Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

They’ve just settled in, put all the equipment in the right places and finally brewed a pot of fresh coffee and tea to sip on as they rest for a moment. The space they’ve rented out and transformed into a lab looks clean and orderly, everything perfectly spaced, a mix of new equipment fitting in with the old furniture that had come with the place.

Bruce leans back in his chair, distractedly running a hand through his hair, and notices Jane fiddling with an old radio. It crackles and spurts, static vibrating out of it as she plays with the dial, eyebrows furrowed together until suddenly it screeches and dies with an alarmed huff. Jane startles backwards, surprise on her face, and glares around at the rest of them to make sure none of them laugh, and then slowly pokes at the rectangular little box again.

It beeps. Then a voice bursts out of nowhere, loud and painful, bidding the city they’re in goodbye. Then it dies again.

“No,” Jane mutters under her breath, “Work, you stupid thing. I can’t do my science in complete silence. Please.”

“I’m sure we can buy another in town,” Bruce says consolingly, amused despite himself at the fervent way she keeps fiddling with it. “Besides, we need to go out for a grocery run anyway.”

“Can you go?” She requests, turning beseeching eyes on him. “You know what we all like, and you never get lost.”

“Yeah,” says Jane’s intern quickly. “You should totally go.”

So Bruce does, tucking on his lab coat around him almost protectively and walking out into the hot desert weather of the city. He has his wallet in his pocket, directions to the nearest store from the map they’d been given at the City Council by a small, silent child, and cravings for noodles that will last him through to dinner, when hopefully they'll go out to a restaurant or something.

He grabs some more coffee, a packet of tea for himself, and is just getting said noodles when he starts noticing something strange. Specifically,  he starts noticing everybody else in the store staring at him with blatant curiosity. Bruce shrugs it off, explaining it away  as a small town never receiving guests, and ducks his head as he carries on shopping. He can’t find any corn – which he knows one of the interns really likes – even though the sign in front of the empty basket claims they should be there and cost a hefty dollar and a half. It also says the corn is imaginary, which doesn't really make sense.

Oh well, Bruce thinks to himself with a shrug, it most likely just means they’ve been finished.

He makes his way to the cashier, dropping everything on the conveyor belt and watching the blank-eyed teen beep them through. When the money gets rung up, he holds out the exact amount, but to his confusion, the teen... doesn’t take it. At all.

She barely even acknowledges him.

A bit disturbed, Bruce drops the money next to the till anyway, packs everything into two plastic bags, and hurries away, back to the lab.

“Sorry,” he greets them all as he walks in, gently putting the bags on the floor. “They were out of corn.”

Jane waves off the groan of disappointment from the intern with the taste for corn, fingers twitching towards the bags, and impatiently says, “Never mind that, you should come check out these readings. Because they just can’t be right.”

And so Bruce does.

 “Ladies, gentlemen, and other things with different genders, it's come to my attention that we have some new members among us. Apparently, they live near Big Rico’s Pizza, and one was spotted shopping at the Night Vale Green Market Co-Op store. I know this doesn’t happen a lot, guys, but come on, chances of them actually sticking around are nil. Trust me, I should know, I’ve run the numbers. Everybody that comes in from the outside in groups either end up as ritual sacrifices, or disappear into the void. Groups and Night Vale do not go together. But if it had just been one of them, then sure, we could all sit around trading gossip and painting our fingernails. But it’s not, so there. Also, why the hell are they even here to begin with?

In other news, the leaders of our small town want me to tell you guys that we have a new dog park! It’s a dog park, but apparently, no dogs are allowed. I repeat, no dogs are allowed. Neither are people. Neither are we. We are not allowed in the dog park. None of us are allowed in the dog park. The dog park should not be entered or even looked at by any of us, so steer clear of the dog park, people. Steer clear.

Also, angels are apparently a thing. Wait- No-, uh... Right, angels are not a thing. They do not exist, and should not be acknowledged, because they do not exist. Sorry guys. I’ll come back to that in a bit.

But for now, how about a word from our sponsors...”

“Oh hey,” says Jane, “We’re on the news.”

