FIC: A Curious Case (MCU/Thunderheart, Bruce/Natasha, Ray/Crow Horse, R)

Sep 03, 2015 12:17



TITLE: A Curious Case
RATING: R
FANDOM: MCU, Thunderheart
PAIRING: Natasha Romanoff/Bruce Banner, Walter Crow Horse/Ray Levoi
SUMMARY: Ray and Crow Horse investigate a suspicious death on the rez. Could the mysterious new resident, Dr. Bruce Banner, be behind it?
AUTHOR’S NOTES: For , who makes me do these things.


Part One: The Good Doctor

Ray sat on an exam table in the rez’s health clinic, cradling his left arm in his lap. After a long while, the doctor came in to see him. He was a Wasi’chu guy, quiet on a cellular level, with a mess of dark curls and a slightly rumpled Oxford beneath his white coat. He was carrying a folder with Ray’s name on it.

“Mr. Levoi,” the doctor said. “Sorry for the wait. I’m Dr. Banner.”

“Nice to meet you,” Ray said. “We heard you were coming.”

Ray extended his right hand, the one not wrapped in a swath of blood-speckled bandages. They shook hands.

“You heard?” Banner said.

Ray smiled. “News travels fast on the rez. Something you’ll need to get used to.”

“I guess,” Banner said. “There’s a lot here to get used to.” He turned his attention to Ray’s injured left hand. “I have your x-rays. What happened, exactly?”

“I was breaking up a fight at The Singing Sisters. It got a little physical.”

Banner’s eyes flickered briefly to the gun on Ray’s hip. “You’re a police officer?”

“Yes. I’m the FBI liaison to the local PD.”

Banner nodded. “Okay.” He turned on the light box on the wall, and slipped Ray’s x-rays out of the folder. He stuck the x-rays on the box. “You’ve broken your wrist. Or, I guess, someone’s broken it for you.” On the x-ray, he traced one of the bones in the forearm. “See here, the distal radius? There’s a fracture.”

Ray frowned. “Okay. So what does that mean?”

“Six weeks in a cast, give or take.”

“Fantastic.”

Banner turned from him, began gathering materials from the cabinet.

“I’m going to give you a local anesthetic, and then I’m going to wrap and plaster your arm.” He turned back to Ray, arms full of supplies. “Okay?”

“Do I have a choice?” Ray asked, eyeing the needle.

“Well, we could do surgery, put some screws in, but it’s really not necessary and the downtime’s about the same.”

Ray shrugged. “Let’s get started with the cast, then.”

“Good choice.”

Banner set the bandages and plaster on the table beside Ray, and readied the needle. He unwrapped the gauze swathing Ray’s wrist.

“Little pinch,” Banner said, and sunk the point of the needle into Ray’s wrist.

Ray flinched; it was more than a little pinch, and he could feel the medicine burning through his veins.

“So, how are you finding life on the rez?” Ray asked as Banner began wrapping Ray’s wrist with fresh gauze.

“It’s taking a little getting used to. The weather, for one.”

Ray chuckled. “Yeah. Where did you move from?”

“Around.”

Ray studied Banner’s face, but the doctor’s eyes were down.

“Sure,” Ray said. He ran his tongue around his teeth. “I’m a transplant, too. You’ll get used to things here. It’s wonderful for the community to have another doctor; we’ve been getting on with one for so long.”

“Thanks,” Banner said. “I want to help.” He tucked the end of the gauze, and turned away to mix the plaster. “I’m going to start applying the cast now. Any pain?”

“No.”

***

Ray and his cast made it back to the Bear Creek police station. He found Crow Horse at dispatch.

“Hey,” Crow Horse said.

He’d earned a black eye and a split lip in the fight at The Singing Sisters; something pinched in Ray’s chest when he saw him. Crow Horse’s eyes found Ray’s cast, and made an expression that suggested there was a pinch in his chest, too.

“Shit,” Crow Horse said. “Broken?”

“Yeah. Doc says six weeks.”

“Shit,” Crow Horse said again. Then, “You see Doc Cross, or the new guy?”

“The new guy. Dr. Banner.”

