Pepper, Bruce decided, must be a descendant of Glenda, the good witch.
There was just no other explanation for how well she handled the media, and public relations, other than it was pure magic.
Thanks to cellphones, there was no getting around the public seeing that Hulk was still lurking around New York, but Pepper was somehow able to keep the exposure of both himself and Isabelle to a minimum. For this- Bruce was thankful. Of course, the news of his having a child still broke and spread like a wildfire in a drought, but thanks to Pepper and the Stark legal team, and of course, Miss Potts personal handling of the press conference, the paparazzi and been rather threateningly persuaded to not seek out Belle or Bruce for any reason.
Pepper had said, in no uncertain terms, that any paparazzo caught harassing with of the Banners would find themselves on the wrong and very wrathful side of Stark Legal, some of the best lawyers on the planet. The press did not have any questions following that particular statement.
For a week or so, things seemed back to normal.
Until the following ballet class after the zoo incident.
Belle, who had only just started to open up and managed to have made a couple friends in the class, was standing at the warm up bar, doing her leg stretches when two girls which normally did not really speak to her at all came up to her.
One was a tall, eleven year old blonde named Carly James, who had dark gray eyes and an overly white smile, which Belle could not help but wonder if they were veneers already. The other was a shorter girl of Indian decent, Araohi Alam, who was no stranger to being a bit of a bully, and constantly bragged about the wealth her family had and her mother's place on City council. These two girls were best friends, and often bossed the other girls in the class around. Thus far, Belle had pretty much managed to avoid them and their wrath, but today, they sought her out.
"Uh, hi." Belle said quietly. She shot a look over to the parent's waiting area, where Happy sat thumbing through a magazine, amongst all the moms and nannies- only one other man sat nearby, and he and Happy occasionally made small talk.
"We know who you are." Carly stated firmly, crossing her arms over her chest.
"Okay?" Belle replied, confused as to where they planned to go with this.
"We know your dad is monster." Araohi spat with a sneer.
"My dad is an Avenger." Belle insisted. "He saved this city. More than once, now."
"Bet you're a freak, too, aren't you?" Carly scoffed.
Belle felt the anger rising in her. She wondered if these girls, who were older but less intelligent, had any idea that her father's trigger was anger and rage. It seemed to her that it was probably not something the general public would be aware of, so these two probably had no idea the fire they were standing so close to. Belle simply smiled.
"If I am, is it really wise for you to be testing me right now?" She muttered back calmly. She looked up at Carly, who had stepped nearly toe to toe with her. Belle kept her hand tight on the practice bar.
"You won't do anything." Araohi countered. "You're just a little mouse. You hardly even talk- I'll bet it you aren't special at all. I bet you're just a little mouse."
"My dad said the Hulk is a freak of nature. He said the government should put him down before he hurts someone." Carly said, laughter playing in her voice.
Isabelle felt herself begin to shake with rage, and she tightened her grip yet again on the railing, trying to maintain her calm. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, slowly letting the air pass out her nose. In her mind, she replayed a conversation she and her father had once had about how children were often just parrots of what they hear at home. She opened her eyes and looked at the two girls.
"Please, I'm just here to dance, the same as you. I haven't got in your way, and I don't plan to. Can you please just leave me alone?" Belle pleaded.
"No, we don't want you here. None of us do. You should just quit." Carly said with another self-satisfied grin.
"Why?" Belle ask, tears starting to press at the backs of her eyes. "What did I do wrong?"
"We don't want freaks here. Nobody wants to dance next to a monster's kid." Carly responded. Araohi nodded and crossed her arms in the same way Carly had hers.
Belle's grip on the bar finally had enough force behind it, and the screws that held the metal railing in place came loose from the wall, knocking Belle, Carly and Araohi all to the ground as the bar was freed suddenly. None of the three were hurt, though the two bullies began to scream and quickly got up and ran away. Before Belle had time to even realize what she had done, Happy was there, helping her get out from beneath the bar and the fallen pieces of sheet rock that had came loose as it fell from the wall.
Happy was on his knees next to her, hands on her shoulders, looking her over for injuries. She was crying, and it concerned her bodyguard.
"Hey, little one." Happy cooed, dusting her off. "You okay? Are you hurt?"
