Steve glided down the halls bypassing men and women dressed in a variety of uniforms, none of which he had seen at the facility before. He offered a pleasant smile whenever someone made eye contact with him, but no one stopped or questioned who he was or what he was doing. It made getting to Bruce's room easy, but the single mindedness of the strangers parading through the halls like a line of army ants gave Steve a shaky feeling. Their recent revelation had put Norris and his team as enemies and now it looked like their numbers were growing; the enemy's confidence so great that they didn't even consider the four a threat.

Rogers slipped into the room, letting out a small sigh of relief to be, if only in his mind, finally out of the sight of the enemy. He owed Bruce a lengthy and heartfelt apology for using the man as an unknowing distraction but seeing the dark haired doctor curled into a ball on his cot made the Captain feel even worse. "I don't want to hear it," came the muffled words through the pillow over Banner's face.

Steve shifted from foot to foot. There were no words that would erase the last few months, no actions that would take away the events of Bruce's life that he clearly wished had never happened. "Bruce." The word was almost pleading in its hollowness, hanging in the air but adding nothing to the situation. Banner's past was as clear as his own, having learned the facts of both from an impersonal off-white piece of paper. He couldn't imagine what it would be like to have lived, to have to live, with something like that; a monster always scratching at the surface, instead of demons that just existed in past memories.

The pillow flew across the room, landing silently in the corner. It was an anticlimactic ending to a gesture born of frustrated anger. In one flawless motion, Bruce twisted up and on to his feet, his hands curling into tight balls. He had to swallow hard to push back the rising anger, that feeling of losing control to something else. "No, Steve, you don't get it. If it's true, you and Tony have lives, you can have the lives that you want. I... I don't want it to be true." He was surprised that his voice was so level, feeling anything but at the moment.

He knew what Steve wanted; Tony had promised he'd return to make Bruce leave with them and now here was Rogers to put Stark's plan in motion. He couldn't begrudge the others the dream of being heroes; everyone wanted to be a hero of some type, whether to the world or just one person. He wanted to be Betty's hero. How was he supposed to be that if he was the thing that heroes stood up against? Even if he could offer some measure of good, what kind of control could he possibly have over something so volatile that would inevitably hurt those around him?

Tony had a company to go back to, a lifestyle that would accommodate his every whim no matter what it was. Steve had a certain charm that would allow him to navigate any reality and come out alright. Barton, Barton had some personal demons that seemed to live just below the surface but Bruce had a feeling that he would always land on his feet, make the best out of what he was given. In either scenario, they would be alright. This was Banner's oneshot to have a life, anything near to a normal one at that, or forever live in a green shadow. So if the world around him was a fantasy, a lie, then he was content to let the deception grow and thrive, because frankly it was more welcoming than the truth.

Steve felt himself deflate as he watched Banner's shoulders sag. "I think it is true though. As much as I wish this wasn't some elaborate scheme to facilitate some larger plot, there's just something about what Tony found that feels right. We're supposed to be a team, you're not in it alone Bruce. I think it's worth the risk to try and get that back." The words were easy, actually grabbing a hold of the idea and seeing it through, that was going to be a little harder. Everyone wants a dream ending, the happy life that can be featured on a Christmas card or the subject of some sappy feel good movie, and Norris was promising that it was just around the corner. Was the definition of insanity throwing away that possibility for something that clearly wasn't the fairytale story but offered its own rewards? Maybe the sane person would choose Norris' future even if it wasn't built on truth.

The floor rolled as a tremendous rumble bubbled up from somewhere in the facility. Both men looked at each other hoping the other had some explanation as to what caused the earth shaking disturbance. The world was eerily quiet after things settled and the sense of motion dissipated into the stillness both men sought. "That might be our cue to take our leave doctor," suggested the Captain.

Bruce closed his eyes to try and hold back the tears that threatened to fall. As much as he wanted to protect himself, there was an underlying need to support his fellow patients, his teammates, his friends. Right or wrong, there was something familiar and reassuring about running into the fray with them. Still, he needed to mourn for the life he was about to give up. "This isn't a game Steve, these are our lives."