“And?”

Ray shrugged. “He’s quiet. Diligent. Hiding something.”

“Yeah, well, he’s hardly the first. Hiding something is the number one reason Wasi’chus move up this way.”

“I guess.”

“You think he’s gonna be trouble?” Crow Horse asked.

“No. He seems pretty serious about wanting to lay low.”

“Well, then, I say we let him.” Crow Horse clapped his hand on Ray’s shoulder. “Come on, kola. Let’s get some lunch.”

***

They went to a little diner to eat. Crow Horse had to cut up Ray’s chicken, but everything else went smoothly.

“You hear this shit about that fella in Arizona?” Crow Horse asked.

Ray shook his head.

“Some Wasi’chu guy teaching ‘the way of the Indian’ held a seminar or some shit out in the desert with a bunch of other white fellas. Our genius decided to authenticize the experience, and held a sweat.”

Ray choked on his salad. “Oh no.”

“Twelve people died.”

“Shit,” Ray said. “That’s awful.”

“Yeah, well, it’ll hardly be the last time. Y’know I saw a Navajo pattern on a pair of ladies’ underbritches the other day?”

“Why were you looking at women’s underwear?”

Crow Horse waved off the question. He stole a dollop of meringue off Ray’s pie.

“At least we don’t have to deal with that crap here,” he said.

***

Bruce Banner left the reservation’s health clinic, and got into his car. He turned on the windshield wipers, swishing away the day’s dust. Banner flexed his fingers around the steering wheel, urging out the tension cramping his knuckles.

Banner drove to Red Crow. He parked at the edge of a clearing; he’d have to go the rest of the way on foot. Banner pushed through tall prairie grasses until he came to a clearing with a camper attached to a pickup truck, a small campfire, and a tepee.

“Hello?”

A man emerged from the tepee. He was tall, thin, and clad only in a pair of worn jeans. His hair was reddish and his white skin was tinged with pink from a fading sunburn.

“Dr. Reitzfeld?”

“Ah, Dr. Banner,” the man said, jogging up to meet Banner. “Again, call me Rising Eagle.”

“Um,” Banner said. Then: “Call me Bruce.”

Reitzfeld nodded. “Sure. Ready to get started?”

Banner pushed his shirtsleeves up his forearms. “Yeah.”

Banner followed Reitzfeld into the tepee.

Part Two: The Witch Doctor

“Sugar Ray.”

Ray drove his nose into his pillow, willing himself back to sleep. The tickle of the rough pads of Crow Horse’s fingers trailing over his ribs; Ray’s eyes flew open, and he turned onto his back, Crow Horse looming over him, the curtain of his long, dark hair cutting them off from the rest of the world.

“Good morning,” Crow Horse purred. He leaned down and kissed Ray.

Ray tugged at Crow Horse’s hair. “Good morning.”

Crow Horse’s hands on Ray’s ribs, his hips, moving down between his legs. Ray closed his eyes and arched his back; ringing in his ears was the sound of Crow Horse chuckling. Crow Horse’s mouth traveling down his body, and Ray’s breath went shallow. He thrust against Crow Horse’s tongue, his fingers tightening in Crow Horse’s hair.

On the bedside table, Crow Horse’s phone rang. Crow Horse looked up, and Ray sighed, opening his eyes to stare at the ceiling, his arousal slowly diminishing.

“Crow Horse,” Crow Horse said into the phone. “Mm-hmm. Shit. Where? Okay, we are en route.”

Crow Horse hung up the phone and leveled a look at Ray.

“Rise and shine, honey,” Crow Horse said. “We got a body.”

He patted Ray’s hip, and walked to the shower.

Ray glowered at the ceiling, listening to the sound of Crow Horse in the shower. He palmed his cock for a moment, but his heart wasn’t in it.

***

The DB was a middle-aged man, found dead behind the wheel of his car in Red Crow. Crow Horse calmed down the passersby who’d come across the corpse, and Ray investigated the scene. The car was still running, the front bumper accordioned against a light pole. Ray put a glove on his good hand and opened the car door; he turned off the ignition and looked at the DB. The man was Indian, his eyes open and milky. One hand was still on the wheel, the other in his lap. Ray noted the rigor; he used a pen to push up the man’s sleeve to check for lividity, and something stopped him cold.

