воздая

vozdaya:

Natasha’s gaze softened, and she rolled onto her back to stare up at him. Her hair fell off the pillow and rest against his knee, creating a bloody halo around her crown. Her brows her furrowed too, as if she had never once considered that he would say that. She almost looked confused.  “Bruce.” Her hand reached up to cup his cheek. “I’m not frightened.” What she meant to say was, thank you.

“Just because you’re not frightened doesn’t mean it’s not the bigger problem.” Bruce gave the slightest smile, happy at least that Natasha could handle what was coming, or at least the belief she could. That’s all he needed.

vozdaya:

Her eyes closed, knowing that she wouldn’t fall asleep in such a precarious position. It was difficult falling asleep in front of others. Solitude was easier to work with, always.  “I have bigger problems? Last time I checked, the state didn’t want me back. They blew that, already, too many times. Turns out, I’m troublesome.” Maybe that was why they were creating a new batch of obedient spies. Ones who didn’t fall in love or weep. Ones that couldn’t turn their backs on a crying child. “Does this… bother you? Being here.” She realized she had stolen him away into a world of her own pain, her own history, never asking if he wanted to come along.

“Yes, you have bigger problems. You know what honestly frightens me? It’s not just groups that turn people into weapons because they can. It’s groups that can erase memories and make new ones. The ones that can rip away an entire life and leave nearly nothing behind. Groups that do that, they frighten me to my core, for more than one reason. You’re about to walk into a revamped version of a group able to do that. If they’re not shut down, we’re all screwed in the end.”

He thought the question over briefly. “That’s an interesting question though. Does it bother me being in a discarded facility like this? Not a fan of it but I’ll live. Does it bother me being here to help you? Not in the least. I’ll go wherever you need me to go in order to help you, it doesn’t bother me to do so, likely never will. You needed the help, you needed a friend. I’m good at least one of those things.”

vozdaya:

“There could be more to it than that. It could be a trap. Made enemies of any Russians recently?”

“No more than usual.” Bruce shrugged, “Need I say, oh no not a trap? I certainly have never walked into one of those before and escaped. You have bigger problems to deal with, I happen to specialize in people who want to screw with Hulk. I also specialize in screwing them over.”

vozdaya:

She turned to take a pillow, propping it against his lap. She then lowered herself against her bed and lay her head on his lap. “This place is dead. We’re off the grid completely. But we’ll need to go back out if we want to get anything done. Whatever they want with you, they’ll be out there still.”

Bruce didn’t seem to mind at all, there was no real reaction from him mainly because whatever made her comfortable he was happy with. “I’m certain they’re still out there. But, whatever they want I’ll take care of it. After all, only an idiot sends a normal gun to a Hulk fight.”

vozdaya:

“Trust me, that’s reassuring.” And nothing that surprised her. It seemed the Russians really had outwitted themselves. They had been so focused on making soldiers, spies, and killers, that they overlooked a fountain of youth.  She sat beside him in silence. “I have a hundred questions, but I want to see this through. How long was I out?”

Bruce shrugged a bit, “Didn’t bring a way to track the time and I tend to lose track when I work.” It was how he could work through the night without even noticing it. “Honestly probably a couple of hours. Can’t say for sure. I can probably answer most of the questions you have on it, but I will probably cause you to fall asleep if I do. Since once I get into something I don’t tend to stop.”

vozdaya:

His voice traveled eight decades of memories as her eyes adjusted to the light, to the sight and sound around her. And like flipping a switch, she was violently transported back to the present. “Bruce,” she said flatly, before a sigh. She flopped back against the mattress, which gave a rough creek.

“Is something wrong?”

“No more than usual,” He gave a slight shrug. “In the best possibly theories I can muster, you should have your serum block relatively soon.” Unfortunately without proper tests he has no idea if it will work, just his gut. “What about you? I didn’t mean to wake you up.” At the same time on some level it might have been better that he had. “Still good?”

