Author's Note: Well, this chapter came out longer than I planned and went nowhere that I initially planned for it to go. So, with that being said, enjoy the drama of your regularly scheduled programming.
Chapter 27:
"I hear you fancy yourself a hero..."
"Hardly..."
Natasha would never dare to call herself a hero. She hadn't joined the Avengers out of some heroic sense of justice. She had joined them because Loki had taken the one person she had ever been able to care for and turned him into his puppet. He had forced her to face things that haunted her. He had killed Coulson. She had been compromised for the first time in years and she wanted to end Loki for it, or at least be part of the team that did.
No. She didn't join to become a hero. She joined to be exactly who she was made to be.
"That's probably for the best. You make a lousy hero, Nat, and a pretty lousy friend." She turned her head from Niko and looked to Clint who spoke while leaned back in a chair, one leg crossed over the other and his arms resting behind his head. "A real friend wouldn't have told me to join a war. A real friend would have sent me home to my family. Sent me home, not sent me off to fight and possibly die. Admit it...we should have died and we both know it. We aren't equipped to fight monsters and magic. Now I'm back at it again because you're still doing it."
"You're not a very good Auntie either...you're never around."
Natasha jerked awake at Lila's disappointed voice and took a few shaky breaths. She turned over in her bed and stared at the glaring red numbers on the clock. 1:04am. She only slept for a measly forty minutes and it only made her more tired than she already was before. She dragged the pillow back over her face but falling back to sleep was an even worse mistake.
As soon as she landed back in the dream, Lila was standing there again, little pigtails showing innocence but a knife held in her hand to show the exact opposite. "If I become like you, can I see you more, Auntie Nat? Can you show me how?"
She snapped her eyes back open in an instant and threw the pillow against the wall, followed immediately by the clock that blinked an angry 1:10am at her. The anger that filled her was a whole new level of rage that she had never experienced and she rolled out of the bed and got to her feet as quickly as she could. It almost felt like the red of her trigger might once more take over her vision and she couldn't think of what to do as she paced up and down the hall of her miniature apartment in the tower.
She couldn't take it any longer. The nightmares never seemed to end and from the looks she had been receiving over the last two weeks since her supposed birthday, the entire team could tell. She wasn't sure if this was her minds way of telling her that she didn't deserve to have fun, she didn't deserve a day full of laughter and didn't deserve to have fun, but that was what she assumed her mind was telling her.
Natasha didn't deserve to have the Barton children look up to her like some sort of role model. She didn't deserve to have Bruce Banner be bothered by her. Not in that way.
Knock. Knock. Knock.
She paused in that moment and stared at the main door to her personal space.
"Natasha?"
And there he was. Bruce's voice didn't help to calm her down, if anything, it only furthered the dark pit that was overwhelming her. Even so, standing still and remaining quiet didn't deter him, if anything it made him more bold. She heard the unlocked door open and close and within seconds he was standing just a few feet in front of her.
"Sorry, I just—I heard something break when I got off the elevator..." he offered up in explanation, "are you...okay?" His hand reached up towards her face as he moved towards her and she jerked away, taking a step back without meaning to. "Natasha?"
"I..." she lost the words she was going to give him and tried to think of what to say.
"What can I do?" Bruce asked quickly with his usual worry, "what do you need?"
Lately she needed Bruce himself in order to get some semblance of peace with herself and that was something altogether new. She learned a long time ago to never, ever, allow herself to rely on someone else. Somehow Bruce's monster, his self-hatred, and his uniquely dorky self had broken through every barrier that Red Room built around her and even the ones that she herself had erected. "I don't know," she admitted, "I'm just tired."
"I know," Bruce admitted with a concerned expression and a slight tilt to his head. To his credit, he seemed to be doing a rather remarkable job of not trying to touch her again, though she could tell that he was barely holding onto the restraint. "You've been worse since your birthday...is that what this is about?"
"It was probably the most fun I've ever had," she admitted.
The answer only seemed to confuse Bruce as she watched the crinkle form at his eyes in an attempt to understand. He seemed to give up on that effort as he decided to merely admit defeat, "I'm not sure I see the problem then."
The problem was that around him, even around the rest of the team, her control over herself was slipping further and further out of reach. "That's not me," Natasha told him, "I'm...not fun."
"Could have fooled me," Bruce replied with the shiest smile.
She didn't react to that in any way except to say, "Yeah. I almost fooled myself."
Bruce seemed to have caught on after a few more seconds and then his eyes took on a softer and more mellow expression.
"I can't be that person. I can't be someone who goes to an arcade and plays ridiculous games. I can't be someone that I'm not," she explained to him as she turned and moved back towards her bedroom. She could hear his footsteps shuffling behind her even as she stepped inside the room and picked up the wreckage of her clock.
"Nat—"
"I ruin everything I touch. That's who I am." All she could think of was Lila in that moment, the one from her dream, the one who wanted to be just like her Auntie Nat. A killer. A murderer. A child prodigy for all things dark and destructive.
Bruce didn't look nearly as horrified as she imagined he might. He actually just looked sympathetic and it made her anger dissipate slowly. "It doesn't have to be," Bruce offered up. She was almost certain this conversation had been reversed not that long ago, when she had been triggered by Red Room and he had tricked her out of it. "I know it feels like that's who you have to be, because it's who you were made to be and you never got to choose otherwise..." he began with the smallest smile, "but if that's true...if you can't become someone who can have fun, who doesn't ruin things...then what can someone like me become? I've pretty much got a wrecking ball for a split personality."
It was an effective response because she felt the corners of her lips curl up just a little. "A wrecking ball? That's what you're gonna compare the Big Guy to?" she questioned with the slightest hint of amusement.
"Well, a big green wrecking ball, yeah."
