Walking the Path Between Welcome and Exile (3/5)

[laurie_ky]

Story information; Chapter One - Tony, Chapter Two - Natasha

Chapter Three - Clint, Chapter Four -- Thor


Steve

“Stark, Doctor Banner. Fury's ordered us to meet with him at the Manhattan office.”

Steve had caught up to them as they headed towards Tony's convertible, intending to return to Stark Tower so Tony could finally give Bruce the R & D tour.

Candyland, he'd called it on the helicarrier. Bruce was caught up on sleep, and more than ready to be dazzled by Tony's toys. And his brilliance. If he left, he would miss the way they tossed ideas and concepts back and forth and just sparked off each other.

“What's up, Captain? Trouble?” Tony would like that, Bruce thought. To be Iron Man. Save the day, rescue people, protect the city.

“No. No new trouble. But he said it was important.”

Steve turned to Bruce. “Doctor Banner, he said you'd have safe passage.”

Bruce ran his hand through his hair and said skeptically, “Fury said that?”

Tony crossed his arms. “Yeah, that's not really his style.” He eyed Steve. “You insisted, right? Of course you did. Good idea, Cap.”

Steve looked at Bruce, and the sincerity, the protectiveness, in that look made Bruce feel odd. Since the accident, he'd sometimes swapped protection for his labor, physical or mental. Other times, he'd used the oldest currency known, and bartered his body. He'd given blowjobs or let himself be fucked when he'd been beyond desperate. It was safe; he didn't like those men, wasn't turned on by them, and his heartbeat stayed steady as he serviced them.

The last person to protect him unselfishly had been Betty. For a reward, he'd dragged her into his world. He'd regretted that so much. When he'd kissed her before letting himself fall out of the helicopter to fight Blonski, he'd been saying goodbye. He had no intention of disrupting her life again, making her a fugitive with him.

It was pointless for Bruce to ask Steve why he was looking out for him. He already knew.

Bruce had sometimes wished he was Captain America, brave and strong and good, when he'd been a kid. But the bastardized super-soldier serum had made him the Hulk, instead. He knew what that said about him.

“Doctor Banner?” Steve's eyes were kind now.

Tony bumped his shoulder and Bruce said, “All right. This time I'll come.” Then he noticed Steve observing the way Bruce kept moving his right thumb back and forth across his left wrist, and he put his hands in his pockets, hiding them.

Steve said, “Thank you, Doctor.”

“Steve? Call me Bruce? If you want to, that is,” Bruce said, disconcerted by the way Steve had focused on his fidgeting.

“I like calling you by your title. It's respectful. Is that okay?” Steve said calmly.

Tony snorted. “Sure, Cap.” He wrapped an arm around Bruce's waist and said, “Let's go, Big Green. See you there, Captain.” He steered them towards the parking lot, and Bruce let him, enjoying the feel of Tony's arm against his back.

* * *

Natasha was waiting for them when they drove up in Tony's snazzy convertible to S.H.I.E.L.D.'s Manhattan office. She handed Bruce his battered backpack, and he smiled at her. She returned a small secret one that hinted she could only afford to show a tiny bit of amusement.

Still, it felt like this was symbolic, that she'd fulfilled her end of the bargain made in Kolkata: he would come and help and not be caged. He and Tony followed her into the building, his backpack slung over his shoulder.

* * *

Tony was slouched in a chair at the large conference table, humming something that sounded vaguely like rock-n-roll, his restless fingers playing with his Starkphone. Clint and Natasha were side by side, watching the door for Fury's entrance. They looked... professional. Dangerous. Steve was sitting quietly, watching the others. He caught Bruce's eye across the table and grinned at him. Steve looked boyish, open, when he did that.

Steve cleared his throat. “Doctor Banner, would you mind if I sketched you sometime?”

Bruce was surprised. “I, uh, don't know. I try not to get my picture in the media. If you draw me, what would you do with it?”

“I'd keep it private, unless you gave me permission to show it to the public. I have drawn the Hulk, but then everyone knows you as the Hulk. I'd respect your privacy as Doctor Bruce Banner, though.” Steve was so sincere that Bruce didn't want to tell him no.

Tony sat straight up in his chair and swore. All eyes in the room focused on him as he watched something on his phone and jabbed at buttons and made his fingers dance on the screen.

Then he stood and took the phone to the front of the room to the audio-visual console.

“Captain, you can draw him and put the image on Times Square now. It'll be old news. Bruce, sorry, but your cover is blown. Big time. JARVIS sent me a text. This vid started out on some college kid's website dedicated to sightings of the Hulk, but I did a quick check and it's everywhere now. The amount of hits on this thing is phenomenal. It's beyond viral.” He connected the phone and brought up the image on the large screen at the front of the room. “I just looked at a few moments of it.”

They watched in silence as a green blur crashed into a large building that looked abandoned. The voice of the man narrating the video was speculating that an alien had just landed. The picture wavered as the man moved cautiously closer and closer to the huge green body that had destroyed part of the roof and a brick wall when he'd landed. The Hulk leapt up and looked around and stared straight into the camera for a close-up shot, his expression dismissing any threat from the man. He turned away and sat on a nearby pile of rubble, the shreds of his pants falling off him.

The camera kept rolling as the Hulk sat quietly. The man was fond of the zoom feature and every part of the Hulk's body was gone over, although his genitals were mostly hidden from sight by the Hulk's massive thigh.

He shivered, his enormous muscles tightening for a long moment, before they relaxed and he slowly lay down on the rubble, his eyes closing.

When the transformation began, the man whispered, “Oh my God,” as the Hulk shook fiercely. His muscles contracted and his body arced, then shrank, the green of his skin faded, and his curly hair returned to its normal blackish-brown color.

As Bruce watched the video, his fingers moved in the self-calming ritual that he'd learned as a small boy when the world became loud and angry.

The unconscious naked man looked agonized, as the camera lingered on his face, the brutish features softening, becoming smaller.

