Body and Soul: The Endgame Fix
Part 16: Tea and Empathy
Summary: Bruce and Natasha return home to find a friend waiting on the porch. They tap into Bruce's supply of Girl Scout cookies, make a call across the galaxy, and later they answer one from closer to home. Yes, we earn our mature rating.
Notes: Happy Holidays to those who celebrate! Here's nice big chapter for those who've waited. It's still the evening of Monday, October 30, 2023.
The last thing they'd expected to find was Dr. Stephen Strange waiting for them on the porch, but the Sorcerer Supreme was relaxing on the carved wooden swing with a gray cat on his lap as Bruce pulled up and parked the HX in its usual spot.
"Dr. Strange," Bruce said as he got out of the vehicle. Natasha didn't hesitate to hop out of the passenger's side door. She'd never met him, yet he looked exactly like the pictures she'd found when she researched him after Tony and Nebula had arrived back from Titan. She guessed the large gray cat that jumped out of the tall man's lap must be Gertie.
"Dr. Banner . . . and Ms. Romanoff, I presume," the magic-user returned in his deep baritone voice as he stood up.
"You presume correctly," she said as she joined Bruce. It was nice not to have her identity questioned from the get-go. The cat darted inside through the pet door, and Natasha caught Bruce huffing out a rather flummoxed breath through his nose.
"Stephen, good to see you. I assume you've already met, Gertrude. May I introduce you to Natasha Romanoff," Bruce said, extending his right hand. "Nat, this is Stephen Strange, Earth's Sorcerer Supreme," he explained and mirrored the same open-handed gesture of introduction with his left hand.
"A pleasure," the dark-haired physician said with a slightly amused smile. Natasha came forward and shook the hand he offered her as she stepped onto the porch with Bruce right behind her. "It's a pleasure to meet you," she said. Nat noticed his hand was every bit as scarred as Bruce's was and almost as warm, too. She'd read about the auto accident that ended his surgical career in his file.
"It's good to finally meet you, Ms. Romanoff." He held onto her hand a moment longer than necessary, and Nat knew he was scanning and scrutinizing her, so she stared steadily back into his intense blue eyes and matched his firm grip.
"She's the real one," Bruce assured the sorcerer as he used the tile pad to let them into the house. "Please come in and have some tea, Doctor."
"I can't stay for long, but tea sounds good," the physician admitted and followed the couple through the mudroom and into the kitchen where Sirius greeted them with a low "Whoof!" as Bruce assured the dog the guest was welcome. Strange held out the back of his hand, and the overgrown pup gave it a brief sniff before backing off and circling Natasha protectively.
"Have a seat," Bruce said and filled a copper kettle with water and placed it on the stove before reaching into the cabinet for cups and saucers. Natasha collected Bruce's jacket and hung it up with hers on a peg near the door. She offered to hang up Strange's cloak but he kept it draped over his shoulders as if he were still warding off a chill from the evening air.
"Darjeeling, oolong, green, herbal, some other kind of herbal, or Earl Grey?" Bruce asked as he checked through the containers on the cabinet where the loose-leaf teas had congregated.
With a mischievous smile, the sorcerer suggested, "Surprise me."
"All right, but I doubt you came here for the tea, Stephen."
Strange looked at both Bruce and Natasha, moving around each other with the ease of an experienced pit crew. "No, but I did come for the company and to compare a few notes on certain loose ends, which have turned out to be something more like an unraveling than a tying up of threads."
Bruce sighed. "No neat dénouement for the Time Heist?"
"No, apparently not." Strange studied Natasha who had found Bruce's oversupply of Girl Scout Cookies in the pantry. Without missing a beat, Bruce handed her three small plates to go with the teacups and saucers he'd just set on the counter. The sorcerer was still marveling at how well they coordinated and in-tune they seemed, despite being separated for so long. "Please tell me you have the peanut butter ones dipped in chocolate," he requested. Those had always been a weakness of his.
Natasha dispensed with formality and handed the physician an unopened box of his apparent favorites. She stacked half a box of Thin Mints on a plate for Bruce and pulled out a few butter cookies with chocolate backing for herself. She placed the opened boxes in the middle of the table since it might take the remainder to get through the conversation even if it was brief. Bruce passed her some spoons and napkins to lay out, too. The honey and sugar were already in the table's center. None of them took cream with their tea.
Natasha sat down across the table from Strange whose back was to the mudroom door while Bruce stayed leaning against the higher section of counter, waiting for the kettle to boil. She'd missed seeing what type of tea he'd put into the stainless mesh ball, so it was going to be a surprise for her, too.
Strange cleared his throat as he slid the remainder of his box of cookies into the middle of the table with the others. "First, Ms. Romanoff . . ."
"Natasha, please."
"Natasha, I'm very happy to see you are among the living. I spoke to Wanda earlier, and she passed along the good news. I've since communicated with Fury and Captain Danvers, so I have some information about your captor to pass along if you'd care to hear it."
"Of course," Natasha affirmed.
"Please do," Bruce said with his burly arms folded across his chest.
"As you've already surmised, your impersonator was indeed a Skrull, Natasha. The assumption was the Skrull was either from a different group that Earth hadn't encountered before, one which split off during their diaspora, or perhaps he was some kind of a rogue agent. However, once Fury's allies, the Skrulls under Talos' leadership, compared cell samples collected from the craft in the lake to their database, it became evident that there was a connection."
"So, Nat's fake is related to some of Talos' people?" Bruce asked.
Strange nodded, "Four of them to be exact."
"I hope we're talking siblings or cousins," Bruce said with a frown.
Natasha cut to the other possibility, "Would they be grandparents?"
Strange nodded toward Natasha in acknowledgment, "In a manner of speaking, you were dealing with a being who doesn't exist yet."
The kettle's whistle gradually crescendoed to its full-throated high note as the implications sunk in. Bruce removed the kettle from the burner and turned the gas off. "Something tells me there's a common thread between this issue and what's been happening since the Time Heist. Clint told us there have been more paradoxes turning up."
"Yes, more than just the ones we've been dealing with concerning the Sousa family. In that case, it does seem to come back to a certain individual."