Banner moved closer to Steve, giving his unspoken word that if Rogers led, he'd follow, despite how he was shuffling in place, seemingly ready to fall over in his unsteady movements. Steve placed a reassuring hand on the doctor's shoulder. "I know. But they're just not this Bruce. This isn't where we're meant to be." The Captain tried to give a reassuring smile, something that conveyed he had a hundred percent certainty in the path they were choosing but when everything you thought to be true was a lie it was hard to tell what was reality and what was wishful fantasy.

The blond took the lead, stepping out of Banner's room to meet up with Stark and hopefully Barton at the rendezvous spot.

Bruce took one last look around his room. Whispering into the silence he replied, "Easy for you to say, you're not a monster." He offered a silent prayer that whatever they were about to get into, it would be worth it.

There was a sense of urgency as the pair scurried down the hall. After a brief pause at Barton's room to make sure Tony had gotten Clint, they continued down the never ending corridors. Bright orange emergency lights were flashing in place of the bright fluorescents that had illuminated Norris' lies so brightly they appeared to be truth. The vast array of people that had been marching the halls earlier had disappeared, moving away from the sounds of chaos, proving to be much smarter than a pair of escaping mental patients or perhaps proving said patients to actually be insane.

The fizzle and pop of electricity behind the wall caused both men to come to an abrupt halt. The thick walls made it hard to determine exactly which side of the hall it was coming from. The loud bang that followed was almost enough to drown out the pounding of their own hearts and sharp intakes of breath.

"What are the odds that that's Tony?" asked Bruce hesitantly. Fortune hadn't favoured them so far, why would it start now? His fingers worried at the bottom of his shirt, the feel of the enforced uniform not overly reassuring even with Captain Rogers standing beside him.

"Not good," choked Steve, his eyes wide as the wall began to buckle and heave under the force of whatever was behind it causing the erratic bangs. The two unconsciously stepped back, trying to create more space between them and whatever was coming through the wall, in a space that didn't allow for a lot of space. Both were locked in place; maybe it was the superhero complex rising to the surface or perhaps sheer terror that prevented them from fleeing down the hall and away from danger.

The plaster and concrete crumbled to the floor like sand pooling on the floor in tribute of the god that stepped forth, for surely only a god could burst through reinforced walls as if they were nothing more than tissue paper. The blond behemoth paused, staring at the men before him and slowly lowered his hammer.

Steve swallowed thickly, biting the inside of his lip in anticipation of the pain that would surely becoming his way. There was no way he could put up much of a struggle against whoever was standing before them. The man, besides being large in stature, hadn't even broken a sweat yet.

Bruce sucked in a deep breath. If ever there was a time for the Hulk to be real, this would be the moment the monster would have been handy. He searched deep within himself, mentally running through his mental catalogue of distressing things, anything that would enrage him to the point of losing control. Nothing. He felt like he was pushing against a brick wall but his efforts did nothing to free the beast from captivity. It was like the cafeteria all over again, the anger pushing against the surface but unable to find release, to take its monstrous shape and color.

The deep scowl that had been on the strange looking blond before them dissolved into something friendly as his eyes lit up with recognition. Before either Steve or Bruce could dive out of the way, strong arms encircled them pulling them tightly to the stranger.

"Reality check time," hissed Bruce through clinched teeth as the life was being squeezed out of him. Steve locked eyes with him behind the larger man's back; both were firmly locked in what appeared to be a hug. "Are we being hugged by a large Viking?"

"Friends! It is good to see you alive and well," cheered Thor, finally releasing his hold on the two shocked Avengers. Both men gulped in deep breaths, finally being able to breathe once again. Worry contorted the overly happy smile as Thor added, "Your disappearance was most troubling, it is good to find you safe. Our team has been greatly lacking without your presence."

Rogers and Banner stared at each other sceptically. This had to be the punch line to the elaborate joke that had been their lives for the past four months, after all it wasn't everyday you got embraced by a Viking. "You know us?" asked the Captain, pointing to Bruce and himself.

The newest arrival looked perplexed, like perhaps he wasn't briefed on the joke after all. "We are a brotherhood forged in many a great battle and friends. If it is an apology you seek for my shortcomings in the last battle which lead to your disappearance that you seek, I humbly offer them and beg your forgiveness." The large hammer made a mild thud as Thor dropped it to the ground to bow before his two friends.