Bruce felt frozen. In the images he was watching he looked vulnerable, younger, with his unruly hair and closed eyes. God, he hated being exposed like this. He didn't care about being naked. Well, he did, but that was just embarrassment. He was bound to be identified. People who had known him but not known his secret would realize what kind of man he was to carry a monster inside of him.

When it was over, he was asleep on the pile of broken down bricks. The man kept the camera on him for a time, before saying to himself, “I don't know if that boy is an alien or something else, but he's gonna need some clothes.”

The camera went black for a moment, and then brightened with an image of himself, now dressed, leaving on a motorcycle. The camera operator zoomed the lens and caught his features as he turned the bike. There was no doubt that he was the same man who'd transformed from the Hulk. “Good luck, son,” was heard as Bruce drove out of camera range.

Bruce recognized the old man who appeared next on the screen, sitting at a table with a mug of coffee that he played with as a new narrator introduced him as her grandfather. She giggled a little, and said, “Grandpa, tell me about the man who fell from the sky. He was really cute, for an old guy. Well, he was after he changed from being the Jolly Green Giant.”

“Macie, I think you're too young to be looking at pictures of naked men.”

“Ah, Grandpa, I'm a big girl now, I'm fifteen. I'm so glad we gave you that cell phone for your birthday, because what you filmed is like, the coolest thing ever. And this is like that oral history project I had to do for school. We just had a fight with real space aliens, and this green guy, he was part of it. I've been looking at images from Manhattan of the battle since I borrowed your phone and found your video. On the Internet people say he's called the Hulk. There's this site about him, by this college kid, Jack McGee, and he's got a video up from about a year ago, when the Hulk fought the Army at Culver University. Jack's blog said he was there and watched the whole thing. So, please grandpa, tell what happened?”

The old man recounted his experiences, with his granddaughter's encouragement. Bruce remembered coming to and finding this thin grey-haired man watching him; curious, but calm.

On the screen, grandpa was saying that the man had denied being an alien. “So, I said to him, 'Son, you've got a condition,' and he seemed tired, but nice. He was quiet, talked with a soft voice. I gave him some clothes and he got dressed. When I asked him if he was a big guy that turned into a little guy, or a little guy who blew up into a big guy, he looked confused and said he didn't even know.”

Grandpa added, “You know, Macie, he was worried that if he went to where he said he could do the most good, that it would be where he could also do the most harm. So I talked to him a little about that while I took him to the guard-room. He drank a lot of water, and said he had to go to Stark Tower, that he was needed to fight. I'd turned on the radio and it was all over the news about Manhattan being attacked. I told him to take John's motorcycle and gave him the key. He said thank you, hopped on the bike, and left. I hope he's okay now. When he changed from being that Hulk creature he was in pain; it hurt him.”

Macie said, “I thought he'd be bigger as a man, you know, since he's the Hulk.”

“Well, he was about as tall as you, Macie, but size doesn't mean much. I saw those newscasts, too, with him as that big Hulk fighting to save us. I was in Vietnam, honey. I've seen war, but those alien things. Lord. It took guts to face them. That boy is a hero. I've been watching the news to see what happened to him, but nobody seems to know.”

The video ended there. There was silence in the room, as Tony switched to a new one. Bruce kept his eyes down. Silly, really, of him, to want to put off seeing the looks on the other Avengers' faces.

“Okay, here's the nail in the coffin video. And it's not the only one,” Tony said, and Bruce watched as one of his grad students from years ago identified him from the pictures the old man had taken. The video gave a quick rundown on his biography and showed photos taken when Bruce worked at Culver University. Then the narrator explained that Bruce Banner had disappeared after a lab experiment he was conducting killed several people and hurt others.

Tony turned the display off and pocketed his phone. Nick Fury strode in the door as Bruce took a deep breath and said, “Okay, so people know who I am. They know who Tony is, too. And Steve.”

Fury moved to the head of the table. “Stark, sit your ass down. Doctor Banner, Stark and Rogers aren't wanted by the authorities. You are. Your position would be stronger if you agreed to work for S.H.I.E.L.D. Charges have been dropped in other cases, in exchange for basically agreeing to remain in voluntary custody with us.”

So this was it. S.H.I.E.L.D. wanted him kept on the reservation where he could be monitored. “And if I did sign up? Join the Avengers permanently? What would I have to do when there aren't space aliens to fight? Make weapons?”

Fury glared at him. “Don't play dumb. You're a brilliant scientist; you know you're needed in the labs. Yes, we'd like you to help with weapons and other research. You did it for the Army, after all. But don't go getting all fired up, Doctor. You ran for six years. You want to run for the rest of your life? Besides, you owe us; we've kept Hydra from taking you three times in the last year. We've been protecting you. You'll be safer as part of S.H.I.E.L.D.”

“Sell myself into slavery? You make it sound like so much fun.” Bruce gripped the edge of the table, realized what he was doing, then dropped his hands down to his lap and twisted them together.

“Be practical, Banner. You've sold yourself before when you needed help,” Fury said, and Bruce heard a tinge of disdain in his voice.

“I don't know that I'm as desperate now as I was then.” Bruce wasn't going to deny trading his body for survival. He didn't hate himself for that. Nobody had been hurt by it, after all.

“Bruce, you can work for Stark Industries and be on-call for the Avengers. I'm out of the weapons business now.” Tony was giving Fury the stink-eye, and Bruce felt a little of the cold that had been numbing him warm.

Fury ignored Tony. “Listen up, Avengers. The Council has decided that the Avengers Initiative is to shelved again. But not permanently. Basically, you would all be considered to be in the Reserves, to be called up again if we have something that our regular agents, or the armed forces, police, couldn't handle. But they want a low profile while we do PR work. The Avengers just kicked the ass of a god and stopped an alien invasion. You're powerful people, all of you, and in a group that's multiplied to the power of ten. There will be a backlash, guaranteed. You're all going to hunker down and let S.H.I.E.L.D. handle it. And Stark, you give Banner shelter and you can be charged with harboring a fugitive.”

