Chapter Ten
Captain Rogers was gone.
Klara listened quietly to the discussion at breakfast, rumors that a cell of the organization known as HYDRA had taken residence in a facility in Maine. The captain and his friend, Sam Wilson, had been dispatched to investigate and follow any leads that might present themselves. It was unknown when they might return.
Klara knew, of course, that none of this was her doing. All the same, it was...unsettling, knowing Captain Rogers was no longer in the Tower. That she would not awkwardly encounter him in the kitchen or the training facility. She would, naturally, continue practicing what he had taught her in the few weeks since their first encounter, but...
After finishing his first cup of coffee, Mr. Stark indicated that he and Dr. Banner wished to go over the results of Klara's tests, and she followed them both to the lab without question. She still wore the sensors that Alice had placed on her almost a week ago and the data that had been gathered was apparently sufficient to provide a fairly accurate baseline from which they could work.
"You're not all that different from Thor, metabolically speaking," Mr. Stark said, tapping rapidly on his handheld screen as Klara sat patiently on one of the lab stools, "The two of you have a lot of the same genetic markers, it's fascinating."
Klara felt herself stiffen instinctively and tried to relax.
"Is that relevant?" she asked, trying not to sound sharp.
Mr. Stark glanced up, then back to his screen.
"Probably not," he said, "But it's good to have as much information as possible. Never know what might be the master key that unlocks all the doors."
Klara did not comment, though it was clear he was waiting for a response. She did not want to encourage him down this particular path since she was not at all certain that Tony Stark would keep her secret, even if she asked. Instead, she turned to Dr. Banner, who did not even appear to be listening.
"Is Alice feeling any better, Dr. Banner?"
He blinked and looked up from his tablet as if he had forgotten Klara was in the room.
"Oh," he said, looking back down at the information on his screen and adjusting his glasses, "Yeah, she'll be alright. She's just under a lot of pressure lately, finals and everything. She'll be fine."
Klara caught the skeptical glance Tony Stark shot toward his friend, but no one made any comment on this vague attempt at deflection.
"Well," Stark said, after moving some equations and making a few notes on his own tablet, "That's it then! When do we want to start the practical tests?"
He directed this question to Dr. Banner, but the doctor's distraction left a silence that Klara felt anxious to fill.
"Practical tests?"
Mr. Stark grinned at her.
"Repeat performances of what brought us all together on this little adventure."
Klara blinked. Oh. He meant the Hulk. Of course. Was that not what they had been working toward all this time? She could hear the ringing of his roars in her ears even now, and she clasped her hands in her lap as if to stave off the memory.
"Well," she said, "I suppose I should brush up on my Shakespeare."
"This isn't a joke," Dr. Banner snapped.
Klara blinked. She had never once heard him raise his voice. He was always so steady, so level, so calm.
"No," she said, some of her bewilderment bleeding through, "Of course it's not."
He seemed to realize he had misinterpreted and rubbed his eyes, setting down his tablet.
"I gotta go."
He left the lab and got into one of the elevators without another word, leaving Klara and Mr. Stark staring after him.
"So," Stark said, "Not today then."
He made a note on his tablet, but the lightness of his tone was belied by the stiff set of his shoulders. Klara dropped her eyes to her clasped hands.
"I am sorry if something I said has interfered with our progress."
Stark waved this away with a flick of his fingers, turning to the screen before him and making an adjustment of some kind.
"I figured it wouldn't be a good day," he said, "Probably won't have a good day until Alice gets her shit together. Who knows how long that will be."
Klara was surprised by the vehemence in his tone. Tony Stark was, for the most part, a difficult man to read, but it was quite clear that he cared a great deal about Alice, and not just because Dr. Banner was his friend. The angry words seemed uncharacteristic, even for him.
"Is this...?" Klara hesitated, searching for the correct phrasing, "Do you think she's alright?"
Mr. Stark sighed and shut off his screen, swiping all his work away and running a hand through his hair in a gesture that reminded Klara of Captain Rogers.
"I don't know," he said, sounding as if the admission both pained and frustrated him, "Alice is... She has a unique way of viewing the world and the people in it. Sometimes it doesn't make any goddamn sense. She is, without a doubt, the most hard-headed person I have ever had the misfortune to meet, and I've met some seriously misguided assholes."
