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*****
Stark Industries had a corporate office in Silicon Valley for the non-Tony part of their R&D division. It was tastefully understated for a building that belonged to Tony despite being about ten floors taller than any of the other skyscrapers that surrounded it. There was also a noted lack of ‘Stark’ on the side in huge bold letters, which placed it among the top 10 in terms of tastefulness.
Three basement and ten above-ground levels were dedicated to R&D labs, with the actual ground to third floor breaking the configuration and serving as reception and offices for management. The top three levels had been furnished as penthouse suites for the CEO (and Chief R&D Officer, now that they are no longer one and the same) to use when visiting on-site.
Bruce wasn’t sure how Tony managed to use up three floors as living quarters when he was visiting before - especially when some of the broom closets in the place were the size of his old dorm rooms. But compared to the Avengers’ Tower back in New York, the place was practically a broom closet itself. As he leaned in for the retina scan for the special executive elevator that would take him to the suites, he noted ruefully that he had gotten spoiled - he was used to Jarvis’s unobtrusive bio-scans that granted the team automatic entry, and even sort of missed the accented, polite greeting that usually met him at the door.
But it had been a bad, bad month, and he didn’t want to dwell on the little things that would just make him think of why they were here instead of New York. Because that would just make him angry, and the Hulk containment unit was just properly installed in the unused top floor suites yesterday. It would be horribly ironic to be forced to use it so soon when he managed to hold it together for this long.
The elevator reached the second-to-highest floor, with the suites that were currently housing his team. The doors chimed as they slid open, and Bruce blinked.
“Clint, why are you in the ceiling?” He asked after a pause, stepping out of the elevator and into their foyer.
Their sharpshooter was visible from about thigh-down, standing on a ladder. Bruce only recognized him because of the bow and quiver set next to the ladder, along with a few rolls of ethernet cable and optical cords. Some of the marble tiles on the floor had been pried up to reveal concrete and power lines. There might’ve been open holes along the wall.
“That you, Bruce?” A moment later, Clint backed out and peered down at him. “Hey, glad you found your tea, man.” He said with a nod toward the bag that Bruce was holding. “Tony’s having us do some remodeling, he said that I need to be in the ceiling. You gotta ask him for the details.”
“Is that Bruce?” He heard Tony yell from their de facto living room. “Thank god, Bruce! Please come save me!”
Bemused, the sometimes scientist, sometimes green rage machine headed for the living room. “I was only gone for three hours, Tony...what have you done to the place?”
The living room was in complete disarray - the huge plasma screen TV was showing what appeared to be footage from several security cameras, there were cables and wires and power cords everywhere, several holes in the ceiling, walls and floors, and Tony Stark himself sitting amidst the chaos, like a king on his throne.
The effect was somewhat ruined by the fact that his right arm and left leg were in casts and the man himself looked like he lost a fight with a truck. A simple button up shirt hid the bandages that he knew covered the entirety of his teammate’s back, but nothing could really hide the bruises on his face and the dark circles under his eyes. Despite that, Bruce realized with pleased surprise that it was genuine excitement on Tony’s face, and this was the most energetic he had seen the other man in weeks.
Tony pecked at the laptop balanced precariously on the coffee table overflowing with parts and looked up with a grin. “Finally! Here, take this,” Bruce found himself the proud handler of what appeared to be a flash drive. “The download’s almost finished and Thor can’t be there cuz he wrecks havoc with delicate electronics and Steve can’t tell a harddrive from a memory card and I need Natasha and Clint on the wiring and cable running. I can run this from the laptop’s here but that needs to go there,” he gestured with his casted arm to the other side of the room, where there was a panel set up with another screen, black with green text like the matrix. “I’d hobble,” another wave, this time towards the crutch leaning at the foot of the sofa, “But then Steve would give me another lecture about tripping and breaking my neck, and it would all just end in tears.”
“We can’t have that.” Bruce answered mildly, walking the flashdrive over to the panel as requested. “So, this goes where?”
“Hold a sec...” a chime, and then Bruce heard the quiet but distinct *pop* of their team comms coming online. “Barton, you got the cables connected?”
The TV was actually showing footage of their teammates, Bruce realized when the dark blur on the upper right corner screen evolved into a grainy view of Clint in the ceiling. There was another brighter screen that showed Natasha on the roof, arm-deep in the guts of some generator looking thing. Thor in the skies above her, coasting easily with his hammer, and Steve in the mainframe room, looking a bit like a fish out of water.
“Locked and loaded!” Clint answered.
“Natasha?”
“All ready here.”
“And Steve. You pressed the yellow button, right?”
“Yes,” Steve answered, sounding a bit exasperated. “You asked me to reset the modem, Tony, it’s not THAT hard.”
“Right, right.” Tony pecked out some more commands on his laptop. “Alright, Bruce buddy. Plug her in.”
**
He had cannibalized a lot of the processing power and connections from the mainframe servers that ran in his R&D division and the wireless here had always been blindingly fast, so it only took a split second for his laptop to display the ‘Install program?’ popup once Bruce plugged in the drive. Tony carefully typed in ‘Yes’ because it would be really stupid to ruin all the setup at this point just because he hit the wrong keys, and then waited.
“...I almost expected an explosion.” Bruce admitted from beside him, coming over to sit on the arm of the couch. “What’s supposed to happen?”
“Oh, nothing for now,” Tony answered. “It’s still loading. Should be quick, though,” Even as he spoke, the status bar progressed from barely anything to almost full. There were sounds of footsteps and one by one, their other teammates made their ways back to the living room.
“This had better be good, Stark,” Natasha said calmly, picking out a dust bunny from her hair. Clint reached over and brushed out another one, a move that Tony was fairly certain would’ve earned anyone else that attempted it a forceful separation of hand and wrist by Natasha.
“No faith, people, sheesh,” Tony’s attention went back to the laptop when it chimed at him. A popping noise interrupted whatever he planned to say next, the suite’s comms (as opposed to the Avengers’ comms) coming on with a tiny bit of feedback. Tony winced and shut the team’s comms off with a few keystrokes.
The computerized voice piping through the speakers was unfamiliar, generic. Something that will be corrected soon, he hoped. “Installation of program aes_jv3578i.exe completed. No errors found. Would you like to run program now?”
