☢ FIC ⇝ Bruce Banner is not a bitch. 8(
Title: *some home assembly required
Author: fribbled
Word Count: 6486
Rating: PG-13
CHARACTERS: Tony Stark ; Nick Fury ; JARVIS ; Pepper Potts ; Steve Rogers ; Janet van Dyne; Thor ; Hank Pym ; Bruce Banner
Warnings: Some language, Tony being a dick, lots of run-on mental narrative side trips, Tony getting backhanded through a building... Same old, same old. Oh, and shameless pirating off of Kari's the_ironman because she is THAT damn good.
Summary/Description: Nick Fury wants Tony Stark to put together a team, but not all the recruits are particularly gung-ho about the prospect. Since the Avengers movie isn't coming out until FOREVER 2014, I figured I might as well give a shot at predicting how it'll go. Tony's POV, with a big emphasis on Tony+Bruce in that they are so Marvel's new Odd Couple. Only with more bastardy.
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When Fury first slides over the two dossiers, Tony is only half listening. The other half is wondering who the hell would codename a military operation Hulkbuster. Probably the same schmucks who thought up Iron Man. But at least Iron Man was better than Hulkbuster - hell, there was even a kickass rock classic already made up that he could use as a theme song (he makes a mental note to get JARVIS on getting the rights for that, right after beefing up his anti-hacker protocols enough to make Arnold Schwarzenegger look like Christopher Walken).
But then he opens the file, TOP SECRET everywhere as if the guy with the stamp had something to prove, and he rolls his eyes at the commanding officer because now the name makes sense. Thaddeus Ross. He’d done a few weapons tests for the guy, and he was so damn picky all the time. Well, pickier than your average general wanting the best from the best, if Tony does say so himself - which he does, and often. He skims over the lines of text (gamma radiation, blah blah blah, great progress, yadda yadda yadda, unexpected results, I don’t care, et cetera) and he’s still tuning Fury out because it’s all the same bull. Or at least he thinks so until he grabs a peek at the photos. He brings them in closer, disinterest gone in the flash of suspicion and professional scrutiny. A lifetime of tabloid covers has given him an expert eye in photo manipulation (not that Tony does more than enough to keep them coming without the help of Photoshop), and gives Fury a hard look.
“…This isn’t bullshit, is it?” It’s more statement than question, but the colonel (though he’s probably got enough security clearance for a dozen brigadier generals) just gives him a Look that makes it damned clear that he doesn’t waste his time with bullshit. Tony goes through the rest of the pictures and it’s enough to make him actually read the actual report. There’s a slight chill that this thing, this “Hulk” as it’s been dubbed (another roll of the eyes for Ross), has been rampaging around for over five years with no word had getting out. It gives him a much better sense of how good S.H.I.E.L.D. really is. Of course, when the second file gets checked out, Tony gives Fury a Look of his own, eyebrow cocked and mouth quirked in a “come on” smirk.
“Okay. Now I know you’re shitting me.” He displays the wallet-sized picture of Bruce Banner, face grinning at the camera, eyes crinkling with laughter and arm slung around someone who’s since been cut out as unnecessary. “There is no way in hell, none, that this little geeker dweeb turns into that.”
Fury just continues glaring, and Tony wonders for a split second if the man has any other expression. “That ‘geeker dweeb’,” he says harshly, “is responsible for at least half a dozen deaths that we know of. Probably more since he’s fallen off the radar, and-”
“Whoa, whoa, time out, partner,” he interrupts, ignoring how the other man seems to have gotten even angrier at being cut off, which is rather impressive as Tony was quite certain he’d hit his limit. Then again, that was Tony’s real superpower. “How could you possibly lose something like this? It’s not as if it lends itself to stealth, you know. Being big and green kind of nixes that out.”
“And since you’ve agreed to our little venture,” Fury just plows on, and Tony thinks that’s rather rude, but not as rude as possibly having his home tactically nuked (and he’s pretty sure, no, he knows this guy would do it and be able to get away with it), “you’ll be the one in charge of getting him to agree as well.”
“…What, that’s it?”
“You’ll have to find him first, Stark.”
Tony has just finished recovering from that commencement speech at Harvard or Yale or whichever college it was, it hardly mattered when you were invited to at least five fraternities’ graduation keggers after the fact. At least he thinks it was five, after the fourth things got a little spotty. But Wolf Blitzer is on the television, reviewing the monster sighting at Culver University a few days ago (so that’s where those sonic cannons ended up, I was wondering about those) while Anderson Cooper is broadcasting live from in front of the Apollo Theater even as construction crews and policemen try to deal with the complete wreckage behind him. Tony’s smirking even before Pepper comes down into the garage to inform him that Colonel Fury is on the line for you, sir, and I don’t think he’s in the best of moods.
Pepper always has a fabulous talent for understatement - Fury cusses so hard and so fast that Tony feels as if his ears have been physically violated. At least until he starts hearing swears he’d never imagined in his life and then he’s just trying to remember the better ones for his own personal use.
Forty-five minutes later, he’s taking notes even as JARVIS gets the satellites tracking the trail Banner left from New York to wherever he’s going in place and Pepper books him a flight to Newark. After all (as Fury puts it in much more colorful terms), who better to cruise the bars to find Ross’ pity party?
It takes time. Between all these Russians suddenly taking a sharp interest in him, acclimating a former patriotic popsicle to the twenty-first century, and a frigging god deciding he wanted to spend some quality time among these lesser mortals, it’s a while before Tony even starts on a plan for getting Banner. He hasn’t been slacking on the job, of course not, despite what Fury has to say on the subject. And he’s been getting earfuls on the subject day in, day out, night in, night out, and that’s a surefire way to kill the mood, bring home a girl and there’s an angry black cyclops ready to curse you out making himself right at home on your very expensive couch. He has satellites watching the guy 24/7, with daily reports on what he does. Real mundane stuff - feeding his chickens, walking through the woods, meditating next to the little waterfall by the little cabin.
Tony’s learned this much, at least: if he ever needs a vacation that’ll bore him to death, he’ll be going to British Columbia.
There’s quite a bit of discussion about just how to approach the man. Cap keeps talking about going out to meet him face to face, never mind it’s a bit of a hike (Tony and Janet shared a horrified glance at that because goddamn that is nowhere near what either would call a “bit”, or even a “hike” - it’s more along the lines of “why the hell can’t we just forget it, it’s that far”). Thor just wants something to happen already because the guy may be immortal but he’s more than a little short on patience. Hank starts going on about something but takes so damn long to get to the point that eventually Tony just tells everyone to be quiet and gives them the game plan. It’s pretty much their plans all smushed together, but that doesn’t matter because it was his idea to use their ideas in this way in the first place. Besides, he’s been itching to take out the new prototype quinjet out for a ride.
Even at mach speeds, the flight takes too damn long (Thor starts complaining about how he would be able to get there faster, Janet starts hitting on Pym, Pym gets all flustered and attempts several times to change the subject to something more inane like ‘wow, those are some pretty clouds out there, huh’, and Cap is sitting very still as if the slightest bit of movement will cause the plane to just stop working). Tony lands it - perfectly, he might add - in the clearing right in front of the Jolly Green Geek’s cabin, strutting out as if expecting there to be several dozen photographers waiting, shutters clicking (it gets to be a habit, what can he say). The rest follow him out and he’s just about to knock on the door when Janet clears her throat politely.
“Tony.”
He sighs because come on, can they not get this over and done with and get back to civilization already. “What is it, Jan?”
When he turns around, Jan is pointing at the wall of the valley behind the cabin and… Yep, right there through a break in the trees is a little dot moving pretty quickly up and over the ridge. It’s a moot point, but Tony peeks in through a window to check that the place has been packed up in a real big hurry.
“Huh,” he says thoughtfully. “Guess those engines are louder than I thought. I’ll get R&D on fixing that soon as we get back. Everybody, back on the plane. Come on, kids, scoot!”
