She waited just under a minute before she grew anxious and opened the unlocked door slowly. She stuck her head in and looked around the bare room to see Bruce not there. She then looked down the hallway to see if anyone was coming. The hallway was empty and with a quick decision, she went into his room, leaving the door partially cracked. She looked around the beige room in earnest, taking in every detail. There was a bookshelf to her right and as she walked up to it, she saw some of her favorites: The Odyssey and The Iliad, Jane Eyre and Wuthering Heights. There was also what looked like a very old copy of Shakespeare's sonnets. She pushed her tongue out; she hated poetry. She wandered to the other side of the room, opening the dark curtains to let in the light. She blinked against the glare but with a look around the room, she decided that it was a lot better brighter.

Realizing that she still had the folder, she thought about what to do with it. She could leave it in here, either on the bed or the nightstand, but then he would know that she's been here. Then again, if she couldn't find him anywhere, it should be all right to leave it here, right? Right. She walked over to the small table, seeing a glass of water like last time, a small lamp and the tiniest potted plant that was greatly under-watered. She took the glass of water and dumped it in the pot, seeing the soil turn to a dark brown with slight delight. She set the folder on his bed absentmindedly, thinking about what happened the first time she saw his room. Glancing once more towards the door and finding that she was still alone, she opened the table's top drawer carefully, bending down to rest on her knees as she looked inside. Upon first glance, she saw that it was just an ordinary drawer. There was a book turned upside down, a few papers folded up and stacked neatly next to it, and two bottles of pills closest to her. Gingerly, she picked up a pill bottle, reading the label. It had his name on it and she sighed with relief when she saw that it was just sleeping medication. She didn't know what else it could've been.

Darcia sat the first bottle down and grabbed the second one, which was considerably lighter than the other one. Her eyes widened when she noticed the familiar name of an antidepressant. She was so confused, her thoughts running everywhere. Why was he depressed? Did he really have to be taking medication to be happy? Couldn't he just get someone to make him happy? She understood his problem but didn't see why he had to be medicated for it. She felt sick. She's always hated when people took medication for something as (how she saw it) little as this. He could be happy. She was sure of it. She could make him happy. She threw the bottle down in the drawer and seeing it hit the book, she sighed, putting it back in its place. Her eyes lingered on the book, wondering why it wasn't on the shelf like the others. She picked it up, looking at the potted plant as she did so, then turned it around to read the cover. Dante's Divine Comedy. It was a fairly new book and as she flipped through the bookmarked pages, she noticed that he was in the Inferno section, Canto XXXII. She read the parts that were underlined in pencil:

Livid, as far down as where shame appears,

Were the disconsolate shades within the ice...

Their eyes, which first were only moist within,

Gushed o'er the eyelids, and the frost congealed

The tears between, and locked them up again...

And one, who had by reason of the cold

Lost both his ears, still with his visage downward...

Then I beheld a thousand faces, made

Purple with cold; whence o'er me comes a shudder,

And evermore will come, at frozen ponds.

She stared at the page, wondering why Bruce had taken such care to underline those parts of the Inferno. She had said something about the final circle being freezing, but did he try to see if she was right? Or was he just curious? Maybe he already knew it. She shook her head. It doesn't matter. She closed the book, looking down to put it back and promptly dropped it. Her mouth opened in shock and disbelief, her hand shaking as she reached down to touch what the book was hiding. A gun. She touched it hesitantly, her breath coming out in a shaky whisper. She picked it up gently with two fingers, letting it dangle in front of her face before she got a better hold on it. She held it like she was ready to shoot, getting to her feet and examining it. It was just a 35 mm pistol but she had enough experience with guns to tell that it was loaded. A fleeting quote shot through her mind from a movie she once saw: "That is what happens when you sit behind a desk. You forget things, like the weight in the hand of a gun that's loaded and one that's not."

Antidepressants. A handgun. A book about a man's journey into hell. She wanted to throw up. "Oh god, oh god," she breathed, trembling. Why in the world would Bruce need this?

"...in case you needed to kill me, but you can't! I know! I tried! ...I got low. I didn't see an end, so I put a bullet in my mouth...and the other guy spit it out."

That's what she heard at least. She didn't believe it at the time but now she couldn't think anything but. "By Gaea..."

"So now you know."

