Vital Communication Chapter 20
Disclaimer: This one is potentially triggery. Fury is definitely an asshole in this, and well, there's also a solid warning for cursing.
Fury finally found a moment to pay the Avengers a visit, well after Sitwell was done interrogating the lab geek the team had picked up. He found Steve in the gym, working off the last of his adrenaline, and quite a bit of worry.
"Captain Rogers," his bass voice echoed in the nearly empty space, catching the other man mid swing on the heavy bag. Steve completed the swing, which turned into the killing blow for the bag, ripping the poly-leather material and dumping sand all over the floor. Steve straightened and turned away from the deflated bag, focusing his attention on taped hands as he walked towards Fury.
"What can I do for you, Director?", the captain's voice lacked inflection and warmth. Nick wanted to sigh. The team still hadn't forgiven him for the callous treatment of the memory of Agent Coulson. No funeral, no wake, or memorial service of any kind. Maria Hill had tried to explain that it was a SHIELD directive, but Agents Barton and Romanov put paid to that idea. Rogers had less cause to trust, with the double debacles of his awakening and the Phase 2 weapons.
"Came to get an update on you and the rest of your team, Captain," Fury stated, trying to tone down the command portion of himself. He failed, when Rogers tilted his head to one side, considering if he'd been issued an order.
"Stark is with Banner, sleeping, according to the last report. Your medical team at least looks in on them, but nothing else," Steve's opinion of this lack of care spoke volumes. While the Hulk was no one's favorite, Bruce should be comfortable and well taken care of. If SHIELD couldn't provide that, well, it was a good idea that Stark was going to outfit the Tower with its own medical wing.
"I'll have a word," Fury began.
"Pardon me sir, I doubt that'll change things. Banner is a respected scientist, or should be. Without him, we would never have found the Tesseract. He's treated like a pariah at best, a carrier of the plague at worst," Steve interrupted. Fury glared balefully at the super soldier, who simply began peeling the tape off his knuckles, appearing disinterested in the whole meeting.
"Clint and Natasha should also be sleeping, or otherwise occupying themselves," Steve went on, moving from his left hand to his right. The tape found its way to the nearest trash bin, and Rogers grabbed his bottle of water to drink from, while Fury judged his next move.
"All right Captain, I won't keep you," Fury elected to retreat. He was rethinking several plans already in motion on this team, but was sure it would cause more trouble than if they went forward. He spun on his booted heel and stalked from the room to find his wayward agents. He held no illusions that this next meeting would go any smoother.
He found them in the cafeteria, deciding on what food to take Stark in a few hours.
"I think we need to go get something off base, Nat," Clint was saying to his partner as Fury swept up on them, duster flapping around him. She shrugged, putting back a bowl of chili in distaste.
"Agents," he growled. They barely reacted. He snorted in amusement. These two never did, even from their early days in the agency.
"Director," Romanov was polite, if frosty. Barton ignored him, and yet acknowledged his presence by shifting slightly closer to Romanov. Fury wasn't sure if it was protection, or solidarity.
"How are you?", Fury asked. It was less a request for boring small talk than a demand for a sitrep. They'd been on an unapproved mission, and Fury hated that. Their missions should only be approved by SHIELD, even Avengers ones.
"Uninjured, sir. Fight was unequal," Barton grinned, jaw tight. It reminded Fury of a hyena. Barton hated Fury, or SHIELD, he was never 100% sure on that score. Perhaps both, equally.
"Same," Romanov said, her voice a cold slide of ice against his exposed skin. She was normal then, wholly indifferent to most of the world around her. Or so Fury believed. No one had cracked her outer shell, according to the rumor mill. The pair had managed to keep their affairs quite separated from SHIELD's influence over the years.
"And this situation?" Fury wanted to know. The whole thing left a bad taste in his mouth. Banner, or more precisely, the Hulk, had more use to him, to SHIELD, than the geeky, quiet, scientist that housed the beast.
This was honestly the darkest test to date for the Avengers. His agents were reasonably prepared for these types of situations, for torture, having some level of training. But civilians like Stark and Banner? He could only hope Banner came out of this as strong as Stark always appeared to be.
"Working through it, Director. As a team," Barton growled, a deeper tone to the word 'team', than the rest of his statement. It told Fury that he was treading on thin ice. It was a wonder Barton was still in the same room with the other man, as angry as he seemed to be. It wasn't quite his default emotional state, but it had been, lately.