"Speaking of him, have you had a chance to sit down with Steve?" Bruce asked.
"We spoke about a week ago at a coffee shop in the Village, the day after he arrived (or reappeared?), but I can't say that he was extremely helpful. We went over what he'd done and where he said he was for all that time he was absent from our reality, but there were discrepancies almost from the beginning. Before I came here, I stopped by his apartment in Brooklyn, but he doesn't appear to have been there in some time if at all since Tony's funeral."
Bruce continued to frown. "I was hardly able to speak with him the day our Steve left and the old man arrived before that version left the Compound grounds. I asked if he understood the implications his little side junket might have for our timeline, and he clammed up tight. Sam and Bucky got in my face when I asked him again, so I thought it was better to back off before heavier things than words were flying. Do you think he's skipped?"
Natasha was imagining Sam's over-protective reaction and the possible outcome of a three-on-one fight with Bruce and the control it had taken on his part to avoid one. Even with those odds, a damaged arm, and a reluctance to harm the others, she'd have still put her money on Bruce. Nevertheless, the whole thing bothered her. She'd been at Peggy's funeral, and Natasha knew just how much Peggy had meant to him. Natasha also remembered seeing Peggy's husband Daniel there, not an older version of Steve. Selfishly throwing the rest of the universe into chaos and creating multiple splinters of the timeline—multiple conflicting realities—didn't match up with Steve's character or ethos at all.
The sorcerer shook his head. "I believe you were right not to press the matter, under those circumstances, Bruce." Strange thought a moment before answering the physicist's question, "If he's still in our reality, it seems likely he's gone underground. I've not been able to track him, and I suspect that's because he's not who he claims to be."
"Or he's found a way to cloak himself from a magical search since I imagine that's what you've already done," Natasha suggested. Strange nodded his confirmation. He'd used a hair from Steve's apartment to weave a tracking spell, and the magic had completely failed. "Do you have any idea exactly what he did to affect the timeline?" she asked.
Strange tried to keep from rolling his eyes with frustration before he dove into his explanation. "It appears he created a parallel timeline in which he lived out his life with Peggy Carter and then renounced that reality after her death to return to our own long enough to drop off the older version of his shield to Colonel Wilson. I'm not completely certain why he felt so compelled to return it, except that he seems to have wanted to pass along his mantel to Sam."
Bruce shook his head, feeling just as frustrated as the magic user. "Why would he want us to think he'd lived his past out in our timeline? Are you sure this really was our Steve?" the physicist asked.
"Those are good questions," the sorcerer stated.
"Was he human?" Natasha asked.
Strange shrugged the slightest bit. "That's also a good question."
"So, we really don't know if this was our Steve, another version of Steve, or a Skrull or something else?" Bruce posited. He'd warmed up a large ceramic teapot and steeped the tea, so now he poured their three cups full and settled them on the saucers for the other two.
"Correct, and that also leaves us with the anomalies involving the Souzas' background shifts and other exchanges or apparent 'edits' of digital footprints," the physician noted and blew on the steaming tea in his cup. "Mmm, white tea, ginger, and . . . bergamot?"
"You're good," Bruce said and placed his larger-sized cup and saucer at the head of the table and sat down in his extra-sturdy seat between the other two. "Whether this was our Steve or not, I'd seriously like to know where he acquired the Pym particles necessary to do the extra hop back to our reality," Bruce groused.
"Although I couldn't get him to say as much, I imagine he stole an extra vial or two when he returned the Space Stone," Strange surmised.
Bruce nodded, "That's the most likely explanation, but I'm amazed that didn't sabotage the whole Time Heist. Damn, it likely created at least one more splinter." The physicist clenched his jaws and then his right fist tightened. Now, he wished he'd thought faster, swallowed his pride, and called in Carol as soon as the old man had appeared on the lakeside bench. Things might have gotten messy, but they also might have had definitive answers to some of their questions. He felt Natasha's hand on his left forearm and realized his frustrations were getting the better of him. Bruce relaxed his jaw muscles and quit grinding his teeth as he loosened his clenched fist, flexing his damaged hand.
"Is Carol the only one who can detect a Skrull?" Natasha asked as she reached for a jar of honey in the middle of the table. Strange flicked his finger to levitate the jar gently into her grasp and unscrewed the lid. She raised an eyebrow and smiled her thanks.
"Please tell us you've figured out some method of detection, Stephen," Bruce said a bit forlornly.
Strange chuckled. "That actually brings me to another interesting piece of news," he said and unfastened his cloak to expose a familiar artifact resting on his chest.
The scar behind Bruce's right thumb heated up even before he realized what was once again housed in the amulet. A green light flared behind the metal housing, making the connection unmistakable. "How did you get it back?"
"As you might know, Stark returned the broken amulet that housed the Time Stone to Master Wong who had it repaired and returned to the place it had previously been kept. Two days ago, the Time Stone reappeared in its housing. I and several others have been investigating this phenomenon since then."
"How is this possible?" the scientist asked in disbelief. "Did Steve pocket it and bring it back?"
"I don't think so. Our surveillance cameras would have detected that" the sorcerer noted. The couple both gave him slightly incredulous looks. "What? We're not allowed to use both magic and technology?"
"You're right. That makes perfect sense," Natasha said. People were only human even if they were powerful magic users.
"What was on the recording?" Bruce asked, moving on with his inquiry.
"There was a green flash and the Stone manifested, once again whole and seated in the amulet just as it had been before."
"You wouldn't happen to have had a spectrometer nearby?" Bruce asked ruefully, wishing there had been more solid data collected.
Strange sighed, "No, but we can talk about adding one if you think that would be useful in the future."
"I'll start the paperwork for you myself," Bruce offered.
Natasha had grown quiet, her mind racing through possible scenarios and ramifications. "Is there any way to check for the presence of the other stones? If the Time Stone has returned, it must be possible for the others to do the same, right?"
The men looked at each other before Bruce spoke. "That's why I wish we'd gotten an energy signature and a reading on the Time Stone's manifestation; then, we might know what we need to look for with more specificity."
"Don't you have some of the data from the testing you and Tony and later Shuri did on the Space and Mind Stones?" she asked.