"I'm sure that's not necessary." It sounded more like a question rather than reassurance but Steve wasn't sure who he was let alone how to interpret this turn of events. If it hadn't been for the random flashes of a large blond fighting with him during the months at the institute he would have ignored that feeling of familiarity that calming his anxiety. "Listen..." Rogers waved his hand for the Asgardian to fill in the blank.

"Thor."

"Thor." He rolled the name around in his mouth finding it had a familiar feel. "We're not sure what's going on around here. In fact we don't really remember anything from beyond four months ago."

"Are we Avengers?" blurted Bruce, unable to leave the question hanging over their heads any longer.

Thor looked them over carefully. "Yes, that is what you Midgadrians refer to us as." Ignoring his friends confused looks he continued, "If you do not remember your past than you do not remember our many glorious battles and your heroic deeds or our friendship." The words were heavy and mournful. Reaching behind him, Thor pulled a round disc that was strapped to his back from under his cape. He held it out towards Rogers expectantly. "Perhaps this will help you remember yourself."

Steve stared at the shield with the star emblem proudly adorning it. His hand ghosted over it, afraid if he touched it, it would disappear into the depths of the dream he was afraid to wake up from.

A door down the hall snapped open, slamming into the wall. One of the orderlies, no longer dressed in scrubs rather black Kevlar burst into the hall with his gun drawn. Before any of the Avengers could process the situation, the Captain America shield was sailing down the hall, slamming into the enemy and knocking him out. Steve stood there frozen, hand outstretched towards the man he had just taken out without much thought.

A smile curled Thor's lips, an expression more suited to him than the former frown. "It appears you have not forgotten entirely." A large hand clapped Steve on the back causing him to stumble forward.

It was like a damn breaking; images of familiar people and places working together as a team ran through his Rogers head like a movie on fast-forward. They moved too fast to properly absorb them all but the brief glimpses and flashes made the formerly imaginary world seem entirely possible and despite previous notions, worth living in. The welcomed feeling of peace and wholeness was interrupted as a group of men stormed the hallway, their weapons mostly trained on Thor, but the Captain had a sinking suspicion they were all fair game.

The bullets started flying and Thor shoved both Rogers and Banner through the door he had created. "Wait here my friends," commanded the Asgardian, whirling his hammer as he charged the intruding men.

"Now might be a good time to get angry," suggested Steve, leaning closer to Bruce who was on the floor next to him watching in awe as Thor single headedly held his own against the men.

Banner furrowed his brow. "Believe me, I've been trying but nothing is happening. Maybe they were wrong about me or something they've been giving me is suppressing him," he huffed. The little voice in the back of his head screamed they had the right person but for some reason he just couldn't produce the results. The memories of his life before the facility danced just out of reach but the feelings were assaulting him just fine. Part of him had been dreaming of being able to control the Hulk and based on what he had read in Tony's papers he knew he would desperately still want that. But the fact remained the monster that he had worked so hard to deny was the one things that could get them all out of there and he wasn't coming out to play.

Thor popped is head into the room his teammates were in, having dealt with the threat which was nothing more than annoying rather than intimidating. The situation was disheartening to know that had his friends been of sound mind, this place of deceit would not have kept them away for so long. To realize they were so close yet their condition kept them so far, he could only hope that whatever had been done to deprive them of their memories was temporary. "We should take our leave of this place and rendezvous with our SHIELD brethren."

"What about Tony and Clint?" threw out Bruce, climbing to his feet and dusting off his pants.

"I will aid Natasha in her search for them after I see you two out of this place," state Thor. It was a promise with enough heartfelt sincerity that both men felt they could trust in it, that their other friends would not be forgotten or sentenced to endure the falseness of their constructed lives any longer.

Steve started to move with Thor down the hall but stopped as he realized that Banner wasn't with them. He turned and looked at the doctor who was shifting his weight nervously from foot to foot as he stared at the neatly written words on the wall with hesitation. Bold yellow lettering, coupled with a line trailing down to the wall, served to guide visitors to the lobby, main door, and in turn, freedom. That focus of the Doctor, however, was on the blue wording, whose line lead further into the facility. It led towards the medical examination room, which was the only place that would provide answers and resources to Bruce's personal concern. "I'm sorry," he apologized, "but I can't leave yet. If they do have something to keep the monster away I have to find it."

