Author's Note: As always, you guys are the best. HuggaHulk owes many a huggles. Can you believe we're already at Chapter 10? Yeesh.

A little longer than usual to get this chapter out, my bad. I kept starting this chapter over and over. Then my cat erased it. Evil pussycat. Also worked two doubles... ugh.

Thanks Black' Victor Cachat for getting the ball rolling on this update! :)

Chapter 10:

Gunshots and knives and feral growls followed her everywhere she ran. Through the engine room of the Helicarrier, through the streets of New York, and even through the vacant and darkened halls of Red Room. Looking over her shoulder was a mistake, a huge mistake, when she saw what followed her. All she could do was stop and freeze when she saw the monstrosity behind her. It wasn't what she expected to see, it shouldn't have surprised her, but it did. It wasn't a raging green beast, it wasn't the Winter Soldier, or Niko, or any other number of things that plagued her.

It was her. She was left to stare at her own face, the monster inside of her, and it looked no different from what she saw in the mirror. No demonic features, no fangs, no claws or red eyes; The monster was just her, plain and simple, just Natasha Romanoff. She didn't have the will to run from that, to run from herself, not this time. The monster Natasha sauntered forward with hollow eyes and a smile that reeked of corruption and self-loathing. The blade in her hand practically danced as it twirled in her fingertips with grace.

Even when it slashed across her neck.

When Natasha woke up, she didn't just open her eyes, she jolted up and clutched the blanket that was covering her in her fists. Somehow, that nightmare was worse than any other, as though the monster inside was willing to destroy whatever good might actually be inside her to break out. She didn't even realize she wasn't alone until large yet gentle hands came to rest on her shoulders. The last thing that she expected to see was a very concerned looking Steve Rogers hovering over her and she had to blink a few times to clear her vision, double check his face and sure enough, it was still Steve there. It also, however, didn't change the fact that she felt like she got hit by a battering ram. She wasn't even sure if she had really de-Hulked Bruce or not, or if that was just another really screwed up dream.

"Relax, Nat..." came his always soothing voice. She could only think to nod to that in response and she closed her eyes for a second. "Sorry it took so long to show up, I sort of—broke my phone. Touch screens don't agree with me..."

She let that go. "I feel...weird," and Steve seemed somewhat surprised by her admittance, hell, so was she. She really did though, her mouth felt like cotton was shoved inside it, her head was swimming with unfinished thoughts, and she was so damned tired.

"Somebody shot you with a tranq," and that certainly explained a lot, including the unusual nightmare. It was like he had read her mind when he spoke again because he was answering questions that she couldn't coherently form from her mouth, "Stark's been going nuts over it all. He actually convinced anyone there to give him any videos they took... Jarvis and him haven't found much yet."

Again, before she could say something, he was reading her thoughts again and Steve disappeared for a moment before coming back and putting the glass of water in her hand. She raised an eyebrow up, though she wasn't sure it came out with it's usual effect, then she shrugged, "Thanks..."

She sipped at the water and listened as he started answering more of her unasked questions, "We still don't know which of you was actually the target, maybe both, but we'll find something," he assured her, "We always do."

It probably should have made her smile to hear that from him, but she just didn't have it in her, not this time. "I should have noticed...something," she finally added.

"You told Stark you didn't hear the shot," Steve pointed out before he added to it, "And he uh—he found the bullet you said the Hulk spit out, it was a .308."

"A sniper?" she questioned as she rubbed at her temples after she set the water aside. "Doesn't make sense... what idiot shoots a guy who turns into the Hulk? Unless—" she paused with that and rubbed at her eyes this time, "Unless it was supposed to be me." She scrunched her nose up now, "Which makes less sense... now that I think about it," she admitted with a sigh. "Because why tranq me and not just kill me?"

"You think the tranq was supposed to be for the Big Guy?" Steve questioned.

She shrugged at that, though it did sound ridiculous, "I sincerely doubt that would work, but who knows what other people think. I suppose it's possible we had the world's dumbest assassin, but that's even less plausible, I would have noticed a dumb assassin so this person had the be at least slightly better than me..." Now she paused in thought, "Is Bruce okay?"

If Steve was surprised by her usage of the scientist's first name, he was doing a damned good job of keeping it hidden. "He's still out cold," and her face must have given away her disbelief because he continued, "Stark thinks it was the uh—speed of the Hulkout and de-Hulking."

She merely nodded in acceptance of that answer, "I should have noticed something..."

