Natasha is pacing their emergency headquarters, passing agents and teammates on her way toward Izabella.
Svetlana is on one side, Jane on the other as they try to calm the child.
"I really need you to tell me what happened out there,' Natasha slams the door behind her, 'What did I just watch?"
Jane stays soft, reaching for a pen, "Here, why don't we show Natasha what you do-."
"I saw it-! Jane. Thanks,' she snaps, trying to regain her composure, 'Where is he?"
Izabella shakes her head, trying to match Natasha's stronger expression, "I not know. I make things go away."
"You don't know- on zhiv? ty ubil yego -."
"No," the girl steadily loses her composure over Natasha's words.
" Tebe nuzhno poprobovat'. Vy zabotites' -."
"Stop! You hurt me!"
Natasha nods, "Would you rather just go home? Quit. Because I could just let it go if that's what you want."
"No! Not until Vrach home."
"Good," Natasha swallows hard, feeling somewhat guilty for losing her temper. But Izabella is Russian and there's a mutual understanding in her firmness.
She can't help it. In pushing Izabella she spots a fire in her soul. The tears are no longer for what she did or can't do but for what she suddenly is willing to try. They are friends, or at least Izabella would call them friends.
Natasha on the other hand seems distant and cold. A wall up with her young friend who she doesn't understand at the moment.
Jane shifts in her stance, hand over her belly when she addresses Izabella with a kind smile, "Here, do you wanna go find the lab? We can try to practice calling back objects like we were doing with Dr. Ban-."
Izabella nods, "Yes."
The stern faced Black Widow moves out into the hall, still in her dirt covered clothes from the battle.
Maria greets her at the entryway, "You're putting a lot on a little kid."
"She can handle it. Any hits on Fury?"
"Not yet-."
"Get me the location of every operation in Russia-."
Maria follows behind, tablet in hand, "Nat? Can we talk as friends for a moment?"
She breathes a deep inhale, sinking into her hip.
Maria nods over Natasha's stance, "I think you need to take a twenty minute break. You're close to both of these situations-."
"Am I."
"You didn't exactly follow protocol with the General-."
"I brought Bruce home,' she rolls her tongue over her cheek with tears in her eyes, 'That's my priority. I want the director and my husband to come home. And I'll do whatever I need to in order to make that happen."
Maria takes the remark and stays by her side, "I understand, but I know you. And you're in a vulnerable place right now after leaving Alexei and Ivan."
Natasha reaches into her pocket, locating the vial from Bruce. She twirls it, "Can we run this?"
Maria sighs over being ignored, "What is it?"
"Give it to Jane."
The two women freeze over an intrusion alarm. Maria reaches for her gun while Natasha lifts a fist over the front door being broken into by a slender green giant in her thick combat boots. Her long dark hair flops up and back, dark green eyes pinning Natasha out of the group;
"Where the hell is my cousin, Red?!"
Iron Man lands behind her, his hand raised. His helmet flicks back to give the she-hulk a stare down, "Really?! Create your own nicknames - 'Red's' got a Stark copyright attached to it and it's very expensive."
The sounds of sirens and car alarms make him stir. When Bruce realizes he's on a hospital bed, he groans with his version of a 'swear,' something about the color green.
He's been in this position before and it's usually a tricky situation.
The nurse will come in with a rundown on how abnormal his blood is, say he's been out for hours- he knows the drill.
With a pounding headache he rips out the IV and moves for the torn SHIELD coat left on the nearby chair. His pants are tattered as well, in good enough condition for the temporary escape. He checks the window, a hand through his curls. The locks on the windows are light, easy to flick open- clearly, this isn't a mental hospital.
His memories are yet to return, only conscious of the fact that he's alone and that it feels wrong. The medical file is in Russian- because of course it is- with no references to SHIELD. Had Natasha deemed a hospital necessary for him, she would've consulted Fury who would have demanded Banner check into SHIELD's. The voices from the hall are all going off in the foreign language.
With no sign of Blonsky, Bruce moves to find him. There is no way Emil will be escaping this time around if he has his way. And there is no way that man would stay put in a hospital.
Bruce makes his escape attempt from the second floor by taking the window and walking the ledge. His bare feet feel cold against the icy air- he's had worse.
Natasha comes to the forefront of his mind as he scans the field. He stumbles in a groggy haze and follows the path with a tugging at his tattered sleeves. He needs to find a phone, a map, something to show him where he is.
Even after all of his research on Russia, this still feels beyond foreign. His head hurts. He feels for a bandage on his forehead, quick to remove it. The doctor walks the street side finding nothing recognizable. Bruce checks his pocket with a thought for Izabella- he must've given the vial to Natasha… he has; He remembers that.
For all of his time on the run in the middle of nowhere, he's never once wanted to be found. The sensation is new as he scrambles for answers. The nearby bench provides a bit of a boost so he stands on it and scans the area. It's a city with no sign of open space or an abandoned building. He pivots and tries to recall a memory. Something. Anything.
