All he wanted was sleep.
The sun filtering through his curtains told him he was sleeping too much, and the persistent buzzing from his phone warned him that someone was concerned for him. Whether or not they were genuinely concerned would forever remain a mystery. He assumed Natasha was his relentless caller, but Bruce didn't care. His bed was the only safe haven. Bruce lay on his side as his arm stretched across the vacant half of the bed. The cold loneliness of the sheets only reminded him of Natasha's betrayal. He knew she was a spy, he knew just how manipulating she could be, but he fell right into her trap.
How much of his time with her was an act?
How long was she playing him for a fool?
The worst part was that he felt no anger towards her. Call it his innate goodness towards a fellow neighbor, but it felt more like the other guy wanted him to suffer in a silent sadness. His phone continued to vibrate against his nightstand, so he grabbed the device in preparation to silence it completely. He'd missed three calls from Tony, one from Fury, and sixteen from Natasha. Accompanying the missed calls was a message from Tony: "Feel like dropping by?" and one from Natasha: "Can we talk?"
Bruce forced his phone's screen to fade to black. He slammed the phone back on his nightstand and rolled onto his back. The bland ceiling had nothing to offer, yet Bruce continued to stare, too tired to do anything more. He soon fell back asleep, but his empty dreams were interrupted by a knocking at the door. Bruce rubbed his hands down his face and groaned. A gut feeling was telling him it was Natasha. There was another knock, a pause, then the ringing of the doorbell. He held his breath, counted to four, and the cycle repeated. For the sake of keeping the Hulk at bay, he left his bed, knees cracking as he headed for the door. He didn't even care that he was dressed in baggy pajama bottoms and an aged Desert State University shirt.
"Can we talk?" Natasha asked the second she saw Bruce's face through a crack in the door.
"No." He shook his head. "I'd appreciate it if you left me alone… Please," he groggily requested.
"We both know this isn't good for you, Bruce," she gravely warned.
"I'm sorry," he snidely droned. "Are you genuinely concerned for me, Ms. Romanoff?"
"You know I care, Bruce."
"You cared enough to mention that the man trying to kill me is after me? Where was that warning, Natasha?" he accused.
She narrowed her eyes. "We both know what happens when you get angry."
"You're doing an excellent job at that right now…" That shut her up quicker than expected.
Natasha could only gain his trust with the truth, but the truth would only pour salt into the wound. Still, she needed his trust. S.H.I.E.L.D. needed his trust. "I told you before that the Hulk would be my mission. Fury assigned me to you, just as anticipated."
Bruce was on the verge of slamming the door in her face. His overpowering fragile half was in no place to hear the truth, yet his hand refused to shut the door in the spy's face.
"We're working to get the other guy on our side," she began. "Fury wants to purposely set you off once I feel that you can gain control."
"How?" he prodded. "How did he plan to set me off?"
He couldn't be pushed any farther, but she needed to tell him the truth and hope that he'd show mercy. "Stark was going to provoke you."
"Stark?" he parroted. "And what about you?" he pressed. "Did you intend to keep lying to my face?" His voiced sounded strained with pain rather than anger. Natasha's silence spoke volumes. "Leave," Bruce callously ordered.
Natasha didn't budge. "You can't run from this, Bruce." The door shut in her face, but that wasn't going to drive her away. "We want to help you cope with this."
By lying… He couldn't stay in the city any longer. Betty's father chasing him down was one thing, but having the people he began to trust betray him was the tipping point. Natasha mentioned that Nick Fury would find him regardless, and the General was sure to have his ways. There was no hiding, and he lacked a single friend whom he could rely on. His only foreseeable option was to constantly keep moving. That was likely to add heaps of unnecessary stress, but it was better than having to look a deceitful agent like Natasha in the eyes ever again. Bruce walked away from the door to eject a CD from his laptop. He had no use for the disk which he carelessly carried with him to the door.
Natasha felt relieved to hear the door click open.