Once she thought about it for another moment she gave a small inclination of her head, "Okay, that's—that's actually fairly accurate."
Bruce released a tiny laugh in response and she gave him another small smile. "Guess it was an extra bad night..." he mentioned as she dumped the remains of the clock in the trash.
And she couldn't talk about it even if she did want to. It wasn't her secret to tell, even if it was her nightmare and so she answered the only way that she could, and as honestly as she could, "The worst."
"Want me to stay?" he offered hesitantly.
Natasha made a note that he still hadn't dared to step too close nor had he attempted to touch her again since that first time. She glanced around the room where her blankets were sprawled across the floor, her pillow was at the other end of the room along with a few pieces of the clock that she had missed, and she really didn't want to be here. "No..."
"Okay, well...I'll leave you to—to breaking clocks and..." she watched as he paused to look at the pillow across the room and he looked at least a little amused, "throwing pillows?"
"That's not what I meant," Natasha assured him with a chuckle. "Your room would be better," she explained after he ruffled his brow slightly in uncertainty. He still looked a little befuddled and even a tad bit uncomfortable which caused the smiled that formed on her lips to become real. "To sleep, Bruce..." she emphasized.
"Right! Right, my room is good then," Bruce stammered out awkwardly.
It removed the last of her anger and frustration from the nightmare and she chuckled as she followed him down the hall and out of her room. It became even more hilarious to watch him shuffle all the way down the main hall from her room to his and then he fumbled with the doorknob. She eased her hand over his on the doorknob and smirked when he looked at her with a deer-in-the-headlights face. "Holy crap, Bruce. We're going to sleep not having sex," she reminded him. The red overtook his face in an instant and she pushed the door open for him. He went in first and instead of following she took a step back.
"I thought you—"
Natasha shook her head slightly and stopped his words in their tracks, "You're not comfortable." She wasn't entirely sure when the dynamics between them had shifted back to the beginning but somewhere in the last two weeks since her birthday, since three more missions and two more Code Greens, they had fallen back to his initial nervousness. "Maybe the question shouldn't be if I'm okay but if you're okay," she tacked on.
Bruce ran a hand abashedly through his hair and rubbed at his eyes. "Long story."
And it seemed he didn't feel like sharing. He did, however, reach a hand out towards her as an offering for her to come into his room. He wore a rather pathetic smile and Natasha didn't have the heart not to take his hand as she let him pull her inside. Even when Bruce wasn't actually happy his eyes still held a remarkable warmth in them that she had never seen in anyone else's eyes. That was when one of the reasons why she had started this with him actually hit her. It was because Bruce held that warmth in his eyes and directed it towards her and until now, people who weren't Clint and his family, people who knew the real Natasha Romanoff, didn't look at her with warmth. They usually never looked past her fuller lips, her flawless figure, and what most men would call her 'bedroom eyes'. It wasn't that Bruce hadn't noticed those things right off the bat, but he never thought badly of her even when he disapproved of her work methods, and the shy scientist had always averted his eyes away when she wasn't attempting even a modicum of modesty.
"You asked me why I chose to be with you a few weeks ago," Natasha reminded him as she inched his door shut with her free hand and stepped closer to him.
Bruce blinked rapidly before he nodded hesitantly, "I remember...and you said that you didn't know."
"I don't have all the answers for you yet but I may have just figured out one of them," she admitted. She glanced down as she placed her hand over his chest, feeling the rapid thumpthumpthump of his heart, then she glanced back up at him. Even through the nervousness she could still see warmth clouding his eyes, warmth and gentleness, it was oddly unique given that his other half wasn't so warm and certainly not gentle. "When Clint first brought me to SHIELD, I wasn't allowed to walk the halls without an escort. Most of the time I didn't even bother because everyone looked at me like I didn't belong there." She had to give Bruce credit because he remained silent, likely afraid that saying even one word would shut her up, and he was probably right in that assumption. "Even once Fury was willing to believe I could be more than what they made me, even after years of working there, I can count on one hand the number of people that stopped looking at me like that," she explained, "and you might have questioned a lot of things about me, Bruce, but you never once looked at me like I didn't belong. You look at me like you—like you care." The real truth was, Bruce had looked at her with that warmth even when he hadn't cared for her in any sense of the word, and it was probably the sole reason why she had actually allowed herself to ever fathom the idea of getting closer to him.
That same warmth only seemed to grow after she spoke and Bruce's eyes never left hers as his hands gripped either side of her face as gently as possible. "I do care..." came his insistent voice. "As glad as I am to have at least a partial answer...I'd be a lot more glad if I knew you finally got some sleep..." he added.
Natasha gave him the barest of smiles in response, "I'll try."
Once his hands released her face, one of his hands removed her hand from his chest and she followed when he led her down the hallway and towards the bedroom. "Trying is all I ask," Bruce assured her. "And...thanks for telling me."
He was at least a little calmer once they had laid down but she kept to her own side of the bed regardless of that. His 'long story' clearly had something to do with her and though she was willing to let him have that secret, she wasn't about to ruin her chances of actually getting some decent sleep by asking questions, or by getting too close when he was clearly nervous about something. Instead she tucked an arm under the pillow, laid on her side facing away from him, and forced herself not to think about it.
Thumpthumpthump. Thumpthumpthumpthumpthump.
And it was several minutes of that when she finally popped her eyes back open. "Bruce...do you want me to leave?"
"What? N-no."
Natasha turned over to face him and stared at the way he laid there stiffly, staring straight up at the ceiling. She couldn't relax like this even if she wanted and she sat up with a sigh as she rubbed at her face. "I will anyways," she informed him as she moved to get off the bed. Bruce's nervous hand grasped her wrist and she turned to look at him. Neither of them had much of a chance to speak any further because a second later they both heard his front door open and then footsteps rapidly ran down his hall.
