Sleep didn't come easy for Bruce that night. He worked well past three am until he nodded off at his workstation. The nap proved to be very short lived when a nightmare about General Ross jolted him awake. After finalizing a design for his elastic pants, he dozed off. That time, he didn't awaken until Tony entered the lab bearing two mugs of coffee. The strong scent of freshly ground beans wafted into Bruce's nose, pleasantly waking him.

"Late night?"

Bruce rubbed a trail of drool from his cheek before straightening his glasses. The time on his computer screen read 9:07. "So it seems." He accepted his cup of coffee and took a sip.

Tony hopped up onto Bruce's table and tapped the sides of his ceramic mug. "Romanoff told me what happened."

Bruce took another long sip of his drink. Yesterday's events became clearer as his senses grew more alert.

"Listen, buddy…" Tony set his mug aside. "That woman I saw the other day…" Bruce turned to him with a drained expression. "It was Ross."

His brows knitted together in anger, then softened into hurt. "He saw me?…"

"No!" Tony swiftly corrected. "He didn't. That's why I kicked you out. I sort of called the guy over to chat once you left." Anger was steadily returning to Bruce's eyes. "I told him he can't have you. You're not his property, Banner."

Tony's previous silence suddenly made sense to him. "Does he know I've moved?"

Tony didn't bother to try beating around the bush. "He knows."

Bruce emptily stared at his work table's sleek surface. "Time for me to move elsewhere, I suppose…"

"No," Tony interjected. "You stay right here. Don't let him scare you."

Regardless of his friend's order, Bruce no longer felt safe in the city. "He has my blood, Tony," he panicked.

"We're already on that matter," Tony promised. "Romanoff got a picture of the car. It was returned to a dealer and we're pulling strings to get a name."

"It could be too late," Bruce sulked. "Knowing Ross, he has some kind of serum perfected that's only missing my blood…"

"Your blood could always screw up said hypothetical serum," Tony mentioned in an effort to cheer his partner up.
"Then I need to worry about him coming after me again…"

"Let's focus on the now." Tony hopped down from the table and observed a swatch of fabric Bruce had constructed. "How about we start these pants?"

Bruce rubbed his tired eyes and nodded. "Do you have a machine that can create several yards of this for us? And construct them?"

"I'll hook you up with S.H.I.E.L.D.'s tailors," Tony replied. "We'll make it a rush delivery."

"No. No rush. You said before that you're busy this week," Bruce reminded him.

"That was a lie," Tony began, "I'm worried he'll locate you if we try another secret island trip."

Bruce nodded in agreement. "Can't have that…"

Tony recognized the look of disappointment in his partner's eyes, so he gave him a light smack on the shoulder. "I'll make sure your all-nighters don't go in vain."

"I'd much rather have this mess over with," Bruce mumbled. "I'm so sorry I've become a burden, Tony, I can always move-"

Tony jabbed his finger against the doctor's chest. "You're staying right here."

Bruce managed a helpless smile. Tony was too good to him, a true friend. "Thank you, Tony."

"You want me to call Fury? See how the chase is going?"

Bruce shook his head. "I should give Natasha a call. She'll keep me updated." Unless information on the General was considered "classified." He excused himself from the lab and ventured up to his floor to grab his phone. Bruce lay in his own bed, feeling ready to drift off to sleep once his head hit the pillow. He pulled up Natasha's name and brought the phone close to his ear while resting his eyes.

"Bruce," Natasha acknowledged.

"Find anything new?"

"We did." She could sense the fatigue in his groggy voice. "I have a name and an address to one of Ross' friends. I'll be obtaining information from him tonight."

Bruce hummed in reply. "Are you persuading him? You're good at that."

"All in a day's work," she mused.

Bruce opened his eyes and found himself idly staring at the ceiling. "Promise me you'll be okay."

She smiled. "One guy shouldn't be a problem." But she knew how frantic Bruce could get. "I'll be careful," Natasha added for his sanity. "I'll text you when it's over."

"I'd appreciate that," he weakly laughed.