Bruce didn't mutter a word as he tossed his mix CD through a crack in the door.
The disk landed face up and Natasha found her handwriting staring back at her. She knelt down to grab the CD as the door was once again shut. Natasha wasn't about to reason with him, so she chose to leave, but not without sinking another knife into the doctor's back. "You tried to kill me, and you don't see me running away," she retorted, eyes glued on the door. "I acted on my own to try and help you. What would Betty think of the thanks you're giving me?" Natasha finally turned away to make her leave. Her boss was going to have to settle for one less man on the team.
He grabbed the first bag he could find and began stuffing it with clean clothes. As he reached for the phone charger on his nightstand, a slip of paper tucked beneath his glasses case caught his attention. Bruce set the charger aside to reach for the folded letter, the one Natasha had sent to him while he was abroad.
Promise me you'll hang in there, big guy.
Bruce's gut was telling him to trust the truth in her written words, but his brain was warning him that her letter could've been another well-strung lie. He wondered if Steve and Clint were also in on Fury's game. Natasha only mentioned Tony, but with Fury pulling the strings, the whole team was most likely in the loop. He folded the letter along the crease and set it back down before focusing on packing.
"What would Betty think of the thanks you're giving me?"
Natasha's tasteless jab left him haunted. Betty wouldn't approve of his distancing behavior. She would want him to find happiness with friends, not sulk alone. She also wouldn't want her father interfering in his life. Siding with the Avengers was looking to be his most favorable, Betty-approved option. He assumed Natasha had already left the building, but after tossing out the CD she made him, he wasn't ready to face her. Instead, he went for his phone to call Tony.
"Finally awake?" Tony asked upon picking up. "You weren't up sewing, were you?"
Bruce wondered how real Tony was being with him at this moment. He suddenly didn't know what to say, let alone why he bothered calling.
"How about we do lunch?" Tony suggested. "Or brunch if that's what you're into. Personally, I'm not a fan of 'brunch.'"
"Natasha told me everything, Tony," Bruce interrupted. There was a brief pause on Tony's end.
"You're not the green monster right now, are you?" he questioned.
Bruce shook his head, "No, Tony."
"For the record, it was Fury's idea," Tony swore.
"I figured."
"Fury originally wanted you for the Tesseract mess, but seeing you in action gave him bigger ideas," Tony continued. "But even if he didn't want you for the team, I'd have hired you for Stark Industries."
Bruce could believe that. "You'd still be curious to know what makes me tick."
"Who isn't?" Tony admitted. "Think about it, Banner, you overcome Hulk, and you'll be free to swing around any rogue gods and monsters that come our way."
"Without worrying about hurting anyone innocent," he quietly finished.
"Seems like a damn good solution," Tony replied. "Unless you wanna find a cure."
Bruce refused to let Tony waste any of his precious time on a seemingly hopeless antidote. He recalled the children's drawings of the Hulk and the graffiti he had seen. Natasha mentioned people seeing them as heroes. Bruce wondered if that was really what he wanted to be. He had grown so used to playing doctor for the less fortunate and despite it not being his field of study, he found an inner satisfaction in helping others. Perhaps science wasn't his true calling. Bruce didn't consider himself a religious man, but he believed in having a purpose. Suppose his was being a hero. A big, angry, green hero… "Thank you, Tony. I have to go… but thank you," he repeated before ending the call. After a shower and straightening himself up, he double-checked Natasha's address in his phone before venturing out for a walk.
Natasha settled for a hot shower upon stepping into her apartment. Breaking the news to her boss could wait until later. The near scalding water was a welcome sensation against her clammy skin. She reached for her floral body wash and let the calming lavender soothe her as she massaged the soap into her skin. Natasha would've gladly spent another half hour in the shower, but the ring of her doorbell cut that idea short. She assumed it was a neighbor with mis-delivered mail or a Girl Scout, so she ignored it and let the pelting water shower all the suds away. As she went to work on washing her hair, the doorbell rang again, and she swore a knock followed. Natasha shut the water off and wrung the soapy water from her hair before grabbing a towel. "Coming!" she shouted. If it was a Girl Scout, she swore to never buy cookies from them ever again. She snatched her robe off a hangar and double knotted it around her waist. There was another knock that forced her to grit her teeth. Natasha stood up on her tiptoes to peek through the door's peep-hole. Bruce was the very last person she expected to see as she cracked open the door.
