"Ow, careful, please." Lennon hissed as Bruce tried to clean out the gash on her collarbone.

Bruce sighed. "Lennon, it has to be cleaned out."

"Yeah, but it hurts."

"Maybe if you hold still..." He mumbled.

Lennon grunted in pain as the doctor placed the warm rag over the cut. Her face looked better than it had, although she still looked sick. Her face was still incredibly pale, and her body seemed so frail. The doctor did his best to not press too hard, for fear that her would hurt her. As he brushed over a bruise on her arm, she cried out, sending the doctor back a step.

"Excuse me?" Came Natasha's voice from the doorway.

Bruce turned around and gave the master assassin a half smile. "Hello." He said.

The redhead nodded at him. "Lennon, I brought you a change of clothes. I thought they'd be more comfortable than your wet stuff."

Lennon carefully got off the table and took the cloths from her. "Thank you so much Natasha. I owe you one, girl."

"Not at all. It's no problem. Just leave the wet cloths in the bathroom. They'll be cleaned and dried tomorrow." She smiled politely at the white haired woman, then left.

Lennon grinned at the doctor. "Give me a moment. I'll be back."

"Take your time." He replied as she flitted out of the room.

Bruce leaned against the counter and took his glasses off. Tony was never going to let him live it down that he brought a girl home. Why did it matter to him? Before he and Pepper got together, Tony had girls over all the time, sometimes more than one! The man was so aggravating. The only he had so much publicity was because he made his living off of pissing people off. Bruce sighed heavily, pulling a hand through his hair. He hoped that Lennon didn't actually believe what Tony had said. Besides, Tony was the one bringing her up constantly. Sure, Bruce had been thinking about her, but not in that way. That would be highly disrespectful toward her! Even the Other Guy didn't like him saying that stuff.

Damn. Maybe he really did have a soft spot for the girl...

The sound of the door closing broke him of his concentration, and he turned to greet the girl, but he immediately sucked in a sharp breath. She had changed out of the leather jeans she was wearing when they met, and was now in a pair of black leggings and a heather grey tank top. She looked a lot warmer than she did earlier. Her hair which was now dry, was falling gracefully in her face and brushed over her shoulder. Then, on the right, since it was shaved, her shoulder was exposed, and there was a half sleeve tattoo of a tiger's head surrounded by a dark blue sky, a bright moon, and a vast canopy of leaves. The tattoo was beautiful. Bruce had never seen anything like it. He marveled at how good the young girl looked. She very skinny, almost too skinny for Bruce's liking, but she had a great figure. Her legs were those of a ballerina, and her milky pale complexion was the most beautiful in the dim lighting. Although the make up on her eyes had been removed, her eyes seemed to pop against her pale face. He still couldn't get over the green of her eyes. Whoa there, big guy. Bruce thought.

Lennon grinned. "Hiya."

He smiled nervously at the woman. "Hi.

She grabbed at her rip cage and winced. "Hey, do you think you could look at something for me?" She asked, her voice pained. "You're a doctor, so I guess you know more about this kind of stuff than I would."

Dr. Banner cleared his throat. "Of course." He replied, holding his hand out to help her onto the table. She was moving slowly, and the doctor realized that she was limping. "What's wrong with your ankle?" He asked nervously.

Lennon groaned in pain as she got on the table. "I don't know. Feels sprained, but you're the doctor."

Bruce sighed as he reached down to take a look at her torso. "What is it that's bothering you? Are you bleeding?" He asked.

She shook her head. "No. It's this." Lennon pulled her tank top up half way, only to reveal a huge deep gash on the right side of her rib cage. The gash was surrounded by an ink colored bruise which covered her torso.

Bruce cringed at the sight of it. "What happened, Lennon?" He gasped.

"I got it when I fell into the fountain." She explained.

Bruce lightly traced his fingers over the bruise. "Are your ribs alright?" He demanded, trying not to sound too harsh. "They don't look broken or anything."

She nodded. "Nothing broken or dislocated, it just hurts."

The doctor took a wash cloth and wrapped it in some of the ice from Tony's scotch collection. He rarely drank anything on the rocks, but when he did, he always had a stash of ice nearby. He let the cloth become cold, then he took it in his hand and held the thin fabric of the tank top out of the way. He gave Lennon an apologetic look. "This is going to hurt a bit."

