Bruce dragged his finger slowly up Nat's spine and she shivered, feeling it trace over each vertebra. She was lying against him, and she lifted her fingers and started walking them across the scars on his chest from his time as the Hulk.
"I wonder if the hair will ever grow back here," she whispered, her fingers gently tracing each one.
Bruce didn't say anything. Nat looked up at him and saw his pensive expression.
"Whatcha thinkin' about?" she asked.
"I just didn't know I could do that," he mused. "I remember after the experiment—when I first became him. I thought my life was over. Funny how high the high feels compared to how low the low felt."
"This better be a high," Nat mock-threatened. Bruce smiled wryly, never ceasing the absent dragging of his finger up and down her spine.
"This is the highest of highs. I didn't think I could feel like this."
Nat leaned into him, draping her arm over his body and holding tight. She wanted to go back in time and undo the ways the world had hurt him. She shook her head as she realized how intense that was—she was in deep. She flinched involuntarily at the thought.
"What?" Bruce asked.
"Nothing," she replied. She didn't know how to tell him how strongly she felt. She didn't know if she should. Her stomach turned at the thought of ruining this feeling, the relief and pleasure and joy she had fought so hard for.
They both jumped as a crackling static came over the comm unit of the jet in the cockpit. Nat sat bolt upright and stared at the pilot's seat—empty—and the instrument panel in front of it.
"What the fuck?" she said as she rose from the table, absently grabbing one of Bruce's shirts and pulling it over her head as she walked over to the unit.
The static came on again, and then a projection flickered up from the comm unit, blinking at first and then solid. It was Steve, but not Steve as they knew him now. It was right after he came out of the ice, his suit still old fashioned, a tight leather mask constricting his face. He fuzzed out and suddenly it was Coulson, his stern face and crisp suit bringing a pang of nostalgia and grief. The image flickered, and Nat saw her own face, her hair shorter than it was now, wearing the last edition of her suit—it was a frozen image of the message she had sent the Hulk, asking him to come back. Bruce looked away bashfully at that one. Quickly it fuzzed out, and a new person took shape in her place. It was Tony. The projection faltered, then solidified, finally taking form. This wasn't a memory or past recording—his lined face and grey temples were recent, his clothing casual. He spoke out blindly to the space in front of him—he couldn't see them.
"So, we're going to ignore the fact that you've absconded with my multi-million dollar jet and gone incognito for over a month now, Agent Romanoff," his voice was cold. "I have spent the last 72 hours trying to hack my own security protocols and let me tell you it is exhausting trying to be smarter than myself. I am in no mood to banter so you better listen up, wherever the fuck you are.
"We're going to assume you're not dead, and furthermore, that you did such a foolish, selfish thing in the name of retrieving my favorite big friendly green scientist for me—you shouldn't have, honestly, my birthday isn't for months. If that is the case, however, tell the oaf to listen up too—not the green one, the other one."
Tony's face was steely and the circles under his eyes were visible even through the projection. Nat looked at Bruce, who had pulled on a pair of pants and come up behind her. His arms were crossed, and he didn't look happy.
"Do not try and turn me off, either," Tony continued. "In fact, it would be preferable if you turned yourself on, because then I could say exactly what I'm thinking to your face and perhaps get some small sliver of pleasure in the inevitable shame I know you must be feeling from stealing my fucking plane."
Nat reached out and turned on their own comm unit. Bruce opened his mouth as if to protest, but didn't stop her.
"Ah! She lives!" Tony exclaimed, his eyes fixing on her.
"Hi Tony," Nat said.
"You've got Banner, right? You didn't just defect and take my billion dollar technology back to the KGB?"
Nat rolled her eyes, but Bruce stepped forward, into view of the camera.
"Ah." Tony said flatly, eying him up and down. "Nice. . .pelt. You better not have touched my condoms."
Nat was glad for the blue overlay of the projections, because it was the only thing that covered the beet-red color Bruce turned.
"Hi Tony," he said guiltily.
"I hate to break up the canoodling, but we need you to come in. You can honeymoon later. Preferably without stealing my jet."
"What are you talking about?" Nat asked, clearly not pleased.
"We've got something of a code red going on back here. Ya know, in the real world."
"What's going on?" Bruce asked.
"Remember our favorite Asgardian asshole?"
"Do you mean Thor or Loki?" Bruce asked.
"Oh, so you do have a sense of humor? Good. Let's put it to work.
"For not the first, nor the second, nor even the third time, our good ol' pal Loki has shown up again. Or rather, another very large, slimy space armada has shown up in his stead."
Tony flicked some gadget he was holding and an image popped up in the projection: some huge animal that looked like a cross between an elephant and a squid.
"Isn't that what your suit is for? And Thor? Sounds like a family issue. Best let them handle it," Bruce reasoned.
"Yeah, wasn't Loki up on Asgard paying for his crimes or something?" Natasha asked dryly.