Belle shook her head and shrugged a shoulder to wipe her tears.
"I'm not hurt." She replied.
"Who the hell is responsible for the maintenance of this place?" Happy yelled, looking around. The teacher had not yet arrived, so the other girls and their guardians were close by, staring over at Belle.
"That little monstrosity did this!" Carly's mother spat back at Happy, pointing a bony finger at Belle. "The building isn't faulty- she's a freak like her father."
"You watch it, lady." Happy warned, on his feet. He tucked Belle behind him protectively.
"Or what?" The older blonde demanded. "You gonna sick her on me? Or call her daddy?"
"Last chance. Or you'll wish you'd dealt with him rather than me. I promise you that. You really think it's wise to make ignorant comments about the nine year old daughter of an Avenger?" Happy warned.
"You really think its wise to let that tiny beast in here with these nice, normal children. I can't believe they even let her enroll." She spat in disgust. Belle had started to cry harder, and Happy saw red.
"Listen here, you old shrew..." Happy growled through gritted teeth, stepping forward. "I have heard enough. I'd tell you that you need to apologize, but you're not worth our time. I do feel sorry for your daughter, though. I cannot imagine being constantly trapped with such a vile and vicious excuse for a woman."
He held out his hand, which Belle ran up and took, and he pulled her toward the door. He paused before exiting and turned around to face the others.
"Happy..." Belle pleaded quietly, tugging at his arm. Embarrassment and hurt were getting to her, and she wanted nothing more than to leave.
"I'll be back for building codes and inspection records... There better not be a bolt out of place. Imagine being so paranoid and close-minded about things that you blame a small child for something that was clearly a maintenance failure." Happy left them with that, allowing Belle to tug him through the doorway. They walked about halfway to the car before Happy stopped and knelt down to her level.
"Happy- you and I both know that was my fault." Belle muttered, wiping more tears with the back of her hand.
"Yeah, but they don't. Not for sure." Happy said, offering her a tissue from the small pack he kept in his suit pocket. "You wanna tell me what happened just now? I know you didn't just slip up and pull that out."
"Carly and Araohi were telling me they didn't want me there." Isabelle confessed. "They were calling me and my dad names. Carly said her dad thought mine should be put down by the government- as if they haven't tried." The little girl cried harder and fell into Happy arms, and he gently tried to shush her as he patted her back.
"Hey, Short Stack- it's okay." Happy assured her. "What do you want me to do here? How can I help? Want me to ask Tony to buy the studio for you? We can kick them all out!" She laughed at his joke.
"Can we get cupcakes again on the way home?" She ask through a watery smile. Happy smiled in return.
"Of course we can." He nodded.
"Are you going to tell my dad what happened?" She ask, nervously rubbing the toes of her ballet slippers together.
"Well..." Happy started, thinking. "Honestly, I don't know if telling him or Uncle Tony is the best idea."
"Well how do we tell them I quit? Or why?" Belle ask as they walked the rest of the way to the car. Happy carefully loaded her into the backseat and paused after she was buckled in.
"Why don't we tell them that the building has some structural issues, so class is off. We can find you another one, if you like." Happy offered. "Its a very big city."
"I dunno." Belle shrugged.
"Well, you think on it. In the mean time- Let's go get you a cupcake." He smiled kindly before shutting her car door and taking his place behind the wheel.
Bruce was taking advantage of everyone being out of the tower for some reason or another, for him to do some inventory in the medbay.
It had been used surprisingly often for minor things on both Tony and Clint somewhat often, and even on Steve more than a few times, so Bruce wanted to make sure they had enough supplies such a gauze and sutures for their day to day needs. He was going through each cabinet in turn, clipboard in hand as he noted how much of each thing they had. He had JARVIS play Elton John for him on low, for background noise as he worked, and he hummed along.
He was lost in the song and his work, so he did not hear when someone else came in, until she cleared her throat.
"Hey- Is the doctor in?" Natasha asked with a smile. Bruce jumped slightly in surprise as he turned around to see that Natasha had propped herself against one of the exam tables. She had her arm tucked close to her ribs, and her black suit shined with blood.
"Oh my God!" Bruce exclaimed, grabbing gloves from the counter where he stood, and he rushed over.