Natasha spoke up. “Director, there aren't any actual charges against Banner from civilian authorities. He's just wanted for questioning by the police in some towns. Ross played the domestic terrorist card to get authorization to take him in, but that's been dropped since S.H.I.E.L.D.'s been in charge. You've made worse go away.”

Fury frowned. “I can if I'm motivated to do so. Doctor, you ready to motivate me?”

Bruce didn't respond, but he consciously relaxed his tense muscles and folded his hands on top of the table.

“No? Don't go making a stupid-ass decision that you can handle everything on your own, Banner. You can't.”

Fury turned his head slowly, making eye contact with everyone. “The rest of you are cleared to leave, but keep in communication with Hill. Take some downtime, Romanoff and Barton. Rogers, you too. We can set you up with an apartment in town or somewhere out of the city. Stark, stay out of S.H.I.E.L.D. headquarters, but we have more consulting work for you in regards to the alien tech.”

Fury leveled his one good eye at Bruce. “Banner. You are a problem. I want you here in S.H.I.E.L.D. headquarters for this afternoon. Then we'll transfer you to another facility, out of New York, while we get this mess of yours sorted out. I was willing to let you stay free out in the city, but that was before that video went viral. Now, if you sign an employment contract we'll keep you busy working, and Legal will get your charges dropped.”

He pointed a long finger at Bruce. “I consider you an asset, besides being a pain in my ass. You decide not to work for me, fine, you're still under S.H.I.E.L.D.'s protection, but I won't make your legal issues disappear. I suspect you'll find it boring, sitting in a room, reading magazines, but that's your problem. There's no need to run. There's no point, since we will find you, Doctor.”

Bruce felt his heartbeat increasing at the veiled threat. He unfolded his hands and let his fingers make pointless designs on his other hand. He was calm. He was so very fucking calm. “Are you threatening me, Director?”

Fury's mouth tightened before he answered. “Consider it a promise. We've tracked you since you fought with the Abomination and ran off to Canada. You've shown that in most circumstances, you've learned how to control becoming the Hulk. General Ross underestimated how much of you remains when you turn green. You calculated how much force clapping your hands together was needed to produce a vacuum to put out the fire Blonski started during your fight with him. Pretty advanced concept for a mindless brute. I want you for S.H.I.E.L.D., but if you run, if law enforcement finds you, or Ross, or Hydra, my agents will have orders to just watch. You're a smart man, Banner, even if you are a stubborn son-of-a-bitch. Do the smart thing.”

“How can I trust you to not experiment on me? You had my room all ready on the helicarrier. And I won't work on weapons.” He'd sounded okay, he thought. Mild. Neutral. In control. He could absolutely keep things under control, even if Fury's words had fed the flames of his anger.

Fury snorted. “There's leeway to have some things written into your contract, although it's a little late to get on your moral high horse. If you hadn't been willing to experiment on yourself, we wouldn't be having this conversation. You turned yourself into a monster, and you kept experimenting for six years, under very uncontrolled circumstances. I'm offering to give you the backup you need to do your research safely.”

Bruce glanced at Fury but stayed quiet. He kept his eyes away from the others. He'd stopped looking for a cure a year ago. He was still doing research on his blood and cells, but that was just for monitoring and for trying to understand how he had first become the other guy. He wasn't obsessed with finding a cure anymore because he didn't believe there was one. In accepting that premise, he'd been able to let go of his despair when he failed. He was able to look outside of himself and his own problems and try to do some good for people in real need.

Fury sighed. “S.H.I.E.L.D. is not your enemy. I'm not your enemy.” Fury had gentled his voice, sounding compassionate now instead of commanding. “You'll have to trust, Doctor, that we won't hurt you. I'm not underestimating what it will take for you to do that, and I was willing to move more slowly with you, but there's going to be competition for your custody now, do you get that? There isn't going to be much time to get things settled, and get you into our custody and protection.”

Bruce felt like the walls were starting to close in on him. He carefully pushed out of his chair, and inched around to the other side of the table.

“So... Director Fury? Were you crossing your fingers behind your back when you said I'd have safe passage out of here?” Bruce asked, his voice overly polite.

Steve also got out of his chair and stepped in front of Bruce, facing Fury.

“With all due respect, sir, you're behaving like a horse's ass. Doctor Banner cooperated with you when you brought him to the helicarrier. He could have run for safety during Loki's battle, and instead he chose to fight. He's one of my men, part of the team, and if he wants to leave now, we'll be escorting him.”

Fury eyed Steve and his expression was guarded. “The Avengers are disbanded, Captain America.”

“Maybe in S.H.I.E.L.D.'s eyes. Let me take roll call. Iron Man?” Steve sounded confident that Tony would back his play.

“With you, Cap.” Tony strode over and stood next to Bruce.

“Black Widow?” Natasha moved around the table to Bruce's other side.

Fury narrowed his eyes at her. “Romanoff. You're walking a dangerous line.”

Natasha shrugged, managing to convey a fatalistic attitude. “I always do, Nick.”

“Hawkeye?” Steve asked, his voice brisk, commanding.

“Yo.” Bruce glanced over and saw Barton's bow was in his hands. “I'll take his six.”

Steve glanced at Bruce, who nodded. Steve looked at Fury.

“We're leaving now, sir. You've made your offer to Doctor Banner, and if he decides to accept it, we'll let you know. I'll inform Hill that we're all taking three weeks off from any missions. Unless the world is about to be destroyed again, then give the Avengers a call.”

“You're insubordinate, Rogers.” Fury said mildly. Bruce wasn't fooled into thinking that meant that Steve had won this little throw-down.

“Yes, sir. If the situation calls for it, I'll follow my conscience. I thought you'd read my file, Director.”

He moved his hand in the classic soldier's gesture to move out.

They left without incident, not even getting raised eyebrows from those they passed in the hallways. Bruce supposed that S.H.I.E.L.D. employees got used to seeing weirder things than superheroes in formation surrounding a man carrying his backpack over one shoulder.