"You're right. We have data on those two energy signatures, which leaves . . ."
"The Power, Reality, and Soul Stones," Nat finished for him.
Strange held up his hand. "Perhaps another angle of inquiry that would help narrow a search would be to focus on the most likely places each Stone might manifest." The couple looked at each other and nodded. Strange gave a little snort as he watched them telegraphing and ending each other's thoughts. "Are you two sure you've been apart?"
Bruce went a little pale and then flushed beneath his verdant complexion as he looked at her with adoration. Natasha simply smiled back at the sorcerer and patted Bruce's muscular thigh beneath the table. "Now, Doctor, you're sounding like Tony Stark, except he'd have said something more embarrassing, and Bruce would be blushing less."
Bruce started to object but stopped himself. "True," he admitted with a thoughtful nod. "Anyway, as you were saying, Stephen?"
"I think it would help facilitate our search if we looked in the other Stones' last known locations," Strange suggested.
"You mean before Thanos 'acquired' them," Nat clarified.
"And using them and destroying them," Bruce added.
The sorcerer stroked his beard in thought. "Yes, and I believe I may know whom to ask for help with some of that. Bruce, can you still contact the Benatar?"
"That depends upon where they are and whether or not they're using a jump port," Bruce said. "Have you spoken to Fury about this? He may have better equipment and more contacts."
"Fury already knows and is checking through his channels, but I suspect the Guardians and Thor might be closer to Nowhere, Morag, or the remains of Xandar and Asgard than Fury's contacts."
"I have the prototype communication linkup that Rocket and I first put together if you'll give me a few minutes to set it up," Bruce said.
"I can spare it, especially if it gives us some answers," the physician responded.
"Back in a minute," he said and stood up from the table. Sirius watched as his master disappeared out the back door and headed to the warehouse, but he stayed at Natasha's feet.
"How about the Mind Stone?" Natasha asked. "Would Wanda be able to sense if it reappeared?"
"So far nothing," Strange admitted. "She was the first person I contacted after returning from the Kamar-Taj."
"And the next?"
"Wakanda."
"To check on Vision?"
"Yes, but nothing new, no manifestation. His body is still an empty shell."
"But Bruce, Shuri, and Helen are all working on it now," Natasha said.
"That's my understanding," Strange said. "The last time I spoke with Bruce they were working on integrating the programming and data from different sources, but still searching for a power source to replace the Stone."
"That's my understanding, too," she said, not wanting to get ahead of what Bruce may or may not have shared.
Sirius stirred and Bruce entered the kitchen with a reinforced metal case in hand, which he laid out on a clear spot in the middle of the kitchen floor and opened. "Give me a minute. This wasn't designed for hands my size. Friday, bring the array online and prepare the reactor for a higher power demand."
"Already on it, Doctor Banner," the Interface intoned brightly.
The physicist tapped a tile in the wall next to the counter to expose a variety of ports and outlets. He'd looped a coil of cables over his shoulder, which he unrolled and attached to the outlets first before connecting it to the device.
As Natasha rose from her seat, she looked at the open case that was unfolding onto the floor around itself to create a circular pad. She recognized some similarities to the diagnostic device at the medical facility from earlier in the day and the holographic communication array Bruce had designed for the Avengers Compound. She'd used it for almost a week to communicate with Okoye, Rocket, Rhodey, and Carol before the Skrull replaced her, but that device had been larger and less portable. Nat was certain this was the beta version of the machine, on which Bruce had kept tinkering after Rocket and he had designed it. Luckily, he kept it because the larger one was probably destroyed. "Do you need some help with the controls?" she asked.
"If you could flip the input lens up and handle the keypad, I'd appreciate it," he said as he handed her a modified Stark-pad and pointed to a manual set of switches on the base that stood out from the sleeker parts of the design. "That should give control of the contact calculations over to Friday." Nat did as he'd requested and adjusted the lens when it flipped into position. "Friday, engage please," Bruce said.
"Aye, initiating. Doctor, who would you like me to contact?"
Strange caught himself before answering and Bruce grinned back. Having another degree holder in the kitchen was only slightly unusual. "Whoever is on the Benatar—Rocket, Nebula, or Thor will do. I imagine we'll be talking to all of them if this goes through."
"Please, not Drax or Quill," Strange said half under his breath.
The device hummed slightly and they waited a few moments. "Where is your antenna set up?" Natasha asked.
"The warehouse roof. It's the one place flat enough and big enough to hold the communication array, the telescopes, and some other equipment. The local Historical Society would have thrown a fit if I'd stuck anything on top of the house."
"And the reactor?" she asked as the pad in her hands began to display a map that looked like a detailed, three-dimensional star chart.
"It has a lab to itself. Why? Are you worried we'll need more juice?"
"Just thinking ahead to the Christmas lights," she teased back. "Can I display this with the holographic projector in the device?"
"There should be an option for that in the dropdown menu at the upper left," Bruce explained. She quickly had the images flashing into life in a gold column of light, and Strange moved around the table to get a closer look.
"I've found them," Friday said. "Do you want me to hail the Benatar?"
"Please," Bruce said.
In a moment, they heard a crackling that quickly resolved as the channel cleared. "Awwww . . . Did ya miss me, Big Green?" Rocket Racoon's voice asked as the golden image of the stars broke up and reformed into a life-size image of their friend that almost looked solid.
"Just the person I wanted to talk to," Bruce said.
The Guardian tilted his head and squinted. "Holy shhhh... .? Natasha?" Rocket sputtered as he recognized her. His fists went to his eyes and he wiped at them with disbelief before staring back again. "Nice haircut. What's going on? This better not be a joke!"
"No joke. Long story," she said, stepping further forward. "I lost about five years, but I did get to work with you for about a month and a half on the policing council we were setting up before I was grabbed."
"Sweet sushi! Then who was I working with? Who died? Who said she wouldn't let me in the kitchen anymore if I ate something out of the garbage can again?"
Natasha looked at Bruce for direction, and he raised his eyebrows and gave her a small shrug. Strange nodded briefly when she looked at him. "It was a doppelganger, a double who was also a very talented spy," she said.
"A Face Dancer or a Skrull?" Rocket asked.
