Note: Today I get my second vaccine shot and it's very possible I'll be out of writing commission for a while dealing with the side effects from that. This weekend, my husband and I get our first weekend without kids for over a year- and we'll be spending it in the woods without internet. So, if I don't post an update for a non-ridiculous-unless-you're-me period of time, don't worry too much! It's just some life catching up to me.

Chapter Three: Hitting the Third Rail

Back in high school, it was normal to worry about whether fate would choose soulmates for them who were ugly, stupid, or cruel. Bruce and his friends all looked forward to their Words appearing, as everyone did and just as everyone did, they'd overanalyzed the resulting words and phrases. Because of the social norm of men often being older than their partners, only about half of the guys had anything appear at 16.

Bruce's Words had shown up when he was 30.

He wasn't sure what day, exactly. Just that he'd seen them in the mirror after a shower in 1999, black and striking, completely unexpected. Knowing that his soulmate had just turned 16 was disconcerting- a fourteen year age difference was a lot, but not world-ending. For the most part, because of their location, he'd been able to ignore the words. They seemed to just imply that at some point in his future, he'd meet a young woman who probably worked in healthcare, treating him for something that implied he had a vitamin deficiency.

Bruce was more grateful for those words and that age difference a few years later when he met Elizabeth Ross. At 32 years old, he was far more interested in her than some 18 year old woman just starting her life.

And Betty had no words at all.

It was a secret, one he'd gleaned after they'd become intimate. He hadn't been looking, had wished there was a way to hide his. They were 'tomorrow' words, and Betty's were, too. Her soulmate would someday turn 16 (her father used to tease her about this, but Bruce never did. She was hurt enough by the implications), or he'd died before he'd gotten the chance to. However it had happened, Bruce was happy to offer her his whole heart, because if anyone had deserved it, it was Betty, not some random, unnamed woman whose claim he didn't even agree to.

After the accident, Bruce hadn't had time to examine what the words 'Something tells me you almost certainly have a vitamin deficiency' meant to his new situation. He spent a not-insignificant amount of time strength training, hoping that bulking up might make some sort of difference in understanding the part of himself that didn't have to. His new physique made it very hard to look down and see the black cursive marks on his skin. Bruce hadn't found any more clarity in that lifestyle than in any of the others, though, and eventually stopped bothering.

It wasn't difficult to ignore the words once Bruce had fully understood the Hulk was a permanent part of him. No way in hell would he involve another woman in his life, not when he couldn't guarantee her safety. Bruce even spent a few years avoiding mirrors entirely after waking up with a flash of seeing himself as the Other Guy in the imperfect reflection of a shop window in India. That shame had thankfully faded, but the underlying cause was still full in effect.

Now, with a new life as Tony Stark's colleague in this technologically advanced wonderland, Bruce was willing to overlook his friend's quirks if it meant he could feel safe (to be around) and respected. By ten days past the battle, Stark had been good to his word, paying a fortune to construct a basement room with a special button Bruce could hit on the elevator that would lead directly to it. There were protocols throughout the tower, all meant to keep the other residents and workers safe.

The food was great. The research was engaging. He was able to sleep soundly at night. The only catch was that Tony Stark had glommed onto the soulmate thing and just would not let go.

Part of the problem was Stark's own history with his soulmate, Pepper. Their long road to happiness was appropriately dramatic, for Stark family history as well as Tony's own ostentatious personality. Bruce wished this weren't the case so often during that first week of time spent working with Tony that if there had been a magical being that granted wishes, they would have granted Bruce's just to get a moment's peace.

The only reason Bruce was in any way sane was because he'd gained JARVIS's trust. The AI butler seemed to appreciate how close Stark could come to actually bringing out the Other Guy when it came to Cicely Besnard, and had started blocking the invasive auto-play videos Stark liked to embed into Bruce's technology. Before JARVIS had put his virtual foot down, Bruce had been treated to Cicely's typical walk to her job (a children's hospital), a time-lapse of her working at a community garden, and more footage of her helping people during the Chitauri attack.

She seemed like a genuinely nice person, skilled in her job, good with people, not to mention completely lovely. Exactly the sort of person one would hope to be your soulmate. The problem was, Bruce was exactly the wrong person to be hers. He was the nightmare scenario, too old for her, too many unfixable issues, and one great big skeleton in his mental closet.

Thanks to JARVIS's crisis of conscience, Tony's Cicely videos were sent straight to a folder on Bruce's desktop (which were still synced to his phone, yes) unviewed. Once the AI intervened, Bruce had the choice of whether or not to watch. It took Tony a while to realize this. After the third offhand comment that Bruce didn't quite know the context to, the billionaire figured out that Bruce had sidestepped his war of attrition.

"You bewitched my butler!" Tony wasn't even upset. Instead, he seemed to be impressed.

"He told me he was designed with a sense of right and wrong. Considering that you struggle with the concept, I'm even more awed by your achievement," Bruce told him.

"I'm choosing to take that as a compliment."

