"We can destroy what we have written, but we cannot unwritten it."
-Wily Wonka (Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, 1971)
"By eureka, you did it, man! - er, woman!" Tony claps Diana on the back as he grabs the yellowing photograph in her hands. Examining it, he quickly finds the name to one of the faces within the frozen moment and darts towards one of the crates Diana has selectively put aside. "Ulyssess Klaue," he concludes.
"A famed black markets operator," Maria Hill elaborates, forcing Steve to harden his gaze at the scientist.
Raising one wagging finger at him, Tony dimissess his judgement as he returns to their clustered formation. "There are conventions, alright? You meet people and anyway, I didn't sell him anything. But during the event he was talking about something, a 'game changer,' - a, an 'Ahab."
Thor pushes himself off of the console he had been leaning on and examines the picture Tony had stolen from Diana. "This…" he points.
Tony stares at him, as if wondering what extent of 'Midgardian' knowledge he had, before he declares that the markings on the neck of the man are simply just a tattoo. However, Thor disagrees. "No, no, those are tattoos," he gestures at the inked lines decorating the man's thick forearms. "This is a brand."
Bruce lets out a noncommittal sound as he swerves away from his desktop. "Yes, yes, it's a brand," he confirms. "A word, actually, from an African dialect. Means thief...in a very unfriendly way."
"What dialect?" Steve inquires.
"Wankanda? Wa..na...Wakanda?" Bruce sounds out.
Tony presses his eyes close. "If this guy got out of Wakanda with some of their trade goods…"
"I - I don't follow. What comes out of Wakanda?" Bruce asks for everyone else in the room. While Natasha seems more invested in nursing some invisible headache of hers with a mug of coffee, Diana, Maria, and even Clint sport the same varying confusion on their faces at the conclusion both Tony and Steve are making. There is also Thor, but the god never seems outwardly bothered by anything once progress is being made, and Bruce, again, aspires to achieve that relative ease and confidence.
"The strongest metal on earth," Steve quietly answers, then turns to face him. "Where exactly is this guy now?"
Unfortunately, Bruce isn't an intelligence expert and relays this to the Captain as Maria and Barton easily pick up from where he left off. Excusing herself to make some calls, and sequestering a new corner for his own searches - both former SHIELD agents exclude themselves from the gathering as Steve ushers them outside of the lab. He gives the two an unnecessary reminder to keep everyone updated as Tony leaves them to phone Pepper about the newest revelations.
Bruce, while familiar with almost everyone in the team, is still wary with the addition of a new member. Steve had told them she would be a temporary help in the current debacle, but otherwise, failed to help her or perhaps just him, with acclimating to her. Although, as big as Stark's tower is, it only opened its doors to the higher floors - limiting the amount of per square space Bruce had to evade the mysterious woman.
Packed in a corridor of bulky men and one clouded redhead left Bruce not much area to use to restrain his exposure to Diana. "I don't bite," she smiles as he finds himself walking by her side.
"I, uh - I know, I mean -"
"I know your history, Dr. Banner. I do not judge you for what you have done, only for what you are trying to do," she cuts off. Their group breaks off into the previously wrecked lounge area and suddenly, Bruce's lungs expire a breath he has no recollection of holding. Having (successfully, Natasha had added) recently recovered from a transformation always made him feel the war within his mind more strongly than previous days. While he had years to master his control over the Other Guy, Bruce could not rely on feeling alone to be assured that nothing would faze him into another rampage. As a scientist, emotions to him are as intangible as Asgard - and they currently housed a god from the planet itself. Bruce has to see in order to believe, and while Diana has showcased no evidence of maldoings - she still has much to prove in his eyes in order to deem her as safe.
"Thank you, I think," he reminds himself to reply. He observes Diana's small smile, compares it to Natasha's red-coy lips, and looks away. Two women, they are two very, very different women, he realizes; each exuding a terrorizing amount of power, but terrorizing they are. He shuffles away from Diana and her dark locks in favor for Natasha's red curls harshly pushed away from her heart-shaped face.
"What got you in a mess?" he asks, as he gratefully accepts the last cup of brewed coffee from her.
The redhead shrugs, dark bags slightly protruding from the concealer applied to her face. "I wanted to give Diana a welcome and misanalyzed the alcohol tolerance of a demi-goddess," she grumbles.
