A/N: Here we go.

Pulling the Puzzles Apart

Part 11, Ch. 1

Bed-Stuy, Brooklyn, New York

Clint was packed and ready to go for Melbourne as he opened the door. He went to grab his travel bag when he noticed the lights in the hallway were out. He immediately thought the building had lost power before he realized his kitchen light was still on before it started to flicker and dim as a man appeared in front of his face. It wasn't just any man, but the one who had taken Bruce.

He was springing forward at the same time he went for a knife as he slammed the man into the wall. A knife was at the man's throat as he said, "You. What're you doing here? Where's Bruce? Answer me!"

The man he knew to be Anton Rudenko didn't even flinch as he said, "Here."

Clint felt something press into his chest but didn't look away from the dark eyes staring into his. "That's not an answer."

"It is, Mr. Barton," he said as he pushed it harder into his chest. "Take it, it's yours."

Clint didn't back away as he asked one more time, "Don't make me hurt you. Where is he?"

"Take it."

His anger surged again as he shook his head once and told him, "You did this to yourself, remember that," right before he jabbed his arm forward. The knife barely missed Anton's face as it plunged instead into the dark wall behind him. But there was no wall. The empty space his arm entered felt cold and it pulled the knife right out of his grip.

Anton grabbed Clint's arm and twisted it as he kneed him in the side. He shoved him away and then tossed something at his chest. "Are you sure you want me to remember this?" he as with a smirk right before he turned around.

The hallway seemed to fluctuate into darkness as the man walked into the shadows. Clint swallowed hard as the lights suddenly blinked back on to show an empty hallway. There was no one and nothing except for a bubble envelope on the floor and his knife sticking out of the wall.

He got up and took hold of the knife and jerked away. It felt frozen. Leaving it there, he picked up the envelope and flipped it over in his hands once, then twice, before deciding to open it. Dropping into his hand was a flashdrive and a note addressed to a familiar name that was his, but not his: Ronin.

It was code, had to be, because the only person who knew to call him that would've been..."Bruce."

Outside Oryol (Orel), Russia

Several Days Later

I was being dragged. A tight grip in my coat pulled me along into the dark alley and then through a cracked door into a darker room with little light. It was hot and stuffy like a sauna, but it wasn't a sauna. It was a kitchen in the back of a bar. The hand loosened as my stumbling feet came to a stop in front of a prep table. On the table wasn't ingrediants to some delicious meal but a man bleeding out from bullet wounds.

"You doctor."

It wasn't a question, but a statement. Yes, I was a doctor. I looked up from the dying man and at the other men surrounding the table and gave a nod. Their faces weren't too familiar to me, but I knew who they were. The guns, tattoos, and shaved heads gave them away. Being on the run, and walking the very thin line between underworld and the outcasts, I'd been caught up in a few dealings with mobsters all over the world. However, this was the first for these neo-Nazi assholes.

I was pushed from behind toward the table as my bag was pulled from my shoulder then shoved into my chest. Then a gun went into my face.

"Fix him."

Fix him. The only instruction given as I sat my bag down and went to work. It wasn't the best work I'd done. It was long, sloppy, and a lot of Vodka was consumed by everyone but me as I dug out bullets and tried to stop massive internal bleeding.

He wasn't going to make it. I knew that before I started. Vital organs and veins had been hit and ruptured, but being threatened with a gun would make anyone at least try. I wasn't worried about myself. They could shoot me all they wanted; I was worried about the patrons in the bar, the people living in the building, and the people out on the street. And this man, despite who he was and his affliations, deserved for a doctor to at least try.

And try I did with blood soaking my gloved hands and sweat coating my face and back, causing me to shiver despite the heat from the kitchen. I tried until his heart stopped and no matter how many chest compressions I did it was of no use. He was gone.

He was gone and there were men with cold eyes and guns staring at me as I called it. The leader, the big man with neck tattoos who'd told me to fix him, stared down at the man on the table then up at me as he said, "Not fixed."