It takes a few minutes before Cap and Thor’s objections to being labeled as “kids” are dealt with, and a few more to explain that Jesus H. Christ, it’s just a figure of speech. Then another ten minutes as Steve Rogers lectures him on taking the Lord’s name in vain and swearing in general.
And somewhere between wanting to introduce his face to his palm and actually hearing himself apologize for his swearing, Tony realizes that he isn’t the guy in charge of this team anymore. And what’s more is that he doesn’t mind it all that much. But Tony’s always been about dealing with one thing at a time and he’ll deal with all that after they get Banner.
But damn it, he makes sure that he gets on the plane ahead of Steve because epiphany or no, he’s still Tony fucking Stark and this is still his quinjet.
Tony is treated to another three lectures before they catch up with Banner (one from JARVIS, one from Pepper after JARVIS updates her on the situation, and one from Fury but Tony hangs up on that one as soon as he hears who’s on the line) and he’s starting to have a grudging respect for Banner being able to run this far and this fast.
Or maybe it’s extreme annoyance. Whatever.
Because somehow between crossing over from British Columbia to Alberta, someone was stupid enough to piss Banner off. So now instead of just one wayward scientist to deal with, there are cars flying through the air, pieces of buildings doing the same, civilians running while screaming at the top of their lungs, and of course, the Hulk himself. Janet’s already calling in for S.H.I.E.L.D. to come in and deal with the rest of the mess while Tony’s getting suited up in the back of the quin. Cap, Thor, and Pym are out doing what crowd control they can before Tony and Jan finish and they regroup outside. The Hulk’s attention is being held by a few of the local LEO’s who are brave enough (or stupid enough, because to be perfectly honest it could go either way at this point) to try and shoot at him.
“How are we supposed to stop him?” Jan asks in a hushed voice, understandably intimidated because really. The photos don’t do it justice.
Captain America (who stands as if he’s posing for a recruitment poster, and the fact that it’s Captain America starts to actually sink in) casts a calculating eye toward him. “We’ll just have to get his attention and-“
“Piece of cake,” Tony replies lazily, and before Cap can say anything else, he’s sending a repulsor beam at the back of the thing’s head. The behemoth stumbles forward a step, but recovers much more quickly than Tony would have expected, and then turns, teeth bared and definitely not happy. Tony still has his arm raised and his palm’s still glowing and the Hulk seems to notice all of this as it starts barreling directly towards him.
“…I was going to say ‘and try and calm him down’.” Captain gives Iron Man a look as if he’d brought home a failed test and your mother and I are very disappointed in you, son, you know better than that.
“…Oops?” That’s all they have time for because now they’re all scrambling to get the hell out of the way except for Thor, because now he finally gets his chance to go to town. Tony might find the look on the Asgardian’s face when the Hulk tosses him like a rag doll funny, but for the tremendous feeling of ‘oh god, we are so unbelievably and irrevocably screwed’. And then Cap just races in, ducking underneath fists the size of Volkswagen Beetles to land a haymaker that probably would have snapped any other guy’s head off his shoulders. So naturally, the Hulk just blinks and kicks Steve through a plate glass window. The analytical part of his brain is noting the utter lack of teamwork going on here even as Tony flies forward, his chest plate humming with energy for a no-holds-barred blast. He doesn’t even get the shot in before he’s being backhanded through a wall and landing right next to Cap.
“Fuck… me,” he manages to rasp out as JARVIS lists the structural damage he’s just accrued, and he’s pretty sure there’s more than a few ribs that Pepper’s going to have to deal with when this is all over. He’s not looking forward to that harangue at all.
“Don’t swear,” comes from right next to him and Tony can’t believe this guy is still alive, let alone conscious enough to reprimand him about his language. Somehow Cap manages to get back on his feet and actually offers Tony a hand up, and Tony graciously declines because come on, Stark, you’re fighting alongside fucking Captain America, try not to be a total pussy about it. He’s about to ask what the hell they’re supposed to do now when the Hulk roars, making the rubble at their feet dance and their ears ringing even through layers of gold-titanium alloy.
“Now, Dr. Banner, please don’t do that again.”
Iron Man and Captain America stare at each other for a split second before rushing back onto the street only to find the Wasp standing calmly in front of the Hulk. Again, something that should be funny, seeing petite little Jan next to this jade giant. But after what that thing has just done to three of the most powerful men on this planet? Tony isn’t in a mood to laugh. Neither is Ant-Man, who looks ready to jump between the two (though Tony isn’t exactly sure that’d actually accomplish anything, but it’s pretty damn chivalrous of him anyway) until Janet gives him a reassuring wink over her shoulder before turning back to the Hulk.
“Please, Dr. Banner, we’re only trying to have a civilized conversation here. You know Hank over there is a scientist too, I’m sure you’ll have plenty to discuss once we get you back to our HQ in Los Angeles. Have you ever been to L.A., Doctor? Oh, you’ll love it there, it’s just fabulous~! Not really as big on the natural scenery as your little cabin, but there’s plenty to make up for it and the nightlife there is just-” She keeps chattering away at the thing, her voice light and playful and she laughs every now and again - it’s like she’s doing an interview for Entertainment Tonight instead of calming down a raging monster.
Tony doesn’t realize his jaw’s dropped until he realizes that huh, his chin is throbbing and his tongue’s getting a little dry, what’s that about. He flips open the faceplate to see this with his own eyes as he tries to massage the pain away - not the smartest idea when wearing metal gauntlets. “…Okay, ow.”
“You all right?” Steve asks concernedly, as if he doesn’t have a half-dozen shattered ribs of his own and probably severe internal damage. As Tony looks over, he notices that Cap doesn’t look like he’s got any of that going on, and the part of him silently moaning in pain starts on about how unfair that is. Cap smiles proudly, reading Tony’s face like a book, and pats his shield. “It’s saved my life a number of times before this, Mr. Stark,” he says as he slings it into position on his back. For once, Tony stows any smartass remark about it and simply nods in response, watching as Steve slowly walks over until he’s next to Jan. The Hulk snarls, obviously remembering him as an enemy, but Jan just mildly scolds him for having such bad manners and proceeds to introduce both Captain America and Ant-Man, who are just absolutely thrilled to meet you and so looking forward to working together. The monster swings its head down to get better looks at both men with Jan’s constant stream of talk filling in the background.
She catches his eye for a moment, but Tony gives a brief shake of the head - it was going so well, it’d be just plain stupid to jinx it now. And it’s smart for another reason when Thor comes crashing back from wherever it was that he’d been tossed. Tony barely manages to get there in time to restrain the god as the Hulk turns, a rumble starting in his chest. “Calm down there, big guy, no need for the heavy artillery anymore,” he grits out because shit, Thor is strong and his ribs are mounting a full-voiced protest to this ungentle behavior going on up in here.
“But the foul beast is fully capable of striking down yon comrades!” Thor retorts and he looks as if he’s ready to start throwing Tony around just to get at his target.
“STAND. DOWN. NOW.” Tony reinforces the order with as hard a punch as he can manage to the Asgardian’s shoulder. It isn’t much, given how he can feel himself tearing up from the pain and he can hear Hulk’s growling intensify and Jan’s tone is becoming slightly worried. Luckily for everyone, the blow is enough for Thor to stop for a second and notice just how the situation has changed and how Tony is about to fall on his ass from how much this fucking hurts.
“Friend Iron Man, you are gravely injured!” he exclaims, immediately moving to support him and Tony sees stars from the relief of no longer having to hold back someone with nigh-limitless strength. Said relief is only compounded as the Hulk stops growling and Jan’s voice goes back to normal.
Tony shuts his eyes as Thor eases him down on some rubble conveniently wrecked at waist height and manages a quick “thanks”, but he nearly shits himself when a resounding impact causes whatever glass that hasn’t already been broken to shiver and sing in their panes. When he opens his eyes, hands already clenched into fists and legs tensing to blast off (and his ribs once again tell him what a complete jackass he’s being for it), he’s expecting the worst - and so is very much taken aback at what he does see.