"A Skrull. So, you've heard of them before?" she asked.
"Well, there aren't a lot of them around since the Kree went all empire on them, but they are known for their shape-shifting talents. I've never heard of one doing it for a whole five Earth years though. That's a hell of a commitment."
"Natasha! I knew I heard your voice!" Thor rumbled as he came into the column's projection field, pushing Rocket a bit to the side as the little technician protested and held his nose.
"Thor?" Natasha asked, sounding quite puzzled by his shaggy and fleshy appearance in exercise shorts and a tank top.
"Damn, I meant to tell you about him," Bruce whispered apologetically. "He got very depressed."
"Sorcerer Strange, do we have you to thank for her resurrection?" the Asgardian asked.
Bruce and Stephen looked at each other, and the sorcerer cleared his throat and stepped closer to the communication device's input lens. "No, I believe Natasha managed to free herself."
"Then you escaped Vormir on your own? That is truly auspicious!" the thunder god assumed.
"No, Thor, I was held in stasis for about five years."
"Five years? Baldur's ghost," he stammered and looked away, calculating how long she'd been a prisoner. "I . . . I'm so sorry. Then who did we work with? How did it happen?"
"A Skrull spy, you smelly dope," Rocket growled and slapped Thor's belly to back him up a bit.
"Is that who died?" Thor asked.
"Yes," Natasha said with a nod.
"I guess that explains some of her behavior and the shabby way she treated Bruce. You've told Clint, right?"
"He knows. He was here earlier," she explained.
"Ah, good," Thor said with a nod. "I'm glad you called me."
"You weren't the only one they called," Rocket said irritably as he elbowed in front of the gigantic blonde again. "Why don't you go back to helping Quill put that Bo-Flexier thing together?!"
"Looks like you've lost some weight," Bruce noted.
"Only because we're outta beer," Rocket snapped.
"Thank you for noticing," Thor said with a pleased smile.
"Actually," Strange spoke up, "there is another matter we wanted to discuss. If Nebula is there, we'd like to include her in the conversation." It took about ten minutes of discussion to get everyone up to speed between interruptions as the rest of the Guardians joined the conversation, except for Groot who mostly rolled his eyes as he worked a newer handheld game in the background before leaving the cabin. No, they'd not heard any news of the Infinity Stones manifesting, but they'd been mostly focused on following Gamora's trail and looking for Asgardian survivors. There was confusion, but also a lot of joy after Bruce's Snap returned people.
The Guardians had good news on that front. The spaceport where the heavily damaged hulk of the Ambassador had been hauled after its destruction at Thanos' hands had doubled its population of 1,200 as unsnapped Asgardians and even some resurrected ones rejoined the living along with a few Sakaaran gladiators as well. Thor teared up as he thanked Bruce for including so many of his people in the Hulk-Snap.
"It was the least I could do. I really wasn't sure if it had worked. Were Loki or Heimdall returned?" Bruce asked.
"No news of them yet, but we've not given up hope," Thor said with a shrug. "Most of the survivors will be immigrating to New Asgard to join the rest as ships become available," he explained.
Rocket chuckled, "It's not like we could get them an Uber Lift, but the locals seemed pretty motivated to get them all off the station and resettled."
"Before they eat them out of lauder and breathe them out of oxygen," Nebula added. "We're headed toward Nowhere next as we search for my sister. Perhaps we'll hear something about the Power or the Reality Stone there."
"Hope so," Quill added. "We've heard stories that don't match up. Some reports say there's nothing left of Xandar, but others say only the capital was damaged and it's slowly and quietly being rebuilt. When we get closer, the information should get more reliable."
"If there's something to see, we won't know till we see it with our own eyes or not," Draxx said stoically.
"I hate to break up this love fest," Rocket intoned, "but we are nearing the jump port. Has everyone made their requests, kissed their moms, and said their good-byes?"
"Please let us know as quickly as you're able if there's news of a Stone manifesting," Strange entreated.
"We certainly will," Nebula replied in her husky all-business tone. Bruce had a good rapport with Rocket and an abiding friendship with Thor, but he placed most of his confidence in the tall blue cyborg.
"Just a moment," Thor said and got close to the device as the others receded from view. "Let me know when the wedding is, okay? I'd like to be there." Before Bruce or Natasha could respond, he'd winked and signed off.
"Well," Strange asked impishly, "when is it?"
"I don't even know if he still snores yet," Natasha deadpanned.
They'd talked for a little while and laid out plans, but it wasn't long before the Sorcerer Supreme left via a fiery portal back to his Sanctum Sanctorum. The big black dog finally relaxed. Sirius had been lowkey guarding Natasha all evening since they'd been back, but now he retreated to his bed in the corner, circling before flopping down into a dark fury heap. Being on duty was apparently exhausting.
They'd broken down and packed the equipment and finished cleaning up cups and plates when Friday let them know a video call from Pepper was coming through. Pep and Happy had beaten them to it. Bruce said they'd take the call on his laptop up in the bedroom, and Nat had raced him up the stairs. For the sake of the staircase, he'd let her win.
He sat down at his desk and opened the laptop with its Hulk-sized keypad. Before he'd finished signing in, Natasha had settled onto his right thigh as if she'd claimed that as her spot now. When the screen came up, they weren't surprised to find Pepper seated on a couch with Happy. She had a glass of what was probably white wine and Hap had a tall glass of dark beer in hand. They'd apparently settled Morgan in bed and felt like they'd waited as long as they could stand before calling. Both of them grinned as their eyes settled on Nat.
"I can't believe you're back, Natasha," Pepper said and her voice broke as she teared up.
"Me either. I can't believe I missed you and Tony's wedding and your daughter." Bruce put his injured arm around her. "How are you doing?" she asked.
"It's not easy, but Morgan keeps me busy," Pepper admitted. "I can't wait for you to meet her."
Nat nodded, "Me either."
"I'm sorry I didn't put things together. I just knew something was wrong, even before the wedding. I should have known."
"To be fair, Pep, the fake one was really good at pushing people away and setting them back on their heels," Bruce said feeling a similar twinge of guilt even as he tried to make their friend feel better.