“Yes,” he called.
“Voice print accepted. Thank you, Mister Stark. Commence program run, please wait.” A pause during which Steve and Thor came in and also made themselves comfortable. Unfortunately that meant the couch got a little crowded. Tony judiciously applied his elbows, which were probably the only part of him not hurting, and won himself maybe half an inch of space on either side.
Thor seemed to think it was a game and dropped a heavy arm with biceps as big as his head around his shoulders. “Hey! Personal space!” Tony declared indignantly.
A chime, then, a familiar, British-accented voice. “Good afternoon, Mr. Stark. Avengers.”
A chorus of “Jarvis!” sounded, ranging from plainly surprised to surprised and pleased. Tony added, “Save me!” when Thor laughed and hugged him harder.
“As Master Thor’s actions do not seem hostile, It does not appear that you are in need of rescue at this time, sir.” Jarvis responded politely. “And perhaps Master Thor has the right idea, I believe the doctors prescribed modified bedrest?”
“Jarvis is right,” Steve said over Tony’s ‘how is crushing me ‘the right idea’?’, “Now that he’s here with us, you’re going right back to bed.”
“No way! The deal was that I get Jarvis installed and you guys stop - Thor, stop-stoppit!” Tony did not yelp when Thor scooped him up and stood in one motion. “That you guys stop mother-henning me. Put me down, I’m not a sack of potatoes!”
“Nay, friend Tony,” Thor boomed cheerfully. “Thou art much more weighty than a sack of potatoes.”
“Are you calling me FAT?” Tony did not shriek.
“It’s all that ego.” Natasha said blandly, watching as Thor headed off with Tony, trailed by Steve and Bruce. Clint waved.
“I’ll get you! I’ll get you all!” Tony howled, defiant.
**
Bruce peered into Tony’s room about an hour later, after he and the team had a light lunch in the kitchen, since the living room and dining rooms were currently a mess from Tony’s impromptu remodeling. Thor had been adamant that Tony was peacefully sleeping when he had left, but Bruce had a tray of soup and sandwiches in case Tony was awake. It looked like despite of (or perhaps, because of) all the excitement and despite himself, Tony really had succumbed to his body’s demand for rest.
“Jarvis?” Bruce asked softly as he set the tray down on the nightstand and pulled up the armchair they had liberated from the front sitting room - they had rated all the chairs in the suite and determined that one to be the most comfortable. It was now permanently in Tony’s room, by his bed. “Did Tony take his meds already?”
“Yes, Dr. Banner. And if you would be so kind as to provide me with the schedule, I can set up reminders for Master Stark.” Jarvis replied, also at a lowered volume. Bruce sat himself down and pulled out the tablet that he had been working with and pulled up the dizzying array of painkillers, antibiotics, mood-stabilizers (not that Tony ever really took them) and heart medication (or that, either) that the doctors had prescribed, ‘just in case’.
“Here. Though you can consider the mood stabilizers and heart stuff optional.” Bruce laughed softly. “Tony’s refused to take them every time, so far, but it’s a great excuse for waking him up.”
“Sir?”
“In case he has nightmares.” He clarified, reaching out to tug the blanket up just a little bit from where Tony had kicked them to about waist level. “I’m sure he’s bitched to you about us already.”
“Master Stark has updated me on recent events, yes.” Jarvis answered. Bruce could almost hear the AI’s significant pause. “...and if I may say so, you and the team have my gratitude for watching out for Master Stark in my absence.”
“It’s the least we could do.” Bruce replied. Tony sniffled a little and buried his face more firmly in his pillow before settling again. He could tell Tony really was asleep and not faking it - they had all taken turns in the last two weeks sitting with their teammate, which was probably at least half the reason that Tony was so annoyed with them. Of course, they wouldn’t have to do that if Tony would stay put and rest like he was supposed to, and not do dumb things like trying to work in his lab with lots of broken bones, a concussion, and mental trauma.
So, they let him bitch and rave, but went and did their own things anyway. Natasha had handed the private nurse that visited in the first week a tube of...something. Aloe gel, Bruce found out later, for the cuts that covered the entirety of Tony’s back. Clint took to obsessively patrolling the premises, which nearly caused a few heart attacks because that man could move more quietly than a cat and occasionally popped out of the ceiling. Both of them, arguably the other ‘normal’ humans of the group, casually dragged Tony into ruthless heckling sessions of spy and heist movies. Thor, in turn, had merely declared loudly that he would serve as ‘arms and legs for my wounded shield-brother in his time of need!’, which to Tony’s horror meant that he wasn’t allowed to walk anywhere on his own.
If the situation wasn’t so serious, Bruce would have to admit it was pretty hilarious to see Thor carry Tony everywhere, the Asgardian with aplomb and the human with extreme displeasure. Tony had grumbled, “I don’t think I’ve actually walked anywhere on my own power in three days,” over breakfast yesterday.
Pepper and Steve took turns dragging Tony away from his tablet, making him eat, rest, and at the same time, running the intel-gathering session on the attack and kidnapping from behind the scenes with Coulson with iron fists. Natasha joined their discussions sometimes, her expression bland but something flashing dark behind her eyes.
And Bruce...Bruce did what he could, because there was no target to unleash the Hulk on right now, even if he could feel the dark rage simmering in his veins every waking moment. He came up with increasingly complicated theories in obscure scientific disciplines and brought them to Tony so they could tear it apart and build it up again, together, all without Tony having to lift a finger. He took as many of the night shifts as he could, so that as soon as a nightmare started, he could wake Tony under the false pretense that it was time for those pills that he never took.
“It was the least that we can do.” Bruce repeated softly, because until they could find the people responsible for hurting one of their own, for putting the dark, haunted look back in Tony’s eyes...there really was nothing else he could do.
**
If you lined the Avengers up at the very beginning and asked Tony to pick out the best cook, he probably would’ve picked Natasha or Steve. Of course, that was kind of stupid in retrospect, because Bruce was a genius scientist that happened to also have traveled extensively all over the world. Not that Steve or Natasha weren’t good cooks - Natasha made some truly awesome savory baked goods and Steve had all the American staples down like the back of his hand, but Bruce - Bruce had a way with spices and a deep and thorough understanding of how heat reacts with all the ingredients that go into his pan.