The Hulk, sitting in a newly made crater in the pavement from where he’d decided he’d much like to have a seat. Jan, of course, apologizes profusely that she couldn’t sit with him right now, the street is just much too dusty and I’d rather not ruin my brand new costume, I’m sure you’ll understand, I designed it myself after Hank here gave me my wings, and isn’t the color scheme just fabulous? Tony sighs, then tells JARVIS to fire up the quinjet and inform Fury they’d be back as soon as Banner could actually fit inside the cabin.
It takes another hour before the Hulk settles down enough to actually sleep, and another thirty minutes before changing back. After watching it, Tony’s really, really glad he’s not Bruce Banner because that transformation shit looks like it hurts. A lot. Steve scoops him up and carries him into the quinjet, strapping him in as Janet buzzes around his head, fretting over ‘the poor dear’. Tony snorts loudly when he hears that, then winces as a section of the chest plate comes off.
“Serves you right~,” Jan teases, her high-pitched voice in a singsong. “Karma’s out to get you~!”
“If karma was really out to get me, I’d probably get bitchslapped by a giant green monste- Oh, wait!” He rolls his eyes as he settles back into the pilot’s seat. “Quit being a gnat and buckle up already.”
He probably shouldn’t be surprised at the small sting he feels hit the back of his head, but he reaches up to swat at her anyway - forgetting that such reaching, sudden motions are not the best idea when dealing with broken ribs. Spots dance their way across his vision before a steadying hand claps gently onto his shoulder.
“Maybe you should let someone else drive?” Steve says, cowl pulled down around his neck and an eyebrow quirked up.
Tony’s mouth sours for a moment before leaning back and shutting his eyes. “Fine, Winghead, but you get a single scratch on her and you’ll rue the day.
“Of course, sir,” JARVIS dryly notes as the autopilot programming kicks in. “Because I’ve absolutely no experience with this sort of thing. At all.”
Tony arches an eyebrow of his own at the A.I.. “No respect. Why did I build you again?”
“To have a match for your own stunning personality, sir.”
“Ah, right. Carry on then.” He ignores the sigh from the dashboard and the chuckle from his right. “Let’s go home.”
They set Banner up in one of the research rooms in a sublevel of a Starktech facility on the outskirts of Los Angeles County. It’s a bitch of a commute, but Fury says (and for once, Tony wholeheartedly agrees with the man and the surprised not-glaring only lasts until Tony bats his eyes at the colonel) that nobody needs a Hulk crashing through downtown the minute he starts getting antsy. It’s for that reason that Tony’s also set up a sedative gas ready to pump in at the first sign of Banner losing it. No one knows how long he’s going to be out of it, so Tony lets everyone go relax for a bit while he gets comfortable in the command room. Or as comfortable as he can get with Pepper haranguing him and wrapping his torso with Ace bandages and damn it, Tony, you have to be careful out there (yes, mother). Then she’s off again, running the company for him while he’s out saving the world - or buying more of those strappy heels that just make her legs look fantasti- And he’s now focusing on the six different camera angles of the soundly sleeping scientist. Yes, completely focused. Ahem.
Though it’s not so sound because he can hear the guy whimpering in his sleep a little, and twitching slightly every now and again. Tony flips through the guy’s file for something to do (the rest of the room is clean, sterile white, bare of all furniture but a cot, and increasingly boring to look at and somehow Pepper’s managed to get JARVIS to block all the fun parts of the internet from this particular module, damn it all) but he keeps his nose out of the personnel profile they’d compiled back when he was still doing his gamma research and sticks mainly to the more recent stuff. The reports of the agents from Rio, the low quality cell video from Culver, the better quality ones confiscated from news choppers out of New York. Tony flicks his gaze back toward the screen a moment, still unable to really connect this scrawny Poindexter with the raw power he’s witnessed today firsthand.
All in all, it takes another six hours before the in-room gauges beep quietly as Banner’s heartbeat and brainwaves shift from ‘sleeping’ to ‘waking’. He groans as if he’s got a killer hangover, rolling onto his back on the medium-sized cot. It’s all very whatever for about another second longer - Banner bolts upright as if he’s been electrocuted and he’s swinging his head around, eyes shining with sheer, unadulterated terror. The monitors let off some more quiet but insistent beeps as he literally jumps out of bed, barely remembering to hold up what’s left of his pants with one hand. Tony’s just about to start the gas, which is exactly when Pepper walks in the room.
“Excuse me, Dr. Banner?” she asks politely (Tony starts cursing a mile a minute and he’s already putting some of Fury’s to good use) with that oh-so-reassuring smile on her face, like this is just another of Mr. Stark’s business colleagues after a rather wild night of corporate courting even though Tony knows she knows better. Banner is cowering in a corner, visibly shaking and staring at Potts as if she’s offering him the business end of a bazooka rather than a small pile of clothes. “I’m Virginia Potts, Mr. Stark’s personal assistant. I thought you might like to change before your appointment.” When Banner makes no attempt to move, she smoothly places them at the foot of the cot before straightening, still smiling. “There’s a small bathroom behind you if you’d like to freshen up, and if you require anything else, please let me know.” And just like that, she turns on her heel and walks out and Tony swears she’s deliberately smirking at the camera.
He catches her in the elevator, going down as she’s coming up, and she still has that goddamn smile on even as he’s glaring at her. He opens his mouth to tell her she’s fired for pulling a stunt like that but stops as the entire potential conversation plays in his head and she waits patiently, still smiling knowingly at him as she holds the doors open.
“Will that be all, Mr. Stark?” she asks, not a single trace of sarcasm in her voice that he can detect but he knows it’s there.
“…Yes, that will be all, Ms. Potts,” he says and she just walks on out, already talking to JARVIS about what’s next on the list. He takes a second to watch her walk away before punching the button with a little bit more force than is necessary. By the time he gets down to Banner’s level, the man’s already washed and dressed himself though he still looks like hell. Even so, he’s staring at the door where Pepper exited and Tony enters. He cuts Tony off before he even has a chance to toss out any of the formalities.
“Let me go.”
“What, you’re gonna get down to brass tacks right away?” Tony shakes his head. ”Where’s the manners? You just jump straight to the end without even letting me do my Brando impersonation. And after all the trouble we’ve gone through to get you here. Very rude, Brucie.”
“Please let me go?” Banner fidgets for a minute, and then he’s babbling and his eyes keep darting to the door as if it’s the gates to Heaven itself but curfew’s about to be called. “I don’t know what Ross has told you after what happened last time, but he let me go because he knew he was wrong and I-I-I just have to be alone until I can stop this, you don’t understand what you’re dealing with he-”
“Okay, enough already!” Tony says, shutting Banner down mid-frenzied-word. “Calm down, or else we’re going to have to sedate you because I am really not looking to be smacked around twice in one day.” It’s enough to get Banner to shut up, but he keeps glancing back at that damn door. “And quit that,” Tony retorts as he rolls his eyes. “You’re more than a few feet underground here with best security system in the goddamn world between you and the outside so just sit down and listen, and then we can get all finished and get some celebratory drinks. Okay? Okay.”
Banner looks at Stark like he’s out of his mind, and there’s a visible shift in the way he’s standing. Tony’s first impression of the guy was simple: a scrawny little nerd with green PMS. Now, he amends that because oh, it’s getting obvious - Bruce Banner is a bitch.
“Do, do you really think that I’m just going to let the Army use me as some kind of lab rat just because you’re, you’re what. Asking nicely after finally catching me? Well, no. Just so much no, and I’m not going to change my mind because there’s nothing you can say that can make me change my mind. So. No. …Again. ……Yes.”
“See, there you go again with the jumping to conclusions when there’s so many things that you’re not even considering,” he replies with a very long-suffering sigh. “Do you see any kind of uniforms around here? Or that schmuck, Ross? This isn’t a military op anymore, bucko, so untwist that particular section of your panties.”
