AN: A trip to the precarious past. Why did the things that happened... happen? (I swear these chapters are getting longer and longer!) Enjoy!
Ch 13: Dominoes of The Past
One Year Ago
The Avengers were finally reaching the end of a days-long struggle with HYDRA. A formidable, persistent force, it survived the passing decades with a single motivation: worldwide dominion.
By dividing the heroes, they nearly conquered them. Psychological manipulation played a factor, of course. Wrong was wrong and right was `right, and each Avenger knew the difference. But HYDRA had its tentacles in many affairs, and it knew things most enemy organizations should not. Things like the location of certain loved ones, background files, old dirt from the past. Then again, with a few moles planted here and there, it was to be expected. The one least susceptible to it all was Romanoff. Her resolve was well-trained, and she had some mind games of her own. It was what led them all to Berlin.
An old base was stationed here, revived with plans of army-building and hacking various nuclear launch codes. "Missile #8 offline," Iron Man confirms over the intercom. "We're done here. Tell me things're wrapping up on your end."
"Looks like I'm finally about to make you happy." A winded Captain America tossed his shield at a soldier that just wouldn't stay down. "Widow and Hawkeye's taken out the bombs, and I've seized the apparatus. Come on around so we can finish this."
"Gotcha."
Within hours, SHIELD was all over the facility, agents commandeering all possible data and weaponry for the future. Surviving enemies were taken for interrogation and eventual incarceration. After all was said and done, Earth's heroes were promptly received by the Helicarrier.
It was now the government's unfortunate task to pick up the pieces, scars of battle riddled about.
Exhausted, a god, two agents, a supersoldier, a mechanic genius, and a radiated physicist all sat in seclusion. Dust and dirt covered their skin and attire, hair wild from battle. The low hum of four engines provided gentle background noise for their eventual chatter.
"For a second there, I almost thought we were bitin' it," Clint wiped down his remaining arrows with care. With his impeccable aim, it was no surprise he held onto a few of his best ones. "Crappy way to go, too, considering all we've been through."
"As if I'd let a bomb be the thing to end me." Natasha shifted in her seat, taking a long sip of her drink. "HYDRA has gotten rusty in its old age. I'm not opposed to it."
"I wouldn't be so sure." Steve rested his chin over his laced fingers, eyes set on a spot on the floor. "I know HYDRA. I know how their people operate. They'll plant and wait and deceive… and they'll try however many times it takes to get what they want."
"So… like every other asshole we've gone toe-to-toe with, basically." Tony chimed in, raising his glass to the Captain. "We're the best of the best. They try to get up, we beat 'em down. Now's a time to celebrate, Mr. Spry. I, for one, think we kicked ass today."
"Seconded." Thor voiced between bites of pizza. His hefty appetite called for two boxes between the group, and he was getting to work on his fourth slice. "I suggest a gathering at Tony's tower!"
"Not in that tattered mess, you don't. I'm a classy guy. Let's keep it classy."
"Classy, he says," Bruce mocked quietly, curled up into his chair. He sported an oversized burgundy henley shirt, a sly smile managing to shine past his tiredness. "Thor, Captain, be prepared to learn a looot about Duran Duran."
Tony hummed in unabashed agreement.
"What's a 'Duran Duran'?" The out-of-time soldier asked.
"Only the classiest band around." Stark humored. "It's time to expand your horizons."
The lights above were bright though not overbearing, the conditioned air everyone's comfort. It was time to head back to something familiar, something… tame. In a world so abundant with megalomaniacal psychopaths, downtime was, in a word, precious. It took a steeled mind and heart to stand up to those who constantly pushed the envelope of Armageddon. With each victory, the team grew stronger, and they grew together. So why was the doctor having so much trouble as of recent?
He glanced between the oblivious group before him, scanned their dirty, bruise and cut-riddled faces. This. This had become his family. Its beginnings were rocky, tumultuous, and graceless, but he was used to those things. He was one side of a volatile coin… and was accepted regardless.
