"Kinda in the mood for fondue tonight," Tony mused as he relaxed in the seat of his private jet. "Maybe tacos. Banner, verdict?" He eyed his partner sitting directly across from him, but Bruce's gaze was glued to the clouds outside. "Banner?"
He snapped to attention when he heard his name. "I, uh…"
"Dinner," Tony repeated.
"I'm… not feeling all that hungry at the moment." Bruce lowered his eyes and fiddled with his hands.
"You've got this," Tony promised. "Just get angry, go toe-to-toe with the suit, and I'll blast that music for you when I'm ready to stop."
The idea of becoming Hulk made his stomach churn. "Be sure to run analytics. I'd like to start working on a sedative until the other guy acquires a taste for music."
Tony snapped his fingers. "Animal tranquilizers! We'll get our hands on some for next time."
Next time... The notion of doing this again wasn't sitting well with him. To Tony, this was a game, but to Bruce, this was torture. "You swear to back off once the suit begins to malfunction?" He watched Tony from over the rims of his glasses.
"Are you doubting my handiwork?"
Tony was giving him all the more reason to worry. "You have my music downloaded?" Bruce wondered.
"You saw me do it," Tony reminded his partner.
"Right," he nodded. "Sorry, sorry." Bruce recalled his kiss with Natasha, a reminder that his mind had gone astray after last night's second drink.
The jet landed and Tony eagerly grabbed the case containing his latest suit of armor. "You need a kick start for the rage, or are you good?"
Bruce shook his head. The pounding in his chest accompanied by his churning stomach felt like enough to set him off any second. "I'll be fine… Suit up, I guess…" He waited for Tony to leave before a trembling hand pulled his phone out of his side pocket. Bruce told himself that calling her was likely to annoy her, but he wanted to hear her comforting voice. He forced himself to set the phone aside as he changed into a baggy pair of sweatpants. His deep breathing exercises kicked in as he left the jet to find himself surrounded by tropical trees and sand. His hand covered his eyes as a beam of sunlight bounced off of something straight ahead. "Tony?"
The latest addition to the Iron Man family stood at eight feet tall and bore the infamous hot rod red and brilliant gold colours that Tony was fond of. "Waiting on you," his synthesized voice answered.
Bruce was far from ready, but Tony seemed confident in his suit. This will benefit you in the long run, Banner, he told himself. He closed his eyes and recalled Ross confronting him at his apartment.
He blamed him for Betty's death.
He saw him as a monster.
He was the real monster, a monster who should've shown his daughter some mercy when it came to who she loved.
He was the reason Bruce felt insecure no matter how far he ran. There was no hiding from him, even when Bruce finally thought he was at peace…
Bruce was his toy.
And now he was Tony's toy.
And S.H.I.E.L.D.'s special weapon…
The Hulk roared as he charged directly at the bright red suit like a bull to a matador.
"Oh, boy…" Tony took off, flying close to the ground as the Hulk ran dangerously close.
The beast bounded forward, sprinting on all fours as he neared the flames shooting from Tony's boots.
"Sir," JARVIS advised.
"I know," Tony drawled. He made an abrupt turn towards the sky, only to be flung backwards into the dirt. His monitor blacked out for a split second, but once the picture came to, the Hulk was preparing to grab onto his helmet. Acting fast, Tony launched a blast right in his face before soaring into the trees.
The burning light distracted Hulk long enough for Tony to make a break for it. He shook his head and gritted his teeth before he spotted a taunting bright red.
"Want some more?" Tony challenged, hovering yards away from the beast.
Bruce's alter ego snarled and charged at the suit.
Tony let him pummel him into the dirt for the sake of testing his creation's durability. Aside from quick breaks of static coming from his monitor, the suit handled the punches well. "Looks like we need the display to hold up to this impact…"
The Hulk grabbed an iron ankle and swung, smacking Tony face first into the sand.
"Shit!" Tony hissed as his display blacked out. "Jarv-" Another toss evoked another stream of curses.
Hulk unleashed a deafening roar before leaping into the air and landing directly on the suit's spine.