“I’m not stupid,” Banner bites back. “You’re Tony Stark. Pretty much the Army’s biggest contractor for the last fifteen years. And Ross is probably out there, somewhere, smoking on that cigar of his and.” He waves a hand, eyes darting up and around, picking out the security cameras one by one. “So, stop. All right? Just stop.”
“You know, you’re absurdly paranoid,” he notes, leaning against the wall as he tells his ribs that he’ll get a couple nice bottles of aged scotch to numb them later if they’ll just shut the fuck up for the time being.
Banner shoots him a withering look, and despite the fact he’s obviously trying his best not to let it, the exhaustion seeps into his voice. “Paranoia implies an irrational fear. Last I checked, there were still people after me.”
“If your Army theory was right, do you really think that I’d be sitting here chatting you up, or would there be a half dozen Marines aiming at you if you so much as sneezed instead.” A flash of genuine sheepishness before Banner crosses his arms defensively, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. Tony pushes the advantage while he has it and before Banner can get a contrary word in edgewise. “So why not stop running? We’ve got a team here, with a spot open just for you.”
The scientist stares for a good long moment before suspiciously asking, “…What kind of team. Exactly.”
“Heroes,” Tony replies and for once, he’s not bringing the bullshit because this is something he truly believes is the right thing to do and it’s a sweeter high than any cocktail he’s ever had. So of course, he covers up that wholehearted belief with slabs of Stark brand snark. “You know, world peace, protecting the innocent, all that jazz.”
He’s still somewhat in touch with that high, which is probably the reason he doesn’t immediately rip Bruce a new one for practically laughing in his face.
“You’re, I mean, you’re joking, right? What happened, did you like. Wake up one morning, and, and. Just decide that being the basic textbook definition of ‘billionaire playboy’ wasn’t cutting it anymore? Is that how it works?” Banner doesn’t really have the face to pull off this kind of sarcasm, but he gets points for trying anyway, but minus those points and a few besides for generally being a bitch at the point in time. Which just makes Tony consider putting the whole of the Avengers on a point-based system as it’d probably make things go much, much more smoothly.
“War changes a man, Banner,” he says, and he’s keeping his face straight on because he hasn’t even said that much to Pepper or Rhodey about what happened in the caves. “If you’d been keeping any kind of tabs on the news…”
Banner pinches the bridge of his nose, then pulls his hand down across his mouth and the next time he opens his eyes, he’s giving Stark a very exasperated stare. “Humor me for just a second here, all right, and pretend that I haven’t had the luxury of grabbing a peek at CNN for the past, oh, five or six years. Now, keeping that in mind, please, tell me why Tony Stark, of all people, is gunning for world peace.”
Tony blinks, and for once in his charmed life, can’t think of anything to say. “…Because, uh. Er.” The silence grows longer. “Listen, Bruce, I’m leveling with you here. We’ve got a responsibility to use these gifts we’ve been given for the good of people.” So stop being a pain in the ass and get on board with this. But Tony feels adding that part would be just slightly counterproductive.
“Okay,” Banner starts as if he’s speaking to a developmentally challenged child. “I’m just. I have to ignore how you just called this... This thing inside me, that monster, some kind of gift. Because it’s not. It’s a-a-a-a disease, a menace that needs to be stopped, and I’m not going to stop working until I find a cure for it.”
“See, now that’s where I gotta interject and say that’s when we’re gonna start fucking with you if you do that,” Tony says with a shake of his head. “You want your little house on the prairie in the middle of nowhere, too bad, boo fucking hoo, life isn’t fair. I need the green guy and that’s how it’s gonna be.”
“I thought you were giving me a choice here,” he replies with bitter sarcasm, eyes rolling.
“Yeah, and the choice is us or them. Because they are pretty much convinced you need to be filed under ‘weapons containment’ for the rest of your now-unnatural life, whereas we, over here,” and he gestures to demonstrate the little circle of here they have going on, “are offering you a nice, cool, refreshing glass of humanity. And y’know, the most advanced laboratories in the history of ever that would then be at your disposal for whatever science project that tickles your fancy.”
Banner shakes his head, and it’s half determination, half desperation. “No. No. I am not going to give myself up just so you can let me out of my cage whenever you need that thing. You’re the same as Ross, that’s all this is, and if you think you’re not, then you’re even more insane than he is.” Tony opens his mouth to retort, but he’s cut off with another stare. “And it doesn’t matter what you do or say, because the first time I have an episode, I’ll be out of here and so far gone you won’t ever find me again, that I can guarantee you, and then you’ll see just why I need to fix this.”
“Come on, Doctor,” Tony rolls his eyes and mentally tells Banner just where he can shove this overdeveloped melodrama bullshit, “we’ve fully ensured the proper preventative measures if you decide to get anxious and have a panic attack.”
“‘Decide to get anxious’? You just- God, you just do not get this at all.” Banner splutters for a few seconds more before he calms down enough to speak clearly. “Look, let me just. Since I obviously haven’t made it clear enough for you to get yet, here it is again. No, n-o, no. Even if I wanted to join up, which I don’t, I am not a hero. I’m so not a hero, it’s leagues beyond not being funny. So good luck, best wishes with the whole superhero thing, but go find yourself some other idiot stupid enough to blast himself with gamma radiation for your little team.”
Tony stands there for a second, and the quiet stretches until he finally turns his back on Banner. “Fine, have it your way,” he says. “Door’s that way, don’t let it hit you on the way out. Have a nice life.”
He doesn’t even have to look back to know what Banner’s face is looking like right now - he can hear it all in the man’s voice. “…W-wait. That’s it? After all that, you’re… You’re really letting me go?” Confusion. Suspicion. And just the slightest bit of hope.
He’s halfway out the door when he turns to face the good doctor. “Yeah huh,” he says, the utter portrait of nonchalance. “Hey, JARVIS, help Dr. Banner with his travel plans, will you? I gotta talk with Fury about putting the backup plan in place, you understand, don’t you, Doc? Things to do, idiots to line up, busy stuff.” A sardonic little smile as JARVIS acknowledges, and Tony gives it five seconds before Banner goes exactly where he wants him to.
Tony should have known better - barely two pass before: “What, uh. What backup plan?” Banner asks the question, hope gone now and double the suspicion to make up for it.
“Just taking your advice,” he replies innocently as Banner blinks in confusion, then pales when he realizes what Tony’s saying.
“…No. N-no, I-I-I was being sarcastic just now, you can’t. You can’t seriously be considering…” He can’t even bring himself to say it out loud, and Tony’s got him now, all he has to do is reel Banner in and fry him up for fishsticks.
Tony shrugs, fingers tapping against the doorframe. “Hell of a thing to joke about, you know. But it doesn’t matter either way. We’ve got the tech and the know-how, and I’m sure we can drum up a volunteer or ten.”
The look on Banner’s face is almost enough to make Tony feel bad about being a manipulative douche. Almost. “But, but…,” his voice is shaking along with the rest of him now and he’s staring at Tony, eyes pleading with him to see reason. “But nobody knows what happened that day, what went wrong, or why I reacted the way I did! By all rights I should have died of radiation poisoning right then and there, and-and… You can’t just line people up to try and z-zap at them until you get results you’re looking for-!”
He waits until Banner’s talked himself out, all the while keeping his face schooled in a careful mask of ‘and I should care… Why?’. “You almost done there, ‘cause I’m kind of on a timetable.”
Banner’s managed to pace himself to the middle of the room with all of his freaking out and he just stares at Tony. His face and knees crumple at the same time, leaving his head to hang between his shoulders just as he sits down. Then, so softly Tony almost misses it, “…I’ll do it.”
Tony grins in triumph. “See, now was that really so hard?”
“You’re a real bastard. You know that, right?”
“Takes all kinds to save the world, kiddo.”
-❖-❖-❖-
OKAY CALLING FINISHED... For this part. Expect definite sequels for this fic, because the ideas just won't stop coming.