"Good. Keep doing that." And Nick Fury left his two best assets behind, again. He needed to discuss replacements with Hill, and soon. They were getting too tied up in this hero nonsense, and he really needed to either bring them back into the fold of SHIELD, or cut them loose.
He went down to the pseudo-medical room they were housing Banner in, stuck his head in and found Banner awake, staring at the ceiling.
"Dr. Banner," Fury said, by way of announcing himself before he walked into the room. He then closed the door behind him. He didn't need any interruptions.
Bruce's eyes, bizarrely double colored as they were, moved and refocused on the bulk of Nick Fury as he approached the bed. Wearing his usual unrelenting, head to toe black, Fury was attempting to maintain his usual intimidation. What he didn't realize, and could not realize, that Bruce wasn't fully himself. And Bruce was having none of it that day. Neither he, nor the Hulk, trusted the Director of SHIELD, or for that matter, much of the organization as a whole.
"Fury leave," he growled out, surprising the head of SHIELD with the depth of anger in those two words.
"I need to debrief you, Doctor. Get the complete picture," Fury said, coming to a stop beside the bed. He hadn't yet noticed Tony sleeping not 2 feet away.
"Nothing to say," Bruce growled, shifting uneasily in his bed, the metal frame ominously creaking. The heart monitor he still wore registered a spike in beats, but Fury couldn't tell if the scientist was anxious, or just angry. His skin tone remained the usual flesh color of Banner, no green in sight.
"We have Dr. Ross in custody, Dr. Banner. Without a statement from you," Fury pushed. He really needed to convince the man that they'd cut Ross loose if he didn't report on the incident in the warehouse. Banner actually growled, an animalistic noise, something close to that of a tiger. His hands fisted, and came up defensively. The heart monitor jack rabbited beside Fury, practically screaming from the incredible jump in Banner's anger. Still, he remained pasty white.
Both sounds were enough to drag Stark back to consciousness, however reluctantly. Groggy, he sat up. "What the ever loving fuck?"
"Stay out of it, for once Stark," Fury snapped, not even glancing in his direction. His tone further upset Banner.
"Leave him alone, One Eye," Bruce grunted, lurching forward on the bed, one hand swiping the oxygen tubes off his face. Fury didn't move in the face of what Tony registered as increased danger.
"Fury, what the hell? Get out of here!", Tony demanded, standing from the camp cot, blanket sliding to the floor. Fury chanced to flick his single eyed gaze at Tony and dismissed him, irrelevant, focusing back on Banner in a single blink. The doctor was hunched forward, upper body tight and bent in, focused like a gorilla ready to attack.
He tried again to poke the bear, "We can't hold her on anything but kidnapping. And the drugs in your bloodstream? Well, there might be an incident."
"Now wait just a God damn minute Fury!" Tony snarled, tripping over the blanket tangled around his feet in his haste to reach Bruce's side. Bruce was growling, skin taking on a subtle lime color as the Hulk made his first bid for freedom. Someone had to protect Banner and Tin Man.
"LEAVE ONE-EYE!" he snarled, volume battering their collective eardrums. He came off the bed, only to hit the floor on his bandaged knees. Tony winced in sympathy at the loud impact thuds. Bruce surged to his feet, body caught in the change to the Hulk. Bandages became strained, before breaking against his upper arms and around his chest as he trebled in size, skin tone shading from that limey beige through to forest green.
Immediately the room became cramped with the Hulk's mass. The bed got shoved back to the counter, the heart monitor was tipped over, leads trailing. The oxygen tank rolled off to the opposite side of Tony, who took another step forward, comically shaking free of the blanket, trying to reach the Hulk's side. Fury craned his head up, trying to keep the eyes of the behemoth before him. He refused to give ground, or show fear. He certainly felt it though, adrenaline spiking hot and fierce in his system. Hulk roared his displeasure, moving a menacing half step forward. Something twinged in his chest, making him swipe at it with one huge hand. The action disconnected the PICC line, and threw the IV pole to the ground, bursting the bag of fluids. Liquid rushed and puddled around their feet, ignored.
"One Eye stop pushing Banner," Hulk growled, protectively. He was breathing hard, trying to control his visceral reaction. He knew that now was not the time to go on a rampage. Bruce, in the mindscape was attempting to remind him of that.
