Bruce braves the staircase that separates him from this woman who resembles Betty Ross, dressed in the clothes she kindly provided. The gray sweatshirt is somehow his size, complete with a neuron joke on the front. Her sweatpants are a little tight but they work.

She's humming.

Of course she's humming, Betty would always hum.

He takes a breath and moves into the main level of her second story condo. He maintains a distance, wishing it were anybody but her.

She smiles over his sudden appearance. Her voice is soft as she waits in the kitchen, dressed in a plaid dress;

"Hey."

"Hi," Bruce huffs out a strong exhale and grabs the chair in front of him for support as he digs his heel into the kitchen tile, "So."

"Are you hungry? Oh sorry. Didn't mean to cut you off."

He freezes and she catches him staring with a vacant expression, "It's fine."

"What were you going to say?"

Bruce tucks his head, "…thank you, for taking me in and everything. I appreciate your...caring. You really didn't have to."

She laughs, stacking her pancakes, "It's nothing. I live alone, so it's nice to have company. And I am truly grateful for what you did."

He nods, "I should- probably get going soon here but-."

Elizabeth shrugs and snatches one of her pancakes, "Do you live nearby? I can give you a ride...there's no rush."

Bruce bends the chair in front of him up on its two legs, "Um. No, not exactly. I'm actually from well...North America? That. I mean. I'm just here, for now."

"For now? For what?" She chews on her bite, and reaches for the syrup and a fork, "I'm from New Mexico, I'm here for a project."

"A project?"

"Someone called me in to do some work in Russia. It seemed like a rare opportunity so I took it. I'm honored they called me honestly. It would be a huge achievement if I can find some answers! I mean my resumé would. Wow- I'm doing it again. So. What are you doing here?"

He addresses her lab coat hung up on the door, "You're a-?"

"Cellular biologist,' Elizabeth lifts a shoulder and points to her stacked pancakes, 'are you sure I can't get you anything?"

"Look,' he shifts forward, 'I genuinely can't remember where I was yesterday. I know I met you in a park, that's it. My memories aren't-I'm just trying to figure out what's going on. Where I am, who you are."

"Are you a spy of sorts? Your jacket had a logo I didn't recognize."

"You didn't-? SHIELD?,' she shakes her head as he continues, 'No, I'm not a spy. I've actually been told I'd suck at it if I tried. I'm too much of an open book."

She smiles.

He fumbles for words with a recollection of Blonsky, "Was I alone? When we met?"

The woman nods her head, "It was just you when you came to my aide. It was almost like you came out of thin air."

"Huh…I mean it-well…yeah, I fell out of thin air."

She makes eye contact with the friendly stranger, "Are you some, serial killer looking to stab me in my own apartment."

"No! No. I'm not going to intentionally hurt you."

"You're a mentally unstable runaway?" She laughs softly over his frantic nature.

He shrugs, admitting with a whisper, "I have some demons."

"Everyone does. Sit."

Bruce finally breaks, taking the farthest seat from her at the table. He's ready to faint so sitting is the only option if he wants to keep his dignity…and her meal smells amazing.

It's not vegan but he's far too hungry to care when he takes a bite of a pancake. She is a talented cook, just like the Betty he knew. He instantly regrets his action; Maybe this was his hellish test and he just failed. Natasha will probably stab him the second he tells her what's happened. He chews guiltily.

She wraps her hands around her coffee mug and tilts her head as she takes a seat, "What is your field Dr. Romanoff?"

"Nuclear physics, among other things. I have too many PhDs- sorry, not trying to sound...smart? My friends get mad at me for bragging," he mumbles.

She sits back with another shrug, "Why? You no doubt worked hard for those."

Bruce clumsily drops a bite from his breakfast onto his lap. She chuckles with her head falling forward, unable to hide her instant attraction to the nerd that sits across from her. He fumbles for a napkin.

"You don't get out much," she chuckles again and bites her lip.

"Not really," he blushes mid clean up. He missed Betty's laugh.

"What are you doing today?"

He doesn't know what to say. In the event that SHIELD doesn't exist, he's low on options.

Bruce shrugs, "I don't really have a plan if I'm being honest. Might try to find a map and a phone book and go from there. I sound old."

