Bruce is fighting against ending a dream about Natasha. He's calling for her in his restless sleep, missing her touch.
Her floppy red hair of the morning makes her human; the blemish he spots on her face only means she's made of flesh and blood. He adores her and everything that makes that redhead assassin who she is. She's stubborn and fierce.
For as cold as she sometimes wants him to believe she is, Natasha is kind. She's tough enough to kick him when he's failing, sensitive enough to pick him up when he feels like breaking.
In his current position he's calling for her in his sleep, crying for his wife. He hugs at the pillow with tears in his eyes, needing the warm embrace of that spy for some sort of comfort and reassurance only she can provide.
Her name slips from his lips when he comes to a realization she's nowhere to be found. In his broken groggy voice mumbles, "Tasha."
He's dizzy as he feels the tender hand over his forehead. His vision betrays him as he looks up over his current caretaker. Her eyes startle him the most when he sits up abruptly.
Bruce reaches for his borrowed blanket, his chest half bare due to the torn jacket, "Wha-."
She lifts a hand and folds over the cloth, "Just trying to help. I'm sorry. Your head looked a little bruised."
"How-."
"I felt bad after you did what you did at the park…"
"No-,' he blinks, "You. You're…alive."
She huffs, "I've had much worse. You look like you've been through a lot. You look at me as if you've seen a ghost."
He scoffs, free hand running through his curls, "You could say that."
She gives him a closed mouthed smile, head tilted over her shoulder. She runs a hand through her own soft hair and tucks her head;
"Well. You're in my apartment- I swear I'm not some serial killer. Just a scientist who happened to cross paths with you."
"Who are you," she's an angel in his eyes, needing to confirm every question.
"Oh,' she fumbles over her words and extends her palm for a handshake, 'Elizabeth. Elizabeth Ross, sorry. That was rude of me."
He huffs out a breath, unable to find another. She's here. His once beloved Elizabeth Ross less than a foot away. At least someone who looks identical with the same name, same eyes. He denies her a handshake, unsure if he can touch her at all without collapsing into an emotional wreck.
With a crumpled blanket in one hand, he's swallowing hard. He wants to touch her face, feel her warmth to know she's real. He stammers, unsure of where he is or what he should say. She doesn't act like she knows him so he offers his name, "Bruce. I'm Bruce."
"Just Bruce?" she laughs lightly. He's taking too long to speak.
Banner forces a laugh, his eyes focusing on hers with a passing thought for Natasha. Maybe giving his own name wasn't the best idea? She would probably fudge the truth in this uncertain situation.
"Um...Romanoff? Bruce Romanoff…"
"So you are Russian?"
"It's. Complicated."
Elizabeth chuckles, "Okay, Mr. Romanoff. I appreciate what you did for me. At the park. I called a friend of mine and we took you back to my place- that's where you are- I mean, sorry I said that already. I hope I didn't cross a line. I'm only trying to help."
"No, no."
"You just looked a little off and- well I wanted to return the favor. So. Thank you."
"Yeah well,' he barely remembers, 'That's what...I do? I guess? Do you know me…Elizabeth?"
She bites her lip, "I think I'd remember a kind man like you if I did, Bruce."
It's odd to hear this woman repeating his made up name- startled over having his ex-wife turned stranger less than a foot away.
He pushes himself further upright and tests her, "We haven't met before…"
The woman shakes her head, "No, I don't think so."
She's rambling and her voice breaks his heart. She must have seen the tears in his eyes when she whispers, "Are you okay?"
Bruce nods. He rubs at his right eye, restraining any urge to touch her shoulder just to see if she's real, "Yeah...I think? It's been a long day. ...Am I dead?"
"Dead?,' she laughs, 'No, you're not dead. Out of place, maybe. You look very much alive to me. Minus a few dark circles under your eyes- maybe you should rest- I'm sorry, I'm rambling on and on. Can I get you anything?"
He's missed half of anything she's said, far too baffled by her presence to process anything further. He shakes his head 'no'.
She nods, "Let me know if you need anything? I have coffee and tea downstairs Mr. Romanoff."
"Doctor," he can't help but correct it, wanting so badly to selfishly hear her call him something familiar.
She nods with a chuckle, "Doctor Romanoff…well. I can see if- I can, patch your top? You might fit into my sweatshirt since yours looks a bit-."
"Beat up?"
"Yeah."
Fixating on her every word, he nods without a reply. She feels like family and yet she acts like a complete stranger.
Bruce swallows hard to push the lump in his throat aside. He's been down the amnesia path before with Natasha. But this feels different: she's a genuine stranger.
Betty looks just like she did the day she died, bright and youthful. She's beautiful to him with her dark hair falling to her shoulders. He suddenly can't breathe when she stands to leave, the ghost triggering far too many emotions.
Once left alone he tugs at his hair breathlessly as he struggles to recall some sort of memory. If this was some kind of afterlife, he didn't feel free. Maybe it was some sort of hell. Maybe it would loop again.
He wasn't imagining it; an Elizabeth Ross was present and under the same roof of wherever he is, and he has questions.
Natasha props her boot up on the table in the lab. It's uncomfortable for her to not see Bruce behind the workbench though she lingers regardless. She crosses her arms and twirls her tongue over her cheek absent-mindedly;
"What do you have for me, Stark?"