Cupping his face in his hands he used the excuse of fatigue to silently sort things out in his head. Everyone's voices became a quiet background garble, and he suddenly became aware of an inner pressure. Words seldom got under his skin, but something a HYDRA operative said swirled endlessly around his head:
"You're an object, Doctor Banner. A tool. How you are now is just as your measly SHIELD wants you; you can't be had any other way. So keep pretending you're in control. Perhaps your sanity will withstand another few years…"
"Banner." Thor tore through his quiet fixation. "Are you alright?" All eyes turned toward him.
"Hm? Oh—yes. I'm fine." He said nothing more, grabbing a slice of pizza.
Tony watched him a moment longer than everyone else, but ultimately returned to his conversation.
It was a 9-hour flight back to New York.
...
A few days had passed since the big battle. The two scientists were now returning from a mandatory press conference. It was all to ease the panic of recent events; numerous countries had begun to grow restless and fearful. They needed the Avengers to be their pillars of strength and security.
The air was nippy with late winter's breeze, swiping at the pair from the cracked windows of a Mercedes Benz. Tony was of course behind the wheel, all too eager to break in the new whip. Bruce fiddled with his tie in the passenger's seat, loosening it a bit. It was good to be away from probing eyes. "Correct me if I'm wrong," Tony started, "but I'd like to think that we're friends. Mutual confidants, if you will."
"…Yes?" Bruce gave him an odd look, rubbing the tie's material between his fingers.
"Good." Tony's finger tapped on the steering wheel, eyes set on the traffic ahead. "That's good. So, I figured I'd ask why you didn't tell me—or ANY of us for that matter—that Hulk's been giving you trouble lately." Bruce didn't feel inclined to respond. "…It could really hurt the team, not to mention you—"
"—I've dealt with him this long…" The physicist's digits moved from the tie and instead to his knee. He tapped rhythmically, gazing out at the passing city. "This doesn't make you the Hulk Whisperer all of a sudden, I hope you know that. But still—how could you tell?"
Stark scoffed in humored disbelief. Hulk Whisperer. That was a new one. Then again, Bruce had been snippier than usual. It was pretty amusing at times… but that wasn't the question. "Well, I don't recall your eyes having the tendency to turn green at random. Plus, you've been on edge. Don't think I haven't noticed."
Bruce looked in the other's direction, lips forming a thin line as he gingerly brought his jacket further around himself. His gaze returned forward, and he was quiet for a few short seconds. No doubt Tony would pick up on the minute details; he had a keen enough eye for it. Especially when the small things about Bruce mattered to him more than the big ones. It was… refreshing. "I forgot who I was talking to." He resigned quietly.
"Clearly," said Tony. The Benz made a sharp right, avoiding what would have been another ridiculous stream of traffic. He wondered why he hadn't already built a flying car. "What do you usually do when the Roommate gets pushy? Should I order you a bong or somethin'?"
Bruce cracked a smile, unable to hold back the tiny chuckle that rolled forth. "Maybe I'll humor you one day, but no. Typically, I meditate. I find any way to center myself. But lately…" It'd been a task. Filling the mind with other, numerous occupations were a quick fix for the issue, but the brain could only accept so many empty calories. And the substance it needed drifted further away. Something was changing… and in all honesty, it frightened Bruce. His expression turned somber. "It's like he's pushing the boundary. Like he's getting more room and I'm getting less." Things certainly seemed great in the beginning. The Avengers Initiative was an opportunity to, in his eyes, redeem himself for all the hurt he'd caused. His life had a purpose beyond running. He didn't want to lose that. Never.
"All the more reason to say something, Bruce," Stark reprimanded. He slowed and turned into his private parking garage, the day's natural light replaced with artificial yellow.
The doctor nodded thoughtfully, gently tugging on his lower lip. "Perhaps. But if I don't have control, then what do I have?"
Tony parked as close to the exit as possible, giving the hardest of looks to the oblivious other. "You have friends, Banner."
"Nooot if I lose control." Bruce unbuckled his seatbelt, unfazed by his own, warped thought process. "I'll just have to fight a little harder, that's all."