"Get some rest, Bruce."

Natasha was suited up and prepared by the time night fell. Acting solely on her boss' orders and the need to avenge a friend, she found herself scaling a penthouse wall until she reached the seventeenth floor. Natasha swung towards the bay window and gracefully landed on the balcony. She freed herself from her harness, letting it wait for her to return to it as it latched around the balcony's fencing. Peering into the house, there was a lone light in what she assumed to be the kitchen. Natasha recalled the building's floor plan she had memorized before leaving and began plotting where her first move would be. She reached for a new gadget clipped to her belt and activated a switch. It was a small device, but it was strong enough that it could emit a signal to disrupt any possible security alarms from going off. One of the bullets around her wrist was activated to become a laser that cut through a fragment of the glass door with ease. Natasha carefully knocked out the cut shape and caught the piece before it could fall and shatter. She then let her hand reach into the suite to unlock the door. The Widow entered quietly and readied her gun once she was inside. So far, there wasn't a peep. Natasha navigated towards one of the bedrooms to find a closed door. She ignored the urge to open it. Natasha had a better plan-one that would bring the target to her. She wandered into the kitchen and opened up the fridge. Aside from a half-empty bottle of wine, it was empty. Natasha closed the door with her armed hand, but her wrist was seized, forcing her to drop her gun. She smirked as she activated her bracelet's tazers and threw a backwards punch against her target's throat.

A man's voice hissed and released the redhead before toppling backwards.

"Are we alone?" The Black Widow knelt over the man's body, her stinger bracelets dangerously close to his throat.

The man sputtered, but a jolt of electricity through his body forced him to shriek a startled "yes!"

"Where's the blood sample?" she demanded. Her target responded with a bitter glare. Natasha locked her fingers around the man's thick neck. "I know you're working with Ross." Glowering into his eyes, she recognized him as the one who stabbed Bruce. "Tell me where the sample is, or I kill you right here." He spit in her face and she clenched her jaw as her Widow's Sting attacked again.

A pained scream escaped the target's throat.

Natasha deactivated her tazers, afraid he would pass out on her. "You ready to talk?"

"Ross!" he hissed through his teeth. "Ross has it."

Her fingers tightened around his throat. "Where is he?"

"H-his home," he choked out.

"And who are you to him?" Natasha pressed. "And your driver buddy?"

A coughing fit ensued, but stopped when the redhead's fingers loosened. "T-tests. Test subjects."

"For the blood?"

He managed a nod.

Natasha scowled before bringing her fist close to the target's cheek. "He's bribing you?" Another nod. "Money?"

"Y-yes…"

She rose to her feet and went to grab her gun. "Get out of here. You and your friend," she warned in a grave tone.

The man propped himself up on his elbows, eyes glued to the woman. "He'll kill me."

Natasha turned to meet his gaze. "He won't lay a finger on you." She secured her gun in its holster before sauntering over to the broken glass door. "I was never here," she confirmed before disappearing into the night.

Bruce was slow to react to a faint vibrating on his nightstand. A hand clumsily groped for his phone as he sat up in bed. He squinted his eyes as the screen gave him a blinding glare. Bruce's eyes needed a moment to adjust before he could finally read his newest message from Natasha.

Just got home. Tomorrow's target is Ross.

He wanted to feel relieved that Natasha made it back safely, but his fear of the General put him into a panic mode. His fingers subconsciously called up Natasha and when he heard a stifled "hello?" from the speaker, he brought the device to his ear. Bruce wasn't aware of the time until he checked the clock on his nightstand. 3:18. "Sorry," he began. "It's late."

"Did I wake you?"

Her voice sounded as alert as ever. "I can be a light sleeper," he admitted. "I appreciate the text."

"It went well," Natasha replied, predicting his next question. "And I'm fine. Turns out my target is Ross' test subject-the guy who cut you. But don't worry-I contacted Fury. We're nailing Ross for this tomorrow."

He felt a lump form in his throat. "What if it's too late?"

Natasha exhaled through her nose. "He didn't use the blood yet, so don't worry… But he is planning to use it on this guy."

