NOTE: Turns out I have a tiny bar of LTE here at the cabin, so you get one of this story's little chapters! Hope you're having a good weekend!
Chapter Four: Breaking the Fourth Wall
Bruce didn't wait until twenty-four hours had passed to tell Tony that he'd broken down and looked at the folder of videos of Cicely.
"Okay, you're right. Someone's following her. What do we do about it?" he asked the second he walked into the lab (late, with coffee for once instead of tea, and one for Tony, too, in case Stark decided to crow about that instead of the fact that his stupid plan might be working).
"So, interesting thing to note before you go all Blitz Hansen, To Catch a Predator on this guy, she seems to have caught on," Tony said, snagging a rolling chair with his foot and collapsing onto it in a move that was equal parts smooth and frightening. "This was from yesterday morning."
Bruce didn't really like that the folder Tony opened was on his desktop, but then he looked more closely at Tony's desktop. The cluster of folders kept rearranging themselves about every ten seconds or so. Tony looked over his shoulder at Bruce and then maximized the folder as if self-conscious.
"Yes, okay, I'm trying a new thing where JARVIS moves the files I'm most likely to mess with at any given point into a more prominent view. Honestly, it's a compromise, because I used to just tell him what to open but Pepper thinks I'm relying a little too much on the automation."
"That's… more automation, though?"
"Cool the Butlerian Jihad." Tony double clicked on the video he was looking for, and Bruce felt instantly guilty for recognizing Cicely's apartment complex. "Here," Tony said, pointing. Bruce watched as a few people left the building, but he didn't see Cicely's recognizable scrubs or black hair. "Missed her," Tony said. "So did I, the first time." He rewound the footage a bit and hit play again. "Right there."
The woman Tony was pointing at had blonde hair, not black. She was also wearing jogging clothes, and had earbuds in, with a backpack. However, it was definitely Cicely, Bruce realized, when Tony rewound it a third time and hit pause.
"She dyed her hair and changed her typical outfit." He was stating the obvious, but it was important.
"Your girl is smart," Tony said, spinning his chair around to face him.
Bruce didn't object verbally, but he frowned. She wasn't his, that was the whole point! As he thought the words, some part of him wanted to change the word 'point' to 'problem,' which was new and concerning. He shoved the thought away, because Tony was still speaking.
"-to find out whether the guy has a secondary spy/accomplice at the hospital. Presumably when he doesn't see her, Celery-boy here will have to assume she missed work. If he calls to find out she's at work, she might hear about it and that's confirmation right there. If he spots her right away tomorrow, that's another kind of confirmation." His grin at Bruce was more than a little teasing. "She's your soulmate and even you had trouble recognizing her."
"It would be better if I had never met her at all." Saying that didn't have the ring of truth it had days ago.
"You're going to run out of those by-rote responses and have to think up something original eventually, you know."
"That will take a while. I've been writing them for years, Tony."
Tony stood up and made a face. "I was trying to work the name 'Bruce' into 'Benedictine Monk' somewhere but it is just not working."
Bruce smiled. "You went with the wrong name. 'Bannerdictine Monk' would have worked just fine."
"Listen to you! I'll have to relinquish my crown."
As with everything, Tony put all of himself into his look of admiration, and Bruce couldn't help but feel proud, even if it was a bit of wordplay. He liked that about this man. Sure, he was narcissistic and selfish, but he was thorough, and when he liked you, he was thorough in his friendship, at least he had been so far. Even if so far, 40% of it was trying to get Bruce to accept a concept he'd painfully turned his back on after the accident. Today, that kind of thoroughness might be helpful to keep Cicely safe.
"So that video was yesterday, you said? What about today?" he reminded Tony.
"I don't typically get them in until the evening. JARVIS, do you have the Hathaway building's surveillance footage gathered yet?"
"Creating a new file in the Soulvengers folder for you, Sir."
Tony cleared his throat and sat back down at the desk, as if he were avoiding Bruce's gaze.
"Soulvengers?" Bruce asked.
"You aren't the only lost soul in need of reconciliation," Tony said loftily.
Just as Tony had predicted, the tall, skinny man with the thin mustache spotted Cicely right away. In the video, Bruce could see her noticing the man by holding her phone up as she approached the cross street. He could tell that she recognized the stalker, because instead of crossing the street, Cicely turned on her heel, pushed brusquely past him, and called for a taxi.
The stalker lurked against the facade of the building and watched until it drove away.
Bruce felt the Other Guy lift his head and take notice. "What time does she get off of work?"
"Woah, toss some sand on those coals, doc. Flattening the guy isn't going to help things."
"JARVIS?" Bruce tried instead.
"Cicely Besnard's shift at Children's ends this evening at 8 PM. She's usually seen leaving the building between twenty-five and forty minutes later."