Swallowing hard, I told him, "I tried," while taking off the gloves and tossing them. "Honestly, I tried, but there wasn't much I could do." I wasn't going to rattle off the details of the wounds; it was obvious to anyone who looked that there were too many holes in all the wrong places and too much blood that without a transfusion and a miracle, the man never had a chance.

The man who'd stuck the gun in my face before put it back against my head as he said something in Ukranian. I didn't know Ukranian, couldn't even take an educated guess. However, the gun against my temple was a good indication of what he wanted to do. I did catch a name; he called the leader Josef. He was asking Josef what to do with me.

I saw the hard look in the brown eyes of Josef right before he opened his mouth to say, "Kill him."

There was a commotion in the back, coming from behind Josef, as a shadow appeared. The dim lights flickered as I felt a pull unlike anything I'd felt before. It felt like all the energy and life in my body was being sucked out toward the shadow. The shadow suddenly gave way to a man. He was tall with white hair and wearing a long raincoat. His face was stern and sharp with piercing grey blue eyes.

From the angered voices and harsh treatment of the newcomer, I suspected he wasn't welcomed. They pulled several weapons and pointed them at the man but it was useless. They fired at him but the bullets only seemed to miss as he moved quickly, in and out of the darkness. With every fired bullet I flinched and ducked, eventually I was on the floor behind a steel counter as the bullets flew. The weirdest part was that every ounce of anger had been taken away as the other guy's roaring eased into nothingness. I should have been panicking; I should have been scared and angry. I should have been fighting back the urge to turn green. Instead, I was calm and knew everything was going to be okay.

That was right before the room suddenly exploded in on itself. I was thrown sideways into a cabinet and hit the floor as wall and brick and debris blew over my head and the building rocked. A muffled constant ring filled my head as I couldn't hear a thing as flames spread fast and the heat was so intense it felt like my skin was peeling off my body. I had to get up. That thought replayed over and over in my mind as I pushed myself up and went to take a step when my ankle flared in pain and I tripped over something. With my eyes clenched shut and jaw tight, I was expecting the other guy to come roaring up with a venegence. There was nothing. No anger, no green flash of rage, and no Hulk. But there was a lot of pain.

Once I opened my eyes, the smoke was so thick I couldn't see anything, not even what I tripped over. Running my hands over the floor, I felt clothes and then an arm, then a body. It was a person. Then my hands ran over a familiar fabric, leather and suede with straps. My bag. I picked it up and slung it over my shoulder and crawled my way through the maze of smoke and fire and collasped walls and ceilings until I was coughing and gagging into fresher air.

I'd made it into the front of the building where the bar still stood. As I went to stand, a pair of hands grabbed my shoulders. I tried to scream but my throat was aching as it felt like it was strangling itself. My eyes were burning from the smoke that it was hard to make out the person but then I caught sight of white hair then I knew right away who the shadowy figure belonged to.

"Let's-" he was cut off as another explosion engulfed the night. It sounded close.

"What's happening?" I finally asked as my throat cracked with pain.

His body dropped over mine as another ball of flames and debris blew over us. It seemed like the whole world was blowing up. The walls trembled, windows cracked, and debris fell from the ceiling as I heard the other man scream out in pain. A sharp, tight throated sound that made my body tense before it stopped and he went slack on top of me as everything went dark.

Get up, Banner. Get...Up. I pushed him up off me and was able to roll him over as I sat up. All I could see was my cold breath as I tried to calm my breathing and a dull light coming through the windows arcoss the room.

A room. We were in a room...What the-"Hell?"

We were no longer in the burning bar but in a different room. A different building. But how? A hiss of pain and deep groan broke the stunned fog from my head as my training kicked in. I found a flashlight in my bag as well as a space blanket, and first aid kit. I got to work first on elevating the man's legs and covering him with the blanket before I took care of my own ankle. I bandaged it and tapped it off before looking around. The room was littered with old wooden office furniture and newspapers. Checking my bag, I pulled out a small hatchet and pack of matches. Using a metal desk drawer, I piled it full of newspaper and hacked up bits of the wooden furiture and then set it on fire.