Bruce blinks, pulling himself out of the working daze he’d been in, looking up from the gutted seismograph in his hands. He notices that it’s only him and Jane, both of their interns probably in the other room catching a nap, but doesn’t notice a television or anything of the sort that explains what Jane could be talking about.

She is wearing earphones though, the buds nestled comfortably into her ears, connected to her phone lying casually on the desk. She pulls the end out, and suddenly a voice rolls out of the phone’s speakers, talking about helicopters of all things, and Bruce just stares at Jane in confusion.

“It’s the community radio,” she explains, tucking a lock of hair behind an ear. “Talks about new stuff happening around town. Apparently we’re the new stuff happening around town.”

“That’s not surprising,” Bruce frowns at her. “Considering that this isn’t a huge city or anything. People were staring at me at the store too.”

Jane shakes the seismograph in her own hand, a fruitless endeavour to get it to actually work, and nods in agreement. “You’re right. The guy speaking about us didn’t sound all that impressed though, so that’s no good. Maybe we should call a town meeting or something to introduce ourselves, get on the good graces of the people. And just what the hell is wrong with this thing?”

“That’s... actually a good idea.”

“What?” Jane looks up, turns to face him, and blinks as if coming out of a daze. “What were we talking about again? Oh! Right, yeah, the radio thing. We could totally do it. I’ll get the other guys to call and stuff. I wanna get this thing working again.”

Bruce nods, turning his own focus to the equipment in front of him, and closes it back up with a few well-placed screws. Turning it on, he frowns as the seismograph stutters and hesitates before showing a reading that would mean they – and the entire city – are currently in the middle of a huge earthquake.

Sighing, Bruce turns it off, and rips it open again.

“Guys! Guys! You would not believe what happened. So you know those new people? They called for a town meeting, and obviously I went there and stuff, because why the hell wouldn’t I, right? And apparently they’re scientists! All of them! Scientists! I remember when I was a scientist, back before when I was the new guy ‘round here, but wow, does it bring back memories. So anyway, there was the head girl, Jenny or something, but mostly there was this guy who was also the head guy standing next to her called Bruce. Bruce! Carla down at the Green Market tells me he was the one that was shopping, and that when she came out of her shift covered in blood and viscera and the shredded mess of mozzarella cheese, there was some money next to her cash register. Isn’t that nice, guys? That this Bruce would give her some money? And he’s a scientist!

Okay, okay, so I know you’re all probably rolling your eyes, because wow, Tony, way to fixate on one thing and one thing only. But I know you guys, I know all of you guys, and you guys live for this. The leader lady was blonde, or brunette, or, uh, maybe a red head I’m not sure, but Bruce was dark haired with messy ruffles and curls, wore glasses that he constantly kept pushing up, and said he and his science buddies were here because this city was an anomaly!

And then Old Woman Josie gave him a cupcake she baked and he smiled.

And guys, let’s keep this between ourselves yeah, but at that smile, I felt things. Of, you know, feelings.

It was totally weird.

So anyway, speaking of Old Woman Josie, she says she has a light bulb she wants to sell. It was touched by an angel, a black angel to be precise, which is a nice distinction when you think about it. Because why would we be more interested in a light bulb touched by a white angel when we could have one touched by a black angel? Way to be racist there, Josie. But we all know she doesn’t really mean any harm by it. So there’s that. If you want that light bulb, go talk to her.

By the way, angels don’t exist. They are not a thing. Absolutely not. Nope. Nada. No heavenly beings here, thank you very much.”

Jane was giggling again.

Bruce sighs heavily and looks at the scene in front of him, ignoring the continued giggling growing more choked as Jane tries to hold it back. Behind them, equally giggling, are both Jane and Bruce’s interns, and the only similarity between all three of them are the earphones snug in their ears connected to their cell phones.

Bruce has a theory, a hypothesis, of what exactly could be causing them to giggle. But he doesn’t know why.

“We should-” Jane chokes out. “We should ch-check that house, right?”

They probably should, especially considering how all their readings are telling them an alarming tale of how the house doesn’t actually exist, but considering his whole team seems more interested in snickering than experimenting, it seems a better (and safer) idea to just not.