He didn't know why Steve had done that, or why the rest of them had gone along with it. Tony, sure, Tony, could afford to snub Fury, but Steve, Natasha, and Clint worked for the man. Steve had claimed him as one of his men, and during the battle that had been true. He'd followed Steve's orders. The other Avengers apparently saw Steve as their commander, whether they were gearing up to fight or not. He guessed the rest of them really had become a team, instead of the time bomb he'd called them on the helicarrier.

He didn't want them to be in trouble on his account, but he couldn't deny that he felt safer with them.

A short conversation between Tony, Steve, and Clint ended with them going out a different exit onto the roof of another building. They went to a row of helicopters and Clint climbed into the pilot's chair and started doing a pre-flight check. The rest of them took seats, and Bruce stowed his backpack. Steve passed out headphones. Clint started flicking switches and pushed the starter; the engine started to roar, and he heard the sound of the blades moving above him.

He really didn't have very good memories associated with helicopters. He'd been tracked by them, and trapped by them. Fallen out of them. The sounds surrounding him, inundating him, weren't pleasant.

He'd lost count of the number of helicopters he'd smashed. The other guy really found them annoying.

They were at Stark Tower in a matter of minutes. Clint skillfully landed the bird and shut the engine off, the rotors still whirling for a short time before they ceased motion. The others left the helicopter, but Bruce didn't. He closed his eyes and tried to make sense of the roiling thoughts in his head, taking a long, long moment before he took off his headphones, unbuckled his seat belt, and joined the others.

Tony looked gleeful and he waved his arms in an over-the-top welcoming gesture. “All right, go team! And hey, everybody can stay here. I've got tons of room. Seriously, I've been thinking that the Avengers need their own space. Firemen stay at the firehouse, right? Consider the upper floors here as our own clubhouse. I'll trick it out with all the bells and whistles. Pepper and I are looking over the plans for repairing the damage Loki did, and I figured we'd give everyone on the team their own floor. Fix you guys right up. It'll be great. Thor, too. We can't forget about our demi-god.”

Clint walked over to the broken concrete left from Loki being smashed into the floor by the other guy. He kicked at it a little, then raised his voice. “Hey, Stark. Got any beer in this place?”

Tony didn't answer Clint. Instead he looked quizzically at Bruce, then interrupted the conversations that had started sounding like so much buzzing to Bruce's ears. Making shooing motions with his hands towards the rest of them, he said, “Go on down, guys. I think Bruce and I need a moment.”

When they were alone, Clint waiting by the elevator but out of hearing range, Tony raised his eyebrows and asked, “What?”

Bruce began, “Tony...” but trailed off, not sure what to say. Thank you for giving me shelter? Just.... stop talking now? You can't build me my own floor, that's insane? Your closets are bigger than half the places I've stayed at in the last six years - I think I've got culture shock? I don't want to put you in danger of being arrested? Maybe I'll say yes to your job offer? Thanks, but I can't accept your job offer? Maybe Fury is right?

Tony moved closer. He softly rapped his knuckles against Bruce's temple. “Stop thinking so hard. First things first. You're safe here. JARVIS is on the case and the Avengers have appointed themselves as your bodyguards. Let's get some food into you, some scotch into me, and a beer for Clint. Natasha and Steve went to do a security assessment, and Pepper's downstairs talking to our lawyers. I texted her while Fury was harassing you. C'mon. Once we get that wide-eyed look off your face, I'll finally get to show you my workshops and labs.”

* * *

Bruce had met Pepper Potts briefly the night before after returning from the debriefing and impromptu pizza party. Tony had introduced him to her. He'd been curious to match a face with the name because Tony's voice had always shaded to a warmer hue whenever he'd mentioned her during the evening.

She had been gracious to him, although the flicker of wariness in her eyes gave away that she knew about the other guy. To Bruce, the conversation between Tony and her reminded him of couples who had been married for decades. She was subtle about it, but there was no mistaking the protectiveness that she felt toward Tony. There was also affection, tempered with a sense of intimacy: each was so known to the other that there was no mystery left to decipher. They were deeply comfortable with each other.

Bruce had been uncomfortable watching them, and he'd excused himself as soon as it had been polite, truthfully claiming he was too sleepy to talk to anybody.

Tony swept him along after they'd left the rooftop, Clint following them since he had apparently taken the first bodyguard shift. Feeling a little shell-shocked, and not having any better ideas about what he should do, Bruce decided that he'd roll with whatever was happening.

* * *

Tony pointed to a chair at the big table. “Sit down, Bruce.” He opened up the huge stainless steel refrigerator and dragged out cheese and some deli packages. Mustard. Pickles.

Bruce glanced behind him and saw that Clint was by the door, talking on his phone. He did as Tony asked, and watched as Tony's quick hands built him a ham and cheese sandwich and slid it on a plate.

Tony said, “You know, if you had to be outed, maybe this was a good time for it to go down. Sure, watching you go from Big Green to regular guy is cool, but the major news stations have bigger fish to fry. They've been running coverage on the attack on Manhattan pretty much nonstop, and you're not around to interview during this initial interest in your story. I think you can expect the media to show the Hulk kicking Chitauri ass and pictures of you being a professor. Maybe some earlier footage of the Hulk busting out of Culver University, and there was some decent film of you putting down the Abomination that probably will be used.”

Bruce sighed. “If I had ten dollars? I'd bet you that General Thunderbolt Ross will make a stink. You know he made me out to be a domestic terrorist, right? Or maybe you didn't know that when you made the weapons to capture me.”

Tony grabbed some pineapple-orange juice from the fridge and handed it and the plate to Bruce. “I was the hired help and Ross didn't give me details. I didn't know about the metamorphosis. I didn't know you were even a man, let alone you.”

Bruce twisted off the cap and took a sip. “Well, everybody knows now.”

“So hang out here with me, let things die down. Fury's a super spy bastard, but he knows what he's doing, and S.H.I.E.L.D. will do damage control. Something else will catch the public's eye and be splashed all over the Internet. You'll be yesterday's news. And you know, that old guy thought you were a hero. That's got to help.”

“Uh-huh. Sure.” Bruce flashed on all the damage he'd done as the Hulk, the people he'd traumatized and hurt. Killed.