Then I went back to the bleeding unconscious man on the floor.

The only injury visible was the deep gash across his left face but I saw what'd happened. I saw the explosion and fire and flying debris. Getting his arms out of the raincoat was the easy part, I had to use scissors for the rest of the clothes. Turning him onto his side, I bit my lip at the sight on his burned back. The only sound from the man was a soft whimper from his bloody mouth as his body shook.

I rolled him onto his stomach and took a breath. This was going to take me all night and I didn't have much supplies, or everything I would need, to make this a painless experience.

"Just do it."

I nearly jumped at the soft whisper. Staring down at the man, I saw his eyes open. In the flickering glow of the fire, they looked nearly black.

"Stop...debating..."

There wasn't anything to say to that, so I dug inside my bag and pulled out what I had and went to work. When I got to the stitching up part, and all I had was a needle and thread, I finally spoke as I told him, "Sorry."

"...Don't be..." was the last thing I heard before he passed out from the pain.

It was after daylight when I heard movement. I'd just turned over the fourth King to finally move over the string of playing cards off the last overturned pile of in my umpteenth game of Solitare when I heard the space blanket crackle. Taking my eyes off the playing cards, I watched as the man rolled onto his right side and look around the small room.

The fire had to be re-started several times through the night and was now embers glowing out of the metal office drawer on the floor between us.

"Clever."

I huffed out a laugh and went back to my game. I'd lost three in a row and was on the verge of redeeming myself. Putting the Queen on the King, I flipped over the overturned card and smiled at the Ace of Diamonds. I won. Gathering up the cards, I put them back in my bag then pulled out a long sleeved button-up and tossed it to the man. The shirt was a few sizes too big for my smaller body but looked to fit the taller man perfectly.

He eased up into a sitting position and pulled on the shirt with difficultly but I let him do it alone as I walked to the window and looked out over the war torn street. Gray smoke lingered over the street, fires burned cars and the building down the street. Even though it was an overcast of grey clouds, with the sun up it was warmer than it had been last night. Maybe ten degrees celsius out now. Last night it'd dropped to freezing tempertures.

What had also dropped last night was the anger in my head and the tension in my body. In fact, I haven't heard the other guy all night. Nor had I felt his presence. It was like he was asleep, deeply asleep, not even a stirring. I had felt like I could actually sleep soundly, peacefully, for the first time in years. But I couldn't let the fire go out because with the other guy that quiet I wasn't sure that if I had stopped breathing in my sleep that he would have woken to save my life. And that scared me.

There'd been a time when I wanted death; when I sought it out and hoped it would find me. But that was then, and this was now, and the thought of death was terrifying. Where are you? I asked into my depths to no response. I didn't think I could deal with this sense of emptiness for much longer. I suddenly felt something I hadn't felt in years. I was anxious and on the verge of panic.

"Name's Anton."

Turning from the window, I almost forgot someone else was in the room. Staring at the man now standing with the shirt buttoned up, I told him, "Bruce." I hadn't known why I'd done it, giving him my real name, but it just slipped out. I normally went by David, or maybe my given first name of Robert with strangers, but never ever Bruce.

It wasn't until I was staring at his face that I noticed something different about it. Something that shouldn't have been there; not yet anyway. Not for weeks, maybe months. Walking over to him, I impatiently grabbed his face and turned it to see the left side as he batted my hand away.

It was a scar. A completely healed scar. My mind went blank as I watched as he took a step back and grabbed his raincoat. I noticed on the back of the shirt there were no blood stains. There should be stains. I hadn't been that successful in patching him up. There would be seepage, stains, and a lot of pain. He didn't seem in pain. He had healed completely overnight.

"You're healed," I spoke into the room as he pulled on the coat. The only other person I knew that could heal that fast was me. I thought about last night; the man, Anton, emerging from the shadows and then the sudden shift in location. How we went from the burning bar to this room..."You're..." I tried to think of the right word to describe it: Radiated? No, that was me. Different? Too vague; true, but not descriptive enough. Finally I settled on..."advanced."