“Alright, that’s enough.” Bruce says instead, turning around to face them. “One of you, give me your phone. Now.”

Immediately, all three hold their phones out to him. Bruce picks Jane’s, taking her earphones and slotting them into his own ears.

It doesn’t take long for the words to register, for the light tone oozing charm and wit to make sense, for Bruce to realise what exactly the person behind the radio show is saying. He feels his face heat up, dawning realization changing his expression to horror, and Jane turns away to avoid laughing in his face about it, because she has self preservation instincts. The other two are even less suicidal, trying to hide their amusement by covering their faces completely or just walking away, but the damage’s already been done.

Bruce stares down at the phone in his hand, and in an embarrassingly high voice croaks, “We’re buying a radio.”

“...And now they’re all standing out at one of those new developments of Desert Creek, trying to figure out just why exactly that house doesn’t exist. Listeners, I can’t see them from where my window is, but thanks to all of you who are sending in recordings and live security footage, I can completely see Bruce and his amazing hair! Sure, there’s the whole thing with the seismic activity that says we should all be currently in the middle of a huge earthquake, but he’s new here, so cut him some slack, people, sheesh.

To be brutally honest though, guys, I’m not exactly sure what the scientists are trying to achieve here. A house that looks like a house but doesn’t technically exist? Earthquakes that should be quaking the earth but are instead completely absent? That’s just normal. Now what I want to know is what the hell I have to do around here to get some decent coffee. Intern Brad used to make some pretty great coffee, but then he never came back from that thing with the Glow Cloud. Oh, right, he never actually did come back, crap. Uh, to the family of intern Brad, sorry. He used to make great coffee.

... Traffic time!”

Bruce starts listening to the community radio, following along with everything that’s happening around town almost religiously. It turns out to be incredibly helpful, if only because he knows when not to go outside lest he be assaulted by the dead animal carcasses the Glow Cloud emits, but it also keeps him up to date on all the things the host – Tony – says about him.

And wow, does Tony say a lot. About him, that is.

It’s three parts creepy and embarrassing, hearing the way the host’s voice turns sultry and dirty whenever he’s describing Bruce, to hear the perfect way in which he translates messages from the City Council and the Sheriff’s Secret Police with the exact amount of intimidation and horror to properly get the message across, and then turns catty and amusing (to Bruce, anyway) when his interns do something to piss him off.

The radio now sits on his desk, next to his current project of the day, and he’s given up on keeping the volume low so only he can hear it because then the others would just listen in on their phones.

Jane, unsurprisingly, finds it absolutely hilarious, even if she’s kind enough to agree it’s kind of creepy too.

“But he’s a radio host!” She argues anyway, jotting down whatever reading she’s getting from her equipment. Maybe something about the sun again – Jane’s particularly pissed off at the timing in which the sun seems to decide to rise or fall. “So he’s used to just talking about anything and everything, I guess. It’s not as creepy when you take that into account.”

She has a point, Bruce concedes, listening with half an ear as Tony recounts something about a random voice in his station booth, talking to him but at times simply screeching. “I’d prefer it if he didn’t speak about me over the air, though.”

“Oh?” Jane grins. “So you wouldn’t mind it if he spoke about you to your face, maybe? Or just spoke to you to your face?”

“That’s not what I–”

“Bruce,” she interrupts him giddily. “I never understood why my old intern Darcy loved trying to set me up with people, but wow is this fun. You absolutely need to go talk to him, ask him out maybe. He obviously won’t say no.”

Bruce feels horror at the mere idea of it. “No. Absolutely not.”

Jane just grins though, looking at the radio as Tony launches into something highly resembling dirty talk, only to then claim it to be the ad of the local sandwich store. She laughs at Bruce’s red face, even though she herself has a flush on her cheeks from the dirty, dirty, words that had spilled out of the radio in Tony’s dirty, dirty, voice.

Either way, it’s not until three weeks later that Bruce meets Tony, and Tony actually puts himself in a position in which to be met.

And it’s all thanks to Thor.