Then she watched as Steve picked up a dart from the little end table by her bed, "Nobody can see every single threat, Natasha," he informed her. She didn't disagree out loud, but she did in her head. She was trained to see all potential threats, and maybe she had been a little out of sorts lately, but that didn't constitute her failure. She watched him twirl the dart in his fingers and then hold it out to her, "Witnesses say this hit the back of your neck just before the shot hit Bruce." She frowned at that and he continued, "I'd guess it was adrenaline that even kept you going as long as you did."

"A dart?" she muttered out as she took it from his hands. She studied it in morbid curiosity before she groaned, "I know who uses these..."

That seemed to get his attention and Natasha sighed as she tossed it back onto the end table, "This wasn't about Bruce, it was about me," she explained. "That's Niko Constantin's handiwork," and it also made for twice now that he had gotten the better of her in as many situations.

"Perhaps you have been astray for too long. You are losing your touch..."

"Strucker was right...I got too comfortable, with SHIELD, Barton, Fury, the Avengers..." she leaned back against the headboard. "And then it all fell apart, just like it always does," and she could see Steve's worried eyes trying to understand that, so she explained, "Too many parties want me dead, and people like Bruce get dragged into the crossfire, that can't happen again."

But Steve was just smiling a little at her and it took all her willpower not to smack it off him. "You went out with Doctor Banner."

That came completely out of left fiend and... did he just tease her? "Excuse me?"

"I'm just saying-"

She narrowed her eyes at him, "Don't."

"I'm just saying," he repeated, the teasing tone still there, "You haven't relaxed much since SHIELD fell, it's nice."

Natasha groaned and pulled her pillow over her head. "It was an apology, not a date, Rogers," she grumbled into the pillow. She squinted into the pillow before she removed it and shot him with her best glare, "Is this a revenge joke for all those dates I tried to set up for you?"

"No idea what you're talking about," Steve insisted with a grin and then he was giving her that knowing look, "And you're deflecting."

"Mmmm," again, she didn't disagree. "I let my guard down once in the last few months. It got me a tranq and Bruce a bullet in the head."

"Natasha..."

She shook her head and swung her feet over the side of the bed as she stood up. She ignored Steve's averted gaze as she dug through her duffle bag and yanked out black yoga pants and a sports bra and proceeded to change into them, "I need to work this out."

"With what, the punching bag?"

"Or you."

She glanced over and watched Steve give her a strange look before he seemed to catch her meaning, "You want to spar? Right now?"

"Obviously."

Natasha rolled her eyes when he regarded her as though she had just slipped beyond the mental scope, "You just woke up from sixteen hours of being under a tranquilizer that could take down a small bear, not to mention your ribs are bruised, the knife wound in your leg which..." he paused for a moment, "You're not hiding your limp well, by the way, so—no."

"Punching bag it is, then," she stated before she stepped passed him.

Bruce hoped it was all some horrible and messed up dream like usual, but when he opened his eyes and saw Tony fiddle with what the man had deemed the 'StarkPad', he figured out pretty quickly that wasn't the case. "That happened..." and of course it had, otherwise he would have remembered fully and not just bits and pieces.

"Oh, it certainly did," came Tony's reply as his eyes glanced over the top of the StarkPad. His head was pounding, he was sweaty, and he wasn't sure he could handle his friend's witty commentary right now.

"How many people got hurt?"

"None," came the unexpected answer, "A window did suffer the onslaught of a fire hydrant and there might be a few new potholes in the streets, but I'll foot the bill on that."

Bruce could only release a breath of relief at that before he remembered a certain redhead shielding her face on the sidewalk, "Natasha?"

He watched Tony place the StarkPad down on an end table, "Red is off brooding in my training center and blaming herself."

"But—her face... it was covered in blood..." he insisted as he shook his head at the image of her panic-stricken face, painted crimson as she stared up at him.

Tony waved him off nonchalantly, "Your blood, not hers."

That was somewhat of a relief, but more than that bothered him, "What exactly happened, Tony?" he finally dared to ask. "Why would she think it's her fault?"

He could see Tony debate that before the other man picked up the StarkPad, hit a few buttons, and then handed it over to him, "Someone shot you, you can see the aftermath for yourself," he finally stated. Bruce waited for the YouTube video to start and stared at the views, "Yeah—you two are sort of the new YouTube sensation. Beauty tames the Beast, could have used a catchier title in my opinion, but it does have almost a million hits already, so I suppose it was effective."

Bruce ignored that and watched the cell phone video. It was all eerily silent with a few hushed whispers and then he heard himself and that was definitely not good. He rubbed at this eyes when he saw Natasha still too close and then most people took off screaming as she ushered them away. Sure enough, his fear was brought to life as he sent her careening into the brick wall. He watched the rest of it in silence but it was the end of it that had him stunned, the memory he had chalked up to his imagination.