“You’re thinking about science again, aren’t you?” Clint muttered into his coffee. Tony blinked blearily at him.
“Omelet.” He said intelligently.
Bruce was chuckling. “It’s almost done, Tony.” He looked down at the fluffy yellow delicious thing he was currently flipping. “Hm, maybe a bit more salt.”
“You optimize omelets.” Tony said. “I can never optimize omelets.” He had the same ingredients, even, and possibly even better grasp of how heat reacts with everything...except maybe that was how heat reacts with metals, not proteins.
“Okaaay,” Clint drawled, refilling his coffee and pouring Tony one too. Tony decided that Clint was awesome. “Are you on the regular painkillers or the extra strong painkillers? Because you’re being crazier than usual.”
The coffee was good and hot, bitterly burning on its way down his throat, and made the post-good-sleep fuzzies retreat a bit. He felt mostly human today, with Jarvis waking him up at a normal hour, half the team out on various errands and Bruce and Clint to keep him company. Neither of them tried to tote him around like one of the celebrities’ pet chiwawas. Tony took another few sips, realized he was at the bottom of his cup, and wondered, “How is this my life?”
“Hey, could be worse,” Clint replied philosophically as Bruce took out three plates and started dividing up the his omelet masterpiece. “Thor or Steve could be here, and they’d carry you the two steps to the coffee pot for you to get a refill.”
“Or they’d just do it for you.” Bruce added.
And they would. Tony was pretty sure he hadn’t climbed stairs in three weeks, things that he needed tended to magically appear by his elbow once he mentioned that he needed them, and there was all that carrying around that Thor did. It had made him angry at the beginning, because it was bad enough he just proved to them again that Tony Stark was nothing without the armor - but three days in, he made the tactical mistake of confronting Steve about it.
It wouldn’t have been so bad if it was just Steve, but Bruce was there too. He got fed up with being treated like an invalid - no, worse than an invalid, because they were being so damn careful around him that he felt like some sort of delicate crystal statue instead . So he tried whining, wheedling, angry shouting and threats to get them to stop it, but that hadn’t worked. So Tony turned to logic.
“C’mon, guys,” he tried to reason. “This isn’t even my first rodeo, and I did fine all those other times-”
He had realized his error too late when Steve gave him a confused look and said, “Rodeo?”
“I know you know what a rodeo is,” Tony had replied testily.
Bruce had looked vaguely horrified as he murmured an explanation to Steve, probably about the frequencies of kidnappings for billionaire geniuses, and then Tony was presented with a double-whammy - Steve with his huge, tragic puppy eyes, and Bruce’s brown ones darkened with a distinctly green glint. It would’ve been bad enough being known as the one that made Captain America cry - it would’ve been worse if he made Bruce Hulk out while doing it.
So, there was nothing to do but suck it up.
But he thought that Bruce must’ve talked to Steve or something, because then the team started backing off a bit. The full-on mother-henning routines were still in place, but they stopped stepping on eggshells with grim expressions around him. Physically he was a train wreck and they treated him accordingly, but it was much easier to pretend everything was back to normal when they pretended with him.
Tony held out his cup. “Get me some more coffee, woman!” he barked at Clint, who snickered at him and gave him the finger. It felt strangely good to hobble to the pot and get his own coffee, even if he had managed to get up and get himself out of bed and into the kitchen already, since he’s listing today’s accomplishments anyway.
Bruce handed him a fork and the plate with his share of the omelet while he was up. “Eat your breakfast, Tony.”
“You and Steve, honestly. I should call you two Captain and Doctor Bossypants.”
“Or, ‘mom’.” Clint suggested. “Aw, c’mon, mom!” he protested when Bruce pulled back his plate.
Tony snickered into his cup. How is this his life, seriously?
**
Bruce settled Tony in the couch comfortably with the remote before going back for the bowl of popcorn. Clint had gotten a call - a small situation had developed in San Francisco and he and the rest of the team were en route to diffuse it. Something about bank robbers with a gun that might’ve been leftover from the alien invasion of New York - that made it part of Avengers’ jurisdiction, but once you’ve had a few alien invasions and close brushes with the end of the world, well armed bank robbers seem almost mundane.
That didn’t mean that he wasn’t worried, but when he heard the drone of the afternoon anchor from the living room, he still yelled from the kitchen, “Tony, they said no CNN! Hack the comms if you want, but leave the news channels alone!”
“You’re not my real dad, you can’t tell me what to do!” Tony hollered back and Bruce gave him a pointed glare when he came back, popcorn in hand. On the screen, the bleach-blonde anchor was just disappearing, replaced with an aerial shot of the Financial District. It wasn’t hard to pick out Steve’s distinctive uniform and Thor’s towering form keeping guard as the robbers were loaded into police cars. “Spoiler: it’s a happy ending, the Avengers save the day again. Don’t get your panties in a twist just cuz you had to babysit, Bruce.”
“I don’t even know where to start,” Bruce sighed as he sat down next to Tony, who was visibly sulking. “Actually, yes, I do. My panties are not in a twist because I’m not wearing panties.” He deadpanned. “It’s Tuesday.”
Tony blinked at him, momentarily derailed from his bout of self-pity. “And you wear panties on non-Tuesdays?”
“Only if I have clean pairs.” Bruce informed him. He kept up the bland expression as the corner of Tony’s mouth twitched helplessly. “I have to handwash them, you see,” he added, and Tony only lasted about five more seconds before he burst out laughing.
“Haha - ow, don’t make me laugh, dammit!” Tony curled his casted arm around his ribs, wincing a bit but still chuckling. “Okay, okay, fine. You’re going to have to tell me more about your underwear collection sometime, whoever said nerdy scientists are boring obviously never met you.”
Bruce elbowed him, carefully. “Just start the movie, Tony.” Tony snickered, but called for Jarvis to play the film.
The windows automatically darkened and the screen turned black, then lit into a starfield. As the music started and the words, “A long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away...” started scrolling up, he added quietly, “Despite being a mom, and wearing panties on non-Tuesdays, I’m not a babysitter, Tony.” The fact that Tony wasn’t looking at him, was in fact, staring intently at the opening sequence of Star Wars: A New Hope, was evidence that he was listening. “You’re an Avenger, you don’t need babysitting.”