She didn't even have time to react when Tony came bounding into the room and she could smell the scotch the second he did. She arched an eyebrow up just slightly when Tony looked between both of them, raised both of his eyebrows up, then grinned. "You told her about the dream?" came the immediate question.
Natasha felt her brow wrinkle in response as she gave Bruce a quizzical look. "The dream?"
"The dream, Romanoff!" Tony announced. She moved closer to Bruce on instinct when the billionaire actually bellyflopped onto the bed where she had been sitting and now she was so close to Bruce that she was practically on top of him. "The dirty dream, the dirty, naughty, scintillating dream. About you!" and with that he actually had the gall to bop her nose with his index finger.
Once again she gave Bruce a curious look but his alarmed and embarrassed response of, "Oh God..." as he covered his embarrassed face with his hands pretty much cleared everything up in an instant.
"Ah...I see we didn't actually discuss this," Tony mumbled out as he glanced between them, "no matter. Romanoff, forget I said anything. Besides, we're here to talk about me, which makes me immensely happy to find you in Bruce's bed."
Natasha took a harrowing breath as Tony inched closer until she was officially left without any personal space. "Stark, I swear if you get any closer than you already are, I will kill you," and that threat was genuine.
She could see Bruce finally seem to come back to his senses a little when he rubbed his eyes, ran his hands through his hair, then looked over with a stunned expression when he noticed Natasha's predicament. Tony's shoulder was pressed against hers and the only reason she hadn't escaped the strangest possible moment of her life was because escape lay with climbing over top of Bruce. He seemed uncomfortable enough as it was and she didn't have it in her to make it worse.
"Uh...Tony, what are you doing?" came Bruce's somewhat entertained voice. It seemed he was over the embarrassment of having his dream outed with Tony's further antics of joining them on the bed.
"I'm having cold feet," he announced.
Natasha groaned when he hooked his arm with her own and she tugged to try and remove it. It was a useless endeavor and she had to do her best to clamp down on every niggling voice telling her to strangle Tony Stark. "Stark, get off of me."
"No, you need to stay, you're a part of this, I need you," Tony grumbled.
She was honestly afraid she might lose her restraint and then his previous statement before that actually hit her. "Cold feet about what?" she dared to ask, though now she could actually feel a smile creeping onto her face and even Bruce looked slightly more amused.
"I can't do it. I can't," Tony murmured out. Natasha did her best to hold back a laugh and she barely caught the little purple velvet box when he tossed it up and towards her. "And I can't find the right ring. I thought this was the right ring, but now I don't, how do I know if it's the right one?" he questioned. She was a little stunned, even more so when she opened the box and found out that what he considered 'wrong', was actually as on par with Pepper's tastes as it could ever get. It was elegantly simple and beautiful, a gold band that had the tiniest twisted loops around a simple and beautiful little heart shaped diamond and if she was right, little diamonds encrusted in the band itself. It wasn't wrong it all. It was actually as perfect for Pepper as perfect could possibly get. "I can't give her the wrong ring...look at everything she's put up with from me over the years. How could I give her the wrong ring?"
Natasha stared at the flawless choice in an engagement ring with a bit of a softer look. She could feel Bruce's eyes on her now and she scrunched up her nose just slightly. She ignored the way that Tony's head lolled on her shoulder in a defeated posture and she rolled her eyes just a little. "She's not actually planning a wedding," she informed him.
"She's not? She's not...and you're not—"
"She was messing with you," Natasha informed him. "And I didn't honestly think you would make it as long as you have without losing your mind and as shocked as I am to say, you're not even losing your mind over the idea of marrying her, you're losing your mind because you don't think you deserve her," she tacked on.
"I don't..." he mumbled out in response as he held onto her arm tighter.
This was the most awkward moment she had ever endured in her entire life, more awkward than the first time Clint had introduced her to his wife and son, which had previously ranked number one on her list. Being stuck in a bed with a ridiculously embarrassed Bruce and one very drunk Tony was officially taking over. The ring was what convinced her to stay where she was and she sighed a little before she spoke, "Stark." He seemed to be ignoring her, or maybe all the alcohol had given him selective hearing, either way she nudged his shoulder with her own, "Tony."
"What?"
"It's not the wrong ring," she assured him as she held it out to him. "I'm actually a little impressed...it's flawless."
Tony glanced from the ring to her face multiple times in a rather comical fashion with his mouth slightly agape. "It is?"
"It is."
Bruce spoke up for the first time since he asked Tony what he was doing there, "She's right, Tony...it's a great ring."
Tony took the velvet little box from her hands and tossed it up and down through the air until Natasha snatched it away from him. "Wait...so she doesn't want to marry me?" came the sudden question in a rather horrified voice.
Natasha wished that smacking him would knock the drunk right out of him but she knew it wouldn't do any good. "Pepper would marry you in a heartbeat, Tony. She just didn't think you were serious, and to be honest, neither did I. You actually do want to marry her, don't you?" she questioned with a little bit of surprise now that she knew the truth.
"Of course I do," Tony grumbled out as he banged the back of his head against the headboard. "Where else would I find a woman like her? There is no other woman like her. Pepper is one of a kind. I don't want anyone else..."
Natasha gave him the tiniest smile and nodded through gritted teeth. "That's great...really it is," she told him. It was a little hard to ignore the way Bruce's shoulders shook a little against her own with his silent laughter.
"She's really pretty," Tony offered up next and she felt her breath hitch when he locked both his arms around her own arm and rubbed his goatee on her shoulder. It took every effort not to deck him and she could feel Bruce's shoulders shake even more. "Not that you aren't, I mean...you're great too, but still...no comparison. No offense."
Natasha bit down on her lower lip for a moment when he removed one arm from hers and patted her leg. Immediately she gripped his hand to remove it. "None taken."