Author: fribbled
Word Count: 6486
Rating: PG-13
CHARACTERS: Tony Stark ; Nick Fury ; JARVIS ; Pepper Potts ; Steve Rogers ; Janet van Dyne; Thor ; Hank Pym ; Bruce Banner
Warnings: Some language, Tony being a dick, lots of run-on mental narrative side trips, Tony getting backhanded through a building... Same old, same old. Oh, and shameless pirating off of Kari's the_ironman because she is THAT damn good.
Summary/Description: Nick Fury wants Tony Stark to put together a team, but not all the recruits are particularly gung-ho about the prospect. Since the Avengers movie isn't coming out until FOREVER 2014, I figured I might as well give a shot at predicting how it'll go. Tony's POV, with a big emphasis on Tony+Bruce in that they are so Marvel's new Odd Couple. Only with more bastardy.
-❖-❖-❖-
When Fury first slides over the two dossiers, Tony is only half listening. The other half is wondering who the hell would codename a military operation Hulkbuster. Probably the same schmucks who thought up Iron Man. But at least Iron Man was better than Hulkbuster - hell, there was even a kickass rock classic already made up that he could use as a theme song (he makes a mental note to get JARVIS on getting the rights for that, right after beefing up his anti-hacker protocols enough to make Arnold Schwarzenegger look like Christopher Walken).
But then he opens the file, TOP SECRET everywhere as if the guy with the stamp had something to prove, and he rolls his eyes at the commanding officer because now the name makes sense. Thaddeus Ross. He’d done a few weapons tests for the guy, and he was so damn picky all the time. Well, pickier than your average general wanting the best from the best, if Tony does say so himself - which he does, and often. He skims over the lines of text (gamma radiation, blah blah blah, great progress, yadda yadda yadda, unexpected results, I don’t care, et cetera) and he’s still tuning Fury out because it’s all the same bull. Or at least he thinks so until he grabs a peek at the photos. He brings them in closer, disinterest gone in the flash of suspicion and professional scrutiny. A lifetime of tabloid covers has given him an expert eye in photo manipulation (not that Tony does more than enough to keep them coming without the help of Photoshop), and gives Fury a hard look.
“…This isn’t bullshit, is it?” It’s more statement than question, but the colonel (though he’s probably got enough security clearance for a dozen brigadier generals) just gives him a Look that makes it damned clear that he doesn’t waste his time with bullshit. Tony goes through the rest of the pictures and it’s enough to make him actually read the actual report. There’s a slight chill that this thing, this “Hulk” as it’s been dubbed (another roll of the eyes for Ross), has been rampaging around for over five years with no word had getting out. It gives him a much better sense of how good S.H.I.E.L.D. really is. Of course, when the second file gets checked out, Tony gives Fury a Look of his own, eyebrow cocked and mouth quirked in a “come on” smirk.
“Okay. Now I know you’re shitting me.” He displays the wallet-sized picture of Bruce Banner, face grinning at the camera, eyes crinkling with laughter and arm slung around someone who’s since been cut out as unnecessary. “There is no way in hell, none, that this little geeker dweeb turns into that.”
Fury just continues glaring, and Tony wonders for a split second if the man has any other expression. “That ‘geeker dweeb’,” he says harshly, “is responsible for at least half a dozen deaths that we know of. Probably more since he’s fallen off the radar, and-”
“Whoa, whoa, time out, partner,” he interrupts, ignoring how the other man seems to have gotten even angrier at being cut off, which is rather impressive as Tony was quite certain he’d hit his limit. Then again, that was Tony’s real superpower. “How could you possibly lose something like this? It’s not as if it lends itself to stealth, you know. Being big and green kind of nixes that out.”
“And since you’ve agreed to our little venture,” Fury just plows on, and Tony thinks that’s rather rude, but not as rude as possibly having his home tactically nuked (and he’s pretty sure, no, he knows this guy would do it and be able to get away with it), “you’ll be the one in charge of getting him to agree as well.”
“…What, that’s it?”
“You’ll have to find him first, Stark.”
Tony has just finished recovering from that commencement speech at Harvard or Yale or whichever college it was, it hardly mattered when you were invited to at least five fraternities’ graduation keggers after the fact. At least he thinks it was five, after the fourth things got a little spotty. But Wolf Blitzer is on the television, reviewing the monster sighting at Culver University a few days ago (so that’s where those sonic cannons ended up, I was wondering about those) while Anderson Cooper is broadcasting live from in front of the Apollo Theater even as construction crews and policemen try to deal with the complete wreckage behind him. Tony’s smirking even before Pepper comes down into the garage to inform him that Colonel Fury is on the line for you, sir, and I don’t think he’s in the best of moods.
Pepper always has a fabulous talent for understatement - Fury cusses so hard and so fast that Tony feels as if his ears have been physically violated. At least until he starts hearing swears he’d never imagined in his life and then he’s just trying to remember the better ones for his own personal use.
Forty-five minutes later, he’s taking notes even as JARVIS gets the satellites tracking the trail Banner left from New York to wherever he’s going in place and Pepper books him a flight to Newark. After all (as Fury puts it in much more colorful terms), who better to cruise the bars to find Ross’ pity party?
It takes time. Between all these Russians suddenly taking a sharp interest in him, acclimating a former patriotic popsicle to the twenty-first century, and a frigging god deciding he wanted to spend some quality time among these lesser mortals, it’s a while before Tony even starts on a plan for getting Banner. He hasn’t been slacking on the job, of course not, despite what Fury has to say on the subject. And he’s been getting earfuls on the subject day in, day out, night in, night out, and that’s a surefire way to kill the mood, bring home a girl and there’s an angry black cyclops ready to curse you out making himself right at home on your very expensive couch. He has satellites watching the guy 24/7, with daily reports on what he does. Real mundane stuff - feeding his chickens, walking through the woods, meditating next to the little waterfall by the little cabin.
Tony’s learned this much, at least: if he ever needs a vacation that’ll bore him to death, he’ll be going to British Columbia.
There’s quite a bit of discussion about just how to approach the man. Cap keeps talking about going out to meet him face to face, never mind it’s a bit of a hike (Tony and Janet shared a horrified glance at that because goddamn that is nowhere near what either would call a “bit”, or even a “hike” - it’s more along the lines of “why the hell can’t we just forget it, it’s that far”). Thor just wants something to happen already because the guy may be immortal but he’s more than a little short on patience. Hank starts going on about something but takes so damn long to get to the point that eventually Tony just tells everyone to be quiet and gives them the game plan. It’s pretty much their plans all smushed together, but that doesn’t matter because it was his idea to use their ideas in this way in the first place. Besides, he’s been itching to take out the new prototype quinjet out for a ride.
Even at mach speeds, the flight takes too damn long (Thor starts complaining about how he would be able to get there faster, Janet starts hitting on Pym, Pym gets all flustered and attempts several times to change the subject to something more inane like ‘wow, those are some pretty clouds out there, huh’, and Cap is sitting very still as if the slightest bit of movement will cause the plane to just stop working). Tony lands it - perfectly, he might add - in the clearing right in front of the Jolly Green Geek’s cabin, strutting out as if expecting there to be several dozen photographers waiting, shutters clicking (it gets to be a habit, what can he say). The rest follow him out and he’s just about to knock on the door when Janet clears her throat politely.
“Tony.”
He sighs because come on, can they not get this over and done with and get back to civilization already. “What is it, Jan?”
When he turns around, Jan is pointing at the wall of the valley behind the cabin and… Yep, right there through a break in the trees is a little dot moving pretty quickly up and over the ridge. It’s a moot point, but Tony peeks in through a window to check that the place has been packed up in a real big hurry.
“Huh,” he says thoughtfully. “Guess those engines are louder than I thought. I’ll get R&D on fixing that soon as we get back. Everybody, back on the plane. Come on, kids, scoot!”