Anton smiled slightly at the use of word and said, "More than most."

"What?" I snapped myself out of the shock and fog and shook my head. What I meant to say was, "How?"

"Doesn't matter," he said before starting for the door. "Thanks for the help."

I couldn't let him get away that easily. I hadn't, there hadn't been another...I got between him and the door and willed the Hulk awake. Anton stopped short of running me over but the steel in his eyes made me flinch. And the Hulk should have been roaring by now. There was only silence. "How," I asked again.

"I'm not here to entertain your interest in things you will never understand."

I wanted to laugh, and to flash my eyes green for him to know that this wasn't based on interest, but on mutual understanding. If I couldn't prove I was...advanced, as well, then why would he believe me when I told him, "I understand, believe me. It's that I've never met someone else who was..."

"Advanced?" Anton said then took a step back as he looked me over. Then he said, "Prove it."

I knew that was coming and right then I couldn't and had no idea why. Where the hell are you Hulk? Letting out a breath, I told him, "Would if I could...but something's wrong. I can't..."

Anton raised a brow and asked sacrastically, "Can't?"

"I'm, drained," was the best way to put it. The only way to put it. It felt every ounce of radiated rage had been completely drained from my body. "'Least that's what it feels like."

Anton stood standing for moment then gave a nod. "Well, that could be my fault." I didn't say anything as I let him explain. "I can absorb energy...Energies, as it were, of various types, and manipulate them. If you're telling the truth, then I've been sucking everything out of you all night. I wondered why I healed so quickly. Usually, it takes days unless I'm able to absorb a large amount quickly."

"Good to know, now, can you give it back?" I hastly asked. The panic was close. It was clenching my gut and shaking my hands. I couldn't leave, couldn't go anywhere feeling like this. I was completely alone and I hated that feeling.

He laughed. "I'm afraid that's not how it works. The only way for you to get it back is to get as far away from me as you can. I don't extract your power completely, all I can do is damper it, like...how do I put this...?"

"Electromagnetic radiation absorption?" It was Anton's turn to look confused, and stunned, as I explained. "Physics, uh, energy of a photon is taken up by matter. So, um, the electromagnetic energy is transformed into internal energy of the absorber...like, thermal energy." After a moment, I told him, "I am...well, was...a physicist."

Anton stared at me for a long moment then said, "I was going to say like kryptonite to Superman."

I felt myself smile slightly as I told him, "I don't think kryptonite works exactly that way, but it could be the basis for the concept..." I tried off when I saw the smirk on his face. "I've never actually read the comic book."

"Me neither," he said with a soft laugh.

And for some reason that laugh made me smile. This was insane. "Okay, how?"

Anton fell silent for a moment as he sighed and shook his head. I wasn't sure he'd answer until he said, "I was captured by the KGB before the Soviet Union fell. While a prisoner..." he looked away as he visibly tensed. "They loved their torture, but loved scientific experimentation more. Quite honestly, I'm not sure which one it was, or if it'd been a mixture of them all that caused this. I planned our escape after I realized I could merge with shadows. I can also deflect moving objects, not stop them or anything, but push them off their marks slightly and let them faded into the shadow."

This was all so bizarre, but I was also a man who could turn into a monster. And I had seen him do it. Appear from shadows, move through them while bullets being fired at his head missed every single time. And then the shifting from one place to another. "How can you transport?"

Anton gave a jerk of his shoulder, like a shrug, and said, "I don't know. I just do. Lights flicker and the shadow surrounds everything and I just...do. Last night had been the first time I tried to do it with someone else in my arms. It appears to have worked."

The science behind this didn't make sense. My mind couldn't wrap any reasonable logic or scientific knowledge around it to make it work.

"Some things can't be explained away by science, my friend," Anton said and once again I wondered if he could read my mind. I hadn't asked him about that one yet. Truth was, I didn't want to know the answer. "All I remember from what I overheard by the KGB was something about a dark force. If you can make sense of that one day, Scientist, you let me know." He then asked, "How're you advanced, as you put it?"