"You are! You're adorable, not as adorable as Pepper, but damn close!" Tony assured her with another leg pat.
Once more, she pulled his hand off her leg. Adorable was definitely not something people usually associated with Natasha and she shook her head, finding it difficult not to laugh herself. "Really appreciate that," she assured him, "but it's okay, Tony, really...no need to console me. Pepper's definitely got one-up on me."
"Mmhmm...she does," Tony agreed, "you'll hold onto it until I'm ready, right?"
Natasha assumed he meant the ring and she supposed it couldn't hurt, but she was surprised he was entrusting something that important to her and not his best friend, "Me? Uh...sure."
"Thanks a bunch."
Once again, he had both arms hooked around her one arm and she took a deep breath when she heard what sounded like a snore. "Did he just fall asleep on me?" and she wasn't sure if she was more pissed or entertained with the idea.
Bruce's bemused voice answered in seconds, "Uh...I think so."
She puffed out her cheeks in an attempt to not completely lose her mind before she released that deep breath and decided she was more annoyed than amused, "I'm gonna kill him." It was the first laugh Bruce released out loud and she groaned a little, "Bruce, I swear if you don't get him off of me I really will kill him."
Bruce rolled off his side of the bed almost immediately and came around to the other side of the bed. Natasha tugged her arm free while Bruce pulled at Tony's arms and after an alarmingly weird forty-eight seconds she managed to get free and roll off the other side of the bed. There was a knock at the main door before either of them could figure out what to do with the passed out billionaire and then Pepper's voice rang out, "Bruce? Jarvis told me Tony was here and apparently causing mayhem..."
"Uh..." Bruce looked a little awkward and then she saw him motioning towards the velvet box in her hands. "He is, yeah!" he called back.
Natasha heard the door open, close, and heels clicked down the hallway on their way to the room. She stuffed the box with the ring into Bruce's end table drawer because, unfortunately, her skin tight shorts and tank top didn't exactly come equipped with pockets. Short of shoving it between her breasts, there was no other option available. The awkward moment came almost immediately when she realized she had dropped that purple velvet box directly next to an equally sized blue velvet box. She blinked rapidly and heard Bruce's sharp intake of breath. She snapped the drawer shut again just seconds before Pepper stepped into the room.
"Oh, Natasha," Pepper sounded more than surprised to see her in Bruce's bedroom and it seemed that Bruce and Tony didn't share everything with the other redhead. The silence that filled the room officially topped the awkwardness of being in that bed with Tony and Bruce.
Natasha knew why this had become weird for herself. The combination of Bruce's supposed dirty dream and his awkwardness over it, Tony jumping in bed with them, and then the second ring-sized jewelry box inside Bruce's end table and she was about at her limit even before Pepper joined the fray. Pepper's eyes grew a little concerned as she glanced between herself and Bruce and Natasha found herself fighting every single instinct that told her to run for the hills.
The silence ensued further until Pepper ended it. "I'm so sorry about this," she offered up with a sigh as she walked over to Tony on the bed and smacked him upside the head. "Tony!"
"W-what?! Are we under attack?!"
Natasha quirked an eyebrow up as Tony jumped up on the bed in a rather pathetic defensive stance with his fists raised in the air.
Then he teetered and fell off the side while Pepper sidestepped to avoid the possible collision.
She watched as Pepper rolled her eyes, grabbed Tony by the rumpled tie and dragged him back to his feet. "Let's go, tiger," she ordered.
"Yes, ma'am," came Tony's agreement as he followed her out of the bedroom like a puppy.
It was eerily silent between Natasha and Bruce for far longer than she was comfortable with and she only moved to open the drawer back up and take the ring back that she promised to hold onto for Tony. Once again she found her eyes on that little blue box and she shoved the drawer back closed as quickly as possible. "I should go," she decided in an instant.
Bruce looked absolutely mortified as she tucked Tony's ring box tighter in her grip before she stepped out of the room and made a rather hasty exit. "Natasha, Natasha wait!" came Bruce's desperate voice. "Natasha, please!" and she had just gotten her hand on the doorknob when she froze at his words. "Please...I promise that is not what you think it is," came his quick assurance.
Natasha took a few breaths before she removed her hand from the door and looked back at Bruce, "So there isn't a ring in that box?"
He clammed up for a moment and she shook her head slightly before she went to open the door again. "Natasha...maybe it—maybe it is exactly what you think it is, but—but I swear it's not there for the reason you think..."
She certainly hoped that was true and even though she was desperate to leave, she still didn't open the door and try, and instead she shifted her weight from one foot to the other before she turned back to completely face him. "Then what exactly is the reason for there to be a ring in there?" she dared to ask.
It was a slightly pained expression that covered his face and his mouth opened and closed a few times before clamping shut. Once again Natasha watched as Bruce dragged his nervous hands through his mess of hair and she waited rather impatiently for the explanation. Finally his mouth opened again with the stammered out answer, "I...it was...the ring, I mean..."
"Bruce...just spit it out," she ordered.
"It was from a long time ago..." Bruce finally admitted, "a really...really long time ago."
Natasha let that sink in for a few seconds and once it did she understood what he meant. Years ago that ring had been meant for someone and she had a feeling she knew who. It was strange how that didn't exactly make her feel better but it did allow her to relax her shoulders just a little and loosen the grip on the ring meant for Pepper. "Did you ever ask her?" she finally dared to ask.
"What?" Bruce looked absolutely bewildered and confused before he seemed to understand what she thought. "N-no, Natasha, that ring wasn't for Betty," came yet another stammered out reply.
Now she was at a loss for what she was actually supposed to think here. The pain on his face looked overwhelming and she took a step closer to him, only knowing that she had completely screwed this up when Bruce was the one to step away. Realization dawned on her and hit her like a sack of bricks. She felt immensely more horrible than she had before. "It was your mother's..." she murmured in understanding.