“Are you questioning that you're a hero, or that the old man's video will help?” Tony grabbed his shoulder and Bruce stopped turning the juice bottle around and around in his hands.

Bruce shrugged, and took another sip of juice.

“Okay, Bruce. Just... okay. But don't think this discussion is over.” He let go, and rummaged around in the cupboards until he'd found a bottle of scotch that Bruce felt safe in guessing cost as much as he'd made in two months at the bottling company in Rio De Janeiro.

Clint slipped his cell phone into his jeans, and headed straight for the food on the counter. He made himself a sandwich and snagged a cold beer, then sat down three chairs away from Bruce. Clint still seemed to prefer not to be too close to Bruce, despite sitting near him earlier. He still didn't know if it was to make him feel more at ease, or if Clint just wanted some space. He remembered doing the same thing when he was a kid, though. He'd made it a habit not to be within arm's reach of his father.

Maybe he and Clint had something in common besides fighting against Loki. Not that he was going to ask about it, though. He also wasn't going to ask how Clint was doing after being mind-washed by Loki. Clint had been determinedly trying to come across as back in the saddle, and Bruce didn't know him well enough to challenge him if he was faking it. Bruce faked a lot of stuff himself, so he wasn't going to throw stones and knock down someone else's carefully constructed house of cards.

Tony slid onto a seat across from Bruce and sipped his drink. Bruce ate his food, drank the juice, and then stared at his hands as he ran a thumb over his left knuckles over and over as he listened to Tony and Clint.

Tony said, with an air of upittyness, “Well, this is all very domestic.” Then he added, in a normal tone of voice, “I kind of like it. So Clint, when I make the Avengers living quarters here, and of course everybody is welcome to stay full-time, or just when they want, what kind of awesome, cool stuff should I include? What's on Natasha's Christmas list?”

Clint grinned, eyes lighting up with enjoyment, and Bruce realized that Clint was probably a Class A enabler.

Clint said, “Nat? A really big bathtub to soak in, and an inside firing range. Oh, and Cap seems fond of tearing up punching bags, according to S.H.I.E.L.D. gossip.”

“Go on, go on. Sky's the limit, so don't be coy. So, extra large bathtubs, firing range, work out rooms, a gym?” Tony had gotten out his phone and was making notes.

“For training, yeah. And super-soldier proof gymnastic equipment. Hey, how about an indoor archery range? You know I can keep going on this theme, Tony. Stop me when I hit your budget ceiling.”

“Barton, have you met me? I'm rich. Keep going.” Tony made grabby hands.

Clint chuckled and finished his beer. “Okay, Sugar Daddy. What else, what else? Oh, a climbing wall. A tough one. Really, really high. And how about a place to watch movies? Natasha and I love them. Just think how many movies Steve has missed. It's our duty to help him catch up. Do you think he'd like Star Wars?”

Bruce tuned Tony and Clint out. All of these plans sounded unreal to him. Was Tony really going to turn over some of this valuable real estate and make it into the Avengers' deluxe living quarters and training areas? And would the other team members feel comfortable living like that? Being here was so different from how he'd lived the last six years.

Even when he'd just been Bruce Banner, biophysicist researcher at Culver, he hadn't had much of an apartment. Betty had often told him she despaired of his taste. She'd been joking, teasing, but he could see her point. He just didn't care much about things like furniture and appliances. He'd banked his paycheck and continued to live like the poverty-stricken grad student he'd once been. He'd had a vague notion of turning the money over to her if they got married, to help pay for a house, or maybe start college funds for their children.

That bank account had been seized by the government when he'd been labeled an alleged domestic terrorist, after the Culver lab blew up. Under that classification there'd been a lot of justification for what Ross had done to find him. If he was ever going to live again in the States, openly under his own name, there was a huge legal mess to untangle. He might be given the death penalty, or life in prison, if actual charges were brought against him in court. He shuddered, thinking of the Hulk's reaction to lethal injection or the electric chair. When it came down to survival, the other guy was in charge, not him.

And now, not just covert groups like S.H.I.E.L.D. and Ross's strike team, but anybody who had seen those videos knew who he was. He hoped that people would lose interest in him soon, like Tony had suggested. Running would be more difficult now, and he probably should just hole up here for at least a few days more.

A bottle cap flicked against his fingers and he looked over at Tony. Clint had left the table and he hadn't even noticed, he'd been so lost in his own thoughts. Bruce looked up and saw Clint sitting cross-legged up on the counter, watching the two of them.

Tony said, “Cut it out, Bruce. You're thinking doom and gloom over there, but I got Pepper on this, and she's got mad skills when it comes to managing superheroes' bad publicity. I gave her tons of experience. She texted me, she's on her way up right now. We'll get you some other options besides Fury's offer.”

“A superhero? Not even close. Do you even know I've got blood on my hands?”

“I know you see it that way. I understand that. I see it the same way when it comes to the weapons I made that landed in the wrong hands. We can't fix the past, Bruce. Just have to move on and make changes. I think you already know that, because I don't think you were indulging in a fetish when you were playing doctor.”

Clint sniggered, and they both looked at him. Clint held out his hands in a gesture of apology, but the amused look on his face never changed. “Sorry for ruining a dramatically tense moment full of angst, but fetish? Really, Tony?”

Bruce had a montage of images flood through his brain, setting bones and treating people for malaria and Lassa fever, taking the pulse of tiny babies, the hours of short sleep and making do with too little for too many. The deaths that had occurred anyway, when medical attention had come too late. He knew he'd saved lives, though. He'd slept better at night after spending the day trying to help others.

He shrugged. “There wasn't much need for a biophysicist in the places I ended up.”

Tony leaned closer to him. “Well, I've got a need for a genius level biophysicist who can think the way you do. I've read all of your published research, Doctor Banner. Your work is amazing. You were wasted at Culver. Seriously, I will build you your dream lab. C'mon, we could totally rock the science world with our awesome partnership. Can I offer you a bribe? Entice you, seduce you into saying yes?”