Bruce smiles. "Well, she did say demi." She didn't hide it from them, much to both his disappointment and appreciation. He admittedly had had enough with previously fictitious deities coming into his life and proving his literature wrong, but at the same time, he is grateful that he had been saved from the mission of doing a background check on her. He suspects that while the woman enjoys a more prolific lifestyle, she has done her best to hide her secrets - secrets, which he is still curious about, but not as much as he wonders about her relation with their Captain America.
"Oh, hush you," Natasha drawls. "She's good, Bruce. You can trust her."
"Trust?" he repeats. "You're asking for a lot there, Natasha." However, when he finishes his sentence, he somehow feels the need to rectify his words or reverse the time. For when he raises his gaze to meet hers, he finds her verdant colored eyes staring at him with an indiscriminate depth he has no wish to analyze. Thankfully - he is given no time to draw observations from them as she disrupts the contact with the rise of her pale, ceramic mug.
"I've come to learn that I tend to ask a lot of things from you, Bruce," she muses, setting down her empty cup. Again, she pins him in place with her heavy gaze. "I'm just a demanding woman, it seems."
"Stop scaring him, Natasha," Steve hovers by them, no doubt more to monitor their newest member who has also joined their conversation.
"You should really consider adding killjoy to your resume, Captain," Natasha rolls her eyes and leans away from the counter. "How long do you think it'll take them to find them?" she asks.
"Even with the system down, I'd give Tony an hour at most to track the guy," Bruce estimates, grateful for the shift in topic. He glances over at the woman by Steve and wonders if she opted for a special suit of her own during fights.
"I agree," Steve ignores Natasha's banter. "Bruce, we won't need you but -"
"Just in case I'll stay in the quinjet," he finishes somberly. He turns to the other woman once again, hoping that her position as a half-goddess would prevent the need of him releasing the Other Guy. Having just given him free reign, Bruce is unsure of how well he would respond to any of Natasha's future cajoles to return to normal.
Steve nods. "Let's suit up then, Maria is also looking up on the two accomplices Ultron might recruit. We've met them, but everyone will get a debriefing on their skillset on the flight."
From a distance, Barton rolls his shoulder. "Yeah, Speedster and Miss Mind Control. Can't wait to see them again, cannot wait," he calls over to their group.
Bruce rubs his brow. While he has no issues with the former, the latter makes his heart palpitate by just thinking of the destruction she could wreck on his mind. Stable and unstable, he can only guess of how little prodding the Other Guy needed in order to flush his vision red.
"We'll take care of them," Steve cuts through his worries. He fixes Bruce a leveled gaze before he turns and offers Diana a tour of some overtly weaponized site in Stark's tower. Watching the two figures depart, Bruce turns his attention back to Natasha humming a tune lost on everyone but her.
"Do you think we'll be fine?" He can't stop the flood of trepidation in his question, but he has never proclaimed himself as one to provide false bravado and confidence - he's not Thor or Tony; he's Bruce Banner with the monster looking over his shoulder.
Natasha stops her melodic tune and seems to sift through the silence for an answer. With that, Bruce loses the small semblance of hope he has in a homerun of a mission; good never comes out of hesitation.
And his assumptions are proven true once the whisper of the quinjet's main platform levels downward onto the sleet of sand and sparse green. Tentatively, he steps out of the confines of the metal bird, feeling both heat and despair fill the loose gaps of his too-large-shirt. Squinting against the light, he searches to no avail for a sign of his comrades. The communication units had all died - at least on his end, leaving him nothing to assess the situation beyond.
A shout traps itself in his throat as he stumbles back at the collision of red and gold. For a moment, he thinks it is Tony - but quickly reminds himself that the egotistic scientist had been knocked out of range. He can't think of anyone that flashes the same flamboyant colors, but is surprised when Diana rises from the risen dust clouding the field. He opens his mouth to shout at her, gather an update on everyone's status - but she speaks first, ordering him to return into the jet and close up the door.
Bruce reckons he would have listened to her, with his heart pounding in his ears, but she is easily knocked out of the way by a blur of blue and too soon, his vision is submerged by red and suddenly he no longer knows friend from foe as all he can think of is the Threat.
Blindly, Bruce fights against the drowning waves of endless rage, trying with all his might to overtake the Other Guy from completely surfacing and taking over his mind - but the Other Guy is smarter than he is willing to recognize. He has had time to build up his reserves of anger and betrayal and sends one final tidal wave of resentment at Bruce. He flails, futilely - before he finds his metaphysical lungs burning. In another time, he would have been relieved if they had been screaming for air - but that is not the case today. The Other Guy has created stores of emotions to drown Bruce, and he is overwhelmed by both the intensity and purity of the hatred scorching throughout his body. His willpower had never been strong. His eyes close.