The back-up power source kicked in just in time to for JARVIS to warn his master. "May I suggest rolling to your left?"
Tony felt a pressure lift from his backside and did as instructed. He then noticed a flashing warning sign in the top left corner of his monitor. The rockets in his boots were damaged, as were the ones in his back. "Get that music going, Jarv!" Tony ordered.
"Speakers are fully functional and ready."
Tony fired a blast from his palm to distract Hulk while he took off into a group of trees. The music began to blare, but that wasn't enough to control the Hulk. "Directions to the jet!" Tony barked. An arrow directed him to his left. His suit's speed kicked in, but Tony knew he'd barely outrun the giant. "Start the jet up, please!" he shouted, hearing Hulk close on his heels as a tree behind him came crashing down.
"I have already started the engine," JARVIS answered.
"Thank y-" A pained roar brought Tony to a halt. He turned his head to find the Hulk running in the opposite direction. Tony frowned until his magnification zoomed in on a hint of red in the trees. "Romanoff," he groaned.
Natasha fired a Widow's Sting directly at the Hulk's eye. He staggered back and crashed into a tree that toppled over, sending him down with it. "Just listen to the music, Banner," she breathed. Natasha swore the music was getting louder, most likely Stark's doing. "C'mon, big guy!" she shouted as he got up. A hook launched from her bracelet latched onto the next closest tree branch. Natasha gracefully swung over to the sturdy branch and caught the Hulk following her in her peripheral vision. "Listen harder, Bruce!" she yelled, swinging over to another tree. "Don't you like Tchaikovsky, big guy?" she teased, towering over him at the top of a tree. She was answered with a growl as his muscular arms hugged the tree trunk. Natasha took off to the next tree and spotted her jet close by. "How about that deep breathing?"
The music was drowned out by the roar of a jet's engine soaring overhead. "Head's up, Romanoff," Tony's voice echoed from a speaker system.
Hulk scowled and leapt towards the sky, but his hands were just shy of grabbing the plane.
Natasha hopped into her jet and started the engine. She soon had lift off and hovered above Stark's ride, curious to see what he had in store for their big green friend.
Tony punched a code into the aircraft's computer and waited for the system to lock onto the Hulk. "Readying missile," he hummed.
The beast sneered as the underside of the jet opened up.
"Firing now." His finger punched a button and he watched as the Hulk braced himself. "Good luck catching this one, buddy."
The missile fired directly into the Hulk's chest, forcing him to howl in pain as he was propelled backwards. An explosion followed that tossed like a bag of rocks.
Natasha quickly activated her headset as a cloud of smoke formed. "Stark-any readings?"
"Vitals stabilized. He's back to our Banner," Tony assured. "You want me to take off so you two can…do your thing?"
Natasha was already steering her aircraft up and away from the island. "You take him."
Bruce rubbed the dirt from his stinging eyes as the fog clouding his mind lifted. A Tchaikovsky piece was humming in the back of his mind, but the music soon faded away. He rapidly blinked, allowing his eyes to tear up and get the nagging dirt out.
"Head's up!" Tony shouted, tossing a ball of fabric at his partner.
Bruce glanced up in time to catch his rolled up pants and underwear. "Thanks," he muttered.
"The music failed," Tony mentioned. He folded his arms across his chest and observed the shrapnel left from the exploded missile.
"I… I think it worked," Bruce replied as he pulled up his pants. "A little…" He knew it was no coincidence that he was hearing a symphony in his head. "I didn't… hurt you, did I?" He approached Tony, scanning his body to find no obvious scratches or bruises. "How's the suit?"
"Suit's a little roughed up. No biggie," Tony assured. "I'll have her patched up in no time."
"That's…" Bruce heaved a sigh of relief. "Good."
Tony curiously eyed his friend as they entered the carrier. "How much do you remember?"
Bruce hurried to his seat and grabbed his shirt. "Not much," he admitted.
Tony set their ride to autopilot before taking a seat across from Bruce.
"Did something happen?" he wondered, buttoning up his top.
Tony shrugged and relaxed in his chair. "Just curious. Wondering if you were seeing red…"
Bruce nodded. "Obviously, the su-"
"Aside from the suit…" Tony arched a brow.