She wished she had never seen that blue box when the next words left his mouth, "Maybe you should go after all..."
"Right..." and Natasha gave the barest of nods when he didn't say anything else as she turned and opened the door. It was only when she was stepping out that she spoke again in a softer tone, "I'm really sorry, Bruce."
And she didn't wait for him to say anything else as she closed the door behind her and she certainly didn't dare to look back. It seemed that Pepper and Tony had been forced to wait for the elevator and she could see Pepper giving her a worried look. She had to assume that the two had heard the conversation but neither Pepper nor Tony dared to say anything to her regarding it.
Natasha kept her hand hidden with the box on the opposite side as she passed them and went back to her own room. She could at least not screw up one thing.
Red hair framing the flawless porcelain skin of her face.
Green eyes that bore more emotion than he had ever seen in them before.
The way that shallow dip in her waist helped her sway even more seductively as she tugged slowly at the zipper on the back of a little black dress.
A merciless and slanted little smile as that little black dress dropped to a pool at her ankles.
And Bruce flew out of the bed in an instant. He couldn't have felt worse that next morning if he had tried. Looking at the clock told him that he was supposed to be in a session an hour ago for Natasha and the Other Guy to work out some kinks with the lullaby, but he didn't have it in him, not after last night and certainly not after that dream had reared its head again.
This was all more than he could physically handle and their relationship was uniquely lacking in the physical. It sort of made it all the more ironic. There was no possible way he could without losing control and Natasha said that a physical relationship meant absolutely nothing to her anyways. In a way he had never been more relieved to hear a woman say that, but thinking about it now, it made him feel selfish for being glad she felt that way. There was an unspoken reason that Natasha didn't associate the physical aspects of normal relationships with an actual relationship, an unspoken reason that he could only guess at, and his thoughts never led anywhere pleasant.
Bruce swore he saw actual fear in Natasha's eyes when she had seen the jewelry box that was, once upon a time, his mothers. The ring was a painful reminder of what he most definitely should have never started again with Natasha. A reminder that he came from a monster and then became one himself. A monster that would hurt anyone. He hadn't meant to kick her out of his room, the words came out before he could control them, and it wasn't often he saw pure and unadulterated guilt on her face, but he saw it when she walked away. He couldn't blame her for being horrified by the sight of the jewelry box when neither of them could admit what they even were to each other. They had kissed less times than he could count on both hands and shared the bed even less so.
Truthfully, he hadn't even been upset with her over her fear of the ring, he had just been upset over the reminder of who he really was. Bruce wondered if Natasha knew that there was absolutely nothing he could offer her, nothing he could offer to anyone. He had nothing to give. He could barely control himself over a kiss and then there was that damned dream making it even worse for him.
He didn't have time to dwell on it further. Once again someone had intruded into his personal space without actually asking and Bruce was illogically afraid that it might be Natasha. The heavy footsteps were a relief and soon enough his big-mouthed best friend appeared in the doorway once more. It wasn't all that often that Tony looked like he felt bad about something he did, but this was one of those moments, and his words proved it, "Bruce, I sort of heard that little spat between you and Romanoff last night."
Bruce wasn't sure it could be considered a spat. There were no harsh words, no fight, just one gigantic and confusing misunderstanding. At least that was what he found himself hoping it was. Regardless of his thoughts that he shouldn't have started anything remotely romantic with Natasha, that he had nothing to give her, it certainly didn't mean that he wanted anything to end between them either.
"I didn't mean to go blowing up your spot about the dream. I definitely didn't plan to uh...to nuzzle Romanoff's shoulder," and Bruce felt a little better at the discomfort Tony said that with.
"You also called her adorable," Bruce reminded his friend.
"Right, didn't meant to do that either, so thanks for that rather unpleasant reminder." Tony sighed a little as rubbed at his temples before his question formed, "Are you two alright?"
Were they? Bruce couldn't be sure given that he had avoided her this morning. "I...haven't talked to her since last night..." he admitted.
Tony actually grimaced a little, "I thought you had a lullaby thing..." And Tony glanced down at his watch, "Like...now? Bruce, man, what are you doing?"
"Avoiding her..." he admitted.
He heard the groan emit from his friend's mouth. "Bruce, the two of you were just in the same bed. I've never seen two people run so hot and cold in my life," he grumbled out.
"And in case you were too drunk to notice, that wasn't going spectacularly well either, Tony," Bruce told his friend. "She was about to leave before you jumped us anyways."
"Alright, I'm not saying that whatever happened with you two was actually your fault and not hers, but given my wealthy expertise on women, I'm telling you to go say sorry, kiss her, and beg for forgiveness."
Bruce rolled his eyes, "That's your expert opinion?"
"The woman is always right, Brucie, in case you didn't know. Plus...you kicked her outta your room, man. The fact that she was trying to run out of there anyways? Not even remotely important," came Tony's blatant reminder. "I get that there was some misunderstanding about the uh...the ring you seem to have. You didn't want to talk about it and I get that, too."
It was probably the best advice anyone could give him considering that he had kicked her out. It didn't help that Clint Barton's words from two weeks ago were running through his mind on repeat:
"She honestly enjoys being around you to the point where she's...almost a normal person."
It was becoming more and more true. Slowly more emotions displayed themselves on her face, probably more than Natasha thought, and according to Clint that was because of Bruce himself. When the man who had known her for almost ten years said he had never seen her talk to anyone else the way she talked to Bruce, that meant more than anything else, and it also told him to go find Natasha. "I guess I should talk to her..." he mumbled out.
"Probably a good plan, I did entrust her with Pepper's engagement ring after all," Tony reminded him.