"Impressive, right?" came Tony's interruption to his thoughts. "I mean—that's twice now that Big Green there has gone and de-hulked for our resident assassin," he mentioned casually. "Think he might have a little Hulk-crush impulse with her, you know, as opposed to Hulk-Smash."

"That's hilarious..." Bruce mumbled out as he replayed it. It wasn't a crush, that much was certain, but he had a feeling that there was something that made the Other Guy not want to swat Natasha like a fly. It was probably something akin to whatever reasoning she had for stepping in with the Hulk that first time in the containment cell, or when she sat outside it and talked to him, "They understand each other..." He saw Tony stare at him incredulously and he ignored it as he played it a third and then a fourth time, "I still don't get how this is Natasha's fault."

"She said it was that Constantin character," his friend explained, "This was about her."

Bruce paused the screen on the fifth replay and tossed it into Tony's lap, "Then explain that."

He watched as Tony picked it up and stared at it, "What am I looking at?"

"I believe Doctor Banner is referring to this, sir," came Jarvis' voice. Bruce watched the screen appear in front of them both, the enlarged picture of what was on the StarkPad. The video started and they both watched as General Thaddeus 'Thunderbolt' Ross stepped out of a doorway to watch, but the video lost him as it moved to follow the Hulk and Natasha and the General never reappeared.

Bruce shook his head at that and dragged himself out of the bed. His legs were still shaky, his body still felt exhausted and he wanted to throw up a little, but he pushed it all down, "It might have had to do with her on Constantin's end, but not on my end..."

Tony looked a little unnerved and he couldn't help but wonder if it was because the billionaire hadn't seen it himself, or just at the thought that an enemy of The Hulk and Black Widow had just attempted a joint assault. "Don't suppose that could have been a coincidence?" his friend offered lamely. "Yeah, didn't think so," he muttered. "But I can't imagine Ross would think that shooting you in the head would actually take you out."

"Probably not," Bruce agreed. "I imagine he was trying to show everyone The Hulk, the real Hulk, not Battle of New York Hulk..."

Tony scoffed a little at that, "Well, that didn't turn out so well for him."

"It would have," Bruce disagreed, "Natasha calming down the Hulk was an unexpected variable for him..."

"Well, that and the fact that she was even on her feet to do that," Tony mentioned. "She took a tranq dart just before you went down," he explained and Bruce could only stare at him. "She should've been half-way to la-la land before you ever Hulked out. Doc I brought in says adrenaline kicked it to the backburner for those few minutes, but the second the adrenaline was gone, she was out like a light and—what the hell are you doing?"

He glanced back at Tony as he pulled a bag from out of the closet and hauled it over his shoulder, "Leaving."

Tony gave him something akin to a stink-eye, "Why?"

"The last time Ross went and involved himself in my life, I broke Harlem, in case you forgot."

"This wasn't another Harlem."

Bruce sighed at that, "It would have been."

"Would have, being the key words," Tony reminded him, "But it wasn't, Romanoff had it handled."

His friend was really just serving to anger him, which was actually a first time for the two of them, "So... what? We should sit and pray that any time the Other Guy makes a breakout that Natasha can calm him down? One time doesn't make her the Hulk whisperer."

"Twice."

"Once," Bruce disagreed again.

Tony's eyes rolled in response, "So that HYDRA facility in Russia doesn't count?" he questioned. "Because as I recall, he de-hulked there too, because of Romanoff."

"Different circumstances."

"This really what you want to do?" Tony questioned. "Take off because things got a little dicey?"

Bruce shook his head, "Look—just... you want to give me a lift, or should I go my own way?"

He could see his friend debate the options in his head, clearly stuck on the line of which he should choose, "You sure about this?" When he nodded, Tony seemed to make his decision, "Jarvis, fire up the jet."

"Of course, sir."

"We'll make a five minute detour to keep you busy while I go inform Pepper, you know she gets bent out of shape when I just go jettisoning off without warning," Tony mentioned to him as they got on the elevator. "By the way, while you're gone, I'll work on the pants issue."

"Pants issue?" Bruce was afraid to know.

"Much as I love your pasty white ass, Bruce—and I do, I love it, truly," his friend mock-shielded his face, "Don't smash me for calling it pasty." It was all he could do not to smile at him for being ridiculous, per usual. "But the Superpants were only good for one go, we need something more lasting."

"You could always gamma radiate them, worked on me," Bruce deadpanned.

Tony didn't seem to think the joke was such a bad idea, "That could—heeeey, I like it! You grow, you shrink, and I'm not talking about baby Banner there."