Bruce reached for his glasses and sat. "Red… Was I bleeding?"
"Never mind," Tony promised.
That wasn't going to stop Bruce from over thinking what happened while he wasn't in his right mind. Red… He could hardly keep his eyes open as he blankly stared out the window. Red… The need for sleep quickly overtook him, and that's when his mind began to wander. In his thoughts, the rustling of tree branches were met with a blur of red orange and black breezing past… "Natasha." His eyes flew open as Tony met his stare. "Was…" Bruce paused, praying that this was his mind playing tricks on him.
Tony gave a slight nod.
Bruce felt his chest constrict. She followed him... He recalled his dream and let the worst possible scenarios float to the surface. "I hurt her?..."
"No!" Tony quickly confirmed. "Romanoff had it all under control."
He audibly exhaled and ran a hand down his face. Leave it to Natasha to go against his orders. He straightened in his seat and curiously eyed his partner. "She followed us? Is she-is she on board?" He did a quick double take behind him but found no one in the pilot's seat.
"She called me," Tony honestly answered. "Said she knew about what we had going on."
"And you told her?"
"Seemed urgent," he shrugged.
Bruce's brows knitted together as he leaned forward. "Probably doing Fury's dirty work," he bitterly assumed, fiddling with his fingers.
As much fun as having drama around was, Tony couldn't sit back and watch ill assumptions burden his partner. "She seemed concerned. She was pretty adamant about me having your music. And telling you to breathe."
Bruce brought his head close to his lap and ran his hands through his hair. He really did want to trust Natasha, but having her go against his word made him question her motives.
"You've got her looking out for you," Tony continued. "I even offered to let you two head home together, but no go."
"Was she hurt?"
"She pry thinks you're pissed," Tony acknowledged.
Bruce turned his head to stare out the window. "Her running away from this isn't helping…"
Tony frowned and reached for his phone. "Then tell her off. Put her in her place."
The way Tony phrased it made it feel like rudeness was necessary. Bruce didn't want to come off as mean-he was already that guy once today, and it left him exhausted. He closed his eyes and told himself that his fatigue was talking. Come tomorrow, he'd be having a calm dinner with Natasha and hopefully learning why she'd willingly throw herself into the ring of fire. He knew she craved excitement, but the Hulk was a threat to her. She needed to realize that now before it was too late. Bruce thought about calling her once he arrived home, but between his Hulk-out and the drowsiness lingering from his nap on the plane, rest came first.
He ended up sleeping through the entire afternoon. The sky outside his window was now a bright orange as the sun stayed hidden behind a distant skyscraper. He sat up in bed, admiring the final light of day until his stomach grumbled in protest. Bruce decided it was time to leave his bed and throw something together for dinner with what little he had in his fridge. He tried calling Natasha after dinner when his mood felt cheerier.
"Bruce," she acknowledged.
"Natasha." He fished through an open box of kitchen supplies while he spoke. "Natasha…" He suddenly didn't know where to begin.
She lightly laughed. "Bruce…"
He took a deep breath and rested his free palm against the countertop. "I told you I didn't want you there." Her end of the line fell eerily quiet. "I remember seeing you. And… Tony confirmed it for me."
Natasha shrugged. "I wanted to see for myself."
"I could've killed you."
"Bruce."
"I really could've killed you," he repeated in a heavier tone.
"But you didn't."
"But I could." He breathed in for four seconds before releasing.
Natasha knew their conversation had taken a turn for the worse. "I'm sorry." She continued to hear Bruce's timed breaths. "Let's focus on what you didn't do today."
"I didn't kill you," he harshly replied. "That makes me feel much better, Natasha, thank you."
"You know I didn't mean it like that," she warned.
Bruce shook his head and grabbed a handful of silverware from a box. "Next time this needs to happen, swear to me you won't follow."
"I only want to help you."
"I know." The forks and spoons made a grating sound as they hit the countertop. "But I don't want you anywhere near the other guy."
"Your dream has you that worked up?" she wondered.
"It's not about the dream." He reached for a steel pan's plastic handle.