Tony rubs his hands together, far more quiet than usual without his partner in crime, "It's fricked up superserum. The only thing Jane could match it with, is the chemical from your Black Widow program."
"Where's Jane?"
"Puking her guts out in the bathroom. Carrying god babies can't be easy, huh?"
"Yeah,' Natasha sits up taller and tugs at the bottom of her top, 'Are any others manifesting odd abilities? Or acting strange?"
Maria holds the back of her neck, "Garrett is a bit strange. Anyone else find him absurd?"
Clint shrugs, "I like him. He looks after his bros."
Thor interjects from his quiet position in the team meeting, "The littlest one has awoken and begun to bolt with great speed."
"Violet…' Natasha fills in the blanks, 'Anything from Riley or Linda?"
"Linda is sweet,' Maria shrugs, 'Riley doesn't trust easily. Nothing abnormal from them yet."
"Who is Riley? Emo kid?" Tony asks.
Romanoff shifts, "She's not emo, she's guarded."
"Emo," Tony mouths.
Maria rolls her eyes.
Jennifer knocks on the door, still in her green form with an oversized bare shouldered sweater, "Rhodes and I just got a hit on Fury."
Barton stands, "I'll check it out."
Steve and Izabella are behind the bench with Tony, waiting quietly as the crowd disperses.
Rogers breaks the silence and addresses the girl with a soft grin, "How are you holding up?"
Izabella shrugs.
Tony sighs, "Let's run some tests with you little miss?"
She agrees, nervously rubbing her feet together in one of Natasha's borrowed tops that is way too big for her.
Steve moves to check in on his friend, "How are you doing, Tony?"
"Great! I'm great. How are you Steve? Let's get tea and biscuits and catch up sometime. Discuss feelings and our deepest darkest secrets- just not right now because I have a child at a dangerous workbench who I'm trying to shamelessly exploit to bring our teammate back."
Steve stands taller, "I see you're upset."
"I'm sorry, thank you for your concern, but it's not necessary here. We're all okay. We're all great, amazing."
Izabella whispers, "I not okay. Scared."
Tony doesn't respond immediately, unsure how to;
"You know what? Me too. I don't know what's gonna happen. I miss my buddy and Red duking it out- you ever watch one of their spats?"
Izabella shakes her head.
Tony scoffs, "It's entertaining. That's why I keep the tower security cameras rolling at all times. Where's my pen?"
She lifts it.
"Oh good! You broke it,' he sighs dramatically, 'Try doing the warpy thing you were doing with Jane and Banner."
"Warpy thing?"
"Yeah. Make it disappear. Even though I love that pen. It was my favorite pen until you broke it so viciously."
"Stark," Steve scolds.
"Out, grandpa! This situation is between Uncle Tony and his niece so go find the pirate and do something useful. If your name isn't Jane Foster you can't enter the lab space. Go."
"Vrach say something dimensions."
"Vrac-? Oh him, yeah. Yes he did. So go send that pen to a different dimension and bring it back…What's with the Romanoff glare?! Put those evil eyes away. Did she teach you how to do that?"
"Sorry," she tucks her chin.
"…And there's Banner's avoidance, don't do that either. Own your space and make a mess in it. Head up,' she obeys, 'There you go."
Natasha reaches for a cuff of her uniform to respond. Maria's news of a new power surfacing from one of the boys and Natasha is unimpressed, "Keep me updated on the kids. If Ivan comes out of the woodwork I don't know what to expect. Izabella needs an army around her right now- some sort of protection…they all do."
Maria calls back over her com, 'Good luck. Stay sharp.'
Natasha switches off communications in the jet and looks over her team; Clint, Jen, Steve.
Rogers taps at his seatbelt, eyeing a pacing Romanoff;
"Are you leading? Or are you expecting me to?"
She toys with her pistol and reloads, "I know the base. I can handle it."
"Tell me about Black Ops."
"It's a cult," Barton mumbles from the front of the craft, flying smoothly.
"They use, abuse, and manipulate. Think HYRDA,' Natasha raises her weapon toward the back door to check placement, 'Everyone has an agenda."
Steve tilts his head thoughtfully, focus switching to Jennifer;
"Do you know Fury well?"
She huffs, lifts her hair and fans herself, "Nah. I've blocked his number five times over. I'm just here to wreck shop, let some of my frustrations loose…I'm burning up again."
Steve adjusts the fan to point in her direction, "Is that better?"
"Thank you. Damn radioactive, hot flashes. If I got this lovely shade from anyone other than my cousin I would've sued them. I'm not that old, truly. These muscles are fabulous though. I mean, look at this body," she mutters.
Steve blushes and looks elsewhere. She nudges him with her elbow and continues;
"In light of this past week; Either I laugh or lose my shit, you know what I'm saying? Natasha knows."
Romanoff can't hide her subtle smirk. Jennifer amuses her in the way she says whatever is on her mind.
"How much further?" Steve asks.
Natasha crosses her wrist to reach the handrail above her, "We're close."
Rogers reaches for Barton's chair in front of him for support as he looks through the main windshield, "I really hope this wasn't a diversion."
"Trust me Cap, they have no idea we're coming," Barton switches off his lights and makes a call for the two jets behind him to do the same.