I thought about it for a moment as I tried to reason out the Hulk. Telling him I turned into a giant green rage monster would be hard to explain unless he knew of or seen footage of the Hulk. "I uh, get big, and green, and I break things."

It didn't seem like Anton understood any of that as confusion clouded his eyes right before they got big. "Zurich."

I flinched. I wanted to tell him that hadn't been me, that I wasn't responsible for that tragedy, but that would've been a lie. "Yeah," I breathed out. "That, incident, wasn't intentional."

He gave nod but the tension that suddenly filled the room was palpable. Then he surprised me when he said, "Would it matter if I said I wished it were? Depsite the collateral damage, you took out a terrorist cell who were planning something a lot more sinister and destructive than anything you've ever done."

That caught my interest, and so did everything else Anton had to tell me. I learned that he was a mercenary. The explosion had been from him, and that his people had emptied the building and bar before the explosions to make sure the only ones hurt or killed were the neo-Nazis.

The reason he'd saved me, he said, was because he had heard what I said, what I had thought, about how everyone deserved for a doctor to at least try. He liked that about me. That I could see past who a person was and see the simple fact that they were human, and therefore, deserving. He said he didn't meet too many people who thought the way I did in his line of work.

My eyes refocused out the window as snowflakes fell quietly across the vast terrian and trees outside. A rusty old sign in Russian adverstised the petrol station on the corner, the only other building for miles. Letting out a deep breath, I smiled slightly at the memory.I didn't know why either, but I trusted him immediately. I helped him, and he helped me. And he helped by giving me information and connections that got me to Pakistan. And Pakistan got me to India, and from there...From there It got me back to Clint, and then to A.I.M, and now maybe even back to Sebastian. If it hadn't been for Anton, maybe none of this would have ever happened.

A tap at the door pulled me from my thoughts as I turned from the window I'd been staring out. It opened to reveal Anton who was freshly showered, shaved, and dressed with a towel wrapped around his shoulders. "Might want to come take a look at this."

Pulling on my button-up, I followed him out into the open space of the living area. There wasn't much furniture in the flat hideaway, only a the table near the window, a small sofa, fireplace in the corner, and a t.v. stand with a television. Playing on the television was a screen that looked straight out of an action movie. Robots were exploding in the air, a fire was burning away at a cargo ship, and there was a headline at that bottom that stated that the President of the United States had been rescued by Iron Man.

"They're saying the Mandarin was behind the abduction of your President. As for your friend, Iron Man, he saved the day."

"I don't have a President," I muttered as I watched the scene play out for a couple minutes longer.

This was obviously at the end of the excitement, everyone was safetly out of danger and Tony was probably perched on some rooftop somewhere in the distance watching the fireworks. Good for him. I turned away from the television and started buttoning the cuffs on the shirt as I walked to the kitchen. It was too early for explosions, even on the television, and I needed coffee and didn't care at the moment if it wasn't decaf.

"The plane's ready to go, just say the word."

I filled a cup with the last of the coffee in the pot and topped it off with the last of the milk before answering him. "There's been a change in destination. Call the pilot and let him know we're heading North to Saint Petersburg or, could be Leningrad."

"You mean Leningrad Oblast. Saint Petersburg was Leningrad, get your history straight."

Smiling slightly at the tone, I asked without turning around, "Touchy?"

"I had family die during the Siege of Leningrad, so you could say I'm very touchy..." He paused and then started, "Wait, so not Moscow?" he asked in confusion. "You said Moscow."

"Not Moscow," I repeated as I turned and leaned against the kitchen counter. The coffee was too hot that it burned the tip of my tongue.

"Okay, why not Moscow?"

It took me a moment to gather my reasoning before I could explain it to him. "Access to a large sea port and water, for starters. In Paris, A.I.M's facility was on a small man-made island surrounded by water. Now, with that facility it appeared to me that they were only conducting human test trials for their gamma research. That small amount of water would be sufficient enough if something were to overheat. But, I'm thinking that the facility here is the main headquarters for their research and development into both gamma and kinetic energy. That's alot of radiation and power to try to control, and they'll need water to help control it, much like a nuclear power plant needs water to cool the reactors."