He gave Klara a pointed look and she dropped her eyes again, feeling his gaze like a burning brand on her.
"She'll be alright," he said, picking up his tablet and making another note, "Or she won't. Either way, there's nothing we can do about it. And that's entirely her own damn fault."
He stalked out of the lab, leaving Klara sitting alone on her stool and wondering what she was supposed to do now.
Alice had gotten out of bed today. That was progress. She'd even considered leaving the room. Really. She had showered and dressed. She had her hand on the doorknob. It wasn't that big a deal. She was just going to find something to eat in the lounge. It was like two in the afternoon, no one would even be there, probably. Bruce had come through a few minutes ago, long enough to kiss her and ask how the studying was going. She had lied and told him it was fine. She hadn't read a single word. He didn't quiz her.
Her hand dropped back to her side. She didn't need to see anyone. Not until she was sure she could look them in the eye and not care. That was the goal, wasn't it? After all, she was an island. For a lot of years, she had been an island of one. She was an island of two now, since Bruce, but Bruce had a boat. He had been alone before. He could be alone again. She never signed up to be part of a team. But now she was studying nursing and learning to fly a quinjet. Like she was planning to stick around. Like Death wasn't waiting for her around every corner.
"What am I doing?" she muttered to the empty room. Shockingly, the room answered.
"Miss Ripley, Miss Potts has asked me to inform you that she is on her way up," JARVIS said in his droll voice, "She has also asked me to inform you that this is not a point up for debate."
Alice groaned and dropped her head against the closed door with a thunk. She had been dreading this. She knew Pepper wasn't going to let her brood forever. Pepper didn't do brooding. It was a waste of time.
Not a minute later, someone on the other side of the door was knocking, sending vibrations through Alice's forehead.
"Alice? I know you're in there. Come on, Happy's waiting with the car."
Alice sighed again and cracked open the door.
"I'm not decent," she lied.
"Then you're going to be very embarrassed," Pepper said, her arms crossed over her smart blazer, one heel-clad toe-tapping absently, "But it is New York and we're not going anywhere fancy, so I'm sure we'll be fine."
"Where are we going?" Alice grumbled, opening the door just wide enough to slip into the hall, tugging at her hoodie and running her fingers through her hair. It was almost past her shoulders now, and she missed being able to just pat it into place. Maybe she should get it cut.
"Out," Pepper answered, turning on her heel and clacking down the corridor, "Food. Coffee. Something. But out. You've been locked in there for nearly two days and that's at least one day too many."
Alice muttered under her breath but she followed the tall redhead into the elevator. Pepper pressed the button for the garage with one manicured finger, then crossed her arms again. They were silent all the way down. Maybe that was good, a good first step. The first step back toward the island.
They got out of the elevator, and Alice saw Happy Hogan standing in what looked like the exact same suit, next to a nondescript black sedan.
"Miss Potts," he said, nodding as they approached, "Miss Ripley."
"Happy," Pepper said, stepping into the open door of the sedan, "We're going for coffee, I think. Unless you're hungry?" she said, turning to Alice, "Have you even been eating, cooped up in that room?"
Alice shrugged. "Bruce brings me food."
"Never mind," Pepper said, leaning forward as Happy slid into the driver's seat, "Sandwiches first."
Alice slumped in her seat as they angled out of the garage and slid smoothly into traffic. There was another long moment of silence as New York City slipped past the windows.
"You can stop the act," Pepper said, tapping erratically on the phone in her hand, "You're not getting out of this by going full-on strong, silent type on me."
"I don't have an act," Alice mumbled, hunching further into the seat.
Pepper rolled her eyes, finished whatever she was doing on the phone, and turned to give Alice a pointed look.
"Everyone has an act," Pepper said, "Everyone. Tony's act is that he's a spoiled brat with no sense of decency. Bruce's act is that nothing bothers him and he's perfectly content wherever he lands. My act is that I'm actually in charge of my own life."
Alice frowned at her.
"So what's my act?"
"That you don't actually care about anyone but yourself."