Pepper had set the wine glass down and was hugging herself around the middle. "Oh, my God, what she put you through, Bruce. Tony thought she'd been brainwashed or reprogramed. We just couldn't understand the disconnect and . . . I'm sorry, Nat, we tried to get her to see a psychiatrist, and it just drove her further away. After that, we sort of gave up." That was after Bruce had had it out with her, too. The fake had been the last Avenger on the wall, but looking back, it was clear that was the interloper's plan.
"It's okay," Natasha reassured her. "There was obviously some kind of mission, a reason for what the Skrull did." Nat told herself there was no reason to make excuses, but there was clearly a bigger game involved that had driven the spy to do what he'd done. She and the others had just not put all the pieces together yet.
"Well, I for one am glad things worked out after all," Hap said and took a long sip of beer. It appeared as if Morgan and hashtagging had finally worn him out, too.
Bruce looked down and smiled as the redhead looked up and their eyes met. "I can certainly live with the result," he said.
They talked for a while longer, discussing Morgan and Peter and the rebuilding of the Compound before making plans to visit the lake house on the weekend. The fake Natasha had distanced herself so far from the Stark household that Morgan likely wouldn't associate the pale, haunted woman with the real Natasha. Maybe when the child was older, they'd explain what had happened.
As they got ready for bed, Nat made a mental list of things she needed to buy or order—regular-size hangers for one—filing her return/resurrection documentation and recovering her various accounts was also on the list. She planned to assess the broken laptop to see if anything was recoverable as well. Nat wanted to assemble all the puzzle pieces she could find, and she had a feeling the computer might have several clues to help her figure out what had happened and maybe why she had been chosen. There was also the Compound's cloud file space, which Bruce would likely have some information about. They could probably swing that when he gave her a tour of the lab space and warehouse.
She looked at herself in the bathroom mirror and sighed. It was going to take weeks to get back into real physical shape, but it was amazing how little muscle mass, stamina, and flexibility she'd lost while in that stasis container. She'd always been a quick healer and tough as nails, but it had to be the equipment or the procedure. From what she'd read, the Skrulls had done deepspace exploration, so maybe it had something to do with their specific technology?
Bruce was checking through his email briefly at his desk, but he shut the computer as soon as he noticed she was standing in the bathroom doorway waiting on him. "Now, this is familiar," she said. "Do you still not sleep that well?"
"Sorry, I just wanted to let Vella know you were here, so she wouldn't freak out if she saw you before I could explain things. She's not on social media, and I've never brought anyone home like this before." He shrugged and blushed again—damn, but he was cute when he did that, she thought. He'd taken off the Wakandan prosthetic, so the disfigurement of his right arm was in plain sight. Natasha didn't think it looked that bad considering what he'd been through. Nat already had a training program worked out in her head for both of them. She also noted how good he looked with a black t-shirt stretched tight across his chest and cartoon print fleece lounge pants.
As he set his glasses down, Bruce noticed she was checking him out again and blushed deeper, but he didn't shy away from taking her in, too. She was wearing a silky green shift that flowed down to mid thigh. In his opinion, the scoop neckline was especially flattering. He knew she wasn't wearing a bra, but he couldn't tell if she had on panties or not. He liked little mysteries like that. "To answer your question, I don't really need to sleep that much—you know, the gamma—but I feel better when I do get some downtime. My mind is clearer. I can get more done."
"That sounds pretty normal for you," she said. They'd both burned the midnight oil and ended up in the Tower's Commons Room many times. "It was handy back in the Tower when we were both up and got to know each other over tea and sympathy."
"And a first-aid kit," Bruce added. He'd put in many of stitches and dressed plenty of her minor wounds. As she approached, he still couldn't tell if she had on panties or not. They were like Schrodinger's cat. During his few moments of uncertainty, the panties both existed and didn't exist. Bruce tried to focus back on reality. "Remember when we watched It Happened One Night?"
"Of course." Natasha smiled as she padded around the corner of the desk to him, and Bruce swiveled toward her, staying in his chair, so they are on a face-to-face level.
As she stepped into his space, he recognized her unique citrus and floral smell. No wonder the fake had kept her distance. If he'd been this close, maybe he would have known. He should have been braver, more insistent. That seemed to be a script he'd followed too closely most of his life. Even back in the Tower when they'd fallen asleep together on the couch watching Claudette Colbert and Clark Gable. "We were both so tired that night, but I should have taken the chance and kissed you anyway."
"I wanted you to," she said. "Maybe I shouldn't have waited either." How differently things might have played out between them if she had.
His damaged hand twitched as he thought about touching her. "I didn't know you weren't with Clint at the time. I didn't want to ruin a friendship or take advantage of you in some way, especially after part of me had scared you so much."
"I know, and that's one of the things I've always loved and admired about you, even if it drove me a little nuts from time to time."
"I'm sorry. I should have picked up on things . . . I guess?" Bruce wasn't quite sure if he was all that sorry.
"You guess?" Natasha teased. "I hope you were at least as hot and bothered as I was."
"Then you must have been very hot and bothered, too," he said as she finally wrapped her arms around his neck. "I promise I won't blow it this time." Bruce tilted his head to the side to match her corresponding angle and their lips met. Their first kisses were quick and urgent as he took her in his arms. He had to be careful, but she didn't as she pushed him back in his chair and climbed on his lap. His hands slipped down to her curvaceous hips and backside. He massaged the pleasing roundness of her contours through the silky nightshirt—definitely no panties he decided. That set a part of him revving down deep.
Natasha was straddling his hips with her knees on his thighs. "Finger me," she breathed as their lips broke contact.
She didn't have to ask him twice. Bruce thought about putting his right index finger to her lips but instead sucked it himself. He didn't linger over it long, but she noticed how he'd rolled his tongue behind his front teeth as he removed his finger. Nat hiked her nightshirt above her hips, and he slipped his hand down between their torsos, touching her soft skin, on the way to finding the silky bit of hair and her mons. Bruce pressed gently with the heel of his hand, and she ground her hips into him. He immediately felt how damp she was against his palm, which always stirred him. "I love a woman who knows what she wants," he murmured, and Natasha grinned provocatively as he nestled his finger between her damp folds then lightly circled her wet clit.