Anton raised a brow and asked, "They'll need the whole Gulf of Finland?"

I felt myself chuckle slightly as I pushed off the counter and walked over the map of Russia that was laid out over the round table. "Or," I said as I pointed to the lake just east of St. Petersberg and north of Leningrad Oblast, "Lake Ladoga."

Looking at the map, Anton smiled slightly as he said, "There are many rivers and large bodies of water, how'd you know it's there."

"I don't, but I can take an educated guess that it is. Saint Petersburg is the most Westernized city in Russia. It's home to a large number of foreign consulates and international corporations, banks, and businesses. A.I.M. is one of those international corporations. It needs it's foreign interests and money to conduct business and stay operational. Also, do you know what two of the sister cities are to Saint Petersburg?" When he shook his head, I answered with a smirk, "Paris and Melbourne."

Anton was giving me a look, one I'd seen from him before, as he said, "You're one clever, clever, man, you know that?"

"Yeah, so clever I blew my cover and got myself shot."

"I didn't say you were perfect." Anton said with a teasing smirk as he looked me over.

"Call your pilot," I told him instead of answering his question.

"I am the pilot," Anton said as he took a drink of the coffee. "It'll be just you and me, Scientist. That is, unless your boyfriend's crashing the party." He smiled slightly as he said, "Don't tell me you thought I missed that little farewell kiss in Paris."

He was referring to Clint. Anton had seemed impressed with him, and amused, when he informed me of everything that had happened after I ended up with two bullet holes in my chest and soaking wet. I felt the heat in my cheeks as I turned away, telling him, "You got lucky. He never misses."

"Not luck, my friend," Anton said as he started to fold up the map. "I'm no spring chicken, but I've got a few tricks up my sleeve. Deflecting bullets is hardly kids play, an arrow on the other hand, piece of cake."

I always wanted to laugh at Anton when he talked. For a man I knew to be Russian, his dialect was an odd one. He sounded at times more like Humphrey Bogart than any Russian I'd ever heard, not including Natasha who had been trained to be, and sound, American by the KGB. When I told Anton that once, he only smiled and said he loved classic American movies. He was practically obsessed with them.

I stopped at the door and looked back over my shoulder at him. "Be glad he didn't use the boomerang arrow."

"Why on earth would you want an arrow that comes back?"

"Maybe because an arrow to your back would be the last thing you'd expect," I told him before shutting the door behind me.

I stopped in the middle of the room and stared at the bedroom that only held a bed and a bag with some clothes and personal items. I was back on the run again, but this time I at least had a destination and a purpose for going there. Next stop, Saint Petersburg.

The Triskelion

Washington D.C.

"Why would he send this to me? It's obviously meant for Barton."

Fury crossed his arms as he stared at the screen and said, "Barton didn't show for his rendezvous with our agent in Melbourne."

Natasha stood from the table she'd been seated at and cursed under her breath, "Damn it, Clint." Pacing the room, she turned back to him and asked, "Do you think this is an edited version, and in the message he sent to Barton he revealed his location?"

"I don't know. What I do know is Banner sent us this for a reason, Romanoff. Either he wants us to use this to track him down in hopes of help, or..." he trailed off as he turned to her. "This stays between us."

Natasha gave a nod and looked back at the screen. Fury didn't need to look at it himself to know she was staring at the paused screen shot of Bruce Banner staring back at them. "He's warning Clint about SHIELD. I know Banner's never been fond of us or the government, but he seems to think he knows a lot more than we do right now."

Fury smirked and said, "He probably does. There's a lot I don't even know about SHIELD and I'm the Director. As Stark said once, "Our secrets have secrets." And I want to know about this Sebastian. He's obviously a big secret since I have no idea who he is."

"Clint has to know or else Bruce wouldn't have bothered to mention him." Natasha shook her head and whispered, "He didn't trust me enough."