Alice flinched. She didn't mean to, but she did. Pepper didn't soften even a little bit.
"But that's all it is," she said, "An act. The truth is always more complicated, and everyone knows it. But we put on these faces and everyone gets away with it because that's easier than truth. I don't know your truth, Alice, and I don't need to. But I'm done pretending that this facade you've put on is any more than that. So you can go ahead and drop it."
She settled back in her seat and pulled out her phone again, tapping rapidly into it. Alice remained slumped on her side of the car and considered. Would Pepper understand her? Probably not. But maybe she was right. Maybe she didn't have to.
"I just don't want to hurt anybody," she said and was surprised that it was almost an exact echo of what she had said to Bruce in the elevator.
"Well you're not hurting me," Pepper retorted, not even looking up from the phone, "So score one for you."
Alice actually felt herself smile. She realized it had been all of two days since she'd genuinely smiled.
"Better," Pepper said, looking up from her phone and smiling back. She put the phone away and turned to face her. "So, tell me all about your relationship problems so I can feel better about myself."
Alice laughed then, and it felt good. And while she didn't have many relationship problems to speak of, they did talk over lunch and then over coffee, and Pepper even managed to convince Alice to buy a new pair of shoes that she would probably never wear. When they got off the elevator at the penthouse a few hours later, Alice was laughing at something Pepper had said and nearly ran into Tony. He stopped and grabbed her by the shoulders.
"Oh thank god, you're back," he said, giving Alice a once over as if searching for injuries.
"Um," Alice said, her brow furrowed as she allowed this unusual scrutiny, "We weren't gone that long, Tony."
"What?" He blinked, and then seemed to realize what he'd said and grinned. "Oh! Yeah, I mean... You know what, never mind."
He pecked a kiss to her forehead and then slipped past her, grabbing Pepper around the waist and pulling her back into the open elevator, despite her squeal of feigned protest.
"Have I told you lately how much I love you?" he asked, as the doors slid closed over them.
Alice rolled her eyes, dropping her bag onto one of the lounge seats and heading for the kitchen. She had a craving for chai. She was banging around the cupboards looking for a new bag of sugar when she sensed, more than heard, someone come up behind her. She turned just in time to get pushed back against the counter, hands on her hips, lips on hers. Her fingers found curly hair and she smiled into the kiss.
"Hey," she breathed out when Bruce finally came up for air.
"Hey," he whispered back, grinning like an idiot, eyes shining behind his glasses. She felt a blush starting at her cheeks and coloring all the way to the tip of her nose. She loved his eyes. She loved his lips. She loved his hair. She loved him.
"I'm making chai," she said when he made no move to release her, "If you want some."
He shut his eyes and pressed his brow to hers, breathing in deep. He was still grinning like an idiot.
"Yeah," he said finally, "I'd like that."
He let her go and found the sugar (it was on a top shelf that she couldn't have reached anyway) while she got the water started, dumping in the tea as it started to steam. They didn't say anything else. There was nothing else to say. She didn't know how long it would last, but for now, they were good. She was good.
Klara was unexpectedly relieved when Mr. Stark informed her that the practical tests of her abilities would begin on Monday. Captain Rogers had been gone for only a few days, and she could already feel the beginnings of restlessness building in her chest and limbs. Though she had been trying to maintain her training in his absence, she found that it was not the same without his encouragement pushing her to exceed her limits, and she often caught her mind wandering dangerously. She was eager for something, anything, to occupy her thoughts, and the prospect of coming face to face with Dr. Banner's alternate identity proved to be a sufficient distraction.
Lord Thor accompanied her to the underground "Dungeon" and Klara was pleased to see Alice Ripley waiting for them.
"Alice," she said, stepping from the elevator to greet the Midgardian girl with a smile, "I am glad to see you recovered from your recent illness."
Alice smirked.
"Yeah me too," she said, "I see you dressed for the occasion this time."
Klara dropped her eyes and resisted the urge to toe at the stone floor with her athletic shoe. She was wearing what she usually wore for her training sessions, a close-fitting tunic of breathable fabric and matching leggings, a practical outfit, no frills or frippery. The long tail of her hair dropped over her shoulder and she could almost hear Captain Rogers' voice in the shadows.