Tony elbowed him back, but there was a smile in his voice when he hissed, “Shhhhhh, the movie’s starting.”
The screen went snowy for a second and Bruce frowned. The image stabilized and he felt Tony tense up beside him. “Wait, this isn’t the movie-”
“Jarvis!” Tony barked. “What the-”
On screen, there was a grainy, desaturated picture that looked like security footage. It was of a bare room, a cluster of people around someone else, someone with their arms bound behind him. Bruce dimly realized his breath was quickening, that Jarvis was saying something about a security breach, but he couldn’t look away.
There was a circle of white - light, he realized, light that would’ve been blue had the tape quality been better - on the man’s chest.
It was Tony.
Sound came on with a crackle, over Tony’s “What the hell-!?” and there was a muffled thud from the speakers, on-screen Tony curling up with a grunt of pain as one of the people kicked him in the stomach. His shirt looked white in front but black in the back when he curled up from the force of the blow, and Bruce remembered that oddly shaped bruise on top of all the other bruises on Tony’s torso, when they had him in medical, and the shirt looked black because it was blood -
“Bruce? Bruce, buddy, calm down!” His thoughts were racing a thousand miles a minute and it felt like his pulse was doing the same. There was a roar from deep inside his mind - someone hurt Tony, someone hurt him - but Tony was here, gripping his arms fearlessly, as if the other guy wasn’t about to make an appearance. “Bruce! Breathe!”
“Jarvis.” Bruce gritted out, his voice already like rocks rolling together. “You said, security breach?”
“Yes, Doctor Banner,” Jarvis responded, and if Bruce wasn’t on the verge of losing it, he would be impressed at the layers in that cool tone. Apprehension, anger, something else. Old fear, perhaps, if artificial intelligence can have fears. “Someone has commandeered the video feed, they have control of the viewscreen. It is uncertain if they have control of anything else, I am currently tracing the hack.”
On screen, one of the men asked some sort of question, and on-screen Tony wheezed something, and one of the goons half-hauled Tony up by one arm, twisting it hard. There was a wet pop - Bruce remembered that sound dimly, he had heard it before - before Tony screamed.
The thread snapped.
**
He thought that he was getting through, for a second - Bruce looked distinctly green but was still mostly Bruce, even though the buttons on his shirt were starting to pop. Tony yelled at him to breathe and tried to remember to do it himself. He remembered this - he remembered the moment that they had dislocated his shoulder, the pain had been so bad he almost passed out, and he had to pop it back into place himself later on, in the cell -
“Shit,” he swore. Keep it together, he chanted to himself. They have a security breach and Bruce was about to lose it. He cannot flip out now, even if he wanted to. “Bruce, calm down!”
Bruce curled in on himself for a second, shoulders hunched and then the shirt completely ripped down the back. Tony reeled back when the Hulk leapt to his feet with a roar, his head almost grazing the ceiling as the building shook and trembled around him.
“Fuck,” Tony said.
The screaming on screen abruptly cut off as the Hulk slammed a gargantuan fist through it, green face scrunched up in rage, and the speakers fizzed out a moment after, leaving only the sound of crumbling drywall and white noise, and the Hulk growling low in his throat.
The Hulk roared again, and slammed his fists against the ground a few times, and Tony prayed to the engineering gods that it was on the weight bearing beams - “Hey, big guy! Big guy!” The Hulk rounded on him, snarling, and Tony stared down the green eyes, wondering if Pepper had a point about him lacking any self-preservation instinct. But this was Bruce, this was the Hulk, and even if the Hulk wasn’t used to seeing him like this, without his armor, he was still Bruce in there. He wasn’t afraid of Bruce. “Buddy, I need you to calm down. Everything’s okay.”
The Hulk swept out one trunk-sized arm and Tony yelped when he was scooped up in one motion.
“Sir!” Jarvis said, alarmed, even as the Hulk growled, “Tony. Not safe.”
“Wha-” The Hulk turned himself around, Tony still cradled in one arm, and took a step to the left before lifting his fist and bringing it down. The floor buckled, a spiderweb of cracks radiating out from the center of the blow. “Shiiittttt!” Tony did not shriek as they dropped down to the next floor. “What the hell was that for?!”
The Hulk pulled Tony close to his chest and then proceeded to plow through three more walls. Tony would be flipping out except they were suddenly in the master suite of the 22nd floor and he was staring at the capsule shaped Hulk Containment unit.
“Buddy...?” Tony asked cautiously as the Hulk stared at it suspiciously, wondering if some part of Bruce was still in charge, aware enough to make for the closest thing that can safely contain his rage here. “Big guy, you want in?”
“In.” The Hulk rumbled. “Tony. Not safe.”
“Jarvis, are the security systems on the containment unit still functional?” Tony called, wiggling a bit. The Hulk did not take the hint to put him down.
“Sir, the containment unit is completely isolated from the building. All primary, secondary and backup systems are reporting normal operation.” Jarvis answered. “I would venture to say that this would be the most secure place in the building at the current moment.”
“Good enough.” He decided. “Open the unit. Big guy, let me down.”
The Hulk shifted his weight, looked at the heavy, triple enforced doors of the unit, back to Tony, before reluctantly setting Tony down.
“Sir, if I may,” Jarvis said as Tony hobbled over to punch in the codes by the door. “I was able to trace the hack signal.”
Right, security breach. He could almost be calm and objective about it right now, he had always been better at keeping a lid on it when he had something else to take care of first. Well, he had one TV, three walls and one floor’s worth of destruction to deal with, but hopefully the team was heading back and the Hulk seemed cooperative, and now this. He could have his nervous breakdown later, he was good at multitasking in times of crises. “Report, then.”
“Fortunately, the hack appeared to be entirely electronic. Currently there is no reason to believe there would be hostile physical forces brought into play by the perpetrators.” Tony hit ‘enter’ and there was a series of heavy clangs as the locks holding the thick doors together started disengaging. “Unfortunately, the signal led back to Statesville, Nevada.”
Tony frowned. The doors slid open and he turned to look at the Hulk. “Isn’t that...?”
“Yes, sir. After you discontinued the weapons development division of Stark Industries, all existing inventory and prototypes were sent to the Statesville facility for proper disposal.”
