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“LISTEN!” Iron Man roars back, right into Hulk’s anguished face. “That is a good guy,” he said, pointing at a father, cowering to cover his young son from falling concrete debris as Hawkeye ushered him to safety. “And this little piece of hydra smash is a BAD GUY.”
Hulk looked at the broken doll of a hydra agent he still had loosely grasped in his hand. He held him up, and he flumped around like his joints were all broken.
Iron Man’s face plate popped up, no longer hiding his weary grin. “You got it, big man. Bad Guy all the way.”
Hulk grunted, then casually tossed the broken soldier over his shoulder towards a busted Hummer. But the giant green shoulders slumped and he lumbered off towards the tree line. Iron Man fired up the repulsors to follow him, but Cap’s voice on the com pulled him back
“Iron Man, there’s a building two blocks east that looks like it wants to come down. It’s listing towards a building that hasn’t been evaced yet.”
“Fuck!” Tony said, careful to keep it off the comm. Then he got back on and said, “On my way, but someone’s gotta track down Hulk. He’s headed the other way and he’s looking a little…Brucified.”
“We’ll take care of him,” Cap promised.
****
The building was going to come down, but how it came down was another matter. JARVIS found the load-bearing supports, and Tony blasted them so the building would come more or less straight down instead of falling like a domino into the surrounding structures.
But it took longer than he expected, and by the time he and Hawkeye made sure everyone was safely away from the pile of rebar, glass, and concrete, JARVIS couldn’t find Hulk on any visual scans.
Tony sighed. “Who’s got Banner? And please tell me he’s wearing pants.”
“I have not seen our green friend since the battle ended,” Thor was first to answer.
“I’ve been with you,” Hawkeye said with a raised eyebrow.
“Cap? Widow?”
“Widow’s not on coms. I hope Banner’s with her.” Cap finally answered.
Tony’s roar of anger was drowned out by the repulsors as he blasted off. Fuck, he said, keeping it in his head this time. This was his job. He was supposed to be the one who was there when Hulk turned back into Bruce. It wasn’t even an emotional matter, though he knew that Bruce returned to baseline a lot faster with a teammate near him, and Tony kind of did hope that Bruce liked him best. No, it was a matter of security. The first few moments of lucidity were an absolute train wreck for Bruce. He didn’t know if he was fighting or fleeing or fucking, or where he was, or even what his immediate needs were. If he needed water, or food, or if he was bleeding, or needed to find shelter because he was still in danger.
And that was Tony’s job. He was supposed to be the one Bruce turned to see first, like an imprinted duckling, and then know without anyone having to say anything. He would see Tony, and know there was a friend nearby, and see him in his Iron Man armor, which meant that he was protected. And Tony would take him to the Quinjet where there were food and water and blankets.
And, it was Tony’s job to watch his back when he was too vulnerable to do much more than scramble to safety, and to keep the law enforcement officer’s guns in their holsters.
Tony flew in a wide spiral around the unfamiliar city. He had no idea where Hulk would go, even if he had decided to stay within city limits, so he flew like a carrier pigeon who had lost the flock, spiraling inward with every sensor wide open.
“Got them,” Hawkeye’s sure voice washed the anxiety out of Tony’s body so quickly that he felt light-headed.
A few seconds later, he was setting down next to Hawkeye, Thor and Cap, on the perimeter of a wooded park. But Widow and Hulk were nowhere to be seen.
Tony popped his helmet open to give them a piece of his mind, but the look of glee on Clint’s face stopped him short.
“Ok, guys, full stealth mode, non-lethal target. We’re here to observe. Tony, lose the armor,” Hawkeye said.
Tony glanced at Cap, but he was busy fastening his shield to his back. Thor was also following orders with an amused look on his face, so Tony opened up the armor, stepped out, and left it in sentry mode.
Silently, Hawkeye signaled them to follow. He took them around a small hill and a misplaced bolder before Tony couldn’t stand it anymore.
“Where the fuck is Bruce?”
Hawkeye narrowed his eyes at him. “Just shut up and listen!”
This far away from the street, the howling sirens and general buzz of hurt, confused people was a low murmur. He could actually hear birds in the branches, signing to each other that the danger had passed. And, beneath all that, a low alto voice crooning softly.
“That is NOT—“ Tony started, but he was interrupted by Cap’s elbow in his un-armored ribs and a harshly whispered, “shut your pie hole and listen!”
Around another small hill, barely bigger than a person, Natasha sat on the ground with her back resting against the grassy earth. The sun was setting, and the hill cast a shadow over the two of them so it was hard to see exactly what he was looking at, but Bruce was curled up on Nat’s lap, his hips turned in against her lap to try to hide his nakedness. Her thighs—thick and powerful enough to flip a soldier on his ass—were curled up and around his bare legs. But, despite the casual posture, her right finger curled around the trigger of her gun, even as her left hand combed the dirt and grass from Bruce’s hair.
And she was singing, low and soft against his ear. The words were in Russian, maybe, Tony wasn’t sure, but her voice was like the hazy, peaceful smoke rising from a warm fire. Tony shivered. In the armor, he hadn’t noticed how cold it was.
The team stood just behind a copse of trees. The sun was setting, the sky was still very blue and clear, and Natasha’s voice was as sweet as if she was singing to a child, but the moment felt solemn under the serenity. Tony glanced to his left and right. All the people present knew they were intruding on a moment, that they were being granted some special permission to witness this. Perhaps it would never happen again.
The sun sank a little deeper as Natasha’s lullabye ended. The last notes trailed off, but no one moved. Then, as if he knew they were waiting for him, Bruce blinked, coughed softly, and sat up—or started to until the pressure of Natasha’s thighs reminded him why he was sitting like that. He looked around wearily.
“Sun’s getting real low,” he said, and his voice was so gravely and rough that he still sounded like the Hulk.
“Yeah,” Natasha said, sounding surprised and almost—happy? “Sun’s getting real low big guy.”
Tony saw them smile at each other, genuinely content, for a mere microsecond before Thor threw his cape over the both of them.