There's anger in Natasha's tone when she breaks the door open to the tower lab. She's raging, prepared to explode after being filled in by Izabella on a chaotic week;
"Bruce Banner!"
Bruce looks up and slowly sits back as he studies her. His brown eyes are glassy but far more numb than emotional. He doesn't speak, just holds eye contact.
She enters the room, closing the door behind her;
"You left the center early and skipped their mentor hours this week? Izabella told me you yelled at Lucy?! Do you want to tell me what's going on?"
Bruce fixates forward, knee bouncing nervously while he clasps his hands. All programs are running and several screens are down are at eye level.
Natasha sits quietly beside him in an open chair and tucks her hands under her knees.
He's refusing to talk, choosing instead to tug at his fingers. So she reaches to take and hold the one closest to her and break the physicist from his trance.
With his mind still racing he mumbles numbly, "I ran your blood."
She swallows the lump in her throat forcing her words, "You never texted me the results."
He pulls away from her and reaches to swipe a screen, "This isn't something you text. I should've contacted Fury to send you home immediately."
Natasha's neck tightens, equally emotionless. She stands to read the file he's left open, skimming through the diagnosis. It's detailed and thorough, giving her exactly 525,600 minutes or one year until the radiation fully takes over and shuts her body down.
"That's better than I was expecting," she mumbles matter-of-factly. His version gives her more time than she feels like she has.
"How can you say that?" Banner tenses, keeping his back to her when he mumbles borderline incoherent, "I'm running more tests-."
She sighs and tilts her head. She forces her voice to calm, "Bruce, stop. It's okay."
"I have a pill that'll help with pain. You can take it every night until I find a cure," he pivots, eyes soft though he refuses to break his expression.
" Vrach -."
"We've combusted. It's official. I've hurt you- no, I'm killing you," he can't stop pacing.
"Do you want to sit down for a minute? And we can...,' she rolls her eyes, trying not to yell, 'talk?"
"No!" His lip quivers.
"Bruce, please," she whispers.
He complies due to her calm tone and sits beside her, eyes on the timers for his other projects and tests.
She can't see his expression so she shifts forward and rubs the back of his neck with a deep inhale;
"For starters; This isn't your fault-."
He smirks angrily, about ready to snap though his voice stays low, "Your problem is from radiation poisoning, where else would you be exposed to extreme levels of radiation-."
She scoffs trying to keep their conversation calm, "On the job, at the center, with the kids…working with Izabella."
"The job,' he shakes his head, 'What have you been doing? Infiltrating science labs?"
"My point is it's not necessarily you-."
He grinds his teeth, visibly disgusted, "It's definitely me-."
" Vrach."
"What else is going to make your incredible immune system shut down but the hulk and his toxic...crap."
There's a pounding in the back of his skull so he silently curses his other half. Hulk seems to fight back with a green tinge down his neck. Bruce twitches it away.
"We've always known this was a risk."
"I shouldn't have let you near me."
"Please stop."
"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry," he hides his face in his hands.
Natasha sighs. Arguing is pointless as she mulls over this new 'villain'. She can't shoot it, exploit it, or take it down. She can't find 'dirt' on it, it's a part of her she has to live with;
"I don't want the kids to know."
"They won't have to, I'm going to figure something out. Nothing is going to happen to you, Tasha. I swear."
She nods, again, not wanting to argue though the situation feels hopelessly terminal. She swallows hard and forces a smile, brushing his cheek, "Okay; We can't change the past. If I had the option to, I wouldn't. I don't regret anything."
He catches her hand with a hitch in his breath and kisses her fingers before securing them in between his own.
Natasha lays her head on his shoulder feeling him shake despite his attempts at appearing calm and collected;
"You should talk to Tony, don't push him away. I'm going to tell Clint and Laura. Let's not share this with the rest of the team. Don't tell Fury, SHIELD can't know about this."
He nods, biting his inner cheek without a word. She tries to smile, her rib cage sore from her mission and her stomach in a knot from the poison in her blood;
"Lucy could use a pep talk."
"I can't leave the lab."
"Tony can run your tests. Izabella informed me that Lucy is under the impression you hate her...You, still haven't given her the results, have you…"
"No, because I know it's going to break her."
"She needs to know. It's not like she can't keep training."
"Way to change the subject Romanoff,' he sighs, once again checking the timers on his screen, 'where is she?"
Natasha shifts with a cringe over her pain. His expression changes momentarily when he sees it so she glares with a raising finger;
"No sympathy...I gave her the key to the apartment. She wanted to see the dance studio. Hey, come here," his head lowers down while hers tilts up to catch his lips with hers.