Pieces of the puzzle tumbled together in his brain, almost too fast for him to process. Steve, Pepper and Coulson thought they had the corner on the intelligence market, but he hadn’t been sitting idly during his forced recovery. The Hulk lumbered closer but Tony barely noticed. “Shit. Director Sterns. He was asking for an update on weapons disposal at the last meeting, Jarvis, I need you to-”
“Director Sterns’ accounts have recorded several large withdrawals and deposits in recent months,” Jarvis answered, reading his mind. “The deposits are from shell corporations of known weapons manufacturers. Might I bring up the fact that Director Sterns has high enough clearance to know about the Nevada campus?”
“And he was the one that wanted the security review last month for all facilities - “
“Including our current building. With the review results in expert hands, it would not be difficult to temporarily take control of the video systems. I suspect with a more detailed investigation, we would be able to trace the withdrawals as payment to your kidnappers.” Jarvis concluded. “Sir, I suggest we inform the rest of the team of this development.”
“Shit.” Tony swore, trying to remember what weapons were still in the process of being dismantled. There was a gentle nudge against his shoulder and he turned to see the Hulk, still hovering beside him, insofar as someone that’s ten feet tall and more than five times his mass could ‘hover’. “Big guy, you still here?”
Whatever the Hulk might have said was cut off when the high shriek of the fire alarm sounded, and Tony swore when the Hulk jumped, bellowing.
“Hulk, no-”
And with one sweep, the Hulk shoved Tony into the room and smashed the control panel.
The doors slammed shut and locked as the automatic emergency sequence engaged. Tony scrambled to his feet and pounded at the transparent doors- some part of him knew it was futile, the place was built to withstand Bruce’s alter-ego...he would be hard pressed to put a dent in the walls even if he had the suit on - but the Hulk was turning, smashing an outside wall.
“Tony. Safe.” Hulk growled over the blaring fire alarm, looking back, and then up. “Nevada?”
Tony hissed. “Shit, Jarvis, no!”
His AI ignored him. “Nevada, Doctor Banner. I have activated your built-in comm, directions can be provided en route.”
“Belay that, Jarvis! What the hell!?” But it was too late, the Hulk turned and took a flying leap out of the hole in the wall, disappearing from sight.
**
They were still wrapping up from the bank robbery when Steve’s comm beeped with an urgent incoming message. He frowned and looked up, signaling for Clint to hold position as he opened the line. “Rogers.” He said.
“Steve, get everyone and hop on a jet or something,” Tony said from the other end of the line. “We have a fucking situation.”
“What happened?" Steve asked even as he met Natasha’s eyes. She took one look at his face and nodded, turning on a heel and hurrying toward one of the police officers, presumably to tell them that they’re on their own. They had the quinjet on a helipad at the top of one skyscraper and it merely took a wave before Thor fell in step beside him, marching toward the elevators. He touched the earpiece and opened the line to everyone.
“The Hulk is on his way to Nevada,” Tony said bluntly. Steve drew in a sharp breath. “Jarvis figured out someone at Stark Industries is aiming to get himself some free WMDs from the discard pile and the big guy is all gung-ho about smashing. You’ve got to get back here and let me out, then we have to go do damage control.”
“Let you out?” Steve asked.
“Sir,” Jarvis interrupted smoothly. “If I may - the damage to the control module of the containment unit is extensive. The system will not be able to accept the Captain’s override codes even if he should be present to input them.”
“And you refuse to hack it for me,” Tony retorted, a rare note of anger in his voice. “I know you can, Jarvis, and what the hell were you thinking, telling the Hulk about Sterns and then encouraging him?!”
“Ladies,” Ironically, it was Natasha that interrupted. “We’re in the quinjet, please provide us a heading before you go back to bitching at each other.”
“Stark, are you in the Hulk containment unit?” Clint asked as he strapped himself in, his free hand dancing over the touchscreens as he readied the jet for takeoff.
“Dammit. Yes.” Tony growled. “How about Plan B? Thor can fly his way back here and smash this thing open for me, the rest of you can go reason with Bruce and we can hopefully meet you there.”
It was a little surreal, the way Jarvis cleared his throat politely. “Sir, Doctor Banner was concerned with the security breach and your safety, both before and after his transformation. The Hulk had placed you in the containment unit with the understanding that it was the safest location for you in your current state.” A pause, during which Steve could almost imagine Tony grinding his teeth together. “It would be difficult to calculate the timing for a proper rendezvous, and I cannot predict how Doctor Banner might react if he returns to find you gone.”
Clint added helpfully, “I can.”
Steve raised his voice so he could be heard over Tony’s next round of profanity. “We’ll go with Plan B for now, but Tony, stay put for the moment until we get a better handle on the situation. You shouldn’t be involved in the fighting, with your injuries.”
"Captain-" Natasha started even as Tony said, "No."
"Tony, you can't-"
"I meant, no, scrap plan B," Tony interrupted, "Not no, I'm not going to stay put. If the big guy won't see reason, you'll need Thor with you."
"That's surprisingly reasonable of you," Clint muttered, voicing Steve's thought.
A snort came over the line. "I heard that, Barton. My revenge on you will be swift and terrible, and you won't even see it coming."
"I quake in fear."
"You'd better. All right, you guys scram. I'll just...sit tight here, or something." Steve exchanged looks with Clint, Natasha and Thor, and was just opening his mouth to comment when Tony said, "What's with the doubtful silence?"
"I don't know, Stark," Clint drawled. "I don't think I've ever seen you sit tight, ever."
“Verily,” Thor agreed.
“I don’t even - Okay, you guys scram, I’ll sit here and try to talk some sense into Jarvis. How’s that?” a beep signaled that the coordinates were being loaded into the quinjet’s navigation systems. “Jarvis will ping you if anything changes. Go make sure Bruce only smashes the bad guys.” Before any of them could respond, the line disconnected.
**
“Okay, first things first,” Tony sat himself down. The walls inside the containment unit were completely smooth and white, no visible seams or ventilation openings. The place was about the size of one of his bathrooms at home, which meant it probably can serve comfortably as a studio apartment. “The big guy can move pretty fast, but it’ll still take him a bit of time to get to Nevada. The rest of the team should be able to get there only a little after him. Did you warn Pepper? And is Sterns actually in the building? ‘Cause if he’s not, I want everyone out before the Hulk can get to smashing. It might be a good thing if he doesn’t really smash the building, since, you know, I own the building.”