He never should have made the joke, "You can't be serious, I was joking."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever you say," Tony dismissed him, then pushed him out the door to the elevator when it opened. "I'll come back and get you in a few minutes, don't take off on your only friend, I'll be sad and there might be a tear, possibly two." The doors closed before he could make a retort.

It was not where he thought he would wind up. Bruce stared at Natasha inside the rather large training area, the only one besides now himself, who was currently there. Black yoga pants, a black sports bra—and combat boots. Really? It probably shouldn't have surprised him. Her attacks on the punching bags lacked her usual grace and finesse when she would actually fight and he wondered if there was a reason for it.

"I take it you're leaving."

Her voice rang out even though she never stopped attacking the punching bag and if was anyone besides her, he would wonder how she not only knew he was there, but knew that he was taking off. "Uh... yeah..." And Bruce could see the outline of the bandage on her thigh, the bandage that went along her spine, the large and newly formed splotch of blues and purples on her back.

"Are we friends?" came her unexpected question. He wasn't sure how to take that when she asked it in a way that held no emotion, then he watched as she turned from the punching bag and stepped towards him. To be frank, he wasn't sure either, even if she had made the friendship quote to him from Casablanca. With Natasha, it wasn't exactly easy to know if she was kidding about certain things. "Because...I'm not exactly an expert on the whole friendship thing, so—you can correct me, if I'm wrong," she offered, "And I'll just let you leave—since not being friends would probably make this next conversation a little awkward and useless."

It was hard to know what to say to that, or how to even comprehend what an appropriate answer might be, not when she was watching him with doubtful eyes. "We're friends..." he finally offered up hesitantly.

At least she gave him a brief smile at that, "You don't sound so sure..." Then she shrugged and seemed to accept his answer for what it was, "Then—as your friend, I'm asking you to stay."

"No, I—I lost control," he muttered out as he shook his head.

"Don't do that," she warned softly and he almost wanted to listen to her warning. "It wasn't your fault, Bruce. And nobody was hurt, or killed—"

"You got hurt!"

"I'm fine," she insisted.

Bruce didn't entirely agree, even if she was standing right in front of him. "I almost killed you, again..."

Natasha reached for his hand but he shuffled away quickly enough to avoid the contact, "Bruce... this wasn't your fault. It was—it was mine..." He watched her hand hang there awkwardly for a moment before she retracted it back to her side, "This was about me—"

"It wasn't," he disagreed as he heaved out a haggard sigh. "At least...not just about you," he finally mentioned. "Ross showed up in the middle of it all," he explained and he imagined he didn't need to say anything else because she knew Ross from that hearing in DC.

She shook her head at that and turned, lodging a knife into a practice dummy with ease. "Still my fault," she tacked on as she stepped away to go and retrieve the knife. She plucked the knife out of the dummy and then picked up several other throwing knives before she came back towards him, "I let my guard down and I shouldn't have," she stated. Whack. The first knife met the practice dummy swiftly. "So you didn't almost kill me, Bruce," she added and then flung another knife. Whack. "That incident was on me," another knife, another whack.

"You got flung into a building, in case you forgot..." he reminded her and she turned her head towards him and scoffed before she threw the last knife on her person without looking at the target.

Whack. That one was more violent then the others and he was actually sort of impressed that she did that without looking. "That wasn't your fault, or the Big Guy's," she assured him. "That was on me, too," she rolled her shoulders and he grimaced a little at the little cracks that he heard from them. "You can't control what happens in the middle of becoming him," she said next and he supposed that was true, but it didn't make him feel any better. "I was too close, that was my fault, not yours. The Big Guy might've been a little pissed, but I don't think he intended to hurt me, not once."

"Really?" He didn't believe that for a second. "The Other Guy wants to hurt pretty much anybody."

"That's not true," she disagreed and Natasha was giving him berated look that he wasn't sure what to do with. "He's not so bad," she offered up with a small shrug. "You should stay, Bruce," she finally told him again. "You've been working with Stark to try and get more control, but it hasn't worked, right?" He gave a small nod to that. "So let me," she proposed and he stared at her with his lips parted slightly in stunned disbelief. "Let me try to work with him, try to give you some of that control you want," she suggested next. "Let me help you, help him...that way you don't have to sit around with a bag packed and ready for take off every time something goes wrong."

Bruce frowned at her idea, not because it was bad, but because she was right. She was the only person his angry other half seemed prone to not break in half since Betty, even so, it didn't change the fact that there were no guarantees it would work. "I'd rather keep the bags packed."

Natasha gave him a pointed look and narrowed her eyes, "Then keep them packed, but let me help."