Tony grinned at him, mischievous, attractive, and Bruce accepted that yes, Tony could seduce him, and not just into becoming lab partners. It would be hard to resist him if he ever extended an invitation to sleep with him.

But that would only end in frustration for both of them. Bruce didn't trust himself when it came to participating in sex and feeling the build up of an orgasm with a partner. It had been different when he'd bargained for passage and protection in exchange for a guy using him sexually. He didn't get aroused. They hadn't cared if he came or not. It hadn't been an issue. He hadn't trusted himself with Betty, and didn't trust himself with Tony.

Besides, it was a moot point. The point in question had just walked into the kitchen.

Tony was with Pepper. Beautiful and clever Pepper Potts with her big blue eyes and strawberry blonde hair and her freckled girl-next-door look.

Pepper walked over to Tony and he snagged her hand, brought it up to his mouth and kissed it.

“Miss Potts. Did you miss me?”

She smiled down at him. “Mr. Stark.”

The smile changed when looked over at Bruce. She was professional again. “Doctor Banner, it's nice to see you again.”

She gently disengaged her hand and moved around the table to sit down next to Bruce. “You know Tony asked me to talk to our law firm about your situation, don't you, Doctor Banner?”

He nodded.

“Well, let me go over what the probable legal issues are, as they see them, and what strategies they would take in your defense. This is just the basics, you understand. The firm will talk to you personally, if you agree to be represented.”

“I, ah, understand, and thank you.”

She gave him that tight professional smile again. “Thank Tony, Doctor Banner. He thinks very highly of you.”

But you think it's a mistake for me to stay here, he thought, avoiding looking at Tony, who was uncharacteristically quiet. Probably she doesn't want to be housemates since the other guy might show up. But maybe there was another reason, and he really didn't think he'd given away that he was attracted to her boyfriend. Maybe something... legal. She'd been warmer last night to him.

Miss Potts laid her Starktablet on the table and started bringing up files. With deft and sure movements of her hands, the information floated up in front of them.

“To begin with, you're looking at issues with sections 802, and 806 of The Patriot Act, in addition to 42 U.S.C.A. Sec. 262a and 7 U.S.C.A. Sec. 840, which regulates biological agents and toxins...”

* * *

Tony was smart. And manipulative. And smart. Bruce had been prepared to be amazed at the quality of the lab equipment, the multiple floors devoted to R & D, the state of the art computer system and volumetric interfaces, the clever and elegant design of the Iron Man suits. The sheer brilliance of Tony's practical applications with robotics. Amazed, but not swayed to stay and play with the cool toys.

Instead Tony had detoured into the lab where he was analyzing the Chitauri tech. He threw his research up into multiple volumetric displays and set the hook.

“I thought you'd like a quick peek, before I show off the line of StarkSmart kitchen and household appliances. Toasters and vacuum cleaners will never be the same, I tell you. And I'm working on a coffee machine that you can program to play whatever music you want to tell you the coffee is ready or that time's up.” He softly sang, One more cup of coffee for the road... da, da-da-da da, da. I'm not as fond of Dylan as I am of Black Sabbath - for obvious reasons -- but some of his stuff really hits home. Ozzy singing Masters of War - wish I'd paid attention to that years ago.”

He stepped back and gestured for Bruce to take a look.

Bruce maneuvered his way through the screens floating before him. He looked over at Tony in confusion. Tony grinned knowingly back at him. This wasn't machinery, this was cell samples. Alien biology. The Pacific Bioscience Sequencer data was an even bigger surprise. “Tony, where'd you get the single pass long strand DNA results?”

“We borrowed the sequencer from one of the research labs that the government funded last year. Apparently there's some fine print on those contracts. I'm sure they weren't very happy to have the MIB descend and pack it up. Fury wanted to limit access to the research on the Chitauri, so the sequencer was set up here in the next lab. Very, very classified. Stick around, kiddo, and I'll buy you a brand new one. I went ahead and ran a sample, but feel free to play with it. The result time isn't too shabby. You could start a new sample and have more data in a couple of hours.”

“Mm. You've started some light scattering tests.” Bruce looked around the lab and spotted the HPLC Sec laser equipment. “Is that commandeered, too?”

“Yep. I really hadn't needed a biophysics and genetics lab before, so things are a little makeshift. You could help me out, get it set up right. I'm an engineer at heart, and I want to play with reverse engineering their armor and those scooters. Say yes, be a pal. Oh, hey, you should check out the microscopes.” Tony's tone turned wheedling. “I can get my hands on the newest model 3-D electron microscope. It's very shiny.”

Bruce felt a pang of envy. “Unless I snuck into labs while I was moving around, I had to make do with microscopes a high school kid would use. I'm out of touch with the latest models. I've never even seen a 3-D prototype.”

He'd had to abandon his makeshift lab equipment countless times. He decided not to mention that to Tony. There was enough of The Prince and the Pauper going on here without adding to it.

Tony said, “Do you use Matlab? I'm betting you used it, didn't you? It's a fairly reliable clunker, got a few quirks, but you probably know how to work around them. It's available here. Sometime soon, I'll show you what I'm using to code up my genius math. Baby, it's like a Ferrari. I'd love to take you with me for a spin.”

“Well, maybe just around the block. Tony, I don't know if me staying is such a good idea. I'll think about it.”

Bruce turned back to the fascinating data floating in front of him and began to read it more carefully.

Ten hours later, after Bruce and Tony had emptied two coffee pots and eaten something that he vaguely recalled stuffing in his mouth, and, written an astounding number of equations, he came down from his science high.

Tony Stark was a god-damned pusher. Once he'd gotten Bruce hooked, he'd moved to another station in the lab and worked on his own research. He'd played rock-n-roll all night long, although Bruce guessed Tony hadn't absolutely blasted it at ear-deafening levels in deference to him.

Tony had wandered over from time to time and fed him a little more of his theories about how the alien machinery had interfaced with the Chitauri. Tony said he was working on reverse-engineering what had been salvaged. Bruce had a different angle. He wanted to understand the aliens on a molecular level. The Chitauri and their machines had been like puppets with their strings cut when Tony had blown up their parent ship. There had been a connection built into both life form and machines. It was a beautiful mystery and curiosity had always been his weakness.