He adjusted his glasses, looking as dejected as ever, as his eyes rested on the tiniest fraction of the assassin's face. "I'm really sorry, Natasha…"
She brushed her damp curls behind her ear and stepped back to allow Bruce inside.
He took one quick glance at the robe before returning his gaze to her face. "I came at a bad time…"
"Forget it." She kept to the side and waited until he stepped into her home. "I'm eager to hear what you've gotta say."
Bruce rubbed his palms together with his back facing Natasha. "You deserve an apology."
She wandered over to the couch and smoothed her plush bathrobe over her thighs as she sat.
"I didn't mean to direct my anger at you. Between Ross, and you…" He took a step towards the couch, eyes focused on her face. "I've felt so stressed…"
Natasha pat the cushion beside her, but the doctor shook his head. "It was hard lying to you, Bruce," she gently coaxed. "Lying comes easy to me, but you're a good guy. Too good." The corner of her lip raised in the slightest smile. "Nick was never after the Hulk. He wanted Bruce Banner, gamma expert. But now he wants you as a package deal."
Bruce's gaze lowered to the carpeted floor. "Tony said the same thing."
"We're only trying to help, Bruce," she promised. "You can fight the other guy. I know you have it in you to do it."
He managed a sheepish grin and allowed himself to inch closer towards her. "I only wish that lies didn't have to be a part of it."
Natasha pursed her lips. "I can work on that."
Bruce took a seat beside her, fiddling with his hands.
"No more lies…"
His fingers froze when her small hand reached out to cover his.
"Truce?" Natasha wagered.
He turned to her and nodded. "Truce," he smiled.
"You just saved me a painful phone call with my boss." She raised her hand and gave Bruce a pat on the cheek. "Thank you."
He began to laugh, but a sudden thought forced the laughter to subside. "Also, if you don't mind… You didn't throw that CD away, did you?"
Natasha raised a brow. "You didn't burn it to your computer?"
He ran a hand through his hair. "I did, but…That was a gift. And I like the message you left me. 'Keep breathing.'"
Natasha rose from the couch and padded over to her kitchen counter. "You're too good a guy, Banner." She wandered back to the couch and passed him the CD.
"I'd call it a bad habit of hoarding mementos," he chuckled. "I've been holding onto this one newspaper article Betty was in." He stared down at the disk with a small smile.
Natasha felt relieved to see him smiling while mentioning Betty. "I try to avoid holding onto things," she shrugged. "But there's nothing wrong with doing it. To each their own."
"I'll keep this one safe," Bruce promised.
"You can still come to me if you need me, you know," Natasha reminded. "Wherever, whenever…" She wound her robe's belt around her finger. "I'll listen. As a friend."
He nodded, eyes intently boring into hers. "I could use a friend. An honest friend."
"I'll be just what you want me to be, big guy," she vowed, absently tugging at her plush belt.
Bruce's eyes unexpectedly lowered as he found himself distracted by the belt encircling her finger.
Her finger paused when she caught him staring. "Bruce."
He jerked his head towards the door. "I'll go-I should go!" he stammered. "Sorry."
Natasha rolled her eyes. "Never change, Bruce."
He briefly glanced at her to flash her a sheepish smile. "We should have dinner again," he suggested.
"Just us?" she hummed. "I'd like that. It'll be my turn to cook."
"Then I'll buy dessert."
Natasha cocked her head to the side. "Friday night sound good?"
He rose to his feet with a nod. "I should be available."
"It's a date, then."