Darcia gasped, swinging around, holding the gun towards the intruder. She nearly dropped it when she saw Bruce at the door, one hand on the doorknob and a cup of tea in the other one. "I-I-"

"No, you needed to know," he said, walking to her and setting the mug on the table. His eyes glanced between the water glass and the plant before he took a small step back, looking at her. He took the gun from her easily, ripping his gaze from hers to the firearm. He handled it with ease, loaded it properly, readying it. Darcia stared at his face, watching how his emotions flickered like a flame from a candle. He was torn, pain and regret showing plainly, overcoming the helplessness. "I've had a few rough times in my life, Darcia." Without warning, he shoved it into the drawer quickly, forcefully, not caring that it could've easily gone off. He stared at it with something she couldn't quite place, speaking lowly. "I keep it to feel safe. It won't work but it...it keeps me calm, I guess." Darcia couldn't keep the worry off her face as she looked at him. He shut the drawer, ignoring the pills, though he must have known she'd seen it. "I would've rather told you instead of you finding out like this."

"I don't have fingerprints," she breathed, showing him her hands. He looked at her confused. "They were taken off of me years ago. Only Tony, Natasha, my father and now you know. You're not the only one who's had rough times, Bruce."

"What...what?" he asked, blinking from her speaking so quickly, still processing what she said.

"Yeah, the Joker took them off when I was held hostage. I was taking a trip to Gotham City to visit my friend (coincidentally named) Bruce because he wanted to do a charity thing with me and I was in the wrong place at the wrong time. I barely escaped with my mind in tact."

Bruce was at a loss for words. "I...I'm sorry. I don't know..."

There was silence for all but two minutes as they stared at each other. She brought her hand down, speaking at last, "No, I'm sorry. You should know though. We've all had rough times. Everyone does. I thought about killing myself when I was held hostage. But I got through...with a little help." She was silent, looking away, lost in her thoughts. She glanced back at him after a few seconds. "Anyway, it wasn't my business. The whole...snooping thing. I'm sorry...I was...I was just looking for you. The-the folder."

Bruce glanced at it, completely uninterested. "I'm sorry for the other night," he finally whispered, not looking her in the eye.

She felt her eyes glaze over with tears, but it wasn't because of what happened that night. "I understand. Increased heart rate, inebriation and everything."

He looked at her. "Tony told you." When she nodded, he just sighed, sitting down on his bed and covering his face with his hands. "It's been so long. And you're so beautiful. I could never deserve you."

"No," she said, shaking her head and dropping to her knees again, looking up at him. His hands left his face, confused. "You don't understand yourself. You're so unbelievably sexy but you won't see that. You don't see the small things you do that...that make me lose my breath." She was blushing by now. "God, I'm not used to this."

"To what?" he asked, his tone somewhat incredulous.

She looked away. "To...to having to describe my feelings!" she stared him in the eye. "I've never had to...literally get on my knees and tell you that I like you more than I should since we've just met. But you're brilliant and handsome and, and Jesus, I don't know how to do this."

Bruce was silent, at a loss for words, it seemed. "Why?" he asked finally, blushing a light pink.

"I can't explain it. You're not like the others I've been with." He unconsciously made a face, so she corrected herself. "I prefer that. They're all so full of themselves and they only cared about my money or my status...and you, you don't care about that."

Bruce looked down, fighting with himself internally. "I don't belong in your world. I'm not like those other guys."

"I don't want them, Bruce. I want you," she murmured, tears threatening to spill even more so.

He was silent for a long time and with each passing second, she accepted the denial, tears falling from her eyes. Finally, he opened his mouth to speak and he held her utter attention, still leaning on her knees in front of him. "You could never be happy with me," he said, blinking quickly, as if stopping tears. "You would always live in a state of fear. Constant fear, Darcia." He looked at her, his eyes glossy. "You could get too close and I might lose control. You could die. I've...killed so many people." There was a brief pause. "I wouldn't be able to live with myself if something happened to you."

"I can take care of myself," she breathed, trying to convince him. "I'm smart, Bruce. Not as smart as you, but I can handle it. Trust me. You can't trust yourself but you can trust me." She stalled, then added quietly, "Please."

"I..." Hate seemed to fill him as he said this, self-hate, begrudging. His mind was betraying his heart. "I can't do that to you." Her heart fell in her chest even further, a sob escaping her lips. "Can I...can I just say 'no' to you? I just...can't..."

She coughed, forcing the rest of the tears back. She knew she looked like a wreck as she stood up, looking at the floor. "Fine...of course. I...of course," she whispered, nodding to herself and taking a step back. "Well I'll just be going then...it was..." she smiled, heartbroken, looking at the plant. "Don't forget to water your plant. You should put it by the window, too."