"I think you are failing to understand—we have a large ship of space monsters heading for the middle of Wisconsin right now. And when I say large, I don't mean on a human scale. These things are coming in at twelve feet tall, a couple tons a piece. SHIELD would prefer we cleaned this up quietly and without bringing in human troops—or as I like to call them, liabilities."
"This is what we've been training the new guys for," Nat countered. "Let Wanda loose on them, she'll be fine."
"She took care of the first ship."
"Two ships?" Bruce asked.
"As far as we can tell, yes. Thor is off-world handling the politics, but we get to beat the brawn. Wanda took a hit. She'll be fine, by the way, since I know you were both so worried. Vision is down for the count sitting by her bedside looking mournful. This isn't something that bird boy and Rhodes can handle. Cap is tired. We need you to come in."
Nat crossed her arms and looked at Bruce. She knew he felt the same little twist in his gut at the thought of Wanda being hurt, even after what she had done to him. She also knew he had to be worried. Wisconsin was stateside, remote but not rural. If the Hulk wasn't handled, he could seriously hurt people. And as backwards as it was, the US government would probably care about any US lives lost much more than any in South Africa.
"How far out are they?" Nat asked, not looking away from Bruce. He was pensive, rubbing his hands together. She knew he didn't want to go.
"We've got about two days, according to our projections. Of course, they'd be better if they were your projections, Dr. Banner—thermonuclear astrophysics never did quite tickle my fancy quite like it did yours."
"How many?" Bruce asked grimly.
"Last ship had over eighty. We're still clearing the field—that number is maybe half of what we're looking at here."
"Where?"
"Washington—out east, in the desert. I guess they like W states or something."
Nat chewed her lip for a moment, looking at Bruce. She knew he wanted to say no. She also knew he wouldn't.
"We'll be there. Drop the coordinates," she said.
"It would help if you turned off stealth mode."
"Sorry Stark, no can do," Nat shook her head. "Don't worry, I'll bring your baby home safe."
She flipped off the projection then, crossing her arms and watching Bruce again. He crossed his arms too, mirroring her.
"You know I'm not ready," he began. "He's not ready."
"Maybe not, but it doesn't sound like we have much of a choice."
"Dammit Nat, this is what I was hoping to avoid," he turned and walked away, rubbing the back of his neck. Nat felt her cheeks burn. She had brought this to him. She knew she had. He wasn't an option to the team before she flew there and made him one.
"We can do this, Bruce. We'll go out there, we'll land, we'll fight, I'll calm the other guy down and we can hop back on the jet and be anywhere in the world before Stark has a chance to say no."
"You know that isn't true."
"When will you trust me?"
"It's not you I don't trust!" he exclaimed. Nat looked at him, her gaze level.
"People need you, Bruce."
"No! They don't!" Bruce countered. "Look, I just need more time—" he cut off and his eyes widened.
"We have two days," Nat began before noticing the expression on his face. She felt her heart skip a beat in her chest. "Bruce," she began slowly. "Just breathe. Breathe through it. This is nothing."
"This is everything I wanted to avoid," he choked out, his fists clenching at his sides as he tried to calm down.
"Bruce, walk out of the jet, come on now, let's get out on the beach in the open air," Natasha tried to keep her voice measured and calm, but she was panicking. If he hulked out in the jet they were fucked.
He let out a snarl and the green exploded down his neck, along his arm, his bicep expanding in diameter as his fingertips changed color. He staggered out onto the beach and Nat followed him, watching wide-eyed. He lurched towards the cabana and seemed to explode. The Hulk was out in what seemed like an instant. He grabbed the struts holding the cabana up over the water and yanked them, bringing the bamboo structure crashing down into the ocean. He turned towards the jet and snarled. He hurled one of the bamboo stilts like a javelin and it sailed past Nat, clattering onto the beach twenty yards down.
Without a second thought, Nat pressed the button to close the belly of the jet and ran into the cockpit. She flipped the quick-launch switch and toggled the controls necessary to get up into the air as fast as possible.
It wasn't fast enough—just as she felt the engine kick in and the lift begin, the plane lurched to the right, something massive hitting its left side. Nat didn't think, flipping open a red protective cover and pushing the turbo button. Desperate times called for desperate measures—she felt her stomach crash back into her spine and her ears pop as the jet launched forward, scraping the tops of the trees as it rose over the island, loosing the Hulk. Nat inspected the systems monitor and was relieved to see he hadn't done any significant damage. She released the turbo button and slowed the ascent, wheeling back around over the beach where the wreckage of the cabana lay. Where was he?
As she hovered over the beach, she noticed huge clouds of birds lifting and flying from the jungle. Squinting her eyes, she could see a pattern, almost like the wake of a boat, in the tops of the trees. As the Hulk ran through the thick rainforest, the trees bent and swayed behind him, marking his path clear as day. Nat set the jet's trackers to auto-follow the motion and stepped back into the cabin to change into her suit. She had a feeling that she'd need to be wearing more than an old t-shirt when she faced the Hulk this time.