Silently, the pair headed up into Stark Tower.
Three Months After
Trust was a beautiful, dangerous thing. It spoke volumes in the silence. It was a heartfelt nod, a willing step back. Tony decided to trust the mild-mannered doctor. He'd abided his request of not telling the rest of the team; there was no point in raising doubt if he could get a grip. That was his reasoning, at least. But the extra time it took to revert to normal didn't exactly go unnoticed, nor did his fatigue. No one thought it their business to investigate, though the Asgardian had tried in his own Thor-ish way to get Bruce to open up, small-talk, jesting and all. It didn't work.
Now, it was just him in the seclusion of his outpost lab, struggling with his other half.
Hands flat atop the counter, he breathed through his strain. Green both danced and drained from his skin, a verdant tinge persistent in the veins on his neck and temples. Eyes shut tight, he gathered his composure the best he could. He couldn't do this here. He was better than that. He was stronger than this. Sheer willpower crushed the outrageous strength daring to erupt from his frame. Eventually, it all went quiet, and he went lax against the aluminum-topped structure. Crisis evaded, for now. A shaky sigh escaped him.
What caused this? Well, he wasn't sure himself. Unsolicited anxiety and panic rushed him in the middle of his work… just the catalyst for the Other Guy to make an untimely appearance. Bruce lifted his head just enough to stare at the wall ahead. Did… Did he …?
"Why are you doing this." He droned tonelessly to the empty space, removing the spectacles already loose on his face. "I thought this was good for us both…" Brown eyes flitted over a toppled projection device, a blue image now displayed up on the ceiling. A small, brownish-red stone held up by mechanical forceps remained untouched, and that was good. The nearby laptop was also unscathed, though teetering on the counter's edge. He quickly saved it.
Perhaps the physicist had done this to himself.
This difficulty had only arisen in the recent months, progressively worsening with each Hulk-out. He chose that. And that was the mistake. In the past, he'd often wondered if the roles could ever be reversed. Could Hulk take the reins, leaving Bruce to be a mere occurrence? It seemed he'd given him that power in the recent years. Whereas he fought him before, he actively called upon his strength now. It was small wonder the behemoth was beginning to take hold.
After some minutes Bruce cleaned up the clutter of his works, calling it quits for the day. Fury wouldn't be getting his Special Defense just yet. He had a lot to think about.
…
Knock, knock.
The noise was strong, unhesitant.
And just as unwanted.
"I don't know that much about you, Fury," started Banner, back facing the entrance. He sat in a swivel chair, gently oscillating side to side.
"But I'm sure you know the difference between sleeping quarters and conference rooms." It was the next day, and Bruce had retired to the upper levels of the building. He hadn't expect the Director to show up so soon.
"Well, you'd be right. As it turns out, however, we need strength and tact to keep up with all these crazies comin' up out of the woodworks."
Fury had entrusted him, Tony, and a few others with a special project only brilliant minds could complete: Special Defense. A strange, reddish material had been mined from the rural Chihuahuan Desert, and it was promising. Resilient to the elements, transcending the conventional laws of physics, and emitting powerful though innocuous radiation unlike anything of this world, it was a power to be harnessed. Done right, Special Defense could help transport necessary parties anywhere in the world, thus extending their reach. There was also speculation that with enough material, it could shield the planet from any otherworldly harm. In some senses, it was a downgraded, though still valuable version of the Tesseract. It was what Bruce had been studying the day before.
"I need a sum-up of your recent findings, Doctor."
Sigh.
"I've already forwarded my progress to you, albeit… halted. Now please," Bruce's shoulders tensed slightly, "it'd be smart to leave me be."
Fury's eye narrowed, caution at the ready. "And why's that?"
His answer was an amused exhale. Was that really a question anyone needed to ask anymore? The doctor finally turned around. Leg crossed over the other, he appeared calm and collected. But there was an aura about him, something… chilling. A small stress ball was victim to his grip, and he tossed it up into the air. Fury took one step back, unsure how to respond to the slight drop in his stomach. "You've often mentioned that… certain members of the team can be selfish…" There was a thoughtful pause. "Would you've guessed I'm selfish, too?"