It takes a few minutes before Cap and Thor’s objections to being labeled as “kids” are dealt with, and a few more to explain that Jesus H. Christ, it’s just a figure of speech. Then another ten minutes as Steve Rogers lectures him on taking the Lord’s name in vain and swearing in general.
And somewhere between wanting to introduce his face to his palm and actually hearing himself apologize for his swearing, Tony realizes that he isn’t the guy in charge of this team anymore. And what’s more is that he doesn’t mind it all that much. But Tony’s always been about dealing with one thing at a time and he’ll deal with all that after they get Banner.
But damn it, he makes sure that he gets on the plane ahead of Steve because epiphany or no, he’s still Tony fucking Stark and this is still his quinjet.
Tony is treated to another three lectures before they catch up with Banner (one from JARVIS, one from Pepper after JARVIS updates her on the situation, and one from Fury but Tony hangs up on that one as soon as he hears who’s on the line) and he’s starting to have a grudging respect for Banner being able to run this far and this fast.
Or maybe it’s extreme annoyance. Whatever.
Because somehow between crossing over from British Columbia to Alberta, someone was stupid enough to piss Banner off. So now instead of just one wayward scientist to deal with, there are cars flying through the air, pieces of buildings doing the same, civilians running while screaming at the top of their lungs, and of course, the Hulk himself. Janet’s already calling in for S.H.I.E.L.D. to come in and deal with the rest of the mess while Tony’s getting suited up in the back of the quin. Cap, Thor, and Pym are out doing what crowd control they can before Tony and Jan finish and they regroup outside. The Hulk’s attention is being held by a few of the local LEO’s who are brave enough (or stupid enough, because to be perfectly honest it could go either way at this point) to try and shoot at him.
“How are we supposed to stop him?” Jan asks in a hushed voice, understandably intimidated because really. The photos don’t do it justice.
Captain America (who stands as if he’s posing for a recruitment poster, and the fact that it’s Captain America starts to actually sink in) casts a calculating eye toward him. “We’ll just have to get his attention and-“
“Piece of cake,” Tony replies lazily, and before Cap can say anything else, he’s sending a repulsor beam at the back of the thing’s head. The behemoth stumbles forward a step, but recovers much more quickly than Tony would have expected, and then turns, teeth bared and definitely not happy. Tony still has his arm raised and his palm’s still glowing and the Hulk seems to notice all of this as it starts barreling directly towards him.
“…I was going to say ‘and try and calm him down’.” Captain gives Iron Man a look as if he’d brought home a failed test and your mother and I are very disappointed in you, son, you know better than that.
“…Oops?” That’s all they have time for because now they’re all scrambling to get the hell out of the way except for Thor, because now he finally gets his chance to go to town. Tony might find the look on the Asgardian’s face when the Hulk tosses him like a rag doll funny, but for the tremendous feeling of ‘oh god, we are so unbelievably and irrevocably screwed’. And then Cap just races in, ducking underneath fists the size of Volkswagen Beetles to land a haymaker that probably would have snapped any other guy’s head off his shoulders. So naturally, the Hulk just blinks and kicks Steve through a plate glass window. The analytical part of his brain is noting the utter lack of teamwork going on here even as Tony flies forward, his chest plate humming with energy for a no-holds-barred blast. He doesn’t even get the shot in before he’s being backhanded through a wall and landing right next to Cap.
“Fuck… me,” he manages to rasp out as JARVIS lists the structural damage he’s just accrued, and he’s pretty sure there’s more than a few ribs that Pepper’s going to have to deal with when this is all over. He’s not looking forward to that harangue at all.
“Don’t swear,” comes from right next to him and Tony can’t believe this guy is still alive, let alone conscious enough to reprimand him about his language. Somehow Cap manages to get back on his feet and actually offers Tony a hand up, and Tony graciously declines because come on, Stark, you’re fighting alongside fucking Captain America, try not to be a total pussy about it. He’s about to ask what the hell they’re supposed to do now when the Hulk roars, making the rubble at their feet dance and their ears ringing even through layers of gold-titanium alloy.
“Now, Dr. Banner, please don’t do that again.”
Iron Man and Captain America stare at each other for a split second before rushing back onto the street only to find the Wasp standing calmly in front of the Hulk. Again, something that should be funny, seeing petite little Jan next to this jade giant. But after what that thing has just done to three of the most powerful men on this planet? Tony isn’t in a mood to laugh. Neither is Ant-Man, who looks ready to jump between the two (though Tony isn’t exactly sure that’d actually accomplish anything, but it’s pretty damn chivalrous of him anyway) until Janet gives him a reassuring wink over her shoulder before turning back to the Hulk.
“Please, Dr. Banner, we’re only trying to have a civilized conversation here. You know Hank over there is a scientist too, I’m sure you’ll have plenty to discuss once we get you back to our HQ in Los Angeles. Have you ever been to L.A., Doctor? Oh, you’ll love it there, it’s just fabulous~! Not really as big on the natural scenery as your little cabin, but there’s plenty to make up for it and the nightlife there is just-” She keeps chattering away at the thing, her voice light and playful and she laughs every now and again - it’s like she’s doing an interview for Entertainment Tonight instead of calming down a raging monster.
Tony doesn’t realize his jaw’s dropped until he realizes that huh, his chin is throbbing and his tongue’s getting a little dry, what’s that about. He flips open the faceplate to see this with his own eyes as he tries to massage the pain away - not the smartest idea when wearing metal gauntlets. “…Okay, ow.”
“You all right?” Steve asks concernedly, as if he doesn’t have a half-dozen shattered ribs of his own and probably severe internal damage. As Tony looks over, he notices that Cap doesn’t look like he’s got any of that going on, and the part of him silently moaning in pain starts on about how unfair that is. Cap smiles proudly, reading Tony’s face like a book, and pats his shield. “It’s saved my life a number of times before this, Mr. Stark,” he says as he slings it into position on his back. For once, Tony stows any smartass remark about it and simply nods in response, watching as Steve slowly walks over until he’s next to Jan. The Hulk snarls, obviously remembering him as an enemy, but Jan just mildly scolds him for having such bad manners and proceeds to introduce both Captain America and Ant-Man, who are just absolutely thrilled to meet you and so looking forward to working together. The monster swings its head down to get better looks at both men with Jan’s constant stream of talk filling in the background.
She catches his eye for a moment, but Tony gives a brief shake of the head - it was going so well, it’d be just plain stupid to jinx it now. And it’s smart for another reason when Thor comes crashing back from wherever it was that he’d been tossed. Tony barely manages to get there in time to restrain the god as the Hulk turns, a rumble starting in his chest. “Calm down there, big guy, no need for the heavy artillery anymore,” he grits out because shit, Thor is strong and his ribs are mounting a full-voiced protest to this ungentle behavior going on up in here.
“But the foul beast is fully capable of striking down yon comrades!” Thor retorts and he looks as if he’s ready to start throwing Tony around just to get at his target.
“STAND. DOWN. NOW.” Tony reinforces the order with as hard a punch as he can manage to the Asgardian’s shoulder. It isn’t much, given how he can feel himself tearing up from the pain and he can hear Hulk’s growling intensify and Jan’s tone is becoming slightly worried. Luckily for everyone, the blow is enough for Thor to stop for a second and notice just how the situation has changed and how Tony is about to fall on his ass from how much this fucking hurts.
“Friend Iron Man, you are gravely injured!” he exclaims, immediately moving to support him and Tony sees stars from the relief of no longer having to hold back someone with nigh-limitless strength. Said relief is only compounded as the Hulk stops growling and Jan’s voice goes back to normal.
Tony shuts his eyes as Thor eases him down on some rubble conveniently wrecked at waist height and manages a quick “thanks”, but he nearly shits himself when a resounding impact causes whatever glass that hasn’t already been broken to shiver and sing in their panes. When he opens his eyes, hands already clenched into fists and legs tensing to blast off (and his ribs once again tell him what a complete jackass he’s being for it), he’s expecting the worst - and so is very much taken aback at what he does see.