"After a message like that one, he probably didn't think he could trust anyone. At the moment, I don't, and neither should you. I want only your eyes on this. Barton figured it out and he's on the move. Find him, Romanoff. Once you do, just go. This is off books."

Without saying a word, she turned and left the office.

Fury turned back to the screen and felt the anger rush up to the surface. He knew who the culprit was that had restricted his knowledge about the man on the screen, but unlike last time he wasn't about to go up to the top floor to confront Alexander Pierce about this Sebastian fellow. He knew he'd only receive a denial, or a lie, and then Pierce would know that he knew and that would be it. He would have shown all his cards.

Not this time.

1,000 Feet Above Russia

En-route to Saint Petersburg

Russia had plenty of breath-taking scenery for anyone interested in that sort-of thing. All I saw was the vast emptiness and isolation. Bleak and solitary. If I'd been interested in this kind-of living once again, this could have been my sanctuary. The long flight North through the snow and cold was only twenty minutes underway when I started to feel something off. I didn't know what it was but in was in the air like hot static.

"There's different ways to convert energy," I found myself saying as I remembered what we'd been discussing. I was talking to Anton about kinetic energy and possible ways of empowering it. "There's electricity, fire, heat, light, plasma, and then potential and raw energies."

"And you think this A.I.M. is experimenting with all of it?"

I gave a nod as I thought about the news report from earlier. Tony had fought people who were able to ignite themselves on fire. "Fourth state of matter. You heat a solid it becomes a liquid, heat a liquid it becomes a gas, heat gas...you get plasma, which is an ionized, electrically conductive gas. You know, now that I'm thinking about it, plasma could be a great form of clean energy."

"A.I.M.'s creating clean energy?"

"What?" I looked over at Anton and saw him staring down at the console. "No, uh, I meant...I was just thinking out loud, sorry."

"Your mind goes from one thing to another like a ping pong ball." Anton was frowning as he adjusted his speed again and shook his head. "You should consider yourself lucky, Scientist. You possess something anyone else would beg, borrow, and steal for."

"What's that?" I asked off-handedly as I turned back to stare out the window.

"Immortality." I blinked back and turned to stare at Anton who was adjusting his speed and altitude again as we neared some taller hills and trees. He didn't look at me as he said, "Brace yourself."

In the split moment it took me to register that, the plane's engines stalled and we were falling rapidly from 1,000 feet straight toward land. As the panic shot up into my throat, I felt way too calm for this. Looking over the panel in front of me I noticed the circuits firing and dials spinning. There was no control. "What's happening?"

When I didn't receive an answer I looked over to Anton who no longer had his hands on the controls but was staring out the window. "We're falling too fast, I can't stabl-"

I felt my body drop forward and then the sudden stop from the restraints that took my breath away. Staring in front of me was the window and just past the window was the ground. Yet, we were stopped. Everything had stopped. It took me a second longer to realize what had happened. We were suspended in mid-air.

It was hard to breathe as fear took over. My mind was racing, blood pumping harder and faster, and the panic was palpable. I could've died. Still could. The Hulk, thanks to Anton's ability, was sedated. Looking at Anton, I saw his pale face and shocked expression as he strained against the restraints holding him in place.

"No screaming."

I heard the voice come through the shattered window by my side. Twisting my neck around, I tried to focus on the voice and what was said because suddenly I was having trouble staying conscious. It had to have been from the sudden drop and shock and that fact we were floating in the air inches from impacting the ground.

"I wasn't expecting the silence," a man's voice said in the air. And that was what it sounded like, as if his voice was floating on the air. It was all around me, like a static echo.

"Where are you?" I found myself asking because I still couldn't see him, or see where he'd come from. We were still a few miles from the airstrip, had been over a field when the plane started to fall.

"I'm right here," I heard Anton answer right before I heard the voice.

"You must have ice in your blood to have not let out a sound once the plane dropped. I felt the calmness that overtook the panic. It was a surprise. This wasn't your first brush with death."