"It's just superficial." Natasha assured him, raising her hand from the wound. "It looks like it's worse than it is, because I had a three hour drive home, it had plenty of time to ooze."
"What happened?" Bruce said, looking up at the spy's face as he helped her up onto the table.
"Fighting bad guys. Bad guy tried to stab me- missed and just gave me a nice cut." She explained. Bruce didn't seem satisfied with that answer.
"What did you get cut with?" Bruce ask, concerned. He moved away from his patient to one of the cabinets he'd just been working in to retrieve a suture kit, numbing agent, needles, and some alcohol to clean the wound.
"A katana." Natasha replied casually.
"Ah- Who?" Bruce stammered.
"Classified." Natasha grinned. "Sorry, I can't kick ass and tell. You know how it is."
"I guess so." Bruce nodded. He looked at the beautiful redhead on the table, and fumbled a bit with his gloved hands. He'd patched his other teammates up several times, but he'd yet to have to patch her up. "Agent Romanoff, I hate to ask, but in order for me to get to your wound..." He paused, his face and ears betraying him as he blushed red.
"Trying to get me out of my suit? For shame, Doctor." Natasha laughed. She shrugged the suit off her right shoulder first, and went slower on the left side, hissing in pain as she peeled the leather that had partially dried to her away. Bruce was thankful for modesty's sake she was wearing a very covering sport bra. She lay down, her arm raised over her head so he could see better. Bruce retrieved his glasses and put on, so he could see better to help her.
"I'm just going to clean the area, first. Tell me if I hurt you." Bruce said, pouring some saline over the wound. He gently wiped away the loosened blood, hesitating at each wince the spy gave.
"You need to just do it and ignore my faces..." Natasha laughed. "This isn't my first rodeo, Doc."
"I'd still rather not cause any pain if it can be helped, but I don't feel confident in injecting the lidocaine without being able to see the area more clearly." He explained, finishing cleaning the wound with the last of the saline soaked gauze. He uncapped one needle, extracted the numbing medication and tossed the first needle in this nearby sharps container before exchanging it for a smaller gauge. He injected a few places around the wound with the anesthetic agent, moving as gently as he could. "You doing okay up there?" He ask, glancing up to find her watching him closely as he worked.
"You know, for the MD not to be your main dig, you're very good at that." Natasha complimented, giving him a smile.
"Well, I spent most of the last year and a half in India practicing medicine. So I got to hone in those skills, and dust off my Hindi." Bruce reminded her. "It was a good mental exercise."
"Mmm." Natasha nodded. She closed her eyes when she saw he had the stitches ready to go in, and she held her breath, trying her best to be as still as she possibly could. Bruce worked quickly, his touch feather light as he sutured her wound. Fourteen stitches total.
"Do you have any allergies to any antibiotics?" Bruce ask, rolling away on the stool. Natasha cautiously opened her eyes, and saw he was done working.
"None that I know of." She said after some thought. "I can't remember the last time I had one, though."
"Well, I am hesitant to tell you to take a couple as allergies are common with them and you don't know for sure, so here..." Bruce reached into the now unlocked medication cell, removing a large bottle. He counted out her dosage, and packaged it in a smaller bottle before replacing them. "Take two tonight, then one at breakfast and one before bed for the next six days." He said, putting the bottle in her hand.
"Okay." Natasha said, eyebrow arched. "Why?"
"Oh." Bruce chuckled nervously. "Sorry, sometimes I forget to explain as I go. Its Clindamycin, a prophylactic antibiotic to prevent infection. If it had been a fresh wound, I wouldn't worry about it. But it took you a while to get to me, so we have no idea what sort of icky things could've crawled inside."
"Icky things?" Natasha almost giggled.
"I could list the bacterium that could possibly be seeking warmth in your wound, if you'd like..." Bruce teased. "Or you can take the Belle version."
"Icky things is fine." Natasha laughed. "Otherwise I might be tempted to google."
"Never google when it comes to health. I've found you could be looking for causes to a simple headache and google will have you planning your funeral." Bruce joined her laughter. "Does it hurt? Do you want some vicodin or anything?"
"I think I'll pass. I can manage with tylenol for now." Natasha declined. "I don't like anything that makes my mind less sharp."