"Don't be a tease, Doc," she purred and thrust her hips rhythmically against his hand.
Bruce rubbed his finger over her vaginal opening, circling and making sure she was physically ready to accommodate his digit before penetrating her.
Nat's intake of breath was sharp, "Yes, that's what I want, Bruce." He'd been really good at this before. Honestly, he'd been good at everything. Some lovers came by it naturally—they understood how to pay attention to signals and reactions, cataloging what a woman liked. Others knew how to listen and take instruction without their own egos getting in the way. Good lovers weren't selfish either; they had to enjoy giving pleasure as much as experiencing it. As she'd suspected since they'd met, Bruce was all of those things—talented, imaginative, attentive, teachable, and he deeply enjoyed bringing her off. None of that had changed.
He continued to slide his fingertip around her nub and then oscillated it with a little pressure like a violinist pressing and shaking against the strings to create a vibrato. He could feel her tightening up. "Is this good?"
"Right there! Keep going, Love!"
He'd intended to penetrate her, but he kept up the quick, controlled vibrations until she arched her back and gasped. He stopped. "You just came, didn't you?" he asked with awe in his voice.
Natasha nodded and let the pleasurable feeling wash over her for a few more moments. "Oh, that was good," she said as the intensity began to ebb.
"I don't think we've done anything quite like that before, not with just my hand touching you there," he noted, watching her color rise and recede. He'd sensed as much as felt her clench and then spasm before relaxing.
"That was . . . lush . . . different . . ." Natasha tried to articulate how it felt as she caught her breath.
"Surprising?" he asked and rested his right hand to her thigh.
"Yes, and nice. Thank you." Natasha relaxed and finally let herself collapse against him. She felt boneless, even disembodied, and profoundly safe with him.
"What else may I do for you?" Bruce remembered how sensitive her nerve receptors were as she came down from an orgasm. "Tell me when it's okay to touch you." He was fine if she was done for the night. It had been such a crazy day that he knew she had to be exhausted.
"Kiss me," she requested, so he nibbled with just his lips at her shoulder where her milky skin was bare. Bruce took his time and moved up to nuzzle her neck and kiss the shell of her left ear, which made her almost giggle. He blew a playful puff of air that lifted her hair and this time Nat did laugh. Bruce had a brief flash of memory: Banner doing the same thing to her except they were on a couch. Then it was gone except for the beautiful feeling as it integrated into his memories.
As Bruce ran his hands over her sides and back, he could feel the long-healed scars he remembered; some of these he'd stitched up for her. He stroked her thighs and glutes, refamiliarizing himself further with her topography. There would be plenty of time for this, Bruce told himself. "I'm okay if you just want to go to bed. It's been a long day, and we finally have time to breathe and not rush things."
"I owe you one or two now," she acknowledged and then yawned.
That settled it for him. "To bed it is," he said. Bruce supported her against his chest as he got up and turned back the covers on the bed before she climbed out of his arms and got comfortable. "Lights," he told Friday and the Interface dimmed them. He took off his t-shirt and wiped his hand off before tossing it into the laundry basket across the room. Bruce settled into the over-sized bed beside her and pulled up the covers. "I can't tell you how much I've missed this, Nat."
They lay there quietly for a few minutes as their eyes adjusted. They both watched each other until Natasha broke the silence. "What?" she asked, "I know you want to say something." She ran her hands across his abdominals and up to his pectorals, carding her fingers through the trail of fine dark hair from his stomach to his well-developed chest muscles. "Talk to me, Love, before I'm down for the count." She could feel him quivering ever so slightly beneath her fingertips' touch.
His brows knitted into a frown as he considered for a moment how best to respond. "I know this sounds silly, but I was just thinking I kind of miss being the little spoon. I know we can't really do that anymore. I don't want to elbow or roll over on you. Obviously, safety is the priority now." She could see that he smiled a little awkwardly.
They'd often lain together with her front pressed up against his back, holding him almost protectively with her hands caressing his contours like she was now, but from behind. She also used to fall asleep on him with her head in the crook of his neck and shoulder; likewise, that sleeping position might present some problems now. "I have an idea. Turn over on your back," she instructed.
As she gently pushed him, Bruce rolled over and Nat climbed up on top of him. He remembered her touch and her weight on him had always felt good, comforting, something that had tied him to the present and kept his mind from wandering into darker places. He would listen to her breathing slow before he could get his mind to quiet down. Now, with her body on his large torso and the skin-to-skin contact, he felt both calmed and comforted again for the first time in years. She ran her hand along his jaw, feeling the roughness of his beard stubble. He nuzzled into her touch and then shuddered with pleasure and deeper emotions as the tension started to ebb away. "Thank you. I've missed you so much, babe."
Eleven years, he'd carried a torch for her, planned and then lost a future with her, gone through five confusing years of mostly painful rejection with flickers of hope that wouldn't quite die till she was supposedly gone just two weeks ago—self-sacrificed for the Soul Stone. When she hadn't come back with Clint, he'd shoved aside most of the grieving he knew would inevitably come and overwhelm him, holding himself together to bring everyone back. Then, as the feedback from the Stones burned and scarred him, Bruce was sure the real Natasha had been there with him somehow reaching out. If he only knew how to use the Stones, he was sure he could have brought her back safe and whole.
The failure to resurrect her left him hollowed out. He'd brought back half the universe, yet not the one soul who meant the most to him. If it weren't for his sense of duty to Rhodey and Rocket, he'd wanted to die underneath that mountain of concrete and steel debris. He'd wished he hadn't promised the Ancient One to see things through to the end, that he could just let go and quit hurting. Yet, he'd promised he would survive and keep his oath, so he kept going even after he couldn't save Tony either.
Bruce startled as he realized his heart was now hammering beneath his ribs. Here Natasha was smiling down at him, laying on top of his chest and body, resurrecting all his complex feelings for her from the ashes her loss and the doppelganger left.
Nat could feel his heart pumping hard. There was a bit of the old look of panic in his eyes, but they stayed dark—no glowing flair of green in their depths. Natasha stretched out her arms, her hands tracing out his limbs as far as she could reach, just past his elbows. It played off their connection through the Lullaby and went beyond those old bonds.