"Never been a fan of riddles, Banner. Do I or do I not need to evacuate the premises?"
"I'd say not." It was Tony. He pushed into the room, sunglasses folded over the collar of his shirt. "At least, not until I have a word with him." Nick was about to protest, but then he remembered. Tony never feared him, not even in the beginning. Whatever this was… perhaps he could put out this fire before it ever started.
"First of all," Tony slowly advanced, hands in his pockets. "Why stay here, like this?"
Bruce shrugged a shoulder, tossing the ball up once more. "The facility's based relatively far from any major cities and communities. That, and I'm 99% sure there's a containment protocol in place… Right?" He looked accusingly at the Director, who said nothing. "It's alright. You can't completely trust a monster, after all."
"Bruce…" Tony gave a slight frown, not one of pity but hardened understanding. His hands lifted out of his pockets, now limp at his sides. He glanced back at Fury, and the Director silently departed, hoping for the best.
"Since last night, I've been seeing… visions. Things I know the Hulk has seen. Like our memories are… blending. I feel as though they're about to swallow me whole."
"So let them." Bruce looked up to see a face that was almost apathetic, cold. "Thus concludes Doctor David Bruce Banner. No muss, no fuss. Yeah?"
"…What are y—"
"—Nope. My turn to talk. You said you'd handle this, and I chose to believe you. I believed you and yet I fly here to find you resigning to some new ground rules set by the Big Guy. Tell me something: Who came first?"
Bruce stood, eye to eye with the engineer. His brown eyes were no longer such. "You don't know me. Not as much as you think."
Tony stared into green. "Oh, I know you. I don't think you know me." He was sick of seeing Bruce caught in his own trap, sick to the point of ire. This had been a growing issue, one he hadn't addressed, mainly out of hope that it would solve itself. But that clearly wasn't happening. If Hulk truly was looking to take over, he wanted to get through to him whatever way he could, use his sharp tongue as a weapon. And maybe, in the process, the doctor would snap out of it. Tony needed to see that determined spark in Banner's eyes. He wasn't sure why. "You think you're gonna get the response you want—forget it. I'm not some milquetoast you can scare off with a snarl." The stress ball dropped to the ground.
Doctor Banner shut his eyes, cracking his neck. Green dared to show on his collarbone, and he spoke a volume just above a whisper. "You and your enormous ego aren't Hulk-proof. Now get out."
"Y'know, I would, but that just wouldn't be me. Like I said before, you have friends, idiot. Even when you lose control."
But how did Tony know that? Of course, he was all too inclined to believe he had the full story. Ohh, he just had Banner pegged. He knew all the ins and outs, thorns and roses of him. Except he didn't. Banner was good at keeping things to himself, very good, in fact. So how, then, could Stark so confidently say he'd stand behind a dazed, confused mess such as himself? What did he know that Banner didn't?
Tony looked at Bruce, and Bruce looked away. He decided the gloves were coming off. "I know you're pissed. But you know what pisses me off about you? You don't give a damn about yourself. Not really. You smile and beguile, but I know you're just itching for an escape route. And you wanna hear what's super insulting? These months roll by, you tell us nothing, and expect us all to just drop you like a dirty penny. Not how it works. I just wanna know… Why?" The dark-haired billionaire paced back and forth, glaring at the other all the while. "Why put up a years-long fight only to drop from the race?"
"Quiet..."
"We've all got demons. Why give into yours? And why not sooner, huh?"
"I said be quiet."
"Up until this point you've clearly had some principle to uphold. So what changed? Where's that real strength? …Or can the doctor not answer right n—HNG!"
The air was knocked out of Tony as he hit the far wall. Like a ragdoll, he crumbled to the floor and watched through dizzied eyes as Bruce advanced. But he wasn't Bruce anymore. Clothes tore. A body grew. Malice propelled.