Bruce looked her over, the large wound that lay across her side still oozing a bit. He could understand wanting to keep her vigilance, but there was no way that this laceration was not killing her. He had numbed it for the moment, but that would only last an hour or two at the most. He simply pulled his lips in over his teeth nervously and nodded, moving away to start his clean up.
Natasha sat up and swung her feel down off the table. She stood up and tied the arms of her suit around her waist to secure them and to keep it from falling off of her hips. She watched the shy man as he tided his workspace and sighed slightly. He seemed so nervous around her, and she felt a bit of guilt about that, considering how she'd treated him a few months prior when they met. She thought for a second, then eased her feet to the floor. She propped against the bed, waiting for him to turn back around.
A few moments passed, and he had taken to typing something on a desktop computer, she assumed the incident notes of stitching her. She cleared her throat and he glanced over his shoulder to see if she was okay.
"Alright, Agent Romanoff?" He ask, going back to rapidly typing.
"Mhmm." She confirmed. "Just wanting for... Discharge? I guess?" she joked.
"Oh!" Bruce squeaked. "Right, I guess you don't really want to just hang out on the table, do you?" He took his lab coat from the hook he'd hung it on a few days prior and brought it over, helping her shrug it on to cover her upper half so he wasn't escorting her through the tower in a state of undress. She gave him a small smile and thanks as she shrugged the coat on.
"Thanks, Doc. But what if I bleed on it?" Natasha inquired, concerned for the bright white fabric.
"Scrubs are made to have blood splashed on and wash out, it'll be fine." Bruce assured her. "Let me help you home."
He offered his arm, which she leaned heavily on as she walked, feeling a bit light headed. She walked slowly, and Bruce let her set the pace, only stepping when she did. When they finally made it to her apartment, Bruce took her over and sat her down on the couch.
"Listen," he said, crouching before her, helping her adjust for comfort with the pillows of the couch. "I know you're probably tempted to go take a shower and sleep, but you really should eat something first. Get that blood sugar up after volume loss. And fluids, I could've done an IV, but I think you'll be fine as long as you drink plenty. What can I help you get to eat?" He ask gently.
"I- uh," Natasha laughed slightly, "I don't really have much in the kitchen. Not big on cooking for just me, so I have some frozen meals, Gatorade..." She trailed off. "I'm fine, Dr. Banner. Really. I just need to rest a few minutes." She offered. Bruce shook his head.
"I'll grab you a gatorade. But you gotta have some good proteins. What do you like? I will order you something." Bruce insisted, standing and heading over to her refrigerator.
"No, you need to go get Belle's supper ready. I'm fine. I can order something in a bit." She smiled, taking the gatorade he offered her.
"Eh, I can kill two birds with one stone. I'll just order for us, too." He replied, arms crossed. "Doctor's orders." He insisted.
"Does Belle like Chinese?" Natasha ask, looking up at him. "I could do steak and broccoli, since I 'need the protein', as you said."
"What kid doesn't love lo mein and egg rolls?" Bruce laughed, taking out his phone. "Happy should be back with her in about ten or fifteen minutes, I'll go and meet them, grab the food, and meet you back here. If you're up to the company. God I feel rude- but I want to make sure you eat- and Belle just adores you."
"I am always up to Isabelle's company." Natasha laughed. "I'll be fine for a little bit. Thanks, Doc." She called as he left her to sip on her fluids.
Natasha sat and looked at the young girl, who was curled into a tight ball on the opposite end of the couch from her, staring straight ahead. Natasha had ask her what she might want to watch, and had only gotten a shrug in reply, so she went to the recorded section and picked out an old documentary Carl Sagan, who she knew was one of Isabelle's favorites.
Bruce had only been gone about twenty minutes, and Natasha knew because of where he had to go to pick up their meals, it would be at least another twenty or thirty before he made it back. She clicked her tongue against her teeth and slid over a cushion, getting a bit closer.
"Hey, you wanna tell me what's up?" She ask, her voice kind but serious. Belle did not take her eyes off the television, but she gave a shrug.
"I dunno." She mumbled so low Natasha almost missed it. She looked the younger girl over, taking in how troubled she seemed. After a moment, Natasha paused the television and ask again.
