...emotionally crappy. She had yelled at Klara. After working so hard to get her to open up, she had screamed in her face. She hadn't even had a good reason. Sure, Klara had been stupid, but it had all worked out, hadn't it?

She turned her head and laid her cheek on the pillow. Bruce was curled up on his side, facing her, still very much asleep. He'd been sleeping since he'd gotten to the room yesterday. He hadn't even got up for dinner. He would be starving when he finally did wake up. All Alice wanted to do was curl up next to him, to press her small body into his chest and hear his heart beating solidly in his chest. She could do it. No one would bother them, not today.

She sighed and sat up, pressing a quick kiss to Bruce's forehead before she swung out of bed. She had stuff to do today. She took a quick shower and got dressed in the dark, shutting the door to their rooms behind her without even a click. When she got on the elevator, she pressed the number for Thor's floor.

"JARVIS, is Klara up yet?" she asked as the display began to count down.

"Miss Klara is no longer in the Tower."

Alice hit the emergency stop button and the elevator slid to a gentle halt.

"What?"

JARVIS repeated himself. "Miss Klara is no longer in the Tower. Therefore, I can no longer report on her status."

"Where is she?" Alice asked, and then realized that was a dumb question. "When did she leave?"

"She and Lord Thor departed from the rooftop at 04:38 this morning," he said, "I believe they were invited to stay in London with Dr. Foster."

"Oh."

Alice felt pushed a little off-kilter by that. She hadn't expected them to just...leave. She hadn't even gotten a chance to apologize, or explain-

"Miss Ripley?" JARVIS asked, "Would you like to continue to Level 27?"

"What?" Alice asked, then shook her head, "No. No, I... What about Tony, is he in his shop?"

"Mr. Stark is indeed on Level 55," JARVIS said, "I will alter direction."

The elevator started up and in seconds Alice was stepping out of the doors and into a blast of drums and guitar riffs. Metallica? She walked around the cavernous room and found Tony on his back on the floor, a welder's helmet on, blasting a huge plate of metal to a tiny part that Alice couldn't identify. She averted her eyes until the bright blue light subsided.

"Tony?" she shouted, but her voice was barely a whisper in the noise. She rolled her eyes and kicked the bottom of his work boot with her sneaker.

He jumped and something beneath the metal behemoth clanged. Alice thought she heard the muffled sound of cursing and she crossed her arms in smug satisfaction. The music cut off and Tony emerged, covered in engine grease and rubbing his scalp with a gloved hand.

"Son of a bitch," he grumbled, "Doesn't anybody knock anymore?"

"Would you have heard me?" Alice asked.

"No," Tony said, rolling to his feet and pulling the heavy welding gloves off, "That's supposed to be the point."

"Did you know that Thor and Klara left?"

"Yeah," he said, reaching for a dirty cloth to mop at his face, "JARVIS informed me of that in the wee hours. Don't know why they couldn't have waited until a decent hour-"

"Are they coming back?" Alice interrupted, trying not to sound anxious, "I mean, how long are they supposed to be gone?"

"Beats me," Tony said, clicking a button and sending a huge diagram spiraling into the air around them, "Thor left me a message, said Jane had invited them for Christmas. So I guess at least that long."

"Oh."

Tony looked over his shoulder at her from an adjustment he had been making in his diagram.

"What, did you get Thor a Christmas present or something?"

"No," Alice said, wrapping her arms around her, "No, don't be stupid."

There was a long silence. Alice looked away, over Tony's shoulder to the diagram hovering in multicolored lights.

"So, is that Veronica?"

He grinned and let her change the subject. It didn't matter anyway. This was better.