Stark rose to his feet and ran before Hulk could land a blow. He could hear the crumbling of the walls as the rage monster forced his way through the narrow corridor. Miscellaneous workers all evaded their path, and an evacuation was quickly announced on the loud speaker. Pulling up his sleeve, he spoke into his watch. "Jarv, I'm gonna need some assistance!"
"At once."
Though moments felt like minutes, facets of his suit soon jetted toward him, assembling and securing themselves around his winded frame. Adrenaline rushing through his system, Iron Man flew into a somersault, now behind the danger. The suit's system quickly calculated weak points, and missiles were locked in. A direct hit to the back of the legs and head. The assailant stumbled forward, grunting in surprised pain. "Right here, Mean Green." Whirling around, the Hulk grabbed onto Iron Man's leg and the propellant mods worked on maximum burn. Rubble littered the facility floor as they both crashed through the ceiling; no one needed to be caught in this crossfire.
"GodDAMN it, Stark!" Nick glared through the ruin, fists balled tight. "You better know what you're doin'…"
The skies were blue, clear as a monk's mind. This SHIELD building was based at a remote desert, and its serenity created a stark contrast to the current contention. Local fauna swayed in the dry winds, silent spectators to the spat.
Hulk's grip was unforgettable. Stark could feel the metal closing around his calf, the pain seeping in. Once out of the building's range, he opened his hand and let the behemoth receive a faceful of pure energy. Singed, he had no choice but the let go, releasing a pained roar as he descended. Dust was kicked up by the fall, reverberation stretching wide. But as the air cleared, the metal-clad fighter knew all he did was make him angrier. He faltered in the air, and that's when he realized the mechanics in his leg had been damaged. It sputtered and sparked, and he quickly touched down.
"It doesn't have to be this way." The Hulk wiped furiously at his eyes, green skin marked with soot. Once his vision was clear, the only one in his sights was Iron Man. A sickened grimace settled on his face. "…Or maybe it does."
Hulk charged him, pushing him into a furrow in the dry desert ground. His strength was overwhelming, and the metal that protected the man also rattled him. Shaken, he called upon Jarvis to fire the projectiles as soon as there was an opening.
They halted in the dirt. Hulk raised his fists high and received two missiles to the stomach. Virtually ineffective.
Iron Man rolled out of the hole, preparing a game plan when a fist slammed against his side. Hard. "AAAGH!" The red metal caved almost willingly, and excruciating pain shot through his ribs. He wheezed in shock, and he hunched forward. The suit still had him covered, however. Mini turrets emerged from the shoulders and arms, providing a barrage of fire to keep the Big Guy back some. They pelted him for a time, and the engineer did his best to create some distance.
Caught in such blind rage, Hulk had no empathy or regret or remembrance. He was slave to what he did best, and all he knew was Iron Man did something to Bruce, which meant he did something to him. He didn't like being pushed around… not even as his milder other half.
The ammo wasn't limitless, and eventually stopped coming. It was no longer a matter of fight or flight. Tony just had to get out of there. The shutters opened on the suit in preparation for flight, but it was short-lived. Just as he lifted off, Hulk grabbed his thigh with a grip more incredible and more damaging than the last. The armor didn't stand a chance, and it crunched like soft plastic under his titanium grasp. Tony let out another, agonized scream, bone and ligaments crushed with merciless immediacy. He could feel the grisly displacement beneath the flesh. Fire and knives danced inside him, and he genuinely wondered if Hulk was going to kill him. Before he could even fathom the pain he was in, his head met hard with the monster's in a headbutt, and he fell back, incapacitated.
His faceplate lifted, blood oozing from his swelling nose and busted lip. "B-Bruce... Bruce…" He whispered. With a shaky hand he reached up, pleadingly. The Hulk faltered, and small realization twinkled in his eye. Tony's metal-clad hand fell limp to the ground… and there was silence.
"That's enough. I think you've made your point."
PING.
PING.
PING.
PING.
Hulk stared confusedly at the metal cuffs secured around his wrists and ankles, grunting.