Anton was pulling at the restraints to no avail. "It won't unlock." Pulling out a knife from his belt, he went to cut them when the knife was suddenly ripped from his hand to lodge in the control panel. He took a breath before saying, "Okay...we're in trouble."

"No shit," I muttered as I tried to free myself from the tight belts over my chest and across my lap.

"I'm not trouble," the voice said.

I flinched at the whisper in my ear and snapped my head around to be staring at the side of the plane. "Yes, you are," I answered into the silence as I went back to yanking hard at the belt and pulling up on the release. It wasn't budging.

"Seriously, who are you talking to?"

At that question, I turned to look at Anton in confusion as I said, "Whoever it is that's been talking to us since we stopped moving. Don't you hear him?"

Anton wrinkled his head in confusion as he said, "All I've heard is you talking to yourself."

Suddenly I felt the plane move and braced myself as I clenched my eyes shut. Instead of plowing forward into the ground, I felt my weight lean forward then back against the seat as the wheels touched down. Letting out a breath, I opened my eyes to see that we were resting on the ground. I could see trees in front of us and all around was field and sky. The releases on the belts snapped and I yanked them off and stumbled to get up and out of the plane. Anton was right behind me.

His arm reached out and stopped my hand as I went for the door. "Are you sure you want to go out there?"

I stared at him as if he'd lost his mind. The last place I wanted to be is stuck in that plane a moment longer. "Yeah," I said with a nod as he let go. "Would you rather stay here?"

"I'd rather leave this country all together," came his quick reply.

At seeing the seriousness in his eyes and his still chalky white face, I ached for the guy. He had no idea what he'd gotten himself into and he didn't want to stick around for the rest. "Then go. You can leave."

Anton shook his head but then stopped as he looked me over once more. "Maybe that'd be best. As long as I'm near, you can't protect yourself. I can go make sure Barton finds his way."

Now I wasn't so sure I wanted Clint to find his way, but I knew that whatever it was I had to face out there, it wouldn't get me to my destination. Clint had to stop A.I.M., he had to get to their facility and shut it all down. He could do that with Anton's help. "Yeah, and promise me you'll blow it sky high."

Anton smiled slighlty. "You have my word," he said as he took a step back into the soft shadows of the plane.

I turned back toward the door and grabbed the handle but before I could turn open it the whole thing was ripped off the hinges and tossed across the field. Stilling my nerves and shock, I took a step out into the bitter cold and sunlight.

The cold hit me hard as I shivered under the coat. Glancing around I still couldn't see the man who'd been speaking. Taking a step on the frozen field I felt a familiar heat and rage break through the surface. A desperate roar rocked my head enough to cause my body to jerk and head to pound. The Hulk had broke free, and he was raging. It was nearly crippling.

"You are no longer calm."

"You should be more worried about that," I said into the cold as I spun around. Where was this guy? "Why don't you show yourself?"

"I told you, I am here."

"Where?" I nearly yelled in frustration as my anger swelled. I was done with this game.

I stopped circling around myself when I saw movement. It was a brief quick flash of solid blackness, like catching sight of something out of the corner of your eye.

"Here."

When I turned around I stopped breathing as my body stilled in disbelief. I felt like hitting my knees from the sudden weakness in my legs as tears filled my eyes. It was hard to speak as my mouth quivered slightly as I whispered, "Sebastian?"

He tilted his head slightly in thought before he raised his gloved hand toward me, almost as if he wanted to reach out to my face. Then I felt a familiar pull and I wondered if Anton had came back to help when I realized it was coming from the man standing suddenly so close I lost my ability to speak.

A blue glow started to emit from his gloved hand right before a jolt of electricity impacted my chest and everything short-circuited. I hit the ground as I struggled to get out a breath of air and my body shook. The sky vibrated above me as the blue tinted to an aweful shade of green. I felt myself leave the ground, hung loosely in the air, and then hit it hard enough to break bones, but my bones didn't break.

My heart, however, as frozen as ice, shattered.

TBC...