He didn't know if he wanted to punch Tony or kiss him for sucking him into his Candyland. Hell, it wasn't Candyland. That game was cute and fun and only had minor setbacks to navigate before you finished playing and put it away. No, Tony Stark's labs were Willie Wonka's Chocolate Factory and he'd been given a golden ticket. A person could spend a lifetime here.

Wants and needs. He might want to stay, but was it what he needed? What Tony and the rest of the team needed?

He double checked the analysis from the bi-spectral fluorescent spectrophotometer and wrote a few notes before he quit working, including a list for Tony of lab equipment a top-notch biophysics and genetics lab would include. He walked toward the lab exit with his eyes aching and feeling stiff. Tony wasn't around, he'd probably been collected by Ms. Potts hours ago.

He didn't realize that Steve was on guard duty, sitting quietly by the door, until he almost stumbled into him. Steve had been sketching, but he closed the pad and stood up.

“Doctor Banner. You look tired. Are you hungry? It's been awhile since you and Tony ate that pizza.”

So that was what he had eaten.

“Um... do I have you to thank for that?”

“Yes. But I bet you can't tell me what kind of pizza it was.”

“You win that bet. Ah... Are you guys really going to take turns guarding me? I mean, that's not really necessary, is it?”

“We'll shadow you until the rest of the security changes are implemented for the building. Fury might change his mind and decide you need to be in protective custody with S.H.I.E.L.D., but we think that's not too likely. But we want to be prepared in case Hydra or anyone else tries to kidnap you. Let me walk you to your room, or wherever you were headed.”

Bruce avoided saying, “I'm headed to my room.” Instead, he answered, “I just need to do a few things to clear my head and then I'm going to bed.”

If he started saying my room, my labs, it could soon become, my home. Best not to start down that slippery-slope.

They walked along in a comfortable silence until they got on the elevator. When Bruce cleared his throat, Steve looked over at him.

“Steve, you've been working with S.H.I.E.L.D. since you woke up. Do you think they can be trusted?”

“Not entirely. They're not very straightforward. Devious, even. They tried to make me think that it was still the forties when I woke up. And they were working on weapons derived from the huge robot that Loki sent to New Mexico. Tony and I found them on the helicarrier. But I think they're needed, and I think they need the Avengers: all of us, scientists, spies, soldiers. And we need the Hulk. Without your help the battle might have gone the other way.”

“Fury hard-balling me? Not going to work. He thinks he can make me choose S.H.I.E.L.D. so I don't get thrown to the wolves, but I'd rather run.” Bruce realized he was lacing his fingers together again and shoved them down deep in his pockets.

Bruce stared at the control panel and avoided looking at Steve. “And... joining the Avengers? I think I'd drag down the rest of you, because, well, Thor is an alien prince, and Tony's origin story as Iron Man is heroic. Barton's a master archer, but he trained for it, people will respect what it took to become that good. Natasha's human, and a kick-ass fighter. But if I'm the other guy, then people are seeing a monster. Fury was right: there's going to be a backlash and I think it's going to focus on me.”

“Doctor Banner, you joined the Avengers when you rode up on that motorcycle and threw in with us. I don't think I'll ever forget watching you turn and walk so calmly down the street toward that hell serpent.”

When they got off the elevator, Steve put a hand on his shoulder. Bruce turned and found himself reluctantly looking up into Steve's eyes.

“I know becoming the Hulk made your life a living hell. But there is such tremendous strength in your anger. If the Chitauri come again, we're going to need that strength. And you understand things about the world that I never will. All of these qualities that you have, the Avengers need. As for S.H.I.E.L.D.? I think you can take them or leave them. If you decide to work with them, you can make your own bargain with Fury. Maybe consult as a scientist, but not develop weapons. You don't like being in S.H.I.E.L.D.'s territory? Work out of Tony's labs instead.”

Bruce fought the impulse to look away. He'd opened up this discussion by asking Steve's opinion, but he'd always found it hard to talk about how things were with him.

Steve had lost everybody in his life when he'd been frozen for so many years. Bruce could stop being so self-centered and ask Steve how he was handling the rotten things that had happened to him.

He swallowed. “Uh, thanks. Thanks for talking with me. And Steve, how are you doing? I can't even imagine how it must feel to wake up seventy years later in a strange world. It's got to be a hundred times worse than waking up in another country with no money or clothes and not speaking the language.”

Steve nodded. “I broke out of S.H.I.E.L.D.'s headquarters and ran out into the streets. Everything was so bizarre. All the people I loved - gone from me, one way or another. I felt useless, a stale leftover, and angry. Maybe in a way I understand how the Hulk feels. I've punched the stuffing out of a lot of gym equipment. But it's getting better. Agreeing to be an Avenger, that's been good. Although I had my doubts at first. I wasn't sure my teammates and I were going to be able to pull together. Well, you saw how Tony and I clashed at first. But we understand each other now. I'm more of a big picture person; his nature is to be a specialist, and concentrate on what he's really good at doing, although he could be a commander if needed. I think he gave me a hard time until I proved to him I could handle the job; then he was content to let me be in charge. He's showed that when he's needed, Tony Stark will lay down his life to protect others. I respect that about him. I respect all of our teammates. That includes you, Doctor Banner.”

Steve's hand felt so heavy on his shoulder, like an anchor tying him to Steve, to the team. But he didn't know if wanted that.

Bruce said awkwardly, “The respect? It's mutual.”

Steve moved his hand and cupped the back of Bruce's neck for the space of several heartbeats before letting him go. That surprised Bruce. He guessed that being tactile was something Steve and Tony had in common, since they both had no hesitation about touching him.

Bruce took his hands out of his pockets and fiddled with the hem of his shirt. He said, “I think I'm going to take a shower, and do some yoga and meditate. You're welcome to stay. It's okay if you want to sketch me.”

Steve smiled at him and said, “I'd like that Doctor Banner. I'll stay by the door so I can keep an eye on the hallway, if you don't mind the door being open.”