The Hulk, sitting in a newly made crater in the pavement from where he’d decided he’d much like to have a seat. Jan, of course, apologizes profusely that she couldn’t sit with him right now, the street is just much too dusty and I’d rather not ruin my brand new costume, I’m sure you’ll understand, I designed it myself after Hank here gave me my wings, and isn’t the color scheme just fabulous? Tony sighs, then tells JARVIS to fire up the quinjet and inform Fury they’d be back as soon as Banner could actually fit inside the cabin.
It takes another hour before the Hulk settles down enough to actually sleep, and another thirty minutes before changing back. After watching it, Tony’s really, really glad he’s not Bruce Banner because that transformation shit looks like it hurts. A lot. Steve scoops him up and carries him into the quinjet, strapping him in as Janet buzzes around his head, fretting over ‘the poor dear’. Tony snorts loudly when he hears that, then winces as a section of the chest plate comes off.
“Serves you right~,” Jan teases, her high-pitched voice in a singsong. “Karma’s out to get you~!”
“If karma was really out to get me, I’d probably get bitchslapped by a giant green monste- Oh, wait!” He rolls his eyes as he settles back into the pilot’s seat. “Quit being a gnat and buckle up already.”
He probably shouldn’t be surprised at the small sting he feels hit the back of his head, but he reaches up to swat at her anyway - forgetting that such reaching, sudden motions are not the best idea when dealing with broken ribs. Spots dance their way across his vision before a steadying hand claps gently onto his shoulder.
“Maybe you should let someone else drive?” Steve says, cowl pulled down around his neck and an eyebrow quirked up.
Tony’s mouth sours for a moment before leaning back and shutting his eyes. “Fine, Winghead, but you get a single scratch on her and you’ll rue the day.
“Of course, sir,” JARVIS dryly notes as the autopilot programming kicks in. “Because I’ve absolutely no experience with this sort of thing. At all.”
Tony arches an eyebrow of his own at the A.I.. “No respect. Why did I build you again?”
“To have a match for your own stunning personality, sir.”
“Ah, right. Carry on then.” He ignores the sigh from the dashboard and the chuckle from his right. “Let’s go home.”
They set Banner up in one of the research rooms in a sublevel of a Starktech facility on the outskirts of Los Angeles County. It’s a bitch of a commute, but Fury says (and for once, Tony wholeheartedly agrees with the man and the surprised not-glaring only lasts until Tony bats his eyes at the colonel) that nobody needs a Hulk crashing through downtown the minute he starts getting antsy. It’s for that reason that Tony’s also set up a sedative gas ready to pump in at the first sign of Banner losing it. No one knows how long he’s going to be out of it, so Tony lets everyone go relax for a bit while he gets comfortable in the command room. Or as comfortable as he can get with Pepper haranguing him and wrapping his torso with Ace bandages and damn it, Tony, you have to be careful out there (yes, mother). Then she’s off again, running the company for him while he’s out saving the world - or buying more of those strappy heels that just make her legs look fantasti- And he’s now focusing on the six different camera angles of the soundly sleeping scientist. Yes, completely focused. Ahem.
Though it’s not so sound because he can hear the guy whimpering in his sleep a little, and twitching slightly every now and again. Tony flips through the guy’s file for something to do (the rest of the room is clean, sterile white, bare of all furniture but a cot, and increasingly boring to look at and somehow Pepper’s managed to get JARVIS to block all the fun parts of the internet from this particular module, damn it all) but he keeps his nose out of the personnel profile they’d compiled back when he was still doing his gamma research and sticks mainly to the more recent stuff. The reports of the agents from Rio, the low quality cell video from Culver, the better quality ones confiscated from news choppers out of New York. Tony flicks his gaze back toward the screen a moment, still unable to really connect this scrawny Poindexter with the raw power he’s witnessed today firsthand.
All in all, it takes another six hours before the in-room gauges beep quietly as Banner’s heartbeat and brainwaves shift from ‘sleeping’ to ‘waking’. He groans as if he’s got a killer hangover, rolling onto his back on the medium-sized cot. It’s all very whatever for about another second longer - Banner bolts upright as if he’s been electrocuted and he’s swinging his head around, eyes shining with sheer, unadulterated terror. The monitors let off some more quiet but insistent beeps as he literally jumps out of bed, barely remembering to hold up what’s left of his pants with one hand. Tony’s just about to start the gas, which is exactly when Pepper walks in the room.
“Excuse me, Dr. Banner?” she asks politely (Tony starts cursing a mile a minute and he’s already putting some of Fury’s to good use) with that oh-so-reassuring smile on her face, like this is just another of Mr. Stark’s business colleagues after a rather wild night of corporate courting even though Tony knows she knows better. Banner is cowering in a corner, visibly shaking and staring at Potts as if she’s offering him the business end of a bazooka rather than a small pile of clothes. “I’m Virginia Potts, Mr. Stark’s personal assistant. I thought you might like to change before your appointment.” When Banner makes no attempt to move, she smoothly places them at the foot of the cot before straightening, still smiling. “There’s a small bathroom behind you if you’d like to freshen up, and if you require anything else, please let me know.” And just like that, she turns on her heel and walks out and Tony swears she’s deliberately smirking at the camera.
He catches her in the elevator, going down as she’s coming up, and she still has that goddamn smile on even as he’s glaring at her. He opens his mouth to tell her she’s fired for pulling a stunt like that but stops as the entire potential conversation plays in his head and she waits patiently, still smiling knowingly at him as she holds the doors open.
“Will that be all, Mr. Stark?” she asks, not a single trace of sarcasm in her voice that he can detect but he knows it’s there.
“…Yes, that will be all, Ms. Potts,” he says and she just walks on out, already talking to JARVIS about what’s next on the list. He takes a second to watch her walk away before punching the button with a little bit more force than is necessary. By the time he gets down to Banner’s level, the man’s already washed and dressed himself though he still looks like hell. Even so, he’s staring at the door where Pepper exited and Tony enters. He cuts Tony off before he even has a chance to toss out any of the formalities.
“Let me go.”
“What, you’re gonna get down to brass tacks right away?” Tony shakes his head. ”Where’s the manners? You just jump straight to the end without even letting me do my Brando impersonation. And after all the trouble we’ve gone through to get you here. Very rude, Brucie.”
“Please let me go?” Banner fidgets for a minute, and then he’s babbling and his eyes keep darting to the door as if it’s the gates to Heaven itself but curfew’s about to be called. “I don’t know what Ross has told you after what happened last time, but he let me go because he knew he was wrong and I-I-I just have to be alone until I can stop this, you don’t understand what you’re dealing with he-”
“Okay, enough already!” Tony says, shutting Banner down mid-frenzied-word. “Calm down, or else we’re going to have to sedate you because I am really not looking to be smacked around twice in one day.” It’s enough to get Banner to shut up, but he keeps glancing back at that damn door. “And quit that,” Tony retorts as he rolls his eyes. “You’re more than a few feet underground here with best security system in the goddamn world between you and the outside so just sit down and listen, and then we can get all finished and get some celebratory drinks. Okay? Okay.”
Banner looks at Stark like he’s out of his mind, and there’s a visible shift in the way he’s standing. Tony’s first impression of the guy was simple: a scrawny little nerd with green PMS. Now, he amends that because oh, it’s getting obvious - Bruce Banner is a bitch.
“Do, do you really think that I’m just going to let the Army use me as some kind of lab rat just because you’re, you’re what. Asking nicely after finally catching me? Well, no. Just so much no, and I’m not going to change my mind because there’s nothing you can say that can make me change my mind. So. No. …Again. ……Yes.”
“See, there you go again with the jumping to conclusions when there’s so many things that you’re not even considering,” he replies with a very long-suffering sigh. “Do you see any kind of uniforms around here? Or that schmuck, Ross? This isn’t a military op anymore, bucko, so untwist that particular section of your panties.”