"The thing is..." he started, not acknowledging the last part. "with you, you'd be in real danger. And I haven't had as much...as much experience as you. I wouldn't know what to do. The Hulk wouldn't be able to handle your lifestyle."

"Wow," she whispered. "This is...it really is real, isn't it?"

He stood up and she took a step back, guarded. He gave a sad smile. "I've lived in huts...you've lived in mansions. Everyone in the world knows who you are, they only know the monster in me."

They looked at each other and she matched his smile, her eyes openly hurt. "Fine," she nodded. "Fine, good decision. Good decision" She took a few steps toward the door before turning back around, looking at him directly, a grim expression set on her lips. "The fame thing isn't really real, you know. It doesn't matter," she paused. "And don't forget...I'm also just a girl standing in front of a boy...asking him to love her.*" Her voice cracked at the last part as they stared at each other. She couldn't take it anymore and looked down, a small smile on her face. She was becoming more unlike herself as the days passed, she thought. "Bye," she whispered, so softly that she didn't think he could hear before turning around and walking towards the door. She hesitated by the doorway, hand on the knob before tears started falling from her eyes again and she opened it, not looking back.

"Darcia." She heard, though it was so soft and so hesitant that she thought she imagined it. She stalled just long enough to hear another word. "Wait." She turned her head in acknowledgement, tears falling slowly. "Look at me, please." She did as he instructed, silent in her misery. He looked from the ground to her, something off about him. "Can I just...can we try something first? One thing?" She nodded, shielding herself from whatever was going to happen, just in case. He let out a breath of air and nodded to himself before walking full speed to her, fully intent on his decision. She looked at him confused as he neared her and only could open her mouth to ask him what he was doing before he reached her, taking her in his arms and kissing her full on. Her knees gave out, a new wave of tears falling as she wrapped her arms around his neck, leaning into the kiss. It was the perfect combination of regret, want, and forgiveness she'd ever experienced and she never wanted it to stop. It was a perfectly innocent kiss, no bumping, grinding, moaning; just soft sighs and gentle caresses of the lips.

"Bruce..." she murmured against his lips, so utterly beyond confusion that it nearly hurt to think about.

"I don't know," he responded, leaning against the doorframe as she pushed against him. "I don't know what I'm doing anymore. I can't...I can't think properly when I'm around you."

She looked up at him, blinking away tears. "What...what are you saying?"

"I don't know," he replied, hitting his head back against the frame. "You do this to me. You make me not function properly."

She let a laugh escape, half against her will. They were silent as they stared at each other, both blushing and thinking wild thoughts. "You've turned my way of thinking around so many times in the past twenty minutes that I don't know what to make of this," she breathed, somewhat disoriented. "What are you doing to me?"

He laughed out loud, uncharacteristically. "I should be asking you the same question. I'm making a terrible decision, aren't I?" Darcia looked hurt and he immediately started backtracking. "No, no, I mean...your safety is always going to be in question. That's the terrible decision. You would never be the wrong part to this...whatever this is."

Darcia nodded, as if grasping where he was going. "So..." she started, very hesitant, not wanting to be hurt again. She settled for one word. "Slow?"

He was quiet for a minute, thinking it over. His signature smile rose to his face, all sincerity. "Slow," he repeated, drawing out the word, nodding. "Slow."

"Slow," she said back to him, smiling.

"Slow."

(A/N: Okay, first of all: the asterisk ended at that quotation, but really most of that conversation starting when he denies her is from Notting Hill (starring Julia Roberts and Hugh Grant...best movie ever) and I've anticipated having that speech in this story since the beginning. It's been modified, of course because otherwise it wouldn't have made sense. Also, I'm super sorry they got OOC a little bit, but it was super hard to write and I couldn't get it out right. Oh well. This is the chapter I've been waiting for and you've been waiting for and don't worry, it won't end here. I am going to speed things up though because I'm tired of writing on a day-to-day basis. Especially if you want them to fall legit in love. And like sex and stuff. haha. That's important too. Oh, and that quote about a loaded gun is from Taken (Liam Sexyass Neeson), by the way. Just so you know. And the Inferno lines are legit. Don't judge me. Anyway...I think that's it for now. Please let me know what you think and I'm super sorry if they went a little too fast for you. But I won't know unless you tell me! Thank you, guys!)