As she smiled down at him in the dim light, Bruce calmed himself, leaned up, and kissed her lips as delicately as he could. She brought her hands back up and held his face, not being delicate at all once again with her passion as she kissed him hard on the mouth. Bruce wrapped his thickly muscled arms around her and finally let go of something painful inside. It bokes like a wave against a rock. It was like he'd been holding his breath for years and only now could he let it all out and breathe air in again. "Oh, Nat . . . please stay. Don't leave me again," he pled in a ragged whisper.
"It's okay, Love. It's okay," Natasha reassured him as his breathing and heart rate evened out. "I'm here. I'm here now, and I'm not going away. I want to stay here with you." She was telling the truth. In the back of her mind all day she'd been thinking through how things might work out for them. Nat could imagine what that might look like now. She was sure they'd find a balance, so they could stay together, live with each other. Ironically, the Compound being under construction would make things easier, give them time to make a life together here, adjust and talk things through to see what they both wanted and where they fit together here and in the world now. She was ready for it, and she wanted to go forward with Bruce.
"You're sure you're okay with this?" He pointed to his face, but he meant all of himself. "I'm not too different for you? Too much of a monster on both the inside and out now?" After two decades, that negative perception of himself had sunk its claws in as deep as the radiation.
Natasha understood what was troubling him and shook her head. "Bruce, I love you. I find you desirable and attractive—the color really does not matter. The size does not matter. You're still you, and you were never monstrous in my eyes." He appeared a little skeptical looking up at her in the ambient light, but she was sure he was blushing again. Natasha touched the end of his nose with an index finger. "You're kind and thoughtful and loving. Despite all the shit you've been through, that's not changed. My feelings for you have not changed either. I'm not some fickle, shallow tease who wants to manipulate you. One of your qualities I've found intriguing since we met is you always know when I'm being honest or not. I've never been able to get away with less than the truth with you. I'm not just saying what sounds nice. You know I'm sincere."
"I know you mean it," he said. "Thank you. It helps to hear you say it." Undoing a lifetime of damage didn't happen with the snap of someone's fingers—his or anyone else's.
She stroked his larger, but still-handsome face. "We've both been shaped and changed by our experiences. Yours are just more obvious on the outside." Bruce brought up his damaged hand and touched hers. Natasha ran her fingers across the network of pale scars. "Hey, I know this may sound a little weird, but tell Helen not to repair the scars the Stones burned into you. Don't hide the marks. You earned them and should be proud to carry them, Bruce. If your two sides hadn't made peace, there wouldn't have been anyone capable of both wielding the Gauntlet and surviving the experience."
He started to object and say he'd still failed, but Bruce thought about that again. Maybe he hadn't. After all, here she was safe and whole. Maybe the Stones had laughed because his wish had already been true without their intervention? "All right. Tomorrow we'll shape our future together."
They fell asleep with their hearts beating close together and holding each other.
He'd just slipped into R.E.M. when Bruce found himself in a lucid dream, walking down a stony beach at sunset. The colors of the western sky were spectacular and clear as their gradience slipped from oranges and reds toward violet and cobalt above him and to the east. There was a wood fire further down the stretch of shore, so he headed toward it. The breaking of the waves along the shoreline was a low rolling rumble in the background. As he approached, Bruce realized there were two figures talking together who were seated on a massive tree trunk lying flat like a bench on the other side of the flames. They both looked up as he came closer.
"'Bout time," the larger one said in a deep, good-natured voice as Bruce stepped into the edge of the firelight. The smaller figure smiled as he flexed his hands, holding them near the fire for warmth, but he didn't say anything as he studied Bruce.
"It's great to see you two, but what are we doing here?" Bruce asked, looking around. He'd imagined talking to them before, but not often and not together on a beach like this. It was usually a sign that he was feeling a lot of stress when they would show up or he'd find them someplace inside a dream scenario.
"You wanted us," Hulk said. He'd stood up and walked around the fire to shake Bruce's hand and then pulled him into a bearhug, which he didn't hesitate to return. Bruce had to look up to his older self who was a foot taller, a few shades greener, and several hundred pounds of muscle heavier.
"I assume that's the reason," Banner agreed as he watched them embrace, rubbing his forearms as if he was nervous or perhaps cold.
Bruce nodded, "I guess that makes sense. I've been thinking about you both off and on all day. I have good news. Do you know what's happened?" Sometimes they knew everything he did; other times, he had to bring them up to speed.
Banner finally stood up and walked around the fire toward him. "She's really back, isn't she?!" His voice and look were intense. A little skepticism was only natural. He . . . no, they had all been hurting for longer than not over her.
"Yes, the real one this time," Bruce confirmed as his smaller self finally broke into an approving grin.
After a few moments, Banner's expression grew more serious again as he studied Bruce. "But you look sad, kid," he murmured. "What's wrong? Is . . . is there a problem with Nat?"
"No . . . not exactly." He searched his brain for how to voice his concerns.
"Then why are we here?" Hulk asked returning to his place to sit on the far side of the fire. "It seems like things are finally going your way, right?"
"Sit down. Let's talk," Banner said and motioned for Bruce to join them. Bruce sat down on a sizable piece of driftwood, and Banner sat back down in a spot halfway between the larger two.
"Yes, they are going my way for once. I guess I'm just worried. I want to make Natasha happy, but I'm not sure if I can. She misses the both of you. I feel like a poor substitute for what she had."
Hulk cocked his head and grinned, "You are both of us, Bruce. You are our 'A-Game,' not a substitute."
"I know that, but . . ."
Banner frowned, "We created you to be the best of us both. After three years, there is no going back now—only moving forward. Please be honest with her about it. I know she'll understand."
"I get that. I have been as open with her as I can. I know you designed me, built the chosen parts of yourselves into me, but I'm not sure if I'm up to this. Sooner or later, I'm going to disappoint her. I'll fall short of what you two were to her."
"Then no big deal," Hulk assured him. "You're human. You'll figure it out with her and you'll both move on past it together."