He just wants the fire to stop.
"Bruce! Dr. Banner!"
Diana's eyes wildly watch the formerly calm Doctor emerge from the dust storm with a quaking roar. Turning her head, she scans the vicinity for the troublesome mutants, but finds that they have vacated from the premises. She does not give chase to any of them as their goal makes itself clear to her in the form of a charging green giant. She narrowly evades a backhanded swipe from the beast - Dr. Banner, she corrects in her mind as she floats up in a daze, runs off in his rage.
"You still there, Miss World Wonder?" Stark's sharp question puts breath back into her lungs as Diana forcibly exhales both sand and shock out of her system. Looking up, she catches sight of Tony's unmistakeable form streaking through the sky - trailing after Dr. Banner's aftermath.
"I...I am," Diana finally replies. She takes to the sky and after one more second of hesitance. "I am right behind you, Tony," she adds.
"Good, good -" she hears him mumble for some news footage before letting out a curse. "Natasha, I could really use a lullaby."
"Well, that's not gonna happen," Barton joins their conversation. "Not for a while. The whole team is down on this end, you got no back up here. Just you and the Princess." A beep follows after, signaling that he has ended further communication.
Again, Tony curses. "You hear that, World Wonder? Ready to calm Dr. Banner?" A few meters in front of her, Diana sights the Iron Man armor dart down into an incoming town and feels the sonic wave of no doubt metal and giant fist colliding with one another.
She is very much unprepared to handle Bruce, having never fought a friend before, but she speeds up her flight and throws her lasso around the giant. Her feet slam against the cement amidst the chaos and using her newly gained momentum, she tightens her hold on Banner and pulls - He doesn't budge.
"Let go, Princess, Let go!" Tony's warning comes a second too late as she finds herself torn from the ground and thrown at a nearby building. Bricks and mortar coalesce around her as the sounds of fighting continue on.
Groaning, Diana pulls herself out of the rubble, mindful of the wide eyes and takes off again. She dismisses the utilization of her lasso and settles for tackling Dr. Banner into a car. He roars, his very voice echoing against her own body - but Diana ignores it. Ignores the possibility that in this form, he could easily tear her to pieces, and concentrates on her own strength. Securing her grip on the Doctor, she lifts and manages to get him a few meters off the ground before a wayward fist catches her in the head and throws her off course.
They both land in the middle of some road, combined weight forcing a victimized car beneath them to whine in protest - but Diana does not let go.
"Come on Princess, just keep him down a little longer." Tony's voice buzzes in her ear, or not - Diana isn't sure. Between the thrumming in her head and the pounding in her ears, she isn't too quite sure on what to trust anymore. On top of her, Banner gives out one more growl before he rips his arm from her grasp and slams his opposite fist into her head. Having nestled herself into the car beneath her, there is nowhere else for Diana to go and simply shoulders on the impact. Stars blur her darkened vision as she feels the unmistakable trickle of blood run down one side of her face.
"VERONICA, give me a hand - go to sleep, go to sleep, go to sleep!" Diana rolls over and manages to get herself on all fours. Her body is hunched inwards, shielding itself from an omnipresent pain as she watches Tony pick up Dr. Banner. "Let's get out of town, buddy - Come on, Bruce! You gotta work with me!"
Seeing Tony lose hold of the Doctor, Diana refrains herself from shaking her head as she shoots off to catch the man before he could do more damage to the town. However, her grasp on the large forearm is slick with sweat and she can only fly them a few more streets away from the town center before Tony joins her. "Drop him!"
She trusts in Tony's command and releases her hold on the thrashing giant. Looking down, she spots Tony catching the Doctor. "How quickly can we buy this building, hm?" she hears him rhetorically ask as he sweeps over a large establishment. Diana doesn't hear the reply, but she guesses it is enough for him to drop the Doctor. Levels of the foundation easily wither away with the impact, but from it, Bruce's green form still rises. Tony reacts faster than her and knocks him out with his steel-clad fist.
To everyone's relief, his skin starts to fade from a fungal green to a patchy tan again as the country's military swells the streets around them. Diana lands beside Tony.