"Isabelle. Come on, you can tell me." Natasha pressed.
"You'll tell dad." Belle replied in the same mousey voice.
"Not if you ask me not to. I'm a spy, keeping secrets is basically all I do." Natasha reminded her.
"Promise?" Belle pleaded, looking over at the redhead. When her dark chocolate eyes met Natasha's, she could see that Belle was fighting back tears. Natasha carefully moved again, so that her arm was just touching Belle's.
"Pinky promise." Natasha nodded, extending her pinky, which Belle locked hers into as they made their pact.
"Well..." Belle sighed, taking a shaky breath, "There were some girls at ballet class today... They said mean things about me and my dad. Mostly my dad."
'I should've mentioned I'm an assassin, too.' Natasha couldn't help but think, watching Belle's face retell her hurt.
"They called him a monster, and me a freak. I ask them to stop, to leave me alone. But they kept going, and I was-" She paused and took another snubbed breath in, and Natasha wrapped an arm around her. "I was holding the bar, trying to do my stretches, like we were all supposed to do. So when they started talking to me, I kept hold of the bar. Dad says when you get mad its important to find something to ground you. So I held on. I really really tried."
"Did you hurt one of them?" Natasha whispered, worried. Her face grew pale.
Tony had told the other Avengers about Isabelle before they moved in, and that they were, under no circumstances, to bring it up to Bruce. She knew about Belle's various 'advancements' and gifts, so she knew there were things to be worried about accidentally happening. However, to her relief, Belle shook her head.
"No. At least, not on purpose. I just pulled the bar out of the wall, and it hit me and both of them." Belle said, eyes cast to the floor.
Natasha pulled her tighter as she began to cry again. She rubbed small circles on her back, and even offered the sleeve of her pajamas she'd changed into to dry Belle's tears.
"Hey, shhh..." Natasha soothed, "It's okay. It was an accident. Could, and I really mean this, happen to anyone. Sometimes when people are angry, even people without the neat gifts you have- they get really strong. Things like that happen..."
"I can't go back now." Belle squeaked, curling her knees back to her chest. Natasha's heart broke looking at her. Ballet was Belle's only real outlet other than her new kitten.
"Why not? They can't prove tiny little you broke the wall. It's nuts." Natasha offered.
"Well, for one thing, the other kids explicitly told me nobody wants to dance next to a monster's daughter." She almost yelled, but Natasha ignored the outburst as it was all emotion, and she understood her anger.
"Well then- forget those little bitches." Natasha said, before cursing herself inside for the use of language.
"I loved to dance..." whined Belle, who looked up at the spy.
"Well, you can still dance with me. Anything you want, as long as I'm not working, I don't care if you decide you want to do a run through of the Rite of Spring at 2 AM. You can include that in my earlier pinky promise." Natasha smiled, nudging Belle's arm with hers.
"Okay..." Belle agreed, giving a water, small smile in return.
"Plus, you know, not to toot my own horn- But I'm a classically trained ballerina from Russia. I guarantee I'm much better than whatever that teacher's name was." She boasted. "I could have you Julliard ready in no time, but then they won't take you before you're sixteen."
"Thanks, Miss Natasha." Belle smiled, her eyes and face visibly cheered up.
"Please, Belle. Call me 'Nat', okay?" Natasha ask. Belle nodded her understanding. "So- What is the story you and Happy came up with for your dad, so I can be on board with that, too."
"The studio needs work, so there is no class." Belle explained. "Seemed simple enough."
"Yeah, I'd say so. Seriously, though. Anytime you want to dance, we'll dance." Natasha promised. "I've been dancing alone for way too long."
The sound of the elevator door opening and Bruce stepping off caused both of them to jump slightly, and Natasha hurried to press play on the documentary before he made it down the hall to the living room. He sat the bags of take away food on the counter and began to unpack, glancing over at the couch.
"You two look like you're up to something." Bruce accused, eyebrow raised. Belle couldn't help but giggle.
"No, not today." Natasha laughed, shooting a wink in the doctor's direction. She looked back at Belle, and they giggled again.
"Mhmm." Bruce hummed, continuing his task. "Well, whatever it is, put it on hold. Time to eat."
Thank you all for reading.
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