Fury came into view, fiery and stoic at once. The behemoth seethed, then quickly approached. Saying nothing, the Director raised his fist above his head. There was a brief pause… then he opened his hand. With lighting speed, four, silver spheres rushed from the building, hovering near their cousin clasps. Suddenly, Hulk couldn't move. The spheres hummed loudly as they took their places, two hovering above his head, and the other two on the ground. Hulk's hands were yanked upward, clasps attracted to them. "Try anything. The field will match your strength every time."
"RAAAAH!"
"Now, you're going to calm down. Look at what you did to Stark. Your teammate." He gestured, and the wide-eyed rage monster stared at the still figure just feet away. "You tore down someone you were supposed to fight alongside with, protect. Our best medics are going to try and fix what you did. And you'd better hope he lives."
Today
Tony watched over the unconscious doctor a few minutes more, unknowingly rubbing the side of his head. There was a scar there, hidden beneath the hair. The fracture was fairly quick to heal, and the least painful. He never really paid much attention to his cicatrices, unless he happened to be in front of a mirror. They were just… part of him now, for better or worse. It wasn't pretty, but then, neither was he.
Man is often more fragile than his reflection, his father used to say. Can you look yourself in the eye, well aware of who you are, and not shatter?
In the Stark family, few things were more important than pride. The public eye would always be hungry, and with the mantle passed to him, he hadn't a choice but to carry that pride. It was ingrained in him, his father's memory. His mother… she was his heart, a voice above voices. The love and wisdom she imparted weathered his jagged edges, protected him as he was forced so soon to live without his parents. And so, his scars… They were worn with poise. They were smiled upon. It had to be that way.
Bruce shifted on the berth, muttering quietly. He was stable, and all was well. It was time to go. Turning on heel, he headed for the exit. He really didn't want to get his head chewed off by Fury, but better now than later.
…
"I hope you know that you and only you will be dealing with the press. What the hell were you thinking?" Nick had been waiting for Tony at the jet runway, the tails of his trench coat fluttering as the winds picked up. Winter was approaching once more.
"I was thinking we needed him back."
"We ALL thought that, Stark. I meant what were you thinking not telling anyone you found him?" The way he left, there was no telling how dangerous he'd be if he returned. After what happened, Tony was crazy not to inform him who was sitting right under everyone's noses. "Do you not recall that he almost—"
"—I remember." The billionaire drew nearer, brace clicking. He didn't look at him, however, eyes set on the horizon of a setting sun. "I was stupid. I wanted to be the one to bring him in, better than he was before."
Fury gave him a peculiar look. "…Why? Don't you feel even an inkling of caution, or… resentment?"
Tony shrugged. "One thing you don't know is I was asking for it. I was in a bad headspace that day, and I essentially goaded him into it. I think it was… a test to me." He pinched the bridge of his nose and shut his dark eyes, a habit picked up from the doctor. "I need to see the people around me thriving. Hell if it's my place to oversee it, but I do anyway. I feed off of that, because if I can have a hand in fixing someone or something, then maybe…" His brow twitched as he went silent, and his gaze was almost wistful in the open air. "…I was stupid."
He expected everyone to brush over it as fast as he would… even Pepper. He especially wanted her to be sure that all was well and copacetic, going so far as to force them in each other's company. But she wasn't the type of person to forget. Deep down, she could never truly forgive Bruce for what he did—or what Tony had him do. And now, that resentment had only grown. No one thought like Tony. He was the man that shattered before his reflection, yet still appeared kept together.
So his life was worth a test. To what ends, Fury had an idea, but such sensitive subjects weren't his area of expertise.
He cleared his throat. "…What's done is done, I suppose. But Doctor Banner will be staying put for a while. We need to evaluate some things."
"I get it." Said Tony. He buttoned his jacket and stuffed his hands into his wool-laced pockets. "I got some stuff of my own to sort out in the meantime."
"Hm. The rest of the team's gonna be pretty pissed at you."
Tony managed a smirk. "When aren't they?" He limped to his aircraft, giving a final glance of acknowledgement to the seasoned Director. Fury nodded, watching as he boarded.
Within moments, he took to the skies.