For jamiehernandez8888, who loves Bruce as much as I do.
Enjoy!
Natasha woke up with a start for the fourth night in a row, reaching out into the empty space on the other side of the bed, once again finding the sheets cold. She sat up and gave heavy, broken sigh. The room was dark, and the clock on the Bruce's bedside table blinked back at her from the darkness, showing four in the morning. Her head pounded, eyes still stung with lack of restful sleep.
Exhausted, she pushed herself on out of the bed and wrapped up in Bruce's fluffy navy colored robe she'd stolen months before. The faint scent of his aftershave still clung to the collar, and she wrapped the fabric close over her face and inhaled deeply. Four nights. Five days. Nothing had ever happened to him like this before. It made Natasha feel as if she'd been gutted.
Silently as always, she slipped out of the apartment they'd been sharing the last year, and down the hallway toward the large common area of the Avenger compound. There was silence in the dark halls, until Natasha rounded the corner and saw a dim light coming from the sitting room. Her guard was instantly up, and she paused, flattening herself against the wall as she continued to creep silently along the wall, staying in the darkness, cautious of who might be awaiting her at the end of the hallway.
Tony cleared his throat, and recognizing the sound, Natasha relaxed, picking up a normal pace and announcing herself as she came into the room.
"Tones?" She called to her friend, who turned to greet the redhead with a weary smile.
"You promised you were going to try and rest." Tony scolded.
"Yeah, you were supposed to as well." She reminded him, sitting down in the large leather armchair beside his perch on the couch. She looked at the projected image he had up, closed her eyes and sighed.
"Watching it again?" She ask, not really needing an answer. Tony nodded sadly.
"I've had FRIDAY analyze everything, I just keep on thinking I might have missed something." He confessed. His large brown eyes looked more bloodshot than normal, and he rubbed one hand into his eyes before looking back at her.
"Show me again, FRIDAY." Natasha requested the AL. The whole recording rewound and then began to play.
The scene opened up to a dark concrete room with a single chair bolted to the center of the floor, a lifeless looking Bruce Banner sat chained to the chair, the slow rise and fall of his chest the only indication he was alive at all. There was dried blood running from his hair over one eye and down his face. This lasts for seven minutes, silence and Bruce's ragged breathing. Then from off screen a male walks into view, his skin completely covered in black clothing, a plain white hockey mask covering his face. He grabs Bruce by the back of his thick black curls and holds his head up, looking into the camera.
"Behold, Avengers. Your 'mighty' Hulk." He speaks in an machine altered voice, and then laughs and throws Bruce's head down, and his neck reacting like rubber, flopping limply. "If this is the strongest of you, we must count ourselves lucky the aliens in New York were so easily defeated. It is to laugh..."
The man, whoever he was, slowly walked toward the camera until he was right before the lens, and it became more obvious that whoever this was even wore black out contacts to keep them from being able to see their irises and trace them that way.
"We will continue to keep Doctor Banner as our esteemed guest. We will continue to keep him alive and sedated. Please await our next message for further instructions, Avengers." He says, and the camera goes black.
Tony swallowed thickly, pushing the emotion down. Natasha looks over at her friend, who she knows is equally worried about Bruce, who Tony considers a best friend. She wonders if this video brings back the horrid memories of his own kidnapping that lead to him becoming Iron Man, though she does not ask. Tony has enough on his mind without her adding that to it.
"We will find him, Nat. I swear." Tony said, his voice cracked slightly. "They think taking Bruce has crippled us, but they don't know just what we will do to preserve this family." Natasha nods and moves over to sit beside him, gently leaning her head on his shoulder.
"I know." Natasha whispers. "I just- I want to know who this is, you know? And how... How did they subdue him without the Hulk taking over and getting him out? What the hell could they possibly be drugging him with that would keep him like that?"
"I don't know, no clue, and I got nothing..." He answered, trying to make her laugh, but only receiving a small smile. "FRIDAY has tried tracing the message for days, and it has been bounced through more satellites and IP address than I can count. It is some advanced stuff, Nat. Someone knew I was going to try coming for them that way."
"You are the tech king." Natasha nodded. "If they planned this, and it seems it was planned well, that would be accounted for."
Tony nodded and stood, then held a hand put to Natasha, who took it and allowed Tony to hoist her to her feet. He straightened Bruce's robe out where the collar had fallen off her shoulder and kissed her cheek. "As long as we're both awake, want some coffee?"
"I thought you'd never ask." She nodded, following Tony to the kitchen.
Miles away and deep underground, Bruce Banner groaned, trying to open his eyes. The light wherever it was he found himself was dim, and when he did manage to pry his eyes open, only one had vision. His sight was cloudy, blurred, and his eyes fought him to stay closed. Pain throbbed through his head, neck and back. He tried to move a hand up to rub his eyes and found his wrists bound to his chair. He jerked again, attempting to free himself and noticing how weak he felt.
His arms felt heavy, even without the chains against his wrists. It felt like there were weights on his shoulders, thighs and calves. Hell, Bruce even felt like his eyelids weighed a ton each. He let out another groan, before having the wind knocked from his lungs as something hit him hard in the jaw, his mouth filling with blood. Bruce weakly spit, the mix of saliva and blood barely dribbling down his chin to his ripped gray Avenger's undershirt.
Starting to come to his senses, Bruce held very still. His mind attempted to calculate what was happening to him, but before he could get anything put together, a gloved hand held his face. Two fingers pried his eyes open, causing pain to shoot through his skull as light poured in. A blurred figure stood before him, all definitive features covered. Bruce coughed, and tried to speak, and his captor laughed.
"Oh, Doctor Banner..." The voice said, its inhuman morph catch Bruce further off guard. "We can't have you getting too awake, you need your rest..." The words dripped with condescending sarcasm, and the hand holding his face roughly pushed his head to the side. "I only have room for one guest, so I am afraid you cannot invite your green friend to play with us..."
"Wh-" Bruce tried to protest, to ask questions, to beg the Hulk for help, but nothing would come out. He felt a burning as a needle sank into his neck and a chemical was pushed into his veins. What little consciousness he had faded into the dark recesses of sleep once again. The masked figure laughed again and dropped Bruce's head, clicking the cap back on the now empty needle. Bruce gasped a little and coughed, more blood splattering out onto his shirt. The masked man stood and watched, listening, making sure Bruce kept breathing. He then tossed the used needle to the ground and walked away, locking the heavy lead door behind him.
Outside the room where Bruce was being kept, the man removed his mask and gloves, coming into a larger room where several monitoring computers all worked in unison to monitor the movements of the other Avengers, the compound, and all surrounding areas. They had no visuals inside the compound itself, but all of the perimeter was covered and visible on various screens.
"Any movement?" the man spoke in his normal voice, his thick Russian Accent marking his words.
"No sir, nothing yet." A younger man, also dressed only in black replied.
"Keep eyes on them. Nothing happens without us knowing, or its your ass." He tells the younger five men, who all nod and go back to watching the screens. The formerly masked man sits in a large chair behind the others, scanning the screens. He sighs and stretches. "It won't be long now, they will try something. We have to be ready..."
To be continued!
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