"I took care of myself today, I'll take care of myself the next time," she mused.
"Natasha, no."
"You're gonna need to work to learn control, Bruce," she evenly advised.
He set the pan down with more force than necessary. "I'll learn without you."
"Don't do this to yourself, Bruce…"
The moment Natasha first saw his hideous green form felt fresh in his mind. Her eyes were full of terror as she was presumably seeing her life flash before her eyes.
"We're all here for you, Bruce," she calmly reassured.
"I don't want you anywhere near the monster, Natasha!" he abruptly snapped, grabbing a flap of the cardboard box and swinging it onto the floor. The silence became deafening as he stared at the mess of cookware spilled across the tile. "I'm sorry," he sulked, apologizing to both his cookware and Natasha. "Sorry..." He knelt down to begin stacking pans back into the box.
"It was my fault," she acknowledged. "I'm pushing you."
"No." Bruce stepped away from the box and began pacing around his kitchen. "No-you mean well. I'm the one lashing out."
"I should let you go," she suggested.
Bruce felt awful he pushed her into that corner. "No… I-I'm honestly not mad. It's stress." He rubbed the back of his neck.
"That's never good."
"I know," he agreed. "Just… Promise me you won't come between the other guy."
"What if someone else is in danger because of him? What if he was about to take it all out on Stark?"
Bruce was quiet as he contemplated Tony's latest suit. "Did that happen today?" Tony seemed fine and claimed his suit was fine, but Bruce never got to see up close just how "fine" his suit was.
Natasha sighed. "To be honest…" She knew he couldn't handle this, but she needed to earn his trust. "Stark was running away from the big guy-not flying. You must've damaged his rockets."
"Was I…" Bruce felt a lump form in his throat. "Was I about to… finish him?"
"No," she quickly replied. "Stark had it under control. Probably exhausted from running more than two feet," she snorted. Bruce was eerily quiet. "So. Dinner tomorrow?"
"Dinner," he repeated in a dazed voice. "Yeah. Tomorrow."
"I can always drop in earlier if you want help moving in," she offered.
Bruce spotted a box near the oven labeled "kitchen" and made that his priority to unpack next. "I can handle it," he promised. "I'll let you go," he added. "Goodnight, Natasha."
"Night, Bruce."
He set the phone aside with a heavy sigh. The desire for a cure had him itching to get straight to work, but if Tony's supercomputers couldn't calculate something, he knew nothing would. "What would you do, Betty?" he muttered to himself. She wouldn't want him to be so depressed, for one. He reached for a pair of scissors to help with cutting the tape from a box. She wanted him to be happy, but happiness was hard to come by when he had a monster threatening to kill the only remaining ones he held dear. His rough days were always a struggle to push through. They were even harder now that his voice of reason was gone. Bruce immediately regretted ending his phone call, but calling her back would feel wrong. All he would do is apologise just to hear Natasha tell him that it was "okay" and "you'll be fine." Bruce abandoned the kitchen to go in search of Tony. He needed a distraction.
The kitchen was finally feeling like home, and a brief shopping trip put the fridge and pantries to good use. Bruce made sure the living room was cleared of any boxes before starting dinner. He settled on seasoned fish and rice with mixed vegetables. As he was checking to see how the fish was cooking, JARVIS interrupted over the speaker system.
"Ms. Romanoff is nearing the door," the voice informed.
Bruce shut the oven door and checked the time. 6:32. She was early. "Thanks, Jarvis." He headed for the front door and propped it open before moving to set the table.
She knocked on the ajar door before entering. "Feels different visiting you here." Natasha smiled when she found him setting the table.
"Natasha," he grinned. "Hi." He straightened up the silverware before properly greeting her. "Glad you came to the right place."
"I was a little tempted to drop by your old building," she shrugged. "Brought cheesecake," she added, raising a plastic bag.
"You're full of surprises today, aren't you?" He forced a chuckle.
Natasha arched a brow and handed him the bag. "The bakery was less crowded than I thought. Are you mad? I swear I won't make any offers to help you unpack."
Bruce shook his head and brought their dessert over to the fridge. "Of course I'm not mad. I'm surprised," he promised with a smile.