“I don't mind.”

* * *

He dreamed again of running, but everywhere he dodged or hid, people would point to him and say his name. Then he took down a helicopter by throwing part of a tank he'd demolished into the rotors. After that, Iron Man asked him to sit down on the grass and play Candyland with him. He tried to refuse but Tony took off his suit and he was wearing his Black Sabbath T-shirt and jeans again, and bartered that if Bruce played Candyland with him, then he would give Bruce a blow-job.

He woke up then, hard and aching and annoyed. He cursed Tony's mouth for giving him dreams like that and then turned his thoughts to only mildly stimulating sexual fantasies. He came with a weak orgasm, but it took the edge off his sexual frustration. Masturbation was his only sexual outlet.

Sighing, he turned on his side and stared at the far wall. He'd never had many lovers. Betty was the last person he'd tried to have intercourse with that he cared about, and they'd had to stop when he felt his heart start to go into overdrive. He was terrified that if his heartbeat approached two hundred beats a minute, the other guy would appear.

He was a scientist, so of course he had approached this problem with the scientific method. He'd done the research and he had his hypothesis. It was too dangerous to proceed to actually experimenting. He would take chances with his own body, but he drew the line at involving other people.

He knew that part of the reason his heart would speed up during the arousal stage of sex was due to fear that he'd transform. It was a convoluted, Gordian knot that he saw no way of untangling. Maybe the Hulk wouldn't hurt his partner, but he refused to take that risk.

He could feel his heart start to race just thinking about how Betty had looked in the hospital, so fragile, so damaged. It had been his fault. He'd hurt her the first time the Hulk took him over.

Under the covers, he drew his hands into fists. It made him angry every time he thought about how the Hulk had destroyed any hope of having a lover. A normal life. And that was his own fault, wasn't it? He would take that anger and absorb it, because this was his life and there was no use crying about it. He'd been done with tears a long time ago.

He shoved the blanket down and got out of bed, and made his hands relax. He practiced deep breathing until the sharp edges of his rage receded, then he meditated for an hour. He brought the other guy up to the point of almost emerging and then he let him slide back into the depths of his soul.

He showered then and pulled clothes out of his backpack. Dressing in his other pair of chinos, he chose a loose blue kurtha shirt, which was a little worn but not as shabby as the other two. He remembered the old woman in Kolkata who had offered to swap her deceased son's shirt for medical care for her grandchildren. He never insisted people pay him, but he didn't turn down offers either. And he had needed another shirt.

He tried to look more professional when he was seeing patients, so they would respect him. He'd been wearing better clothes, a suit jacket, an orange Indian style shirt, the night Natasha had met with him. He'd replace his clothes sometime after things settled down. Not that there was much rush. He doubted he'd be working as a doctor for a while, anyway.

He sat on the bed and opened the pad Steve had left for him on top of the dresser, there in plain sight when he'd gotten up, along with a note that the building was secured now and that if he needed anybody to ask JARVIS for them.

He was curious to see Steve's work. He'd always heard Captain America had been an artist, but he'd never seen any of his drawings.

He looked slowly and carefully at each page. Steve had sketched Clint with his bow ready to shoot, grim and focused, and also sitting cross-legged on the counter, grinning. Natasha he'd drawn in profile and her expression reminded him of a lioness, watchful and deadly. He'd also drawn her riding on one of the Chitauri's scooters, looking dangerous and intent.

There was one of her and Clint almost touching each other, they were so close as they stood side by side, Natasha turning to whisper something in his ear.

Steve was good. More than good, because Bruce was transfixed staring at how he'd illuminated that almost hidden intimacy between Clint and Natasha. It made his chest ache, to see it shown like that.

There was Thor swinging his hammer, and smiling widely, dressed in his armor. Loki, in his horned helmet, and Steve had caught that bag of cats for a brain look that Bruce had seen in Thor's brother.

Iron Man hovering in the air, graceful and elegant. Tony and Bruce, heads close together, talking in the lab on the helicarrier, smiling at each other. Bruce touched the picture of Tony in his suit, and thought about what it had taken for Tony Stark to become Iron Man.

He frowned at the sketch of Nick Fury striding through the command center on board, his long coat swirling as he walked, the power that he held evident in his posture, his expression. He wasn't quite Bruce's enemy, but he for damn sure wasn't his friend. He wondered if Fury had any friends, or if his entire life was devoted to S.H.I.E.L.D.

One of the leviathans falling from the sky. Thor on a skyscraper, calling lightning to his hammer. They could be illustrations for a fantasy novel and it had taken place in the streets outside Tony's tower. It still felt unreal.

Bruce, hair wild, looking disheveled with his untucked borrowed shirt, half-turned to look backwards, a resigned, calm look on his face as he walked toward a huge leviathan coming straight at him and dwarfing him. Was this really how Steve had seen him at that moment?

The Hulk, muscles straining, shirt falling off him in tatters as he threw himself towards the leviathan.

Tony with his arm around Bruce outside the shawarma restaurant, and he winced when he saw how Steve had shown how utterly exhausted Bruce had felt.

Bruce and Tony in the lab at Stark Tower, so engrossed in looking at a display that they were a hair away from touching. He didn't remember that he'd been so close to Tony.

A sketch from last night showed Bruce wearing boxers and one of Tony's T-shirts, hair messy and hands open on his knees in a lotus position, eyes closed, face calm, meditating.

Tony smiling with a pleased, smug look, sitting at a table with a large mug of coffee. That expression seemed to be Tony's favorite. He was just so amused at stirring things up.

Cap's shield spinning through the air, after cleaving the head off a Chitauri.

Thor, clasping arms with Natasha before leaving for Asgard. He was so huge and she was so small, but Steve drew them both as wielding power.

Steve had a gift. War had diverted him from being a professional artist, he knew that from his history lessons, but Captain America's talent had survived his long immersion in the ice.

Bruce closed the sketchbook, found his shoes, and went to give Steve back his art.

* * *

Cont'd in 4/5