Vital Communication Chapter 12

Disclaimer – the song's been stuck on repeat, help!

AN – phone text is again in italics; PS, drama incoming. Also, ramping up the posting schedule so that this next section is resolved before Christmas. Hopefully!


By the time of the dinner meeting, Clint had returned with Steve, bringing nearly the entire team back together. Bruce was slightly overwhelmed by the show of solidarity for this 'little' problem.

He stood in the kitchen, exhausted from earlier, making stewed chicken and roti for dinner and listening to the others catch up on what they'd been up to. They took the time over dinner to explain to Steve what had happened and what they expected to accomplish now. Bruce managed to escape back to his rooms during dessert, citing a rare headache, needing the distance from the others for a bit. He elected to take a soothing bath and read for the rest of the night to relax and regroup. But as he was drawing that bath, JARVIS interrupted.

"Dr. Banner, I apologize for interrupting your relaxation, but I have a forwarded message from the Stark Tower switchboard for you," the AI informed him in apologetic, crisp tones.

"Oh? Please play the message, JARVIS," Bruce replied, distractedly, rummaging through his collection of essential oils for something to add to the bath water. JARVIS complied. Bruce stilled as soon as the first word was spoken.

"Bruce? Oh I hope this reaches you. I saw the Hulk on the news with that alien invasion. Please, if you can, let me know that you're all right?", it was the voice of Betty Ross, his former lover and co-worker at New Mexico. Daughter of his nightmare. He barely remembered to turn off the taps before sinking to the floor, completely stunned. Betty, wanted to hear from him?

"JARVIS?" he whispered, hardly able to speak, "Is there a number?"

"I forwarded that to your private line, Doctor," was the AI's quiet, supportive reply.

"Thank you." Now, did he call her back now, or wait? It took him ten minutes to gather the confidence to leave his bathroom to find his Starkphone and search for the number Betty had called from. He pressed the call button and sat on the edge of the bed to listen to the phone ring.

It rang three times before someone picked up. "Hello?" It was Betty. Bruce's breath hitched just a moment.

"Hello Dr Ross," Bruce formally greeted in reply. Did he still have the right to be familiar with her? He truly didn't know, it had been too long.

"Bruce? Oh my God! Are you okay? Where are you?", she had been crying, he could tell. Her voice was hoarse.

"I'm okay, Betty. And I'm still in Manhattan, at a friend's," he hedged. What she didn't know would keep everyone safe from her father.

"Bruce, please, I need to see you. Can we meet somewhere?", she pleaded with him.

"I, I suppose Betty. But I'm not real familiar with Manhattan. Haven't gotten out much since the attack," he agreed almost immediately, some part of him needing something about Betty he was unsure of. He knew he still loved her, but thought she was still afraid of the Hulk, and therefore kept his distance. Maybe they could try again.

Betty suggested a place, giving him an address to give to a cabbie. They agreed to meet in 90 minutes, which gave Bruce plenty of time to clean up and change. He chose to text Tony about his meet as he left his rooms and took the elevator to street level.

Going out for a few hours to meet an old friend. Don't wait up – Bruce

Wait, what? - Tony

Something outside of Avengers and Stark Industries, Tony. It'll be fine. - Bruce

You sure, Green Genes? - Tony

YES, Tony. Stop mother-henning. Talk to you tomorrow. - Bruce

Huff. Be that way. Cya Greenie. - Tony

Bruce pocketed his phone as he flagged down a cab, smiling. Tony wasn't upset, just being a little over protective. Bruce didn't need that right now. He gave the driver the address and settled into the back of the cab for the ride.

Thirty minutes later, the cab pulled up in front of a bar that looked run down in an otherwise high rent area. Bruce wondered if it was a landmark or something of that nature, as he paid the cabbie and strolled across the sidewalk to the entrance. He was meeting Betty at the bar, and chose a stool near the back so he could easily keep an eye on the entrance.

"What'll you have?" the bartender asked him when he was settled.