"Why did you give that to Natasha?" Bruce questioned with curiosity. He wasn't sure who had been more surprised by Tony's request that she hold onto that ring, Bruce or Natasha, but she had been surprisingly good-natured about Tony's rather impromptu bed intrusion and drunken closeness.
Tony gave the smallest shrug, "I entrusted my most valued possession to a world class spy and assassin, Bruce. I think she was actually the best guard dog I could have chosen." Bruce blinked several times at Natasha being called a guard dog. "Besides, you lose your glasses when they're still on your face, so no offense but you weren't holding the ring," came the explanation.
Bruce laughed lightheartedly at the comment but he couldn't deny the validity of the statement. "Fair enough..." he agreed.
"Alright, alright, I'll leave so you can go and find the woman that you're having this complicated little dalliance with," Tony added as he headed towards the hall. "But I really am sorry. I know I sort of...caused all of this."
"Not your fault, Tony," Bruce assured him, "things were a little weird even before you jumped into bed with us. You just made it a little weirder."
Tony snickered in an instant, "Tch...Pepper tells me I make things better when I jump into bed."
"Didn't need to know that," Bruce replied with a bemused sigh.
"Mhmm..." Tony acknowledged that comment and waved it off just as easily as he left.
Bruce chuckled a little before he decided to check on Natasha's location, "Jarvis, where can I find Natasha?"
"Miss Romanoff is currently in the kitchen on your shared floor, Doctor Banner," came Jarvis' immediate reply.
Certainly not the answer he expected but at least it meant he didn't have to go far to find her. It also didn't give him much time to think of a decent way to apologize for asking her to leave last night. Of course, even if he had thought of something to say, the words would have been immediately lost to him upon walking into the kitchen. Natasha sat at the table with her right elbow on the table and her chin resting in the palm of her hand. Her eyes were closed, her breathing was shaky, and a bagel with a measly two bites taken from it lay on a plate in front of her.
Natasha had fallen asleep eating breakfast, and given the harried breathing, she wasn't sleeping very well. She hadn't moved at the sound of his footsteps and normally sounds that most people couldn't hear sent the light-sleeping assassin on full alert. "Natasha?" he questioned softly, trying his best not to startle her. He vividly remembered waking her back in India and he wasn't sure he wanted to relive that experience again right now.
Nothing.
She still didn't budge and that worried him a little more. He knew she was tired but he had never seen her this tired. Now he was willing to actually move to her and he placed his hand on her shoulder. Either Natasha was worse off than he thought, or she had known it was him and ignored him up until now, but either way she slowly eased her eyes open to look at him. "Are you okay?"
"I was before your heavy footwork woke me up," Natasha mumbled out, "and why are you waking me up?"
And it seemed he was wrong. She had been awake the entire time. Bruce frowned a little before he answered the question, "Because you fell asleep at the kitchen table?"
She blinked a few times before taking in her surroundings and then looking at him with the slightest bit of confusion. "Shit...I slept through our training session with the Big Guy," she sounded more than a little frustrated with herself.
It stunned him. Natasha had no idea that he hadn't shown up either and he eased his hands over her shoulders to sit her back down. "Relax. I sort of missed it too," he admitted. She had also just admitted that she had started her breakfast well over an hour ago and the red mark on her chin proved it. Bruce shook his head a little and sighed, "I should have never told you to leave."
Natasha chuckled a little, "I sort of deserved it. I mean...it was a little presumptuous to think that jewelry box was for me, though if it had been, I think my reaction was fair."
"It was just a little over the top," he informed her in amusement. "But not all that presumptuous," Bruce told her. "Who else would I be giving jewelry to?" he questioned with a chuckle.
He should have seen her teasing reply coming but some comments from Natasha weren't always what one expected, "Well, given that Stark apparently jumps into your bed in the middle of the night, I wouldn't exactly be surprised if you were giving him jewelry."
It forced a laugh from him immediately as he shook his head, "I guess I should have warned you about that...he sort of takes friendship to a new level."
"Without a doubt," she agreed with a shake of her head. He was surprised how easily they had shifted from uncomfortable back to easy banter, but her next comment was less than expected and pushed them right back out of his comfort zone, "You don't talk much about your mother."
Bruce was silent as he tried to think of a response. "Thinking about her reminds me of the day he killer her," he admitted.
Natasha's eyes took on that gentle look that only appeared on rare occasions. "You don't remember anything else about her?" came the question.
"I do, that's just the first one that always comes to mind," he explained.
"You carry that picture of her on you?" came the next question. Bruce stared at her with uncertainty before he gave a small nod and pulled it from the inside pocket of his jacket and held it out to her. She took it and he watched her eyes roam over it, taking in every detail just like she was trained to do, and it wasn't the first time she had done so. Months ago she had seen the picture and done much the same over his shoulder before she told him that he had his mother's 'kind eyes'. "She really is beautiful," Natasha offered up with what sounded like complete sincerity.
Bruce smiled a little at her, "She was."
Natasha's eyes remained fixed on the picture for a few seconds longer before she handed it back to him. He stared down at it just like she had, though he didn't really need to for the same reasons she had, then he tucked it back into place in his pocket. "You know...I wasn't wrong."
He raised both of his eyebrows up in confusion.
"When I told you that you were nothing like your father," came the painful reminder. He had forgotten when she said that to him, forgotten when she tried to reassure him that he wasn't a monster, and that was before they had even become friends let alone whatever they were now. "He was wrong about you just like you're wrong about yourself," she told him.
"And how exactly do you know that?" Bruce questioned. Once again she was flaring frustration in him with her choice of conversation. They were also once more trading places for who tried to tell the other they weren't what they thought of themselves.