“Hey, Crow Horse!”

Crow Horse came jogging over. He looked at the man’s wrist. There were crisscrossed patterns of dark burns on the man’s skin.

“What the hell is that?” he asked.

“Got me,” Ray said, and checked the other arm, the man’s chest. The burns were everywhere. “I’ve never seen anything like this.”

“Best get the body to the ME in Rapid,” Crow Horse said.

Ray nodded, and bent down to process the rest of the scene.

***

Sweat beaded up on Banner’s skin. His glasses fogged with perspiration. Reitzfeld threw another stick of kindling onto the fire, and stirred the pot above it. The smell made Banner’s stomach turn.

“What’s in there?” Banner asked, peering suspiciously into the pot.

“Native herbs, with a modern twist.”

“Like...lemon zest?” Banner asked. “That kind of twist?”

“No,” Reitzfeld said. “I didn’t bring you out here for a cocktail. I’ve synthesized some aggressive antimicrobials for you-nasty things, probably kill anyone else, but you...your case is-”

“Advanced?”

“Specialized,” Reitzfeld said.

He took the pot off the heat.

“Now what?” Banner said. “I eat it?”

“As soon as it cools down, we’ll transfuse you.”

Banner frowned at the dirt floor of the tepee. Reitzfeld caught his look, and added, “I’ve got a lab in the camper.”

“So we’re out here in this thing because...?”

Reitzfeld laughed. He clapped his hand on Banner’s shoulder. “Magic, Bruce. Magic.”

***

“Whatcha got there, Raymond?” Crow Horse asked.

Ray came to sit on the edge of Crow Horse’s desk. “Report from the ME in Rapid.”

“And what’s the answer to the sixty-four thousand dollar question?”

Ray frowned over the report a moment. “ME says the burns are symptoms of ‘cutaneous radiation syndrome’. The vic died of radiation poisoning.”

“Uranium?” Crow Horse asked.

Ray looked over the report. “This says acute exposure to gamma radiation.”

***

Natasha was looking for sleep when she heard a whisper from her bedside table. Natasha pushed her nose into her pillow, tried to ignore it. The whisper came again, louder this time but still indistinct. Natasha sighed. She sat up, turned on the light. She frowned at the bedside table for a moment until she recognized the source of the noise: her comm earpiece.

Natasha picked up the earpiece and slipped it in.

“Romanoff,” she said.

“Natasha!”

The voice was Fury’s. Natasha glanced at the clock, and frowned.

“Late call, Commander. Something good on TV?”

“I’ve got news for you. News of a ... personal nature. I wanted to give it to you as soon as.”

Natasha straightened. “Don’t keep a lady in suspense.”

“We may have a bead on Banner.”

Natasha momentarily lost her breath. Her head swam, and her hands grasped for something intangible.

“What?” she said. “Where?”

“We’ve found elevated gamma radiation signatures in the Badlands.”

“The Badlands?” she asked.

“South Dakota, USA,” Fury said. “Any idea what he’d be doing there?”

“Checking out Mount Rushmore? No, I have no idea.” Natasha found the soundness returning to her flesh; nothing could focus her like a target. “But I’m going to find out.”

Part Three: A Long Story

Banner woke with pain in his chest, his head foggy. He sat up, fingers groping across his temples. He was still in the lab in Reitzfeld’s camper, on the exam table. He didn’t remember falling asleep. Banner blinked a few times, and the world came into focus through the lenses of his glasses.

“What happened?” he asked.

Reitzfeld turned to him from his microscope.

“Well, good morning,” he said.

Banner tried to leave the exam table, but his head swam. He sat back down.

“What happened?” he asked again.

“We transfused you,” Reitzfeld said. “You passed out.”

Banner groaned, ran a hand through his hair. “Is that normal?”

Reitzfeld shrugged. “Previous subjects have had a brief loss of consciousness, yes.”

“Lab rats,” Banner said.

“Sure.”