The young woman nodded and bit down on her lip. "Go on." Bruce gently pressed the cold cloth to her bruise. Lennon caught her breath in pain. "Fuck!" She hissed.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" Bruce murmured, lightening his pressure on the wound.

She waved him off. "It's alright." She answered a little breathlessly. "I have tattoos, you'd think I'd be okay, but Jesus, this shit hurts."

As the doctor mended her, she started to relax her body, which made it easier for him to help. The two sat in silence for moment as Bruce's mind flickered back to the events of the day. A question was burning in his mind, a question he didn't want to ask, but he wanted to know. "Lennon, may I ask you a… Possibly uncomfortable question?"

She raised an eyebrow. "Sure." She replied, although it sounded more like a question.

"You don't have to answer if you don't want to, I'm just curious."

The white haired girl shrugged. "Go for it."

The doctor paused a moment as he put a gauze pad over the cut on her rib cage. That boy in the street… Who was he?" He asked carefully, not wanting to hurt her.

Lennon stiffened as he asked, her eyes quickly becoming sad as she looked away.

Bruce regretted asking. He looked down, ashamed of himself. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to ask. That was mean."

She shook her head. "No, it's alright." She shifted uncomfortably on the table. "His name was Sam. He was... A really good friend of mine." She said, her voice cold.

"Boyfriend?" He asked quietly.

She scoffed as if I had insulted her. "Never. He was my best friend. He and I used to be... Uh... Well, to be blunt, we were drug addicts together." She replied. She shuddered, as if reliving a bad memory.

Bruce looked up at her in shock, his ears still ringing from what he had just heard.

Lennon smiled sadly at the dumbfounded doctor, turned her left arm around so that he could see her forearm. Her arm was covered in multiple scars from needles. "I know you've noticed it." She began to say. "I know you've noticed how my face looks sunken in, how I look like I haven't eaten in a few weeks... I'm clean now, as I have been for eight years, but I still look like shit." The woman laughed, but it was forced. Bruce was speechless. "I have an addictive personality. When I try something like that, I can't just do it once, I have to keep going. So... I always find something to get addicted too. And... I just had to choose heroin. I shot up for the first time when I was fourteen. Sam and I did it together all through high school. No one ever knew, we would just sit there in school and wait until lunch, then we'd go outside and shoot up. The end of sophomore year, Sam got a car, so we'd go shoot up in his car."

"What made you stop?" Bruce asked.

Lennon laughed. "Oh, that's a fun story. Well... Sam and I got caught." She answered, smiling as she looked back on the memory. "We had just gotten some, and we were about to shoot up in his car, when a cop rolls by. He sees what we're doing and he tries to arrest us. Sam and I sat there on the ground, both sobbing messes, knowing our lives were over. Suddenly, the cop stops what he's doing, and says 'I can't do this.'" Lennon paused, a slow smile spreading across her face. "We asked him what he meant, and he said 'I can't do this to you. Either of you. I've seen some horrible things in my twenty five years as a cop, and nothing breaks my heart more than seeing you two, still babies, feeling the need to use. I don't know what you go through at home, I don't know why you feel like you need to use, but I'm not going to ruin your lives.' So, you know what he did?" She asked, glancing at Bruce.

He shook his head. "What did he do?"

She chuckled. "He wrote us each a fifty dollar ticket for disturbing the peace. We had music blaring in the car."

The pair laughed, as Bruce continued to help with the bruise. "How long ago was that?"

"I've been clean for eight years. That day was my eighteenth birthday. Sam and I both got clean after that. We quit together. Sam was always the kind of guy to be there at four in the morning if you're still awake, whether or not he had work at eight. We made a pact that if we weren't married to different people by the time we were thirty, we'd get married. We made than pact the day I turned twenty one. His birthday is the day before mine." Her voice trailed off as a tear fell down her cheek.

Bruce felt the urge to comfort the girl. He wanted to help her, but he had no idea how. "I'm so sorry, for your loss." The words felt wrong. You can't replace someone like that. Saying 'I'm sorry' doesn't do a damn thing.

And yet, Lennon Burke only smiled at him and looked down. "Thanks, Bruce."