Natasha wandered into the living room and took a seat on the leather couch. "The furnishings here are better," she commented, eyeing the ninety-inch TV fixed to the wall. "Stark's spoiling you."
Bruce genuinely laughed as he joined her, taking the armchair adjacent to her. "Watching anything on that is intimidating. It's like I've got the news happening right in my living room."
She rolled her eyes at him. "Way to age yourself thirty years, Banner."
"That's rude," he playfully warned with a wide smile.
Natasha felt satisfied in knowing he was smiling, but a thick tension lingered, making conversation difficult for her. She kept reflecting on his outburst over the phone, and how she was the one adding extra stress into his life. "How's unpacking?"
Bruce, too, was picking up on the awkwardness, but he said nothing, fearful of hurting Natasha's feelings. "I'll work on my bedroom tomorrow. Other than that, I'm pretty much moved in. As expected, I'm only making use of a fraction of the house," he chuckled.
"You can always get a cat and spoil it," she shrugged.
"I'll think about that," he promised with a nod.
"You sure you don't want help unpacking?"
"You'll be the first to know when I need assistance," Bruce reassured.
Natasha gave him a solemn expression. "Unless personal matters are involved," she stated, pointing out the elephant in the room.
"Natasha…" He hunched forward in his seat and laced his fingers together. "That's for your own safety."
"What if I put on an Iron Man suit?" she wondered.
Bruce knew she was a highly intelligent woman, but her need to be with him while at his worst was downright idiotic. "You should really end this relationship you have with danger."
Natasha paused, her eyes glued to his chocolate orbs. "I will once I know I've helped you."
"Because Fury needs you to." The remark left his lips with more disdain than intended.
She watched him, unblinking. "You could've killed me back then, Bruce," she stated. "For me, this is personal."
He broke the stare and lowered his gaze to his hands. "Revenge, then? Against the other guy…"
"That's one way to put it," she acknowledged.
"He's too dangerous."
"Unless we help him out."
"The Black Widow helps her enemies now?" he wondered.
Natasha casually shrugged as the kitchen timer went off. "The guy helped take down an alien army, not to mention putting a god in his proper place." Bruce rose from his seat and Natasha followed. "You should try working with him. Help the big guy know it's okay to be a big teddy bear."
Her grave tone told him he shouldn't laugh, but her choosing to think of the Hulk as something so child-friendly made him scornfully chuckle. "I don't see that going over very well," he commented as he took the fish out of the oven.
"We'll never know unless we try. He's gotta have a conscience-how else did he manage to attack the actual bad guys and not us?"
Bruce gave a pot of rice mixed with vegetables a final stir before preparing to plate. "That day felt different. I felt…" He turned his head to find Natasha holding the dinner plates. "I felt in control that day."
"How?"
He accepted a plate and gave it a helping of fish. "Let's just say I lost my Zen place after the battle…"
Natasha assumed Betty had everything to do with that. She handed Bruce the second plate and carried the one with food to the table. "Then I'll help you work to find a new one."
"Easier said than done." He brought his filled plate over to the table after Natasha.
"Can I be in your Zen place?" she smirked, taking a seat.
Bruce couldn't hide his chuckling. "You're already there," he reassured her, taking a seat. "We're together in a Lamaze class full of judgmental couples."
"Oh, yeah?" she prodded with interest.
He grew quiet as if having a brief out of body experience. His happy place needed to be built anew with Betty gone. Natasha was on to something hopeful. "That might not be a bad place to start, actually…"
"There we go!" she encouraged.
"I'm still against you being anywhere near me when I'm angry," he cautioned, reaching for his glass of water.
Natasha set her napkin on her lap. "I've made it into your happy place, so I'm there in spirit, right?"
"You're always finding a way to get to me, aren't you? Would you like some wine?" he offered.
"I'm fine with water." She took a bite of fish and hummed in approval. "Amazing job, Doctor."
"I'm glad you like it."
Her eyes flickered to his face as she poked at some broccoli. "Was the 'no wine' intentional?"
Bruce curiously watched her as he chewed.