Banner finally felt well enough to stand. He slid off the exam table, and went to peer over Reitzfeld’s shoulder.

“I’ve been examining your blood, post-transfusion,” Reitzfeld said. “There’s some progress, but not as much as I’d hoped. Levels of radiation are still quite high.”

Banner sighed. “Another bust.”

“Be patient. This is only the first trial.”

***

Ray came into Crow Horse’s office, eyes on his notepad. “So, I spoke to the widow of our body in Red Crow,” Ray said. “She says her husband answered an ad in the local rag to be guinea pig for some kind of experiment.”

Crow Horse frowned. “What kind of experiment?”

“She couldn’t say. I looked up the ad in question, and the ad doesn’t say, either.”

“I know you didn’t come over here to tell me all the things you don’t know.”

Ray’s tongue poked against the inside of his cheek. “I’ve got a name, the man running the experiment. Reitzfeld. He’s up in Red Crow, too.”

Crow Horse hauled himself out of his chair. “Well, I say we go give Mr. Reitzfeld a visit.”

“You read my mind.”

***

Crow Horse eased the cruiser onto the road’s shoulder. He peered through the windshield at the tepee set up in front of the camper.

“What the hell?” he said.

“It’s a tepee,” Ray said. “Even I know that.”

Crow Horse was wearing Ray’s Ray-Bans, but by the set of his mouth Ray could tell he was rolling his eyes. “I know that, Raymond. I thought this was a white guy.”

Ray studied the DMV printout he had of the guy. “That’s what this says.”

“Shit,” Crow Horse said, and got out of the car.

Ray followed him as he crested the small hill separating them from the tepee. A man emerged from the camper-pale, red-headed, cranky.

“Excuse me,” the man said. “This is private property.”

“False,” Crow Horse said. “This is tribal land. We are tribal police. Ain’t no private about it.”

The man stiffened a bit. “Police? What do you want?”

“You Reitzfeld?” Crow Horse asked.

“I am.”

“We’ve got some questions for you,” Ray said.

“Like what?” Reitzfeld asked.

“Like is there anyone else at your-” Crow Horse motioned disdainfully to the trailer, “-residence?”

Reitzfeld hesitated.

“We can always check for you,” Ray said.

“Do you have a warrant?”

Crow Horse shook his head. “Best perk up your ears, man. This is tribal land; we are tribal police. We don’t need a warrant.”

Reitzfeld caved. “I’ll go get him?”

“You do that,” Crow Horse said. “Officer Levoi, please escort Mr. Reitzfeld into his residence.”

“You got it,” Ray said, and trotted up to Reitzfeld.

They entered the trailer. The walls were lined with scientific machinery; Ray couldn’t put names to half of it. There was an exam table in the middle of the room, IVs banking either side. Dr. Banner was on the table, looking drawn and pale.

“What the hell is this?” Ray asked.

“This is my laboratory,” Reitzfeld said.

“Officer,” Banner said, coming to his feet. “Is there a problem?”

“I’ve got some questions for you both,” Ray said. “Please come outside with us.”

The three men came down the trailer’s steps and into the yard, where Crow Horse was poking around the tepee. He straightened when he saw them.

“And who are you?” Crow Horse asked, eyes on Banner.

“Bruce Banner,” Banner said. “Is there any trouble?”

“What are you doing here?” Crow Horse asked.

Banner hesitated.

“Now, you can answer my questions here,” Crow Horse said, “or you can take a ride down to the station with me.”

“Dr. Reitzfeld is helping me with...a personal affliction.”

Ray looked up from his pad. “Does this personal affliction have anything to do with gamma radiation?”

Banner froze. He looked to Reitzfeld, but the man’s eyes were down.

“Answer the question,” Crow Horse said.

“Yes,” Banner said weakly.

“You been running a lot of these experiments, Dr. Reitzfeld?” Crow Horse asked.

“I don’t see what that has to do with anything,” Reitzfeld said.

“It has to do with a dead body we found not a mile from here,” Ray said. “I’m afraid you’re going to have to come with us.”