Natasha stepped closer to him and one thing he was starting to notice was that she was less cautious about other people seeing their closeness than he was. For some reason he had always thought it was her that was more cautious until he noticed that she wasn't shying away from anything the other team members might misconstrue, or rather, see for what it was. "Last time you said that I didn't actually know you," she reminded him. He sucked in a breath when she rested her hand over his heart much like she had last night and gave him a tight lipped smile, "I told you that I didn't need to know you well to know that and this time I know you better."
There were times he questioned that, just like he questioned what he knew about her, but he didn't say it. It was Clint's words, reminding Bruce that Natasha absolutely did not talk to people this way, that kept him from saying she was wrong. It kept him from reminding her that they really didn't know much about each other at all. He also reminded himself there weren't very many people who knew as much about her as he did. "I guess..." he finally agreed, "but not being like him doesn't mean I won't hurt you. I can't control the the Other Guy."
"Maybe not, but I've seen Nat with him."
Both he and Natasha turned to glance back at Clint in the doorway. Bruce felt the coolness seep in where Natasha had removed her hand from his chest as she turned fully to face her best friend.
"Dude, you've got some anger problems, but the second she calls out to him, The Hulk stops whatever he's doing, or, you know...smashing," Clint pointed out next, "I mean, he's not always thrilled with the aspect of letting you be you again...but it didn't look to me like he would hurt her." Bruce could see Natasha's 'I told you so' smirk as Clint walked over and snatched Natasha's one single unhealthy food of choice in the kitchen. A can of pizza flavored pringles. The archer pulled off the plastic lid and popped a chip into his mouth with a crunch when the redhead shot him a dirty look and snatched the can back from him. "You and him are like pringles, once you pop you just can't stop...until Nat intervenes," Clint mentioned as he gave his partner a sour look.
Bruce felt the smile creep up onto his face against his will and it grew further when Natasha dramatically rolled her eyes and retorted with, "I'll pop you if you keep stealing my food. It never used to go missing before you moved into the tower."
Clint snickered and Bruce felt the need to at least say thank you to the man. He figured it could cover the basis of all the weird uninvited, but rather helpful, conversations about Natasha and now this moment as well. "Thanks, Barton."
"Sure thing," Clint commented as though it were absolutely nothing, "outside opinions can be the best remedy." Bruce chuckled when the other man glanced back over to Natasha with an innocent look, "See? I deserve more pringles for this."
A single eyebrow quirked up on Natasha's face as she stared at her partner. A moment later she pulled out a chip and tossed it to him. Clint caught it and popped it right into his mouth and it took all of Bruce's effort not to laugh when Natasha replied with a, "Good boy."
"That's just offensive, you only get to treat me like a dog for three pringles."
Natasha tossed him one more.
"That's two."
"You had one before those two, that's three," Natasha replied easily.
Clint shrugged that off before he seemed to remember why he was actually up in their shared kitchen. "Oh, right, I'm supposed to tell you that Stark has another target for us. Team meeting in an hour."
Bruce watched as Natasha gave him a strange look in response, "Why didn't he have Jarvis tell us?"
"He was, Miss Romanoff, but Mister Barton was insistent he come and tell you," came Jarvis' voice.
"That so?" Natasha questioned with a slanted little smile.
"Tattletale," Clint grumbled.
Natasha rolled her eyes a little as she questioned it, "So why are you telling us and not Jarvis?"
"Because Jarvis doesn't have pringles and you do," Clint answered matter-of-factly. Bruce snickered when the archer went to toss the chip into his mouth and Natasha snatched it out of the air and ate it herself.
"That's not entirely true, Mister Barton," came Jarvis' interruption. "Many of the commissary areas in the tower have pringles in them."
Clint looked absolutely floored by the newfound knowledge, "How come you didn't tell me that?!"
"You never asked."
Bruce and Natasha released laughs at the exact same time at Jarvis' rather proud reply.
"Are there sour cream and onion ones?" Clint questioned quickly.
"Indeed. They are in the kitchen on Thor's floor by his personal request along with many boxes of strawberry poptarts."
Clint was gone in an instant.
Natasha was shaking her head as she seated herself on the kitchen table and popped another of her own pringle chips in her mouth. "He's a sucker for sour cream and onion," came her explanation. Bruce chuckled a little until she spoke again, "So...we've discussed awkward moment number one. Should we discuss the next?"
"Um..."
"The supposed dream."
And the heat once more rose to his face. "I'm...so sorry about that..." he apologized instantly, "and for Tony. And for telling Tony even..."
Crunch crunch crunch. Natasha had popped another chip into her mouth and was chewing away as she gave him a rather entertained look. "Doesn't bother me," came her reassurance after she finished chewing, "and as for telling Stark, well, I'm actually getting used to the fact that you literally tell that weird little man everything."
Bruce smiled a little. "Okay... well, maybe none of that bothered you..."
"But it did bother you," Natasha finished with a nod, "I know." She ate another chip with a more thoughtful look before she continued on, "Bruce, you're a man, just in case you forgot that little tidbit of information."
Bruce groaned in an instant, "That's exactly what Tony said."
"Well, he used to be the king of all things dirty, so I don't doubt that for a second," Natasha stated with the barest semblance of the shrug. Bruce felt his smile reappear quickly at the comment. "So, this dirty dream, how dirty is it?" she questioned. And once again, his entire face was engulfed in red at her question. The saucy little smile on her face did nothing to help the matter and he forced himself to take a deep breath. "Well?" came what seemed to be her honest curiosity.
Bruce sighed a little, "You...um..."
"Bruce, seriously? It was just a dream," she reminded him with an impish smile, "at least tell me I was good."
Bruce felt his jaw drop open in response, "I—I...um...I..."
Her eyebrow quirked upward once more as she popped another pringle in her mouth. "I must have been excellent for this reaction," she finally stated.
