#marvelfail

At the end of the hall, he opened the last door on the right to a large bedroom with exposed stone walls that had been roughly plastered over on two sides and left rustic. The windows on the outer back wall were huge and included French doors that opened on a balcony. As she looked out, it was easy to see the fall gardens were still green, and further away the river flowed between stony banks. 

Bruce set her bag down on a chair and joined her at the windows. “The glass is the same tech as in the Tower. All we have to do is tell Friday to set it on opaque or just leave it on ‘privacy’ mode.”

Nat brightened up at the familiar name. “You have Friday here?” He hadn’t audibly used the Interface yet that she’d heard him.

“Indeed, you do, Ms. Romanoff,” said the familiar lilting feminine voice of the Interface over an intercom. Friday had been one of Natasha’s favorite parts of living in the tower, aside from Bruce of course. Besides Pepper, Friday was the only other “female” with whom she’d been able to interact while living there, especially late at night, and she’d made a few tweaks to Tony’s programming. This place was quickly feeling more like home to her.

As Nat surveyed the room, she noted the bed was much larger than a normal King and the headboard was of hard maple with clean Craftsman-style lines. The bedding and sheets were shades of pale blue and cream with several pillows stacked a bit haphazardly like he’d thrown them back on the bed after he’d made it that morning. The other furniture and some low paneling on the two finished walls were matching warm tones of maple. Bruce grabbed a loose t-shirt off the far side of the bed and tossed it across the room and into a clothes hamper next to the bathroom door. “Sorry, didn’t exactly expect you,” he apologized and put the pillows in slightly better order. 

“Big bed,” she said, thinking he looked a little nervous.

“Tony made the frame. It’s all custom. I’d have just put the mattress on a riser, but he insisted it would have looked weird and messed with the aesthetic. Plus, risers are a little hard to move, I guess. We were looking for applications for a new carbon-based material, so I think that had something to do with it, too.”

“Hey, who could turn down a carbon-based bedframe?” Natasha said with a smile and a shrug as she ran her hand over the quilted spread on top.

Bruce opened a few drawers in the largest dresser and moved some things to the other side of the mule chest, which left her with plenty of room for her things.

“What were those?” she asked about the clothing he’d moved.

“A few of my old-me clothes. I’ve been meaning to donate them or throw them out.” He was clearly a little uncomfortable for some reason.

“Don’t. I’ll take care of them. I may want to steal a small enough shirt that I won’t get lost in it.”

“Okay,” he said with a raised eyebrow, not wanting to remind her with such a visible piece of evidence just how much he’d changed.

She pulled out a blue checked dress shirt she remembered him wearing from before and suddenly teared up. It hit her how long it had been and how so much had changed while she hadn’t.

“What’s the matter, Nat?” She turned and grabbed him around the waist, pressing her face into his chest, as he hugged her, stroking her hair and back. 

“It’s okay. It’s going to be okay, Love. I am the same man I was then just . . .”

“No, you’re not. You’re not broken and hurting the way you were then. Do you really need me anymore? You’ve moved on to something better inside while I’m even more of a mess.”

“Oh, Nat. You’re no more of a mess than I am. Yes, I do need you, and I want you to share the happiness I’ve found. I’m sorry I can’t go back and bring you along or include you in the process now. I wish I could. To tell the truth, that part wasn’t much fun—it sucked a lot of the time, but I thought about you every day. When it got really bad, and I was stuck or we’d reached an internal impasse, both of us thought of you and how determined you always are. More often than not, we were able to find a way to work things through. You’re my hero.” Bruce sat down on the bed to see her better. “I understand you’re probably grieving and feeling kind of confused . . . disoriented. That’s normal, considering all the crap that’s happened to us.”

She wiped her eyes. “There’s a lot of that going around.”

He grabbed a box of oversized tissues for her from the nightstand. “Please don’t grieve for me. I’m here. All of me is here. Maybe a little more banged up, but I hope I’m the wiser for it.” Natasha sat down beside him with his old shirt in her hands, and he rubbed her back and let her get a few of her tears out. “It’s not like I ever competed with anyone for looks or charisma, but I promise you, this me does not leave or run away like a wounded animal, not anymore. I’m not afraid of myself either.” She looked up at him, knowing how his fears had warped and restricted his hopes for a stable life for so long. “I love you, Nat, and I’m not going to let you push me away. I’ll give you all the space you need, but I’m here for keeps.”

“I won’t push you away. If things had worked out, I would have been there with you every step along this journey. Five freaking years, Bruce! I’ve lost what should have been ours. I’m just so damn mad!” She was shaking with grief and anger. “And you’re nothing less than perfect in my eyes, so don’t even go there. You’re exactly what I want, Banner. I’m the one who loves you. Me! Right here! Me!”

He’d waited so long to hear that. “The journey with me starts here together then. Detours are over. Now, please either put that damn shirt on or just take everything off. If you’re agreeable and up for it, I want to be near you. I want to make love to you.”

Natasha smiled and dried off the last of her tears. She stood up and took off her leather jacket and let it fall to the rug before she crossed her arms over her head a little slower than necessary and pulled the black camisole off and dropped it, too.