Crow Horse escorted Reitzfeld to the backseat of the cruiser. Ray put his hand on Banner’s arm, gently guiding him toward the cruiser. Banner went pale; Ray was afraid he was going to faint, but then he folded, like he’d experienced a sudden, violent stomach cramp.

“No,” Banner said. “No-no-no, please no-”

Banner curled inwardly, his head down, his arms-stiff, fingers curls into fists-groping at his chest.

The first thing Ray noticed was Banner’s forearms. The muscles twisted, enlarged, Banner’s shirtsleeves erupting at the seams. Ray forced himself to tear his attention away from the minute, to look at the whole picture. Banner’s shoulders spread, stone-hard muscles popping up from nowhere; Banner’s clothes were reduced to shreds and his skin was darkening to a reptilian green.

“Jesus Christ,” Ray said.

Crow Horse raised his gun.

“Don’t shoot him,” a voice came from behind them. “It’ll just make him mad.”

Ray turned to find a red-headed woman in a black cat suit.

“What are you supposed to be?” Ray said.

“Natasha Romanoff,” the woman said. “I’m here to help.”

She pushed gently past them. Ray trailed her.

“Excuse me, ma’am, this is-”

“What this is,” she said, “is not your fight.”

Natasha approached the thing Banner had turned into. She took off her gloves, let them drop behind her.

“Hey, Big Guy,” she said.

Banner looked at her, snorted, and looked away. Natasha took another step towards him, one hand held up in front of her.

“Sun’s gettin’ real low,” she said.

The thing looked at her, and for a moment they just stayed like that, eye-to-eye. Then Natasha took another step toward him.

Ray raised his own gun, trained it on the thing.

Natasha extended her hand, palm up. The thing regarded her for a moment, then extended his own hand, palm up.

Natasha placed her hand on Banner’s enormous forearm. With a feather-light touch, she ran her fingers down the thing’s forearm, over his wrist, down into his palm. Natasha rested her palm on his, and for a moment they stayed in this stasis, the two of them, skin-to-skin.

Then something changed in the thing’s face, like something internal snapping. He pulled away from Natasha, fell to his knees, and Ray watched as the thing became Banner again.

Banner fell gasping to his belly, his entire body wracked by shakes. Natasha ran to him, crouching beside him, her hand on his spine.

“What the hell is this?” Ray asked.

“It’s a long story,” Natasha said.

“I’ve got time.”

She nodded. “Okay.”

Epilogue: And They All Lived Happily Ever After

Crow Horse called in for backup. He took Reitzfeld down to the station; Ray waited with Banner and Natasha as Danny brought another cruiser around.

On the way, Natasha and Banner explained about the Hulk.

“If I hadn’t seen it, I wouldn’t believe a word you said,” Ray said.

“I guess I missed a fun outing,” Danny said.

“You said you found a body,” Banner said. He was still pale, and Danny had wrapped him in a blanket.

“We did,” Ray said. “Burns all over his body-cutaneous radiation syndrome. ME says the guy died-”

“-of acute gamma radiation exposure,” Banner said. “Shit.”

“You want to tell me what’s going on?” Ray asked.

“Reitzfeld, he-he said he’d tried his experiment on other subjects. I thought he meant lab animals, but...”

“Well, my partner’s with him at the station,” Ray said. “We’ll get this sorted out. I wouldn’t plan on seeing your friend for another 15 to 20, though.”

“He’s not my friend,” Banner said. “He was-”

“He was what?” Natasha asked. “I still don’t understand what you boys were playing at.”

Banner lowered his eyes. “A cure.”

Natasha’s jaw clenched. “A cure?”

“For you.”

Natasha frowned. “I don’t understand.”

“Reitzfeld approached me; he’d heard of my condition, and thought he could help.”

“Help me?”

Banner studied his hands. “Help me. Get rid of the Other Guy.”

“For me,” Natasha said.

“So that...so that we could be together.”

Natasha put her arms around him. She rested her head on his shoulder. “We could be together without you almost killing yourself. We could’ve been better before, if you hadn’t run off.”

“I wanted to be safe for you.”

“You don’t have to take care of me,” Natasha said. “I can take care of myself.”

And she kissed him.

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