There were times when Bruce confused himself. If asked if he would rather work in silence or with noise, the answer was always neither. There were sides of each that he didn’t enjoy. He didn’t like how each move he made in the lab created a hallow echo. Yet, despite that, he loved to hear his own footsteps, hearing his own breath, his own steps, it meant he was himself, he wasn’t falling into something else. An unfortunate side that could happen at any moment and had happened before. Then of course came the thoughts he had when he was alone. Dark, threatening, every bit of guilt he felt in his life being whispered to him by his own mind. Every now and then he closed his eyes, pinched the bridge of his nose and told himself to focus. Maybe he should have found time to sleep on the way here, but nightmares plus traveling in close quarters? Not a good idea. He’d find time to sleep eventually, when things were settled.

The fact that his problems had followed him here, was not something he liked the thought of. Guns being pointed at him he was used to. Guns being pointed at him so that he was a threat to those he cared about, that was another problem all together. It meant more problems around the corner. “One problem at a time,” Still his own voice, he was in control. He started to open his case, careful not to open the way anyone normally would. If force was applied or someone tried to crack the obvious lock, the result would have been a controlled explosion, everything inside the case would have been destroyed. He was a paranoid man after all. He followed the steps to open the case he knew by heart, entering the code, undoing the handle, removing the single  hidden piece from inside that would set everything off, then opening the case.

He ignored what the case was made for, a specially modified revolver and the special bullets he had created for it. He instead retrieved the blood from below it all. Kept in another case he had crafted last minute, it did the same as the main case, if forced open or someone tried to quickly open it without knowing what to do, the blood would be destroyed. He wasn’t going to take chances. With remarkably steady hands given everything he had gone though he opened the case and retrieved the blood.

Spending the next while he examined the blood, filled in the blanks in his head. He had his notebook out but what he wrote made no sense to anyone, looking like little more than scribbles and random words. He found what he believed to be the answers, certainly close enough for him to begin breaking everything down. He double checked his work, he only had one shot at this after all.

Holding his breath he hooked the machines up together into his own contraption, letting it hum to life. It would take a while but if he was right it would work. His final touch was to make a way to use the creation. Luckily with his abilities with explosives and ultimately pulling out the trap from the cases he had, he could make a few bombs. he just needed to wait for the chemical to be ready. With nothing else to do, he started his walk to find Natasha, following the instructions she had mentioned.

Each step he took felt like an intrusion to him. Like he was more than trespassing into some abandoned facility. Still, he kept going. He stopped in the doorway, uncertain what to say or do once he had found her.

What did it say about the Black Widow, that she would willing walk into a place of nightmares and sleep at its doorstep? Pain is a lesson, Ivan told her. He wrapped a bandage around her hand. It makes us strong. Tell me you understand.  -- I understand, Papa. -- I’m not your Papa here. I need you to be someone other than the General’s daughter. Do you understand? -- I understand, Papa. 

-- I want to fight. -- I will not allow you! You are my only daughter! -- People are dying. I have to fight.-- People will always die, daughter. 

-- This is the best way for you to serve your country. Do you understand? You will marry the war hero, and make a lovely bride. Tell me you understand. -- I understand, Father. -- You make me proud, dearest Natalia. 

-- Do you remember your name, Winter Soldier? -- Some times. Do you, Widow? -- Some times.  -- Let’s run away, me and you! -- You mean, you and I. -- How does a Russian broad like you have better English than me? You’re making me look bad! -- Not hard to do, darling. 

-- I want to fight. I want to do what’s right. I want to be... an Avenger! 

-- Natalia.

-- Natasha.

-- Black Widow

-- Black Widow! 

Natasha woke with a start, a hundred voices quieting as she pulled herself to conscious. But the line between reality was blurry, and for a moment, she faltered. Bruce stood in the doorway, light obscuring his face, making his figured a shadow.