"Vodka tonic," Bruce ordered, just to keep the peace. The one drink should keep him for the entire length of his meeting. Betty arrived right after his drink was placed before him.

"Bruce!", she happily cried, holding her arms open to elicit a hug from the stocky physicist.

"Betty!", Bruce replied, sliding off his barstool to give her that hug. "How are you?"

"Better, now that we're here. Bruce, how did you get involved in that attack?", she sounded frightened, even though the invasion was two months passed.

"Friends in weird places," Bruce said. He didn't want to reveal his association with SHIELD, or with Tony just yet. Though the news coverage had shown Iron Man in all its red and gold glory, Bruce wasn't sure how obvious it was that everyone had been working together as a team. Betty took a moment to get a drink from the bartender.

"So what have you been doing with yourself since Culver, Bruce?", she asked, sipping the dry, white wine she'd asked for.

"Well, I took up humanitarian work. Assisted in Haiti after the earthquake* there, then some travel around the Caribbean before heading for India," he explained. Bruce left some locales out, areas of conflict that he felt would just make Betty worry more than she needed to, Somalia, and Bosnia.

"Even though you never finished the medical program, you are getting use out of those skills?", she asked.

"It makes up for..." he trailed off. She knew, and reached out to touch him sympathetically on the hand. He gave a wistful smile in return.

"So tell me about you," he requested. She talked about what she'd been up to, having taken a teaching position at SUNY. She'd been seeing Major Glen Talbot, but he'd been deployed recently to North Korea. That info both depressed Bruce, and pleased him. At least she was happy, and that, was most important to him and Hulk.

They talked for awhile and Bruce actually finished his drink, which surprised him. "Want another?", Betty asked.

"Sure, if you don't mind, while I take care of business?", he laughed, excusing himself. She smiled and agreed.

While he was gone, Betty signaled the others in the crows, along with the bartender. "It had better be now, or his metabolism will neutralize the first half of the sedative," she told the man. He nodded, mixing Bruce's new drink from very specific bottles.

When he came back, the new drink waited innocently on the bar, and Betty was still smiling for him.

"You haven't told me how you got the Hulk involved in the invasion, Bruce," she prompted.

"Ah, that. Well, it was a short term thing, I guess," Bruce was nervous. The team was supposed to keep a low profile, but he wanted no profile in comparison. He clutched his drink and took a large gulp of it to soothe his nerves.

"Heh, I think I'd better switch to water," he said, voice suddenly slurring. Betty's attention sharpened, her eyes carefully tracking his face.

"Betty? What was in that?", Bruce knew something was wrong. But betrayal? From Betty?

"It's okay Bruce. Daddy wants to see you. This will keep everyone safe. Glen promised," she said, patting his shoulder. That word. She never called ol'Thunderbolt, "Daddy", either "Dad", or, since New Mexico, Father or even, General.

In his head, he distantly heard Hulk roaring, frustrated. It felt like the Big Guy was trying to come through a pool of molasses, while dragging a tank behind him. All his reactions were slow, and he was getting sleepy.

"No Betty. Your father..." Bruce began, but lost consciousness, and slipped from the barstool to the ground.

Betty turned on her stool and waved at her companions, calling them over. "Be gentle with him, boys. Daddy actually wants him whole and completely undamaged," she ordered. Three burly men reached the bar and bent down to wrestle the dead weight of Banner's body up between them and drag him out the back. Betty looked at the bartender, "General Ross thanks you for your service, soldier. You're a true patriot." And she slid a twenty across the bar to him. It was folded over a beige envelope that the bartender pocketed after depositing the twenty in the til and separating out his tip.

The men handling Bruce got him out the back and restrained into a nondescript gray, panel van. Betty soon joined them, taking the passenger seat. She instructed the driver to leave.

It would be halfway through the next day before Bruce was missed at Stark Towers.


Well, I think this is our first cliffy. *sniff* What a milestone. See you in a few days (Friday?) with Chapter 13, when shite gets real nasty.

** - the 2010 earthquake in Haiti, for a frame of reference.