Steve watched in horror as Banner turned and ran down the hall away from them. He moved to follow but Thor's hand curled around his arm. "I will return for him but we have to leave now. We must report back and see if Natasha has returned yet." The you're not up to a hundred percent was left unspoken and Steve complied more out of not wanting to be a burden to Thor and possibly getting the man injured because of his lack of knowledge right now, than a willingness to runaway.


Natasha held her breath as she waited for the patrol to pass. Normally it wouldn't have been a problem, but her resources were not the best at the moment. Tony wasn't much help in his current state and Barton was nothing if not a liability as he slipped in and out of confused consciousness. There was more pressure to make sure everything went smoothly, she couldn't risk anything happening to them now that she had found them and if anything happened to her, Tony and Clint would pay for it.

The people running the facility were definitely on to them and while SHIELD had sent reinforcements to engage, there were still enough people to search for the missing captives.

"Mmmm, no stop," slurred Clint, his head lulling to the side. The slumped figure resting against Stark's chest blinked a few times but his glossy eyes refused to focus.

Natasha's sharp eyes focused on her partner propped against the bookcase in front of her, Stark hovering behind her right shoulder. "Shhhh," she silently soothed, hoping the passing men wouldn't hear his moans.

The archer let out another groan only to be muffled by Romanoff's hand clamping firmly over his mouth. The formerly listless eyes widened with fear as desperate hands weakly clawed at the hand. Panic set in, his dull senses unable to read the situation. He tried to suck in a deep breath but couldn't pull in any air around the oppressive hand.

Natasha reluctantly pressed her hand down harder as she caught one of the guards stop out of the corner of her eye. Clint was responding as if she had cut off his airway, even though her hand wasn't pressing that hard. It tore at her heart a little to watch him believe that she would intentionally hurt him, especially when she was displaying a gentleness reserved only for him. Stark also looked concerned as he held on tightly to keep Barton from moving around too much.

"Stay here," hiss Natasha, still keeping her voice low. Silently she moved flawlessly away from them, positioning herself to get a better angle on the guard that was back tracking to check the rooms they had originally bypassed. In a flash of red hair and black leather the threat was neutralized with barely a sound.

"We need to get out of here before his friends notice he's missing," stated Black Widow in a tone that left no room for argument. Tony nodded, moving to sling Clint's arm over his shoulder when the archer twisted, shoving Stark hard.

The billionaire sat there stunned as he watched Clint scramble back, crashing into the desk that had been in the middle of the office they had taken refuge in. The contents decorating the top of the desk came crashing down around the man with now wild eyes, his chest heaving as objects slammed against the ground. In an impressive show of sudden coordination, Barton grabbed a letter opener from the floor, clutching it close to his chest and scrambled around the desk until his back was pressed tight in the corner of the room. He sat there panting heavily, the movement sapping any strength he had managed to summon.

Tony felt his stomach sink. Clearly Norris had been a little overzealous with his 'touch up' procedure undoing everything the archer had gained since entering Tony's life. Things were spiralling further out of normal and Stark needed to have someone in his corner, someone who could relate and now it seemed that Barton would be back at square one. The fear in those eyes, the ones that held an underlying belief that they were more than their brand of craziness, that's what began to chip away at Tony.

"Hey Barton," pacified Stark, raising his hands in a nonthreatening gesture, "I know you're not going to believe me right now but I'm here to help."

Clint just glared at the man carefully edging closer to him. His fingers curled instinctively around the letter opener, his muscles twitching with the need to embed it in anyone that got too close. Everything was a jumble with no clear sense of who or what was around him except for some inherent need to get away, that danger was present and going to inflict more pain upon him. The man before him seemed nonthreatening but looks were deceiving. Clint's eyes darted to the door and possibly his one chance to get away. If he could just escape, find some place alone to think to try and clear the fuzz that had replaced his thoughts, he might be able to piece things together, to figure out who he was and what was going on.

Clint was just about ready to spring into action when an arm snaked around his throat, another pulling his head back against the others chest. He clawed at the black leather trying to get to skin, to inflict some pain of his own so the deceitfully strong arm would let him go, let him take a breath of air to dispel the dizziness and the grey invading his thoughts.