"No," Fury shot back, pushing his fast disappearing luck.
Tony quickly darted around to stand between them, "Are you out of your Goddamn mind, Fury? Get the hell out of here!" He faced the Director, putting his back trustingly to the Hulk, as if he alone could protect the green giant. Fury looked at Stark, then at the menacing green behemoth, and considered his options. Stark rattled on, "You won't get shit from Bruce now, asshole. Disappear, before he turns you into a smear against the damn wall!"
"This is not over, Stark. We need his damn statement to hold these three!" Fury threatened hollowly, whirling on a boot heel and striding out of the room in a flare of black leather. He slammed open the door, passing Ashwhite in the hall, who had responded to the heart monitor's alarm. He stood in the doorway, and watched Tony try and calm Hulk back to the physicist.
"All right Big Guy, we ran him off. Do you want to smash? Or let Bruce back out?" Tony had turned to look up at the Hulk, concern etched over his features. Hulk shifted in place, clearly thinking. Ashwhite could see the heterochromia had carried over, and really wondered what that meant.
"Medic, Tin Man," Hulk finally said, gaze shifting to pin Ashwhite in place. The anger was draining out of him, but he held his form, unsure of the physician's assistant that hovered in the doorway. At least he didn't stink of fear, like Fury had. He hated that smell, and was so glad it was never present on Tony.
"So he is. Ashwhite," Tony turned his head to see the medic. His tone was cool, collected, where just a moment ago, he was attempting to wage a minor war for his friend.
"Mr. Stark, Hulk," Ashwhite said, keeping his voice level, his words calm. "You need to know, whatever Fury has planned, I won't support. He's got more than enough to hold Dr. Ross and her associates on the drug charges alone," he explained, knowing he was likely ruining his career with SHIELD. He didn't care, he held his vows as a doctor to a higher standard than his vows to SHIELD.
"Prepared for that?" Tony wanted to know. Wanted to know if this man was trustworthy. So far, the only person still with SHIELD to really appear to be on their side.
"How far?" Ashwhite queried back. Tony waved him into the room. Ashwhite didn't hesitate, pulling the door closed once more.
"Hulk, I'm calling the rest of the team, okay?" Tony advised his big, green friend, going to the cot to fish his phone out from under the pillow. He'd stuffed it there in case it vibrated.
"Good," Hulk grunted, settling back on his haunches and closing his eyes. He was tired, they both were, but he didn't want to give up control just yet. In case Fury returned.
"Hulk? May I give you a once over? Make sure all the wounds are gone?" Ashwhite asked. Hulk grunted but otherwise didn't move. Ashwhite was easily able to visually inspect the giant man, noting that each stripe of peeled skin had sealed up and was now barely a memory on his tough, leathery hide. He had to deal with the remainder of the PICC line, but would require Tony's help for that, unsure how Hulk would take to such proximity, much less touching by the veritable stranger. Tony was on the phone to Natasha, telling her to bring the rest of the team up to Bruce's room.
"Mr. Stark? If you could, give me a hand with this last bit of catheter and I'm sure Hulk will be much more comfortable," Ashwhite spoke, looking directly at the Hulk in front of him. Hulk didn't twitch at his words, assuming he understood them. Tony moved to stand beside him, and reached out to touch the Hulk on the shoulder closest to him. It was also the side where the PICC line was located.
"Doc needs to pull this bit out of you, okay Big Guy? Hold still for us," Tony murmurs. He motioned Ashwhite to go ahead. The medic quickly and gently pulled the line, swabbing the tiny hole left behind with a cotton ball extracted from his pocket. He grimaced over the lack of sanitation, but chose not to make the giant wait while he fumbled for alcohol.
Soon the others joined them, expressing happiness on the Hulk's appearance. Hulk was reassured by their appearance in return, and was sufficiently calmed to let Bruce take back control. Everyone watched the deflation with unconcealed interest, seeing the mighty bulk displace itself back to the no less mighty, small scientist. Tony reached out again, and touched him gently on both shoulders, grounding him. Bruce flinched a bit, before he opened his eyes.
"Can we go home?" he asked, plaintive and quiet.
"Yeah Bruce, we can do that," Tony answered, wrapping the other man in a gentle, firm embrace.
AN: I'm not sure I'm happy with Fury's voice here. But ah well. I won't be using him much, methinks.