"Are you afraid you'll kiss me again?" She winked and Bruce covered his mouth with a napkin and shook his head.
He managed to swallow and lowered his napkin. "I'm sorry about that."
Natasha shook her head. "It was funny. I took it as a sign you're comfortable with me."
"That's…true," he uneasily replied.
"So." Natasha observed him beneath her lashes, throwing him a seductive stare. "You are comfortable with me."
That look felt like a red flag. Bruce quickly glanced down at his plate. "You've become a good friend."
"Then you trust me?"
He poked at a piece of fish. "I'll answer that when I know you've been keeping away from the other guy." Bruce didn't mean to sound harsh, but her safety mattered to him. "And I mean that in the nicest possible way."
"I respect that," she agreed. "You'd be a fool to trust any ole damsel," she winked before returning her attention to her dinner.
Bruce watched her with a smile. "Maybe one day, I'll be that old fool." He kept to himself after that comment, allowing her to eat with peace and quiet until their plates were bare.
"Don't forget I brought us a treat," Natasha hinted as he took her plate.
"I didn't forget," he grinned.
Natasha left her seat and followed him into the kitchen. Making herself at home, she opened his fridge and grabbed the dessert box.
"Go sit," Bruce gently urged. "I can get that."
"I've got it," she promised. "You get the plates." She opened up the box to reveal a variety of cheesecake with eight slices and four different flavours. "Feel free to offer Stark and Pep some later."
"If Pepper's around, I'll let her know," he promised, peering over her shoulder as he set the table.
"She's closer than you think, Banner," she slyly remarked.
Bruce took his seat, watching Natasha as she took a strawberry-swirl slice for herself. "Next time, we should invite her and Tony to dinner. The more the merrier. Not that I don't enjoy having you all to myself," he quickly corrected.
Natasha slid the box in his direction. "Pretty sure those two have plans that go beyond dinner."
He carefully lifted a piece of turtle cheesecake with his fork and forefinger. "Maybe," he innocently assumed.
Natasha rested her fork against the plate once she was finished. "I'd stay longer, but I have an early meeting tomorrow."
"Sounds fun," he hummed, stacking his cleared plate onto hers. "I'm sure we'll be in touch at some point this week."
She rose from her seat in time with Bruce. "I'm sure we will." He made a move towards the kitchen, but she blocked his path. "Before I go, I've got a score to settle, Doc." Natasha admired the naivety in his eyes as the toes of her heels brushed against his shoes. She gave him a quick kiss on the lips that she willingly ended with a playful smirk. "We're even."
Bruce strengthened his grip around the plates as he processed what just happened.
"I'll see you soon, Banner." Natasha waved before seeing herself to the door.
He knew she wanted revenge, so he should've seen that coming. Bruce chuckled as he heard the front door click shut. She was still a mystery to him, but he was grateful to have her in his life.
Seeing her in his dream that night made Bruce uneasy. Unlike his last nightmare, she seemed quite happy to see him this time around, but he knew how quickly those things could change.
"Never said why you kissed me, Bruce," she hummed, watching as he took a seat on the couch beside her.
"Spur of the moment."
"Would you kiss me again?" she prodded.
"Probably not," he laughed.
Natasha brought her face dangerously close until the tip of her nose brushed his. "Then can I kiss you?"
His body froze as he speechlessly watched her crawl onto his lap.
"Just you and me," she breathed against his neck.
He felt her lips pucker around his skin as her fingers forced open his shirt. "Me…and you," he managed. Her hips pressed against his and the feel of her heat evoked a gasp.
Her bright green eyes locked with his. "I know what you want," she smirked before pressing her mouth to his.
Bruce felt like a teenager again when he was abruptly awakened from his slumber. He stared up at a blank ceiling, taking deep breaths as his heart pounded in his chest. The strain of his member tenting against his sweatpants forced a nagging guilt to wash over him. Bruce was disgusted with how his body betrayed him. He hated the way his subconscious chose to portray Natasha-that was never bound to happen between them. Not to mention he was going to have a much harder time looking at her. He groaned as he sat up to feel a distinct lump in his sheets.
At least he didn't hurt her.