She crosses her knee, "If you're interested, I think you might be able to help provide some insight into that project I'm working on."

"What's the project?"

"It's complicated."

"My middle name."

"Hmm?"

"Nothing," his fingertips trace over the table, eyes fixated on Elizabeth Ross.

He mulls over his current situation, the splinter slipping into his forefinger a subtle reminder of the sparks typically felt between him and Izabella...his thoughts change. She's missing too. He hopes she's safe along with the other children…

Elizabeth shifts forward, all too eager to share, "There's this, community. They've been here for a while but aren't entirely convinced that- this is going to sound crazy…"

He laughs to himself. Dining with his dead ex-wife in the middle of Russia after falling through air with his nemesis in his other form- presumably-...whatever she has to share isn't crazy.

"I'm listening," he mumbles simply.

"They are not convinced they belong here. That they're misplaced. Nothing around them is recognizable. It's a situation that quite honestly, is beginning to resemble yours."

"What do you mean…"

"This concept of limited memories, falling out of thin air…it sounds, almost like the same story this group of people have been telling me for the past few years. Forgive me for making an assumption, but this idea of another English speaking scientist falling into my lap after years of research with this wild statement- I don't know if that's coincidence."

He shakes his head doubtfully, "I don't- think, their story matches mine. Not sure what I could possibly offer but I mean I'm…"

A memory slips back; his large half over Natasha's small frame, defending the redhead from an attack as his world goes green...

"You're what?" Elizabeth asks.

Bruce runs a hand through his hair, a passing thought for his theory on Izabella's ability to find and transport things, and apparently people to another dimension.

He taps the splinter in his finger;

"I'll admit that I am a bit curious, I have questions."

She nods and lifts her mug, "Hopefully we can get you some answers."

Maria enters the lab disgusted and goes off loudly, "Stark? We just had another incident in the kid's room. Linda somehow just blew a powder off her hands. It caused a mini explosion."

Tony looks up and trips on a wire currently attached to Izabella's head. The girl stays tilted, watching the man scrambling around her.

He goes back to his computer briefly;

"Is anyone dead or dying? I'm in the middle of something- where is the-!" Izabella points quietly to a switch. He nods, "…how do you know-!"

Maria rolls her eyes, "Miss Mikhailov here might be in elementary school but she's in a senior level science and art program. I bet she could run whatever you just came up with on her own- let's go."

Tony widens his focus and laughs when he looks back at the girl;

"How about that! You think you're smart don't you?"

She nods.

He laughs, "We'll see about that. What other talents you got- other than you could potentially 'run this test without me.' Copy all the info so that I can start my next software when I get back? Yeah? Don't break anything?"

She grins, "..okay."

Tony offers a punch on her shoulder, "Try not to perform your magic on anything while I'm gone, okay Hermione Granger?"

She looks confused. He doesn't explain.

Agent Hill and Tony Stark make their way into the room where the kids are. Thor is currently holding a giggling Linda's hands apart.

He smiles with a greeting, "Why hello Metal Man! This one has discovered that her palms create explosives and she is quite intrigued."

Linda laughs, "Come on! Let me do one more!"

Tony points with a snap, "So she needs gloves. Something to help until we get some self control? Brody buddy, how are those glasses working out?"

Jane looks up at Brody, currently seated beside her. He offers a thumbs up, "Great Mr. Stark."

"Are you feeling better?"

He shrugs, shy and unsure. His glasses make him feel cool, especially because the frames match those of the infamous Mr. Stark. And as long as Jane stays beside him he feels in control.

Maria steps closer to Tony, "While we're on the topic of gloves, maybe we should create a pair for Izabella in the lab."

"She seems in control to me-."

"But what if-."

"Mr. Stark? Mr. Stark I have a question?"

"Whaaat," groans in a sing-song, more frustrated with Maria's mumbling over the young boy begging for his attention.

The boy offers his hand, flopping straight and light brown hair in his way, "I'm Garrett."

"Uh huh. What's your deal? Do you have an urge to blow things up as well?"

"No sir, I was hoping you tell us when we're being freed."

Tony drops his chin, "'Freed' huh? Do you feel imprisoned? Where is 'home' to you? Because I was told that's just back on the street and if that's the case I need to come up with a better offer."