"What are you going to do, tell the guy you were stalking her first?" Tony asked. It was a reasonable question, but Bruce's blood ran hot in his veins.
"Not at all," Bruce said, loosening the button at his throat. "I doubt I'll have to do much more than encourage him to find a new target, one with fewer friends in high places." He rolled his shoulders, loosening his body. If things went the way he planned them to, he'd be more calm, more persuasive, by that evening. "JARVIS, if you've got some sort of process set up to track her, can you track him? Can we find out if he does find a new target, and gather evidence to present to that new target in as minimal and helpful way as possible?"
"Yes, Dr. Banner. Might I suggest a more professional-sounding name for that folder? Though, dare I say it, 'soulvenger' would likely be more applicable to that venture, in the end."
"And here I thought you'd chucked your morals," Tony laughed, a bit nervously.
"Hmm? Oh, the comment about finding a new target. No, I just don't want Cicely to have to deal with the court nonsense. If this guy makes a habit of stalking, he'll dig himself into a new case soon enough," Bruce said.
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Bruce wore jeans, a baseball cap, and a nondescript jacket to stand outside the hospital waiting for Cicely to emerge. Of course, he wasn't really waiting for her, he was waiting for the stalker, if he was around. He'd indeed calmed a little, but not much. There was a non-zero chance that he might lose control tonight. A part of him was screaming that he had no right to reject this woman but also act like a bulldog snapping at anyone else who showed interest, but Bruce felt pretty confident that the other man was not a potential love interest. The barge pole of a man had bad intentions, and Bruce would set him straight.
Hopefully without her noticing that it was happening at all.
That was why he'd come to her workplace, strangely enough. Cicely Besnard knew that someone was following her in the mornings. She'd changed her appearance to throw the guy, and had reacted in an appropriately freaked-out manner when she'd seen it hadn't worked for very long. She'd be ready to see the guy tomorrow, or whenever her next work day was. Would she be as on edge leaving work? Bruce's gut instinct said no. That made it the best place for him to confront the guy.
He used his years of experience having seen people standing outside hospitals to blend in. There was always one guy who looked deeply concerned, checked his phone all the time, and sometimes stood and just watched the entrance, as if hoping like hell his ex would come walking out and he could tell her he was sorry. With his attire so different from his normal clothing, Bruce didn't think he was recognizable as Bruce Banner at all, particularly not to Cicely, if she saw him.
Then, he caught sight of the stalker guy. He was in a suit, one that had clearly been bought off-rack at a resale store by the fit. Bruce made his way over to him over the course of five minutes, focused on anything but the man himself. Cicely herself would probably not appear for another ten minutes.
"You here waiting for your girl too?" Bruce asked sheepishly, not looking at the guy.
"Fuck off."
"What a coincidence, because that's my message for you. From myself and a few friends."
The Other Guy was lurking, waiting, watching. Bruce could feel his presence in the tightness of his skin, the heaviness in his chest, the heat in his veins. He was holding steady without concern of transforming, at least for now, but the odd thing about it was that Bruce could feel the interest, the investment that the Hulk had in what he was doing. It mirrored his own vested interest, which he hadn't clearly understood was so deep until that very moment.
"Friends, sure. Thanks for your time, weirdo."
Bruce shot a glance over to see the guy tapping out a cigarette into his hand, unconcerned and unmoving. "Find a new obsession. This young lady has friends in high places."
"I can't believe you assholes are checking up on me after not paying me for yesterday," the guy said in a hoarse, furious whisper. "If you want multiple eyes on this bitch you're going to have to pay for the ones you have, or I'm going to bounce."
Bruce sucked in a deep, desperate breath and gritted out, "I'll pass it along," before turning and running in the direction of Central Park. His only thought was to get as far away from his soulmate before leaning into his absolute rage.
This went beyond stalking. This went beyond a single man's obsession- whether that man was himself, or the thin criminal haunting Cicely Besnard on behalf of some other, more powerful figures.
Bruce hoped to hell it wasn't about him. He'd never forgive himself.
At the last minute, when he was leaning with both hands on a mailbox and watching them turn green, knowing that his neck has already done so despite desperately fighting against it, Bruce saw a blur of red and gold land beside him.
"Hold on for three more minutes and I'll get you to the room," Tony said, grabbing him with arms strong enough to lift twice his weight, thanks to his Iron Man suit. "If you Hulk out in midair, though, we're going to have to try it the fun way."
"Get going," Bruce growled at him.
Tony took off, streaking toward the tower. "You might not be the only one with a vitamin deficiency. I should never have let you do this."
Bruce couldn't tell him it was worth it thanks to what he'd learned, but Tony would find out soon enough. Just that thought was enough to break his fragile grasp on sanity. After that, all he saw was green.