"You shouldn't kiss me-."
"Stop! Just stop. Listen to me, Bruce Banner. Eyes on mine; I'm not going to stop kissing you. We are married, for better or for worse. We are not going to combust. I picked you, you're my person, so for god's sake, til death do us part. I believe I only get one life and I'm going to live it with you. Without regrets. You are not sleeping on the couch, you're not separating from me in order to protect me- I know how you work. I'm not going to stop going on missions. I'm not going to stop living, stop working. I do not want to be catered to and I do not want sympathy. I do not need it. We're going to keep working with the kids as long as SHIELD allows, I need that. And so do you. I would appreciate it if you didn't tell Jennifer. We both know she'd drop everything to come running- I don't want that."
He nods absentmindedly and ready to cry if she weren't in the room, "I'll be working overtime on this-."
"I'll bring dinner to you in about an hour."
"No, you're going to bed and getting some rest. I'll get you and Lucy food. What do you want?"
She shakes her head, he's already not listening about being catered to, "Beef stroganoff and a bottle of vodka."
"Okay."
That makes him smile. It reminds him of their first official date when she forgot about his veganism.
He reaches to take her hand and help her up. She frowns, "I can stand on my own, I'm not helpless."
"I can't hold your hand?"
She nods, "If it makes you happy and not about rendering assistance then yes, you can hold my hand."
Lucy is extremely talented and completely immersed in her choreography in Natasha's studio.
Bruce enters quietly and shares a smirk with his 'niece' through the mirror. He sits at the piano bench hoping not to interrupt her. He sees little Jennifer Walters leaping and twirling around the room rather than Lucy. A passion for the art in her eyes that reminds him so much of his cousin. She's fiery and fun loving.
The teenager overcompensates for her turn falling to the left with a snort. She holds her smile, snatches the water bottle and skips over to Banner;
"What'd you think of my axel? Did you see my calypso into a layout?"
He holds a smile and tries to stay positive for her sake, "...Everything I saw looked great?"
She smiles awkwardly, he's clueless as to her verbiage. Lucy is cautious to take the spot next to him at the bench.
She stays quiet so he talks first with his elbows resting on his knees;
"Your mom loved to dance."
Lucy smiles, "She still does. With me, like, in our basement. Daddy built me a space. It's bigger than this and much more glitzy. Because mom likes a little glitter. We don't have a piano in it though. Mom moved it to the living room. …was it grandma's? Mom said it was grandma's. Did you know my grandma? Anyways."
She talks a lot and her topic bouncing sets him off. At least Riley glares quietly.. He can't restrain a wide eye.
"Did Izzy squeal? Aunt Nat sent you?" Lucy asks softly.
He laughs nervously, "Yeah."
"Oh,' she hugs her knee, 'You don't have to talk to me if you don't want to."
"I want to,' he offers genuinely, 'We got off on the wrong foot. And I'm sorry for yelling at you."
"It's cool."
"It's not,' he looks vacantly forward, 'I was not in a good headspace on Tuesday and I took it out on you. Which isn't 'cool'."
Lucy switches the knee she's hugging and swings her opposite leg, "I guess you're here to tell me I'm not worthy of attending Shiz University?"
He's genuinely confused.
She fills in the blanks, "Wicked. It's a musical. I was making a joke about the Training Center for Metas."
"Oh."
"Yeah,' she sighs, 'I don't have powers, do I? It's okay, you don't have to worry about hurting my feelings. I'm super tough."
"Um,' he clasps his hands, 'You have a lot of the same genes Jen and I have. The radiation just looks a little different in your DNA. There's nothing, under the surface. So you're not...green. I thought your eyes might be a key but, you got those from your dad. Other than their unnatural color there's nothing really...I can't find anything. You're strong, solid but there's nothing inside of you that can come out or change your form...That doesn't mean you can't still train with us. It's just- unlikely that you're green or part wolf."
Her cuticles are suddenly more interesting when she swallows hard enough for him to hear it, "I'm not a she-hulk."
He looks concerned over how silent she immediately becomes, "Can I ask why you wanted to be a she-hulk so bad?"
Lucy moves to stand, circling the vicinity. She paces the way he does with her head down and her fingers tugging at each other. She clasps them behind her back and kicks her heel to barely mark a hip hop combination and distract herself;
"I didn't just want to be a hulk, I wanted... I don't know. Like. I guess. Okay, I guess, like…,' she stops and turns to face him with a constant nervous chuckle through her confession, 'I guess I wanted a reason for, for why I'm so different. My mom is sick, and awesome, my dad is...you know. And I'm like. Built weird and my eyes are yellow and, I can't. You know? I'm not cool."