He shrugs, "Honestly Brody, Timothy and I-."

"The boss is out, we have to wait until she gets back to clear it with her."

"I'm just speaking for the group here, for all of us. We were taken to be tested on and now we're kinda getting tested on again. It doesn't really seem okay. To me. Sir."

Tony crosses his arms, looking down at the short but vocal tween, "How old are you."

"I'm twelve."

"From Jersey?"

"Boston."

"Yeah, I hear it when you talk. Red Sox fan? Do you watch sports?"

Garrett huffs, "I…don't have a television."

Maria shifts into her hip and cuts off Stark, "When Agent Romanoff returns, we'll ask her what she wants to do. We also need to make a few calls and figure out legalities."

"Hey, I got this,' Tony rolls his eyes, 'everything she said is right but I have some connections. You wanna do something, go somewhere, I can make it happen."

"Stark please! We have a kid with a desire to blow things up, gloves! Now!" Maria shouts.

Tony pats Garrett's shoulder, "To be continued."

The boy frown with a tug at his hair, exasperated.

Thor snickers, holding a laughing Linda in place, "Fear not, I can do this all day."

Riley sits quietly with her knees and arms crossed, pouting slightly when she mumbles, "No you can't. Just because you're some Asgardian who's slaughtered 100 bullterian- what's a bullterian- doesn't mean you won't get blown up and deep down you're a little afraid of her."

Thor pulls his head back, "That is quite unfair!"

"You're terrified actually. Wow! You thought about telling me off. I'll wrestle you."

"You tempt me child! Do not try my patience, young one."

Riley sticks her tongue out.

Maria sighs and nudges Stark, "Get a brain scan on that one? She's freaking me out."

Riley yells, distrusting of Maria and her current company, "Touch me and I'll break your face!"

Maria scoffs, "I didn't say anything."

"You thought about it. I can tell."

"Geez,' Tony addresses Riley with a firm tone, 'You're an absolute pleasure to be around, aren't you?!"

"…They've been here for a while, 9 years. I relocated about two years ago now."

Betty rambles on with her dark framed glasses and her hands on the wheel. Banner's thoughts shift in between her words and her voice, struggling to separate the two.

He has his elbow on the passenger seat window, "That's a long time to be away from home."

She nods, "Yes it is. But if everything these people are saying is true, it's been longer for them. If I can help in some way...though I'm starting to doubt that. I'm sorry, I keep talking. If you want me to shut up I. Will. Shut up."

"No, no. It's fine," he grins, his eyes on her.

"You're not very talkative,' she gives him a glance, 'even though you keep staring."

He stammers, "I'm sorry. It's just- You remind me of someone I used to know."

"I have that face."

"Yeah," huffs out a laugh.

That face, that voice, and those eyes .

"Who is she?"

Her question shakes him, "I'm sorry?"

"Disregard. I shouldn't pry."

Bruce thinks he's responding, he's not. The thoughts he's having are unable to reach his tongue in any sort of communication.

He gives up and sits back.

She pulls up to a facility that makes Bruce refocus outside the window. It's huge, "That's where you work?"

She seems so excited, watching his eyes light up, "Wait until you see the inside. The lab is to die for."

Bruce can't help but look over his shoulder as they exit the vehicle with a thought for Blonsky. He shoves his hands in his pockets and follows behind Dr. Ross as she digs through her bags for her identification card.

Upon entry, she offers a smile and mentions that Bruce is with her in a broken Russian phrase.

Bruce looks up and instantly regrets it. The high ceilings, the stories that seem to just keep going. The tech demonstrated within the lobby seems far beyond anything he's touched or even created with Tony back at the tower.

He can't speak as he watches the lights flicker, the excessive mumbling from the team of fifty just in the main lobby provides the background noise. Stark would be in heaven.

Bruce taps his chest only to find the fabric of the sweatshirt, instinctively looking for a pocket and a pair of glasses that aren't there. Elizabeth opens a door and cocks her head with a mumble that pulls him from his trance, "Dr. Romanoff?"

He looks out half expecting to see Natasha, following after Elizabeth's call once he remembers his chosen undercover-name. It seems silly now. Maybe he's not in any kind of danger, just far from home.