"No."

"Bruce—"

"I said no, Natasha," he told her more emphatically.

She inclined her head slightly before she stepped away from him and he wrongfully thought she was conceding to his answer when she spoke again, "I get that you don't trust me, I wouldn't either, but if you really want some semblance of control over the Other Guy..." she glanced back at him as she pulled the tape off her hands, "You don't have to trust me, just let me help—as a friend."

"You're trying to manipulate me into this—it's not going to work, Natasha," Bruce assured her with a shake of his head. He glanced back at the elevator, but still no Tony.

"That's what you think this is, a manipulation?" she huffed out a small and sardonic laugh then Natasha tossed the tape on the floor and chewed on her lower lip for a moment. He watched her eyes shift to the now opening elevator doors behind him before she turned her back on him, "So...not really friends then. Enjoy your trip, Doctor Banner."

Her comment left him a little a little numb and he stepped silently into the elevator where Tony awaited him.

"You know, there is a remote possibility that she actually just wanted to be your friend and help," came Tony's offhanded comment.

Bruce figured it was obvious he had probably thoroughly messed up when Tony Stark was chastising him.

Two weeks.

Natasha spent the following two weeks working with Tony to try and get a location on either Ross or Niko, without any luck. Niko spent the last decade with the KGB and any other interested parties believing he was dead, including herself. The man knew how to hide and clearly he was extending his off-grid veil to cover Ross, as well. Even Steve was attempting to keep an eye out for anything while he searched for his friend with Sam Wilson. "So, we can't find HYDRA or Strucker, we can't find Ross, and we can't find Constantin," she stated as she took a seat at Bruce's desk in the lab. She leaned back and relaxed her hands behind her head as she glanced over at Tony, "Ever feel like the bad guys are winning?"

"All the time," Tony replied with a shrug. "Even when we win, feels like we lose."

"Yeah..." she hummed in agreement as she closed her eyes. "Ironic, really... Steve goes into the ice for seventy odd years, comes back, and it turns out we're still fighting the same enemy he died to protect the world from," Natasha mumbled out. "The same enemy that I worked for, thinking that I could be anything other than what I am," she breathed out with a sigh. "And you—well, you pretty much get a near-death experience on a yearly basis," she quipped and watched the billionaire smirk at the comment.

"I'd like to note that the last incident was mostly Pepper," he tacked on.

"Mmm... but your near-death was closely intertwined."

"Touche," he agreed with a snicker. "That woman singed my ass hairs for a month before we started working out the kinks."

She threw him a dirty look and rolled her eyes, "Let's not talk about your ass hairs, Stark." She knew he preferred levity over actually talking about the fact that all these things actually affected him. Truthfully, she didn't blame him. Talking made it hurt more, it made it real.

"Fine, fine," he agreed. "Let's switch to Banner's pasty ass then, I've been working on the Gamma Pants."

"Gamma Pants?" She wasn't sure she wanted to know.

Tony nodded, "Alright, it's brilliant really. I mean, nuke a pair of pants with gamma radiation and they should, in theory, grow and shrink with Banner."

Natasha groaned as she rubbed her eyes, "You want to play with gamma radiation in an effort to keep pants on Bruce after he transforms back from the Hulk?"

"You haven't had to see that man's pasty ass after each Hulk-out," he mentioned and she supposed that was true. "Besides, eventually we'll get his angrier not-so-better half under a bit more control and we can use his help when we get a handle on HYDRA, and the colossal amount of issues we've recently added to our threat list."

"I'm sure his pasty ass isn't that bad, Stark." She watched his face turn to her as he guffawed and she raised an eyebrow up at him, "Something to say?"

"Well, I could not fix the pants problem, if you'd prefer to see the said pasty bottom for yourself," Tony offered and she felt the corners of her lips twitch into a smirk.

She flung the pen across the lab and hit him square in the temple, "Just fix the pants."

Natasha was thankful for her reflexes when the man returned fire with a pair of safety goggles and she snatched them out of the air with one hand.

"Former spy and assassin turned lab assistant," Tony informed her as he stood and handed her a lab coat. "I could use a little help, and my science bro seems to still be brooding in poverty."

She chuckled at that and reluctantly pulled on the lab coat, there wasn't anything better to do anyways, so she might as well. "I'll help you, but if I turn green and actually become a cross between the exorcist and a she-Hulk, I want you to know that you're the first one I'll tear limb from limb."

"Duly noted, Romanoff," Tony agreed with a grin.

Anywho, hope this chapter wasn't too boring for you! But it can't all be action, that just doesn't lead to a very good romance :P