"No—no...you weren't," and then both her eyebrows raised upward, "oh, oh no! I don't mean that! I just meant... there wasn't any—anything physical between us...in the dream."
Natasha looked downright puzzled after his rather pathetic and stammering explanation. "Okay...now I'm failing to see how this dream is so dirty."
"Well...I mean...you were—you were..."
"Naked?"
"Yes..."
Natasha's smile came back full-force now as she placed the pringle can down on the table, crossed one leg over the other, then planted both hands on the table just behind her as she leaned back and gave him a rather amused expression. Oh hell... "Bruce, that's hardly what I call a dirty dream. You clearly didn't tell Tony any details of this dream. You are a prude," she bit out with an adorable little laugh. "You've already seen me naked, how does that dream possibly change that?"
"N-not like that..." he mumbled out.
Now she looked curious, "Oh yeah? Did I strip?"
"Um...y-yes."
Natasha chuckled, "Relax, Bruce. Honestly, I wasn't bothered when I thought this was a sex dream, but a stripper dream? Roll with it, and if it'll make you feel better, we can go in the room and I'll do it for real."
"What?! No!" Bruce groaned as he rubbed at his face, "Natasha...jeez."
She blinked at him a few times with obvious confusion, "I really don't see the problem here, Bruce."
"You don't? Because I do..." he told her quickly. "For one thing...thinking of you—that way...not exactly good for me," he reminded her as he patted his chest just over his heart. Natasha gave the smallest nod to that. "And...the other problem is you."
"Me?"
"Natasha...you told me you weren't interested in that, and this is completely disregarding the fact that I couldn't even if I wanted to," Bruce assured her, "I should not think of you in that way when you don't want anything to do with it..."
Natasha narrowed her eyes slightly and angled her head to the side a little bit as she let that sink in. "That's what this is all about?" she questioned as she sat back up. "Bruce... dreaming about sex and actually having it are two totally different things," she told him, "and I'll emphasize again...that was hardly even in the category of dirty dreams."
"I know that," he insisted with a sigh, "it's just...there's a reason you feel that way and it just feels...wrong."
Those impeccably green eyes softened gradually and Bruce watched as she stood up and stepped closer to him. Very close to him. "Bruce, I know that you probably think that reason is something terrible, something horrible that someone did to me," she mentioned, "but it's not."
"It's...not?"
"No," she assured him. "To me it's just not something that..." and she seemed to be mulling over and choosing her next words as carefully as possible before she simply threw caution to the wind and let it roll out, "to me it's not the means to something more, it's the means to an end."
For half a second he didn't quite get it, then the realization dawned over him and he stared at her. Natasha Romanoff. The Black Widow. He hadn't even remotely thought that that was the reason she that wasn't interested. He had created a sordid and unpleasant tale in his mind when, while this was still equally unpleasant, he did manage to feel the slightest bit more comfortable. The answer had been obvious. Sitting in front of him all this time just in the form of her code name. "I'm sorry...I shouldn't have—"
"Bruce, relax," Natasha assured him with a shake of her head. "It's not a big deal and it's not like you're acting on it, you're actually remarkably more restrained than any man I've ever met, and I know you have one very...very green reason for that," she explained, "but I even know a few guys on the other side of the fence who've taken more liberties than you have."
He stared at her with his mouth slightly agape before the question left his mouth of it's own volition, "Did you even want to do those things?"
That seemed to give Natasha pause as she let the question sink in. "Nobody's ever asked me that before," she admitted as she stepped away. "Honestly..." came the beginning to her answer, "I never really thought about. I never actually asked myself that question." She seemed like she was thinking about it as she looked off to the side slightly before she nodded her head a little, "The truth is, all of that was during a time when I felt...nothing. It was an effective weapon and that's all it was and all its ever likely to be to me."
Bruce nodded his head a little as she got an answer to that question for both of them and this time it was him who took a step closer to her. "Natasha, I should have never said anything," he insisted, "I should have never asked."
"It's alright," she told him with a small smile. "Apparently it's just been a really uncomfortable nine hours for both of us," she added.
Jarvis' voice rang out and cleared the air of the uncomfortable silence that grew between them after that, "Doctor Banner, Miss Romanoff. The rest of the team has begun to gather in the lounge."
"Thank you, Jarvis," Natasha told the AI.
"So...I guess we should go and do that then," Bruce mumbled out.
"Probably best," came her agreement.
Bruce really wished he could erase everything that happened after he showed up in her room the night before. Things had continuously shifted from okay, to awkward between them each time the subject changed and he sighed a little as he followed her to the elevator. It was hard to decide if they were okay or not. He wasn't sure if Natasha was alright with what she had revealed to him or not. Hell, he wasn't even sure he was alright with it. He was perfectly okay with Natasha herself, but her past was one of sordid horrors that seemed to only get worse the more it was revealed to him, the things she did under orders of the people who trained and brainwashed her...that he was not okay with.
The elevator ride was quiet but not completely filled with tension as it made it's ascent to the lounge. It took a second before he felt Natasha's eyes on him and he glanced over to see her give him that little sideways smile.
They were okay.
Natasha would never say that she wasn't at fault, she would never say she was a victim of the Red Room, but Bruce knew that both were true. She was a child when they took her, and though she insisted that she had a choice in what she became, she was innocent when they rewired her brain for things that no child should know or understand. She was only just now learning how to have things that had been denied to her for so long. Bruce would be damned but he was grateful for the day that she decided he was worth forcing her friendship upon. Plus...that warmth she always told him he carried in his eyes occasionally showed up in hers over the last few months as well.
In fact, it was in her eyes at that exact moment as she smiled his way and he couldn't help but to smile back at her.
Well. There's an emotional roller coaster for these two. Hawkward...hahaha. Hawkeye, awkward, get it? Get it? xD