You should wear your hair up...
"Here's your panic button."
Miss Romanov appeared from seemingly nowhere, making Klara jump. The red-headed woman smirked as she held out the blue button, and after only a moment's hesitation, Klara held out her arm, allowing it to be strapped to her wrist. In many respects, Miss Romanov was even more difficult to read than Mr. Stark and far more intimidating. Once the button was secure, Klara clasped her hands tightly behind her and inexplicably wished her hands were wrapped in boxing tape. Miss Romanov was still smirking at her.
"You remember the drill, right?" Mr. Stark said, his eyes fixed to his computer readouts, "Your sensors are still on? You're all good?"
Klara nodded, and made an affirmative noise, her throat too dry to risk speech. She glanced over Stark's shoulder. Dr. Banner stood very still within the bright room, in the same strange outfit he had worn before, a composite material designed for his unique physiology. His eyes were shut, brow furrowed, shoulders moving with steady, even breaths. Mr. Stark had her test the panic button a few times and re-calibrated her sensors 'for luck'. Then he turned to the bank of buttons in front of the window and pressed one down.
"Alright, big guy, we're all set out here. Do your worst."
Klara approached the window to get a better view. She had missed the transformation before, distracted by arguments and harsh words. Now she watched as Dr. Banner dropped his head to his chest, took one last, deep breath...and then exploded with the force of a small earthquake. He spun on the balls of his feet, far more agile than any creature of that size ought to be, and threw himself against each wall in turn, roaring frustration. He seemed to sense that the wall in front of them was where the threat truly lay and began to concentrate his efforts, slamming over and over against the shimmering field of blue protecting the disguised glass. Mr. Stark touched a few buttons and moved a sliding knob up just a touch, his face alight with concentration and delighted fascination. He was enjoying it in a strange way, the danger of it.
"Alright, I think you're up, Hulk-whisperer," he said with a hint of jest to his tone, though Klara did not understand the reference.
The Hulk threw himself one last time against the window and fell back, snorting and shaking his head as if to clear it. Klara approached the large steel door off to the side and stood with her hands clasped behind her, her back to all the others watching. She shut her eyes and pictured the door to a very different dungeon. She took a breath and could smell the chill in the air, letting it fill her lungs and seep into her blood.
"Ready?"
Her spine straightened and her eyes opened. She nodded. The door hissed and without hesitation, Klara stepped inside, letting the door fall shut behind her.
The Hulk roared and took a running charge at her. Klara leveled her gaze at him and stood her ground. He stopped at two paces, his eyes fixed on hers, his fists clenching and unclenching at his sides as if trying to decide.
"Hello again," she said, still surprised that her voice did not tremble, "Is that any way to greet a friend?"
He snorted and turned away from her, pacing back to the far wall and banging his fist against it. The blue field rippled out in waves beneath his fist. Klara took a step forward.
"Well, that's not doing you any kind of good, is it?"
He turned and roared in her direction, but it wasn't a challenge. It felt more like...a pout. Like a child who wanted his way and didn't know how to get it, and when someone pointed this out all he could do was shout. The image brought a smile to Klara's lips, but she quickly put it away, pressing her nails into her palms.
"How can I then return in happy plight,
That am debarred the benefit of rest?
When day's oppression is not eas'd by night,
But day by night and night by day oppressed."
Klara felt her grip on her clasped hands relax as she spoke the words. She had found the sonnets of the old poet on the information network Midgardians called the 'internet', and she had been studying them. The flowing rhythm of the words was soothing, even as the words themselves seemed to speak to her heart, to her restless nights and anxious days, to the shadow that had haunted her every waking moment since-
Hulk snorted again and dropped his hand, crouching as she spoke, his eyes narrowed as if he suspected a trick. Klara shook away her reverie and took up the cadence of the rhymes once more.
"And each, though enemies to either's reign,
Do in consent shake hands to torture me,
The one by toil, the other to complain
How far I toil, still farther off from thee."
Farther off from thee... Klara felt the weight of the pendant she wore but ignored it, taking a step forward, slowly, but not hesitantly. Hulk shifted but did not draw away. He was watching her closely with his large, dark eyes. Klara's heart thumped hard in her chest.