Jarvis was far too used to him to be thrown by his babbling. “Miss Potts has been notified.” Jarvis reported. “She has assured me that law enforcement will be dispatched immediately. Director Sterns is scheduled to be on-site at the facility this week, however he has scheduled a private meeting with an investor for today, according to his calendar.”
“A round of golf type of private meeting, or discuss shady illegal arms transactions in an abandoned warehouse type meeting?”
“I am unable to determine that at this time.”
“But will you be able to determine it in the next five minutes?”
Jarvis sounded faintly amused. “Ten seconds, sir.” A pause. “Director Sterns marked off the next five hours off his calendar as ‘meeting with client’. There is no location listed, however I am in the process of triangulating his position based on the GPS in his StarkPhone.”
“You’re picking up all sorts of bad habits.” Tony said, a little admiringly. “Don’t think I don’t know that you spilled about Sterns in front of the Hulk on purpose...and was that fire alarm your doing too?”
“...sir.” Jarvis said, which was admission enough. Tony sighed and stood up, pacing a few hobbling steps before he found a more comfortable corner.
“Jarvis, buddy,” Tony tapped his knee absently. “What aren’t you telling me? Everyone’s all freaked out because you’re cockblocking me left and right, but I know there’s a bazillion easier ways to take me off the field if you really wanted. This,” he gestured to the containment unit. “It’s not subtle. Not very you at all, really.”
There was a long silence. “My intention is not to take you off the field, sir,” Jarvis answered, and something in his ‘voice’ sounded hesitant. “I suspect it would displease you, sir, but my intent is the same as Doctor Banner’s.”
“What? To keep me safe from my own backstabbing lackies, a whole state away?”
“Sir. If the perpetrator of this security breach and your prior kidnapping is indeed Director Sterns or somehow related to him, then it stands to reason that as he would have access to information and resources far beyond a normal opponent. The very fact that he was able to hack the video feed today, specific to your location at the time, probably with the knowledge that Doctor Banner was with you and likely to react poorly, indicate a disturbing level of knowledge of your companions, your location and your activities.” Tony imagined that if Jarvis had a face, he would be staring at Tony steadily right now, cold and logical and maybe even a bit defiant. “The building’s security is compromised, Doctor Banner’s alter ego is excellent for offense, but not for defense, and the team was not available.”
“And I can’t defend myself,” Tony added dryly. “Given that the closest armor is in Malibu.”
“I feel I also must remind you of the fact that Miss Potts has threatened you with death, sir, should you attempt to use the suit with your injuries.”
“So you lock me up in here?”
“As I said, sir, the Hulk Containment Unit is completely isolated from the building’s systems. It has its own power source, oxygen supply, wired connections and control module. Should a hostile takeover of the building be attempted, this is by far, the most secure place to be.” Jarvis sighed. “And of course, I might have made it more likely for you to end up in here, sir, but I don’t harbor any illusions about you staying put.”
“Damn right. How’s the triangulation going?” Tony snarked back.
“I have located Director Sterns - he is in old downtown, satellite surveillance indicate that he’s entering an abandoned warehouse.”
“Called it.” Tony crowed. “You might want to direct our buddies over there instead of at my building. Come to think of it, letting the Hulk smash near armaments probably wasn’t a well thought out plan.”
“Indeed. All relevant parties have been notified, sir. Agent Romanov is updating the navigation of the quinjet. I will instruct Doctor Banner once he is closer to his destination."
"Do we have an ETA?" Tony asked.
"Estimated time of arrival in twenty-two minutes, I would expect the rest of the team would arrive before Doctor Banner, as they will encounter less obstacles via air.”
“Great. We give them half an hour to get there, the team gets an hour or so to talk the Hulk down from leveling the town, another forty-five minutes or so for them to get back...” Tony spread his hands. “Voila! Another unexpected but successful mission under our belt.”
“Might I suggest then, sir, that we begin the task of regaining the control module of this containment unit? Two hours should be more than sufficient to devise a workaround the hardware destruction.”
Tony rolled his eyes and held up his phone, which would’ve been nearly impossible to see from any of the cameras that Jarvis might have access to. “Fifteen minutes ahead of you, buddy.”
**
All in all, it was pretty anticlimactic - that was the case with most missions though, five minutes of pure terror and adrenaline interspersed with hours of boredom. At least this time, he had a neat technological problem to solve while he had to hurry up and wait.
“Sir,” Jarvis had reported maybe half an hour ago, “The mission has been concluded satisfactorily. Captain Rogers indicate that the team will be heading back shortly.”
“What’s the rundown? No one’s hurt, right?” Tony asked, only half-listening as he delicately wrangled the programming on the locking mechanisms. If the Hulk hadn’t smashed the controls, it would’ve taken maybe five minutes, but he had to route the commands through the wireless, hack the override codes, and trick the program into thinking the hardware was still there to keep it from going back into the endless loop of searching for input it had been stuck on before.
“No casualties requiring direct medical attention were reported, sir, however I’m afraid the property damage is rather extensive. A cache of decommissioned Stark weapons were found on the premises of the director’s meeting spot. The hostiles attempted to deter the Hulk with what they had on hand, I am pleased to note that it did not work well for them.”
Tony snorted. Though the ‘testing’ was involuntary, it was pretty obvious that nothing short of a nuclear blast would hurt the Hulk. Stark Industries might have been the world’s premier weapons development company, but he left the nukes to his dad. Nothing in the decommissioned stockpile could’ve hurt Bruce on its own, and he spent a few seconds vindictively imagining the looks on their faces when the Hulk shrugged off anti-tank/aircraft/personnel weaponry like he would an annoying fly. “You’d figure people would learn that shooting anything at the big guy just makes him even more angry.”
“Indeed, sir.”
**
"Here," Clint said, holding out a shapeless bundle of cloth to Bruce. "Found this in the lockers, it should tide you over until we get back."
It was a blue shirt and Bruce accepted the offering gratefully. The team had gotten in the habit of having spare sets of pants and glasses on hand for when the green rage monster inevitably changed back into a nerdy scientist, but shirts were still hit or miss. He had to roll up the sleeves a few times and it would probably serve well as a parachute, so he guessed that it probably belonged to Thor or Steve.