Bruce moves his fingers to toy with the ring on his left hand only to find nothing. He scoffs half jokingly, "Good job Banner, she's gonna kill you...if you're not dead already."
Maybe he was already dead. This feels a little like hell- if he still believed in one. This is cold. This is lonely. And the inability to communicate clearly frustrates him. He holds his hands over his hips and turns to scan over one more area.
Bruce steps down from his bench and looks over toward a nearby tussle. He lowers his head with no intention of following it. He has no desire to be a hero, someone else will have to help that poor soul because he has his own problems.
He rolls his eyes when a scream comes from the same direction and lets his heart take over.
He arrives at the wrestling, sighing again when he sees it's three to one. A small dark haired woman in the middle of it all.
"Geez," he mumbles.
This was Steve's territory. But for now, there is no com to alert the captain of the disagreement. Bruce shakes his head and takes a breath as he weighs the pros and cons of engaging. Maybe he could control hulk enough not to make a mess.
"Hey," he presses forward. Bruce knows he's not much of a threat right now in his oversized shirt and torn pants. The boys chuckle, a bit larger than he is and poke at his chest. He translates their remarks as being the equivalent for 'what will you do about it.'
He smirks, more to himself. If he allows it, Hulk will destroy these boys. Bruce tucks his head instead, " Ostav' yeye v pokoye ."
The boys laugh over his poor translation, biting back with a threat to take him down next. Banner reaches for a boy's arm and twists it backward in an impulsive move. He knows enough about human anatomy to leave a clean break at the shoulder that will heal in time. He moves to punch the boy who dares to come closer and targets his ankle. It is too clean of a maneuver for them to test the doctor any further. They soon run off with fear in their eyes.
Bruce twists his wrist, a little sore from the action. He stands beside the woman who keeps her head down so he tucks his own, ready to move on and to keep searching- for what he's unsure.
He mumbles, " Ty -poryadke ?"
"What?" She whispers back, pulling her hair back when she looks up to see her disheveled savior.
"Are you alright," he sighs and turns his head to look down toward the figure.
She holds her brown eyed focus up towards him, her lips parted slightly.
Bruce feels his heart drop and his legs deflate from underneath him. He stammers; he'd recognize her eyes anywhere.
He stumbles backwards, catching the bench in his dizzy spell. She frantically moves beside him, "Oh my gosh! Are you okay sir? You look absolutely awful…"
"...I'm. I'm...you. You're."
Her soft hand finds his forehead with a soft grin, "… And you're burning up."
"I- who. Wha."
He's incoherent, vision failing enough to see two of her. She helps him to lay back on the bench, crouching beside him while she reaches for her phone, "Don't worry, I'm going to get help."
"When Tony came to me, he mentioned the kids, not that you lost my cousin! No! On the way here I got that call and nearly blew up the jet."
Natasha has her legs crossed at the table, taking Jennifer's ranting.
Tony holds his head, "For what it's worth, you look way better in green."
Steve interrupts Natasha from a daydream. Rogers knocks cautiously, "Nat?"
She drops her hand from her chin and kicks her chair back, "This better be good."
He shakes his head, "That kid, Brody? He just uh.."
"He just what, Steve."
"He kinda."
Rhodes fills in the gap, standing behind the Captain, "He just shot lasers out of his eyes!"
Steve nods, "Yeah. The door's broken."
Natasha scrambles to stand with Tony and Jen following behind. She holds her focus forward and moves swiftly down the hall.
Natasha pushes the door in once she makes it to the room, watching the boy shaking beside Thor.
She crouches, soft in her voice, "Hey. What's going on?"
He sniffles and sloppily brushes away a tear, "I don't know! It just happened- I didn't mean to-!"
"It's okay. Doors are replaceable,' Natasha offers consolingly, 'What are you feeling right now?"
"Scared."
Thor grins, "Quite fortunately for you, we are the professionals of calming citizens!"
Natasha takes a breath and ignores, "Is this the first time you've ever done…something like this?"
He nods. She repeats the motion and moves to stand, "Rogers? I need you to check in on Jane. She's analyzing a vial found at the scene."
"I'll check."
"Brody? Right? What is your blood type?" The boy shrugs over Natasha's question. She bites her cheek and turns toward Steve, "Get me that too? Where are Riley and Violet? Any oddities from the rest of the kids?"
Rhodes points over his shoulder, "The little one, Violet? She is out cold."
"You think they're all metas?" Tony asks after being abnormally quiet.
"I don't know," Natasha mumbles, "Ops was looking for children with extraordinary capabilities. If Blonsky was after Izabella for himself there could be a correlation…he took Riley, Violet and Linda for a reason and they're all an AB blood type."
"Really?!" Jennifer questions suspiciously.
"Really. Rhodes? Keep an eye on the kids and please call me if- any of the others, start shooting lasers from their eyes...?"
"Yes ma'am."
"I can run tests," Tony offers.
Natasha snaps, "I want Jane on the chemistry set. You need to work with Izabella."
"I don't speak Russian-."
She grabs his collar, "You'll figure it out if it means getting my husband home."
"Okay! Okay!"