"Oh, god…" Bruce ran a hand through his bed head.

"Bruce," Natasha stated in a calming tone, "it's fine. He hasn't acted yet. That's why I'm getting him tomorrow before he does anything."

He shook his head, fingers clenching around his phone. "You can't go alone."

"Maybe I won't," Natasha mused. "Might have Barton with me."

That gave him no relief. "I should go."

"We can't risk the other guy coming out and drawing attention," she warned. "And I know you can't keep it under control with Ross near."

"I developed a tranquilizer," Bruce continued. "If I'm given it before I'm too far gone, it should knock me out cold."

Natasha didn't want to doubt his sedative, but he was taking a risk. "And if it doesn't work?"

"It's triple a normal dose." Bruce paused. "It, uh… could put me out for several days, at most."

"I'm not going in on this mission for you to experiment with that, Doctor," she tersely cautioned.

"I can't risk him hurting you, Natasha. You said he took a hostage-what if his next one is you?"

"I've been held hostage more times than I can count," she promised.

She was a task to argue with. Too stubborn. "I'll talk to Director Fury about staying close by."

"Bruce…"

"This concerns me, Natasha," he gruffly reminded her. "He has my blood."

Natasha didn't feel like picking a fight this late. "Talk to Fury," she murmured. "He'll work something out with you. Say you wanna be a last resort option." She hated dealing with novices on missions. "But promise him you'll wait outside."

Bruce heavily sighed. "I hate being a burden…"

"You're not."

"I'm the reason for this mess," he sulked.

She could picture his pleading eyes watering with guilt. This wasn't a conversation to have over the phone. He needed proper face-to-face consoling. "You really can't blame yourself, Bruce. Ross is a criminal, and once we get him, you'll be free to live your life."

He managed a hopeful smile. "If only."

"Bruce… We'll get him."

"I believe you, Natasha," he confirmed. "And… when you get the blood sample, be sure to properly dispose of it."

"I'll give you that honour," she promised. "But now try focusing on getting some sleep."

"Right," he nodded. "I'll do that. Good night, Natasha."

"Sleep tight, Bruce."

Natasha wasn't surprised to find Bruce in Fury's office that afternoon. He was sitting in her usual spot before the Director's desk, so she opted for the seat to his left. "Am I late?" She caught Bruce eying her pencil skirt for a second.

Nick shook his head. "Dr. Banner requested to speak with me before your arrival."

Natasha turned to the Doctor. "You're that eager to go on this mission?"

Bruce ignored her question and chose to pick up where his one-on-one conversation left off. "My concern is safety. And anonymity. I was informed Ross is keeping a hostage. What if Agents Romanoff or Barton's safety is compromised? If they're taken hostage…"

"My agents have endured hostage situations," Fury calmly promised.

Natasha chose to keep her mouth shut while the boys talked.

"All I ask is that I accompany them as back up," Bruce requested.

Fury tapped a finger against the back of his hand. "I'll be honest, Doctor. The Hulk will make quite the wild card… Granted he doesn't completely lose it," he warned. "Can't afford to pay for more wreckage…"

Bruce's mouth formed a hard line.

The men fell silent and Natasha allowed herself a word. "If Dr. Banner insists on accompanying me, then I have no objections." Bruce turned to her and she flashed him a smile. "Granted, he promises to stay in the getaway car."

Fury paused to eye Bruce. "Was there something you wished to tell the General?"

Bruce quietly chuckled. "I'd like to give him some choice words, but it may get me a bit worked up."

"Agent Romanoff won't kill him," Fury vowed. "We'll take him in for questioning, even allow you some time to chat in private."

Bruce fell silent as he contemplated the agreement. "How long will you keep him locked up?"

Nick relaxed in his chair. "That depends on his cooperation."

Bruce was still, but after a brief moment, he nodded. "I'll accompany Agent Romanoff as backup."

Nick turned to his longtime employee. "Agent Barton will be here soon. Did you come prepared?" he wondered.

"You know I always do, Nick," she smirked.