Bruce looked over to Banner for his response. The physicist nodded, "He's right, and she won't expect you to be perfect. The real Nat will accept all of you, flaws and all."
"But it's you she loves," he said to Banner.
"You are me, in every way that counts." Banner turned his head to the left to address Hulk. "Hey, I thought we figured out how to tap down the anxiety levels for him," Banner said in a joking, theatrical tone from behind his hand.
"That's your contribution to the mix, not mine," Hulk said with a snort. "I contributed the chill," he said with mock smugness. Bruce chuckled and shook his head. They reminded him of a comedy team-up or maybe an old married couple. Brothers, that was it.
"Look, Bruce, she knows and loves you already. Give her time to get used to you," Banner urged him.
"It's been what? Less than twenty-four hours since she's been back?" Hulk noted.
"All of 15 hours and twenty-four minutes," Bruce admitted.
"Let go of the anxiety and the guilt. That's mine, okay?" Banner told him.
"You've done nothing wrong, not yet anyway," Hulk added.
Banner assured him, "When you do screw something up, we'll still be inside to help you. That's one of the saving graces of this condition: you're never completely alone."
"And she's not going to leave you," Hulk added. "Listen to your gut on that, kid. You're finally in the same place with the same priorities and only half the distractions."
Bruce sat still, taking it all in for a few moments before he spoke again. "Thanks. I do appreciate your encouragement, guys. There is something else though that I need to run by you. I'm still trying to piece a lot of things together after the Return. Would you please think about the problems with Vision?"
"Which part? There are plenty," Banner noted and Hulk nodded.
"The power source. I can handle the programming and data integration, and I have very capable help with the neural net and the body."
"Trying to replace the Mind Stone isn't exactly a straightforward task. It was more than a power source for Vis," Banner reminded him.
"I know. I think we've identified a way to use a crystalline structure to perform with the same internal dynamics as an arc reactor, but it's going to require more than just the right container or programing. It's going to need something to jumpstart it for the initial fueling."
"Are you volunteering?" Hulk asked. "You're running on more than gamma after that snappy little recharge and near barbeque."
Bruce rolled his eyes. "I know that. My problem is I don't have enough data on it to figure out exactly what it is I'm carrying around now sequestered in my bones with the gamma radiation. We can't get precise readings on it. We analyzed the stones before we put them in the Gauntlet, but what I harnessed wasn't just energy in the form of radiation. It was something more. We collected as much data as we could during our Snap, but only a fraction of it was saved before the Compound was blown to hell." He huffed with frustration. "I don't want to syphon off the Stones' energy for Vis if something harmful is entangled with it. If we don't know what it is, I'm not sure how exactly to filter it out."
Banner had sat silently listening to Bruce as his own mental wheels turned. "Think through the process, Bruce. It's like any other experiment or procedure. Instruments and components come first. What are the Stones?"
"'Six singularities condensed down into ingots' is what Rocket said, and Wong explained they each control an essential aspect of existence. But, we never completely figured out exactly what they were—not even the Mind Stone—and Tony and you spent the most time working with it before Ultron escaped and dumped all that data," Bruce answered.
"So, what happened when any of the physical Stones were destroyed?" Hulk asked.
Bruce shrugged, "Their energy was released. That's what happened when Wanda destroyed the Mind Stone and when Thanos destroyed all of them."
"Do you have those readings?" Banner asked.
"I bet someone does," Hulk said.
"Okay, there's more data you might be able to gather and analyze but is that really what you'll need?" Banner asked. "Or, do you need information about something that's not so measurable?"
Bruce ran his scarred hand down his face, "Shit. You're right. When Tony ran the schematics, you said it looked like a brain, an intelligence in the act of thinking, but it wasn't a human one." Bruce looked up at the sky. He could clearly see the stars now. "In a sense, it's a living force."
"Ah, Grasshopper, you catch on real fast sometimes," Hulk said with a laugh.
"What's it doing to me inside?" Bruce asked as he continued to gaze upward.
Hulk snorted. "Well, it burned the hell out of you going in when you tried to bring back Nat."
"I think you know," Banner said. "It's not killing you . . . yet, but it needs to come out. Your bones are holding up, but it's caused a drain on your normal repair and regeneration abilities. I agree with what Shuri and you were speculating: removing what came in with the exotic cocktail of radiation you absorbed and using it to help Vision should be a win-win."
"How do I do that without setting off the equivalent of a dirty bomb when it comes out?" Bruce asked. "That's what I need the help with."
"Give it a better place to call home than your bones," Hulk offered.
Banner chuckled. "He's right. Look at how the Stones were constructed as you design the reactor's housing. The rest you'll figure out. The strength of your focused will is what enabled you to wield the Gauntlet. You may not have mastered what's in the Stones, but you know what you're dealing with now. Build on that experience."
"I wish these things came with an owner's manual," Bruce lamented.
"You could already write a chapter or two in that book," Hulk reassured him.
Banner finally reached over and touched Bruce's healing arm, running his cool fingers across the misshapen muscles and tendons as he traced the jagged lines down to the pale scars where the Stones had rested in the Gauntlet. "You don't need a book or a manual. You'll never own the Singularities. What you have is a map, and for you that will be enough, Bruce."
Endnotes: Thank you to Autumn_Froste for the beta read. Thank you for patiently sticking with me and the story.
I am still working on the academic book chapter, but I wanted to get this out to you before Christmas. Once that academic draft is turned in, I plan to be back with the final chapters to finish our story and get back to writing Special Needs after that. I wish I could give a firm date (end of January?), but I'd end up missing it if I did.
Comments, questions, and commiseration are always welcome! (Snarky BS, not so much.) Please give a like, a follow, a kudo, a review, a share, a tweet, and tell your friends to give it a read!
If you'd like to see the cover edits for each part, check out my Pinterest board or the Brutasha Nation or Hulk & Associates page on Facebook. This collage includes a Favreau and Paltrow pic, a wizard, a fire, Girl Scout cookies, and the OTP.
Next up: Part 17: It's finally Halloween, and Nat meets more of the people with whom Bruce has surrounded himself and explore the place before the trick-o'-treating hordes descend. What has she gotten herself into? You never know who might show up.