"What are you..." protested Tony, his brow creasing in fear and frustration as Natasha slipped out of the shadows behind Barton, locking him in a choke hold. When had the assassin even moved to get behind the archer? Her death glare silenced the inventor and he sat there silently trying not let the image of Clint trying desperately to get free be burned into his mind.

"He was going to bolt," offered Romanoff as she gently laid Barton on the floor. It was a stark contrast to the her previous action and Tony had to admit he was a little frightened at just how easily she could go from, not quite sweet, but defiantly gentle with Clint, to cold and calculating in the blink of an eye.

"If he got away from us, he'd either alert the enemy or disappear and we'd never be able to find him." Natasha stood up, motioning for Stark to carry the downed man. It had been necessary but she still didn't like having to do that to her friend, especially when it appeared that his trust was going to have to be earned all over again. She silently hoped that whatever these people had done it wasn't permanent; Natasha wasn't sure she could handle a Clint that didn't trust her. "It was for his own good."

Tony nodded, throwing Clint over his shoulder. There was a certain sort of logic behind Natasha's claim but she didn't have to look Clint in the eye as he thought the life was being choked out of him.

Natasha peeked out the door to make sure the coast was clear. Thick billowing smoke was filling the hallway, dimming the lights and hiding the doors. She turned back to the men she came to rescue; the mission suddenly taking another turn through difficult. "We need to hurry," she said, locking eyes with Stark, searching to make sure he understood the implication of making a mistake now.

He nodded and waited for her to take the lead. If this was what being a superhero was, he was definitely wasn't cut out for this and Barton was either going to have to drop some muscle or he was going to have to hit the gym more often if saving Clint's ass was a common occurrence.


Bruce let out a chest deep cough, the thick smoke choking him with each breath. A smart person would leave, and even smarter person would have left with Thor and Steve in the first place but Banner needed to know. What memories he did have of the Hulk were ones of not being in control, or those he cared about being hurt and being helpless to stop it. If this nightmare of a reality was true, then the last four months had plenty of opportunity for the monster to unleash itself and yet he hadn't made an appearance. Bruce would have remembered that and even if Norris' procedures could successfully erase memories, the others would have noticed a large green beast at breakfast.

If these people had found a way to suppress the Hulk, then maybe something good could be pulled from this mess, a silver lining to take away from the hellish experience: the gift of control. He needed this, if he couldn't have the world he had been working towards for the last four months, he need that at least. The others may not understand, their gifts and talents making them useful, allowing them to do good, what good could come from uncontrollable rage?

Bruce suppressed a shudder as he glanced around the lab. Vague memories of being strapped down to that chair and pain tickled every nerve in his body. Focusing in on the computer instead, he began his search, his eyes burning from the smoke. He wasn't sure when the heat had snuck up on him, sweat starting to run down his face as his fingers flew over the keyboard. Part of him wished Tony was there, the man would be able to find what he needed much faster.

Bruce had to put his hand on the desk and brace himself from the dizziness rapidly descending upon him. The air was getting thin and his vision fuzzy, but he was almost there; he'd found his file, it was only a matter of finding the right report.

He curled over as a coughing fit rattled his chest painfully, clean air a luxury no longer present. Banner felt the world slipping away as he toppled from his chair only to be caught in someone's strong grip.

"Banner, we must go now," insisted Thor, pulling the man back to his feet.

Bruce mumbled something unintelligible, his tongue thick and uncooperative but the implication must have come across because the blond looked regretfully at the computer.

Thor scowled at the computer, another Midgardian trick he had yet to crack. He didn't have the touch that Stark seemed to possess when dealing with the temperamental and sensitive creations. His last attempt to view the web that they spoke of had resulted in a sparking heap of scrap metal on Tony's living room floor with a lifelong ban never to touch his things again. Whatever answers Bruce desperately sought, he could not help the doctor retrieve them.

"Ney. I am sorry my friend but it is too dangerous to stay any longer." The apologetic tone was the last thing Bruce heard before he succumbed to the darkness.

Thor crouched close to the ground, Banner secure in his arm. With his free hand he twirled his hammer, building up enough momentum to pull them free of the building. Breaking out into the cold night air, they shot from the building just as a series of explosions brought the structure to its knees.