“I’m not stupid,” Banner bites back. “You’re Tony Stark. Pretty much the Army’s biggest contractor for the last fifteen years. And Ross is probably out there, somewhere, smoking on that cigar of his and.” He waves a hand, eyes darting up and around, picking out the security cameras one by one. “So, stop. All right? Just stop.”
“You know, you’re absurdly paranoid,” he notes, leaning against the wall as he tells his ribs that he’ll get a couple nice bottles of aged scotch to numb them later if they’ll just shut the fuck up for the time being.
Banner shoots him a withering look, and despite the fact he’s obviously trying his best not to let it, the exhaustion seeps into his voice. “Paranoia implies an irrational fear. Last I checked, there were still people after me.”
“If your Army theory was right, do you really think that I’d be sitting here chatting you up, or would there be a half dozen Marines aiming at you if you so much as sneezed instead.” A flash of genuine sheepishness before Banner crosses his arms defensively, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. Tony pushes the advantage while he has it and before Banner can get a contrary word in edgewise. “So why not stop running? We’ve got a team here, with a spot open just for you.”
The scientist stares for a good long moment before suspiciously asking, “…What kind of team. Exactly.”
“Heroes,” Tony replies and for once, he’s not bringing the bullshit because this is something he truly believes is the right thing to do and it’s a sweeter high than any cocktail he’s ever had. So of course, he covers up that wholehearted belief with slabs of Stark brand snark. “You know, world peace, protecting the innocent, all that jazz.”
He’s still somewhat in touch with that high, which is probably the reason he doesn’t immediately rip Bruce a new one for practically laughing in his face.
“You’re, I mean, you’re joking, right? What happened, did you like. Wake up one morning, and, and. Just decide that being the basic textbook definition of ‘billionaire playboy’ wasn’t cutting it anymore? Is that how it works?” Banner doesn’t really have the face to pull off this kind of sarcasm, but he gets points for trying anyway, but minus those points and a few besides for generally being a bitch at the point in time. Which just makes Tony consider putting the whole of the Avengers on a point-based system as it’d probably make things go much, much more smoothly.
“War changes a man, Banner,” he says, and he’s keeping his face straight on because he hasn’t even said that much to Pepper or Rhodey about what happened in the caves. “If you’d been keeping any kind of tabs on the news…”
Banner pinches the bridge of his nose, then pulls his hand down across his mouth and the next time he opens his eyes, he’s giving Stark a very exasperated stare. “Humor me for just a second here, all right, and pretend that I haven’t had the luxury of grabbing a peek at CNN for the past, oh, five or six years. Now, keeping that in mind, please, tell me why Tony Stark, of all people, is gunning for world peace.”
Tony blinks, and for once in his charmed life, can’t think of anything to say. “…Because, uh. Er.” The silence grows longer. “Listen, Bruce, I’m leveling with you here. We’ve got a responsibility to use these gifts we’ve been given for the good of people.” So stop being a pain in the ass and get on board with this. But Tony feels adding that part would be just slightly counterproductive.
“Okay,” Banner starts as if he’s speaking to a developmentally challenged child. “I’m just. I have to ignore how you just called this... This thing inside me, that monster, some kind of gift. Because it’s not. It’s a-a-a-a disease, a menace that needs to be stopped, and I’m not going to stop working until I find a cure for it.”
“See, now that’s where I gotta interject and say that’s when we’re gonna start fucking with you if you do that,” Tony says with a shake of his head. “You want your little house on the prairie in the middle of nowhere, too bad, boo fucking hoo, life isn’t fair. I need the green guy and that’s how it’s gonna be.”
“I thought you were giving me a choice here,” he replies with bitter sarcasm, eyes rolling.
“Yeah, and the choice is us or them. Because they are pretty much convinced you need to be filed under ‘weapons containment’ for the rest of your now-unnatural life, whereas we, over here,” and he gestures to demonstrate the little circle of here they have going on, “are offering you a nice, cool, refreshing glass of humanity. And y’know, the most advanced laboratories in the history of ever that would then be at your disposal for whatever science project that tickles your fancy.”
Banner shakes his head, and it’s half determination, half desperation. “No. No. I am not going to give myself up just so you can let me out of my cage whenever you need that thing. You’re the same as Ross, that’s all this is, and if you think you’re not, then you’re even more insane than he is.” Tony opens his mouth to retort, but he’s cut off with another stare. “And it doesn’t matter what you do or say, because the first time I have an episode, I’ll be out of here and so far gone you won’t ever find me again, that I can guarantee you, and then you’ll see just why I need to fix this.”
“Come on, Doctor,” Tony rolls his eyes and mentally tells Banner just where he can shove this overdeveloped melodrama bullshit, “we’ve fully ensured the proper preventative measures if you decide to get anxious and have a panic attack.”
“‘Decide to get anxious’? You just- God, you just do not get this at all.” Banner splutters for a few seconds more before he calms down enough to speak clearly. “Look, let me just. Since I obviously haven’t made it clear enough for you to get yet, here it is again. No, n-o, no. Even if I wanted to join up, which I don’t, I am not a hero. I’m so not a hero, it’s leagues beyond not being funny. So good luck, best wishes with the whole superhero thing, but go find yourself some other idiot stupid enough to blast himself with gamma radiation for your little team.”
Tony stands there for a second, and the quiet stretches until he finally turns his back on Banner. “Fine, have it your way,” he says. “Door’s that way, don’t let it hit you on the way out. Have a nice life.”
He doesn’t even have to look back to know what Banner’s face is looking like right now - he can hear it all in the man’s voice. “…W-wait. That’s it? After all that, you’re… You’re really letting me go?” Confusion. Suspicion. And just the slightest bit of hope.
He’s halfway out the door when he turns to face the good doctor. “Yeah huh,” he says, the utter portrait of nonchalance. “Hey, JARVIS, help Dr. Banner with his travel plans, will you? I gotta talk with Fury about putting the backup plan in place, you understand, don’t you, Doc? Things to do, idiots to line up, busy stuff.” A sardonic little smile as JARVIS acknowledges, and Tony gives it five seconds before Banner goes exactly where he wants him to.
Tony should have known better - barely two pass before: “What, uh. What backup plan?” Banner asks the question, hope gone now and double the suspicion to make up for it.
“Just taking your advice,” he replies innocently as Banner blinks in confusion, then pales when he realizes what Tony’s saying.
“…No. N-no, I-I-I was being sarcastic just now, you can’t. You can’t seriously be considering…” He can’t even bring himself to say it out loud, and Tony’s got him now, all he has to do is reel Banner in and fry him up for fishsticks.
Tony shrugs, fingers tapping against the doorframe. “Hell of a thing to joke about, you know. But it doesn’t matter either way. We’ve got the tech and the know-how, and I’m sure we can drum up a volunteer or ten.”
The look on Banner’s face is almost enough to make Tony feel bad about being a manipulative douche. Almost. “But, but…,” his voice is shaking along with the rest of him now and he’s staring at Tony, eyes pleading with him to see reason. “But nobody knows what happened that day, what went wrong, or why I reacted the way I did! By all rights I should have died of radiation poisoning right then and there, and-and… You can’t just line people up to try and z-zap at them until you get results you’re looking for-!”
He waits until Banner’s talked himself out, all the while keeping his face schooled in a careful mask of ‘and I should care… Why?’. “You almost done there, ‘cause I’m kind of on a timetable.”
Banner’s managed to pace himself to the middle of the room with all of his freaking out and he just stares at Tony. His face and knees crumple at the same time, leaving his head to hang between his shoulders just as he sits down. Then, so softly Tony almost misses it, “…I’ll do it.”
Tony grins in triumph. “See, now was that really so hard?”
“You’re a real bastard. You know that, right?”
“Takes all kinds to save the world, kiddo.”
-❖-❖-❖-
OKAY CALLING FINISHED... For this part. Expect definite sequels for this fic, because the ideas just won't stop coming.