"You can be 'cool' without being green. You don't need abilities to make a difference."
She shrugs with her head falling. She finds the pockets in her jogger pants and lifts her shoulders a second time, pretending not to care, "I'm just different for no reason. This is gonna make High School suuuccckk."
She's not finished, sitting at his feet with her legs crossed, "They already think I'm weird. I wanted to be cool weird."
"Who thinks your weird?"
"My friends at school; They make fun of me with each other because, like, I don't really fit in? The girls pick on me for not being girly and the boys don't want to hang out with me because I'm not a boy. Mom always says befriending them will make it better, so they're always at my house. But I don't really trust them."
"Oh."
"I don't think Riley likes me either, from the center, but it's okay. It's not so bad,' she sighs, 'I just really wanted to be like mom."
He contorts his mouth. Bruce feels for the girl, trying to remember his own loner years and offer some advice. She seems down and yet still optimistic despite the pain.
"You remind me of your mother."
"Yeah?," She leaps back up onto the piano bench. It shakes a little in a reaction from her toned, muscular frame.
"Bubbly. A little annoying,' they share a laugh, 'she was...my only friend growing up if I'm, being honest."
"Yeah? She's my bestie. We're BFFs for like, forever,' she turns to rest her head on her bicep, 'I guess, like. You don't actually hate me?"
"I don't hate you. You're your mother's daughter which means you can be a pain in the neck. But, that doesn't mean I hate you. Quite the opposite."
"I don't actually think you're moody grump either."
"You thought that?"
She taps the piano in an ADHD moment, "Do you play?"
"A little,' Banner shakes his head, 'do you?"
Lucy taps her fingers over the keys, "Yeah. So, like. We have that in common. Do you have a secret? Something you'd never told anyone ever?"
"Including Jen?"
"You don't have to answer. It's like, I don't know. I imagine friends share secrets."
"Your mom and Natasha know everything about me," he mumbles.
"Right on, friend. Mom probably knows all of my secrets too."
"Probably…"
He shifts, watching her long fingers spread in order to reach and press different chords. She's just called him a friend and it makes his heart melt.
She concentrates for more than a second, playing her Broadway tune.
Bruce checks his watch for Natasha's lab projects.
"Can I give you a hug?" She asks when the song stops, "to take the stress away?"
He stammers over her request seemingly out of nowhere, "Um…sure?"
The girl forces it, standing when he does to give him a tight squeeze. She's a little wild, she can't focus, but he appreciates her optimism and empathizes with her loneliness. Bruce feels protective over the kind hearted Lucile Jameson, vowing in his heart never to let any harm come to her. For once, Hulk would seem to agree.
"Uncle B?"
"Hmm?," he looks down awkwardly, unable to return the hug with her strong arms holding him down.
"What are you going to do once I let you go?"
"I'm going to make some dinner…?" He checks his watch, finally free from her hold.
"Can I help? I'm a really good cook!"
He tilts his head with a nonverbal urging for her to follow. She's back to talking, rambling on about her upcoming dance recital for Christmas and if he and Natasha will come.
Romanoff interrupts, sitting at the kitchen table with a loud response, "Obviously we'll be there."
Alex comes walking over for Lucy's attention that she's all too eager to provide.
Bruce moves for his recipe book and skims the pages with a mumble, extending his elbows to better see the page;
"I thought you were resting, Natasha."
"I'm sitting, what more do you want from me,' she taps the table, 'Lucy? Your blind uncle needs his glasses. They're by my coffee maker."
Lucy hands over the glasses and claps her swinging hands with a bounce in her step, "What's next?"
Natasha points again, this time under the oven to coach the girl from her seated position. She'd stand and help if only her head would stop aching;
"He's making stroganoff. Pasta is in the cabinet…you're shorter than me, you need to grab a chair."
"I can get it," Bruce reaches, trying to be helpful.
Lucy lifts a sassy hand, "No stop! You do youuu Uncle B. I'm good! I'm a proud independent woman who can handle my own climbing."
"You're not climbing on the counter-."
"Yeah, I am."
"That's disgusting."
"My feet are clean!"
"Jen! I mean- Lucy!"
The girl snorts, "Ha!"
Natasha smiles to herself entertained by their dynamic, quietly sipping her glass of water.