"I tell the day, to please him, thou art bright,
And dost him grace when clouds do blot the heavens."
She crouched before him. He let out a breath in a harsh huff, not quite a snort, but he still did not pull away. His eyes flitted over her, still cautious, still waiting.
"So flatter I the swart-complexion'd night,
When sparkling stars twire not thou gild'st the even."
She held out her hand. He expelled another huff and shifted again. She remained where she was. It was his choice. She would not push him to it. He had so few choices that were his own.
"But day doth daily draw my sorrows longer-"
The words caught in her throat and she swallowed. Hulk glanced up into her face, fixed his eyes on her, and slowly, so slowly, lifted up his hand, palm up to her. An invitation. She smiled and forced the final words past her lips as she reached for him.
"And night...doth nightly make grief's length seem stronger."
Her fingers brushed the skin of his palm and it rippled. His face contorted and he groaned deep in his chest, pitching forward to collapse to his knees. Klara caught his arm by instinct and felt magic flee from her touch, like a wind through dry grass. Hulk made a choked sound, like a roar that could not break free, and shriveled inward, hitting the floor on his opposite shoulder, still twice the size it should be. Klara tucked his arm beside him and then stepped back, allowing Dr. Banner time to regain himself again. He was heaving as if still struggling for breath and for a moment Klara feared that something had gone wrong. But finally, he slumped over onto his back and opened his eyes, blinking into the bright light.
"Still can't get over the Shakespeare," he gasped, still catching his breath, "Who would have thought?"
Klara smiled, her fears alleviated by his words. "Beauty knows no bounds, it would seem."
"Well," Mr. Stark said, appearing at Dr. Banner's side and kneeling to check his vitals, "I'd call that a successful test. I can't wait to get this data downloaded into the lab computers, it's gonna be phenomenal."
"I can't wait to get a shower and sleep for about a week," Dr. Banner said, sounding every bit as exhausted as his words suggested.
"Just in time for Test Number Three!" Mr. Stark said cheerily and the doctor groaned, though he did not really sound put out about it. He was still smiling a little at the corners of his mouth, satisfied by a job well done. Klara felt another knot of anxiety loosen in her shoulders and she let out a breath.
"That was pretty amazing."
She straightened again as Alice approached, her arms crossed over her chest but smiling.
"I mean, you just stood there," she said, sounding impressed, "You didn't even flinch. It was wild."
"To show fear is to invite challenge," Klara recited. She remembered this from her lessons with Elli. She had been speaking of nobles, of course, and servants like Fulla, who cared only for their own gain and had no qualms about clawing upon the backs of others to reach their ends. But the advice had served Klara well on several occasions. Her chest clenched to think of Elli.
You were born to be loved...
She blinked and realized that Natasha Romanov had also entered the room and was staring at her pointedly, as if in challenge. She did not dare avert her gaze, clasping her hands behind her tightly once again. The other woman held her there for a moment, then turned and strode away, without any indication of what she had been thinking. Klara felt the knot of anxiety in her shoulders tighten again.
"Klara?"
Lord Thor had joined them as well, and she gave him a tight smile before his concerned eyes could question any further.
"I am very tired," she said, dropping one foot behind her and dipping into a small curtsy, "I wonder if I might retire for the afternoon."
"Of course," Lord Thor said, the question in his eyes vanishing into kindness and understanding, "Take whatever time you need."
"Thank you, my lord."
Klara left the room and blinked a few times, allowing her eyes to adjust to the dim light of the Dungeon once more. Miss Romanov was gone. Klara stepped into the elevator and pressed the button for Level 27, flexing her fingers into fists and trying to suppress the tingle of unease she could feel building in her limbs. Perhaps a stop by the gymnasium would help her work through the tension. She changed her floor selection and shifted on her feet.
How far I toil...still farther off from thee...
A/N: The sonnet I used here is #28, in case anyone was wondering. I'm going to go back through and add in all my references to the previous chapters because I realized I forgot to put them in :) Also, can we talk about the irony of posting a chapter on 4th of July in which Captain America is noticeably absent? ;P LOL