"We have to move out," he says quietly, no longer using the COMM unit to communicate with her.
Diana stares at the expanse of wrecked buildings, overturned cards, and bloodstained cement. Everything in her says to stay, to help - but the barrels of guns pointed at them restrain her from moving towards the locale. "Okay." Her voice is soft against the cries of the people. She had never seen such aftermath that had been caused by her. Of all the decades she has lived, she had never caused destruction on a public setting until now. "Okay," she repeats, her throat giving way to a hoarse reply. She doesn't acknowledge Tony's gaze and reaches down to carry Bruce's prone form. Tony announces something else to the crowd gathered around them, her brain vaguely recognizing him utilizing a software to translate his words to a language used by the locale before they depart.
Fortunately, Clint is only a click away to gather them into the jet.
Diana gently lays Bruce down on one of the chairs, mindful of the bowed heads in the hold and saunters towards her own seat. While she can only wonder at what nightmares one of their foes had brought to her companions, Diana is too asundered by her own demons to give them much comfort; they wouldn't want her comfort anyway.
"The news is loving you guys. Nobody else is," Maria Hill announces from some distant telecom. "There's been no official call for Banner's arrest but it's in the air," she adds grimly.
Tony's soft patter of sneaker-clad feet fill the air. "Stark Relief Foundation?"
"Already on the scene," Maria provides. "How's the team?"
"Everyone…" she feels Tony's eyes rest on her once again and ignores it. "We took a hit," he admits. "We'll shake it off."
"Well for now I'd stay in stealth mode, and stay away from here," Maria advises.
"So run and hide?" bitterness seeps into Tony's voice.
However, Maria Hill is not a woman to sugarcoat her words for his comfort. "Until we can find Ultron, yes - otherwise I don't have a lot else to offer," she continues. The sound of her typing away on keys signals her attention diverting onto a new task. Tony ends the call.
"How are you?" Diana feels Steve land on the seat beside hers, and also feels his attention on anything but the question he had just asked.
Although, she recognizes it for what it was: a captain checking on his team. Her skin feels cold. Team - she had only been in one prior to this. And that one had been more vulnerable. Amicable but vulnerable - she had watched their hairs gray and their grandchildren visit their graves while she stood unaffected by time. This new team - it is everything her old one was - in both good and bad ways. Yet with the recent events that had just occurred, she can't help but to see more bad than good.
"I'll be fine," she settles, leaning back in her seat. Tilting her head back, she hopes the wound on her head closes soon. If she loses too much blood, she would faint - and she would rather be awake for the next few hours if she could help it.
"Here," Steve says, but instead of giving her something, simply puts a damp towel on the side of her face. Diana's face instinctively closes as she feels the scratch of wet, softened fibers whisk away the crusted blood.
"Thank you," she mumbles, reaching over to halt him from doing more. Chancing a narrow view at the Captain, she offers him a smile, hoping it is enough to placate him in his actions. "I heal fast," she tells him.
Steve nods and simply closes the first-aid kit he had brought with him.
"And how are you?" she asks.
"Shaken, but I'm fine," he says, and Diana doesn't doubt it. While the others looked like shells plagued by nightmares, Steve walked off as if he had only sustained a minor setback - sporting only a bruise that seemed to stubbornly fight against his own rapidly healing cells. However, she knows all men carry their ghosts - whether they be tallies, names engraved in stone, broken promises or regrets - people like Steve did not get to walk away from attacks of the mind. Not like how he appeared to be doing so right now. She would not prod, but she would not let him believe she is fooled either.
"Sometimes, after our campaigns, we would gather at the nearest hub - drink the watered down alcohol and dance with each other and the locals," Diana relays. "We lived for those who could no longer do so," she pats the back of his hand. "Remember them, Steve, but don't let them hold you down." The words are acid to her, but she still says them. The memory of her own Steve had held her back for so many years - still holds her back in many things, but she has learned to adapt. While she still carries his ghost, Diana also carries his dreams and aspirations. She can only hope that this Steve, with the same burning desire to save and spread goodness would be just as willing to acknowledge his own ghosts and live with his past rather than let time lost eat him away.
No soldier walks away from the battlefield unscathed.
Steve may be shaken, but she suspects he is burying more than he is willing to acknowledge.
"Barton says it'll be a few hours till we land," Tony walks past them and drops a shirt into Bruce's lap.
"Where are we going?" Steve asks.
"A safe house," Tony answers.