Around them, there was the low level hum of the quinjet’s engines, and the occasional snippet of conversation from the cockpit. Clint and Natasha were the primary pilots, and Tony had helped design the thing and other aircraft so he was no stranger to the controls, but Bruce had never flown a plane in his life and Steve had even more notably crashed one in the Arctic. He still deferred to Clint and Natasha on missions, but Steve jumped on any and all chances to practice flying properly. So right now, he was piloting with Natasha’s help, with Bruce and Clint in the back and Thor absent, probably well on his way to visit Doctor Foster in New Mexico.
“We’re going to have to debrief when we get back,” Clint said, sitting down beside Bruce and starting the deceptively simple looking process of folding his bow back into its more compact form. “You want to give us a bit more detail on why you went full bore on one of Stark’s minions?”
“Tony didn’t tell you?” Bruce sighed, not really surprised. His memory between seeing the video of Tony’s torture and coming aware in the middle of a crater in Nevada was a bit spotty, but he did remember the anger, the fear...There had been a moment, outside the containment unit, where he was almost more Bruce than the Hulk, but then instinct had taken over the moment a perceived threat presented itself. “...damn,” he rubbed his face. “Tony’s going to be pissed.”
“He’s gonna be pissed anyway,” Clint pointed out. “He’s always pissy whenever he’s grounded for a mission.”
Bruce laughed a little, tiredly. “True. Well, I think he’d be more pissed.” He didn’t know about that video, if there were more out there...but if there were, it would be up to Tony to decide how much to let the others see. They deserve the truth though, if not the details. “...There was a security breach while you guys were gone, just a hack...but Jarvis traced the source and snooped in the guy’s bank account. Turned out Sterns was taking payment from other weapons development companies while still on Tony’s payroll, and there were equally suspicious outflows of money...enough to hire some thugs to kidnap a billionaire genius philanthropist, maybe.”
Clint stopped toying with his bow. “...are you shitting me?”
“I think I’m in enough shit as it is,” Bruce replied wryly. “So the other guy didn’t take kindly to that thought, shoved Tony into a safe corner, and took off to beat the threat into submission.” He sighed. “And of course Tony’s totally going to take any attempt at ensuring his safety as a horrible insult to his dignity.”
“...you were the one that locked him in the Hulk containment unit.” Clint sounded like he wasn’t sure whether to be horrified, amused, or impressed. “To keep him safe. Oh, the rage is going to be epic.”
“Guys,” Natasha called from the cockpit. “We’ll be arriving in about five minutes.”
“Okay!” Clint called back and Bruce only spared a second to wonder how much she and Steve had heard. It only took a second because Steve had the enhanced senses of the serum and Natasha was a super spy, so the conclusion was foregone. “Damn, I just realized,” Clint muttered as they shuffled around, latching and bolting down what needed to be secured and shoving extra items in the storage compartments. “I could’ve totally shot that guy in a more painful spot.”
“Clint...” Steve said reproachfully from the front.
“Lala, you didn’t hear a peep out of me, fearless leader!”
“You guys might want to strap in - “ A huge boom cut Natasha off mid-sentence and the quinjet shuddered and dipped. Bruce managed to grab onto a seat handle but Clint wasn’t so lucky, going head over heels until he was brought up short at the entryway to the cockpit. The jet shook, but after a few seconds, stabilized.
“What the fuck!?” Clint was yelling even as Bruce was scrambling to his feet, lurching toward the cockpit. He got to his feet just as Bruce got to where he was, and they gaped, shoulder to shoulder, at the sight just outside the windshield.
Smoke rose from the Stark Industries' San Jose Corporate building. It wafted slightly and Bruce could see a portion of the destroyed wall. He could hear the pounding of blood in his ears and his pulse racing.
Tony was supposed to be safe. He was supposed to be safe.
"Open the hatch." He managed to force out.
"Bruce -" Steve yelled, alarmed, as he spun around and staggered toward the back.
"Open it!" he shouted, could already feel the tightness of the shirt across his shoulders. If he transformed in here -
There was a tortured screech as the hatch started lowering, and Bruce thought he heard Clint shouting, "We'll be right behind you!" before the rage took over again.
**
Tony was a fan of pure science, but a dedicated worshipper of engineering because there was only so much theorizing he could do before he had to get his hands on the hardware and build something. There wasn’t any doubt that it was the ideas and theories that drove the inventions, that made them better, but at some point there had to be some doing.
So, the problem: control module on the Hulk containment unit was non-functional. Attempts to bypass and fool the system into thinking that it was receiving valid input only semi-successful. The locks refuse to open.
"Jarvis...gimme the specs on the emergency containment plan again."
"Sir, I would not suggest - "
"Jarvis." Tony cut him off firmly.
Jarvis actually sighed and Tony grinned and gave himself a point in the scoreboard of Tony vs Jarvis. "Sir, please allow me to say that I believe this is an exceedingly bad idea."
"I'll pay for damages, don't worry. And it is technically my building."
"That was rather not my point, sir."
"Blah blah blah blah. I know SHIELD wanted this thing to be mobile, there's gotta be some - aha!"
"Sir, that is very sensitive and potentially unstable material -"
"Ooh, we can work with that. Jarvis, calculate the blast radius - let's see, from sector 3b, say, 10% power?"
"Approximate blast radius calculated to be 25 feet, sir."
"Oookay. Um, 0.05% power?"
"If you would, sir, move to the far corner of the containment unit, there is an 82.5% chance of you remaining outside the blast radius."
“Sector 3b only, okay?” Tony reiterated as he got up and hobbled carefully to the other end of the unit. The unit was completely bare, there wasn't even any furniture to take cover behind, but at such a low level of power, he was pretty sure he would escape relatively unscathed. He covered his ears. "Detonate on my mark. Three. Two. One. Mark."
The world exploded.
It took a bit, but finally the ringing in his ears stopped. Tony coughed and waved the hand not currently in a cast in front of his face, trying to clear away some of the dust. The impact had mostly been absorbed by the supporting walls of the containment unit, but he still felt a bit rattled.
"Jarvis?"
"Here, sir."