The conversation moved on, and again, Bruce made the mistake of thinking that was the end of it.

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"Starting to worry that Cicely has a stalker," Tony said to him, seventeen days after the attack on the city, four days since he'd brought her up the last time.

"I know she does," Bruce muttered. He double clicked to start the simulation he'd taken the whole day to set up, and sat back in his chair.

"Two, then, since you don't count. You really haven't even opened the folder! I'm torn between being disappointed and jealous of your restraint."

"Tony, forgive me if I don't trust your motives."

"The same guy has followed her to work for at least a week. Even when she had a day off and showed up to volunteer for one of the kid's Make a Wish event. She left a whole 85 minutes later than normal."

"What's normal is not weaponizing surveillance video access against two people who clearly don't want anything to do with each other!" Bruce sighed. "Have you ever spent any amount of time watching a city street before? People have schedules. It's far more likely that the guy happened to have a delayed schedule the same day she did. You get to know the faces of people who take the subway at the same time as you do. Same with walking. I'm sure she's fine."

"You're saying you think this is a regular people thing I'm too Billionaire to understand?"

"Yeah, Tony, I am."

"What if I had JARVIS run some-"

"Tony," Bruce gritted out, feeling the familiar flames of fury licking out of their containment in his mind.

Stark put his hands up, backed away, and told the AI to turn up the music in his adjoining lab. The sound could be heard through the wall, but it wasn't too annoying. At the connecting door, though, his friend stopped.

"Captain Optimism mentioned something the other day in his weekly emails- I should send them along to you. They're earnest as fuck, it's almost embarrassing. Anyway, he suggested maybe we should do some training fights in your containment room. With Hulk. I mention it now because I sense that if I bring this subject up again, we might just call everyone in impromptu. How much do you think you'd hate that?"

Bruce chuckled. "Tony, your ability to turn every situation somehow to your advantage makes me understand a lot more about how your family business is so successful. If that's hereditary? So much suddenly makes sense."

"I bet it's galling that your method of chastising your colleagues ends up just going right over my head, Brawl Bunyan."

Stark's nicknames were a thing that Bruce found amusing when they weren't related to him, and irritating but tolerable when they were- but that one really cracked him up. He had to set his glasses on the desk and rub his eyes not to let Tony see the tears of laughter.

"Yeah, I'm done here, that can't be topped," Tony said. Bruce wholeheartedly agreed.

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Bruce woke up that night in a cold sweat. His nightmare was directly attributable to Tony's concerns about his soulmate. In it, Bruce was unable to transform into Hulk to protect Cicely from an aggressor, and just before the man killed her, he taunted Bruce. 'What good are your objections now?'

He didn't put much stock in dreams usually, but this one was pretty clear. The best way to prevent a recurrence was also clear: Bruce should go through the videos he was avoiding. Seeing for himself whether Tony's concern was warranted would put paid to the whole thing one way or another.

Because if Tony was right, Bruce had every intention of making sure his soulmate was safe, even if she never knew about it. He owed her that much.

It was two in the morning, but Bruce got up, pulling on a dressing gown over his t-shirt and sleep shorts instead of getting dressed.

"JARVIS?" he said, looking up at the ceiling.

"Yes, Dr. Banner?"

"Is it unethical of you to prevent your boss from finding out I opened this folder at two in the morning? Given that being taunted about it might set off some emotional distress on my part?"

"Are you trying to bewitch me, Doctor?"

"You're more than a butler, JARVIS. And I think you know I have a zero bewitchment policy that's active right now," Bruce said.

"Consider me bewitched. I'll conceal the time for twenty-four hours, after which I will simply note that the folder was open on this date."

"Thanks."

Double-clicking the folder felt almost taboo. He picked a file at random, opening it to see that it showed Cicely at the library, seated at the same computer as before. Her hair was in its ponytail, and she was in scrubs. The timestamp showed this was two days after the first library visit, probably after her shift.

This time, her search term was 'Bruce Banner articles.' Her blue eyes were serious, her teeth worrying at her lower lip as she sorted through the many, many results. To his surprise she didn't click on the ones about gamma radiation. Bruce forced himself to pause the video to see how long it was.

It was an hour.

Swearing lightly under his breath, he clicked away from the video. Watching it would do nothing good for his plans to avoid even thoughts of her, as tempting as it was.

The next three videos he watched showed Cicely heading two or from work. It was a twenty-five minute walk for her, one that seemed to do in scrubs on cooler days and workout clothing on warmer ones. Bruce was glad to have an excuse not to focus on her but the people around her, because he could sense that he was warming to her as a person, maybe even as a person meant to be connected to him. That way lay danger.

He pulled out a notebook and started writing characteristics of people seen around her. Bruce knew he could probably ask JARVIS to do this, but he suspected that the nuance of 'this person probably just has a similar schedule' could be lost on the AI just like its creator.

An hour later, Bruce had meticulously gone through two dozen videos of Cicely Besnard going to and from work. His conclusion was that Tony could be right.

Someone seemed to be following her.