He pushed himself to his feet and used the still standing portions of the wall as support. "Did it work?"
"Sir, I would not suggest approaching the sector at this time."
"Yeah, yeah...ow, that's hot." Tony grinned when he saw a huge crack along the side of the containment unit. "Hinges and seams all the way, baby," he muttered as he limped, wiggled, and generally squeezed himself out of the containment unit in the least graceful way possible. It was probably a good thing that Jarvis had the security systems now and no one would ever know Tony Stark had to shimmy anywhere. "Ah, I am so glad to see daylight again...wait, daylight?"
Jarvis sounded like he wanted to sigh again. "It would appear that the western wall has been damaged in the explosion. Fortunately the integrity of the building remains intact.”
“Hey, relax, I did say I was going to pay for it, right? Unless we can lump it together with the damage done by the Hulk earlier...Insurance covers an act of the Hulk, right?”
The building shook as if in response to his question, a very distinct roar filling the air. A second later, the huge green form of the Hulk leapt through the hole in the wall, rage-filled green eyes sweeping through the mostly destroyed room and the containment unit.
Tony found those eyes zoning in on him like a laser and held up his hands to show that he was completely harmless, really. It was even true, when he wasn’t wearing his armor. “Big guy! Um, hi...welcome back?”
The Hulk growled and stomped over, and Tony found the world spinning as one huge hand landed on his shoulder and spun him round and...round? “Tony,” the Hulk rumbled. “Explosion. Hurt?”
The big guy was checking for injuries, Tony realized. Disbelievingly, if the expression on his face was anything to go by. “Oh, buddy, I’m okay, really.” He came back face to face with the green guy again, and did his best to pat the gigantic wrist with his free hand. “Everything in one piece, nothing more broken than how you left it. And yes, me, explosions. It happens, everyone should be used to it by now.”
His grin faltered a little as the Hulk reeled him in with tree-trunk arms. For a second, he thought he might’ve actually pissed the big guy off by being flippant - but no, that was the flat of two palms, the size of dinner plates, against his spine. He could feel them through the bandages, the warmth bleeding through. The other guy’s hands were so big that they spanned Tony’s entire back.
The Hulk was hugging him.
“How is this my life?” Tony wondered again, this time with his face pressed securely against the Hulk’s chest. There was a rumble under his ear, and he could dimly hear the quinjet’s engines outside, over it, the rest of the team was probably in the process of landing. He should let them know there’re no hostiles, because they were a bunch of trigger-happy crazy people, and he was pretty sure that Bruce wasn’t the only one that overreacted, his was just the most obvious (and green).
“Tony. Not hurt.”
“Big guy...buddy, I’m ok.” his arms couldn’t even go all the way around the Hulk, between the cast and the fact that the Hulk was like, ten feet tall. “I’m fine. I’m kinda pissed at you, because ditching me? Douche move.” Hey, look! his fingertips are actually touching around the Hulk’s back...in fact, he could feel the other guy shrinking, slowly turning back into Bruce. “But I guess yelling at you right now would be pretty mean of me,” he sighed as the green receded entirely, leaving only a shirtless Bruce going limp against him. “Two transformations in one day’s probably not that good for you, huh?”
And no, his ankle’s had enough of the excitement - it tolerated being hauled around like a sack, getting minorly exploded, and all the hobbling around he did on it - it didn’t want to support both his weight and Bruce’s anymore. Tony managed to get them into a controlled sag onto the floor, and wiggled them into a semi-comfortable position while he waited for the rest of the team. He could already hear them stomping down, Steve shouting orders and Clint skidding to a stop next to them, asking questions rapid fire, Natasha coolly making arrangements with Jarvis for ambulances and contractors. “No, no one is carrying me anywhere,” he raised his voice to make sure he was heard and batted off Steve’s hands. “Bruce’s the one that’s passed out here, you take him.”
Lo and behold, Steve actually listened, taking Bruce and jerking a chin toward Clint. Tony gave the hand that the archer offered him a suspicious look before accepting it. Clint pulled Tony’s arm over his shoulders and helped him hobble around the rubble, which is marginally more dignified than being carried like a sack of potatoes or bridal style.
“Congratulations,” Clint said as they made their way to the elevator and Tony raised an eyebrow at him. “Well, you had a shitty day, but your kidnapper’s been taken care of, and now Steve’s got a new target for the mother-henning.”
Tony rolled his eyes. Well, with a team like his, he really wasn’t holding out much hope for the tie-in between Sterns and his brief captivity to remain a secret in the first place. But he had a point about Steve. “Thank god,” he muttered. “I was going to strangle him in a few more days.”
Natasha came up to them and waved the three-legged creature that they made toward the guest living room - the one that the Hulk hadn’t mostly destroyed in his fit of rage. “We have SHIELD medical personnel incoming, ETA ten minutes. Sit tight and let them poke and prod when they arrive, or else.”
“Or else what?” Tony snarked.
“Or else I’ll tase you.” Natasha responded serenely. “I’ve already obtained Coulson’s permission.”
“Damn, you drive a hard bargain,” Tony said, appalled and admiring. Clint deposited him in one of the couches, moving to perch himself on one of the arms as he was occasionally wont to do, especially after missions.
“Better do as she says, Stark,” he chuckled. “The taser’s not just set to stun.”
“Right.” He sat back and resigned himself to being poked and prodded soon. Steve was already putting a blanket over Bruce’s sleeping form and even though these few floors are pretty much trashed, Fury was going to blow a vein when he sees the broken Hulk Containment unit, and he ached from the roots of his hair to his big toe, he had most of his team here and knew the rest of them were safe.
“Tasha,” Clint said, out of the blue. Over him, Jarvis announced that the medical team had arrived and were in the elevator. “When we debrief, I’m going to tell them that my hand slipped. Back me up, yeah?”
Natasha rolled her eyes and said, “Your hands never slip.” Tony made a I-demand-to-know! noise and she shrugged. “You’re going to have to explain to Coulson how you shot Sterns in the ass.”
Tony gaped. “You what?”
“My hand really did slip! Sort of! The fact that the Hulk kept chasing him even though one of his minions shot him with a rocket launcher didn’t have anything to do with it!”
“Right.” Natasha drawled even as Tony cracked up.
Seriously. How was this his life?
**End**