Too Late

Thor was eating lunch with Jane at a small diner that was a local favorite. It had been a good day, thus far. They had gone for a walk in the morning, and then decided to get lunch in town before returning home from running errands. They were in the truck on their way back to Jane’s house when his phone rang. Only a few mortals had his number, and the screen told him it was the good Captain. Perhaps he would be allowed to rejoin the Avengers now? He was grateful for the vacation, but it rang too much like banishment to him, and left a bitter taste in his mouth.

“Captain, how goes it?” he greeted, raising the phone to eye level so the camera could see him. It was a struggle, still, not to crush the pathetic piece of machinery in his grip.

“Not well, Thor,” the Captain replied, making the demigod peer more closely at the screen. It was hard to see in the glare of the sun on the glass, but it almost looked like Rogers’ eyes were rimmed in red. Had he been crying?

“What has happened, friend? What sorrows you so?” The soldier didn’t reply right away, instead he ran a hand through his hair, breaking apart the blonde waves. Finally, he spoke.

“Thor, we need you to come in. Someone kidnapped Banner, and…”

“And we shall make him rue the day he set eyes upon our brother in arms. Tell me, good Captain, where I can find our friend and the people who hold him. And pray that the good doctor has not been harmed, for there shall be no mercy if he has,” Thor thundered, sitting up straighter in his seat. They were almost at the house, it seemed. Jane was looking at him with concern, worry for both him and Banner.

“That’s the thing, Thor…. We…..” The Captain’s voice broke, and even on the small screen Thor could see the tears shining in his eyes. The sight worried him greatly. On Asgard, it was common for men to cry in public. On Midgard, it was rare. It was even rarer to see such a display from Rogers, who he had only ever known to deal with his grief in private.

“We shall make it right, my friend. Tell me where to find him, and I will meet you there,” the thunderer promised, hoping it would reassure the obvious guilt plaguing the other man. But the Captain shook his head, holding up his other hand in a gesture for Thor to wait as he composed himself. After a deep, shuddering breath and a few long blinks, he tried again.

“We found him, already. But we were… We were too late, Thor. He… He’s gone, was gone well before we got to him. We know who's responsible, but we can’t deal with that right now. Right now… We need to have a ceremony, give him that, at least. We need you to come up to.. To say your goodbyes.”

Thor collapsed back into the seat, staring at the phone where it quivered in his hands. He felt the truck lurch to a stop, and then Jane’s hand was upon his own, steadying the screen and providing grounding comfort.

“I need to see him first,” Thor said finally, voice dry.

“SHIELD already took the corpse. It’d be bad if anyone got their hands on it. But… there are pictures, from the mission report. They aren’t nice, though. I can send them to you, if you want, but I don’t think they will help. It’s not pretty,” Steve offered, his tone soft.

“It matters not, I must see this with my own eyes. Send me the images, please, and the mission report, so I can read what has become of our dear friend.”

“Alright, I’ll send them now. We’re having the ceremony in a couple of days, once we decide where we want to hold it. I’ll have Stark..”

“Captain,” Thor interrupted, eyes hard.

“Yes?”

“Was this the cause of my requested absence?”

To his credit, the soldier didn’t fumble for words or excuses. He met Thor’s gaze levelly, even through the screen.

“Yes, I didn’t want to endanger relations between Earth and Asgard if you were seen attacking a military facility.”

Thor roared, such a menacing sound coming from a demigod with powers over the weather. The sky darkened ominously.

“You were a fool, Captain. I should have been made aware. There are those in Asgard who could have found him with naught but a moment to look. Heimdall alone could have located him….”

“I’m well aware of my own failures in this matter,” Rogers replied, holding up a hand to silence the demigod’s rant, “but placing blame will not bring Banner back, and the last thing he would want us to do is attack each other in our grief. I need to go, there are things we need to take care of on our end. Please don’t desecrate the doctor’s memory by doing anything rash. It’s up to us to uphold his integrity, now.”

With that, the soldier ended the call, leaving the screen blinking in Thor’s hands as the text messages containing the information came in. Taking a deep breath, the thunderer squeezed Jane’s hand before opening the messages. The report was vague, referring only to “invasive procedures” and telling the reader to see the pictures. The other information in the file listed Dr. Banner’s birthdate, his physical features, and the events of his upbringing, which Thor was already aware of.

The pictures, on the other hand, left nothing to the imagination. The doctor’s body was lined with scars, places where even the Hulk’s regenerative abilities had been put to the test. Heavy restraint marks encircled his limbs, and various bruises and burns decorated his frail body. The physicist had always been thin, but his corpse had been starved to grotesque proportions. Hipbones jutted out at an angle, and every rib was visible in his pale torso. Thor’s fist shook, and before he could comprehend what was happening, his phone was taken from his grip. He looked over to meet Jane’s worried gaze as she brought the phone up to her own line of sight. She took only a second to look at the photos before she clicked the screen away, flinging the phone down onto the seat to cup Thor’s cheek with her other hand. He clenched her fingers in his grip, careful not to harm her. His entire being shook with grief, shock, and anger. It would have been so easy, so simple to locate the doctor had someone simply informed him of the circumstances. Such a senseless, violent death for a gentle soul.

Jane drew him closer, pulling his head to her shoulder as his arms twined around her torso. The sobs broke through his anger, and he trembled under her touch. She held him for what seemed like hours, as he mourned the doctor with a level of emotion only fit for a warrior’s passing. Thor, despite his upbringing, was unaccustomed to loss.

In the end, they decided to have the ceremony on the roof of Stark tower. It was a place Bruce had often liked to visit, to dangle his feet over the edge of the tower and lean back, basking in the sunlight as he hummed a showtune. Usually, someone had to come hunt him down up there to get him to come to supper.

Now, the tower was empty. Tony had dismissed all of the staff, telling Jarvis to lock the door against anyone who hadn’t been invited to the funeral. There weren’t many people. There were the Avengers, out of uniform in favor of black clothing that reflected their current mood. Also, was a woman none of them had ever met, but had known about. Betty Ross came alone, wearing a black dress and flats, pale face and bright eyes stamped with shock and disbelief, even when she came face to face with the picture sitting beside the urn full of ashes. No one mentioned her father, and she didn’t bring him up.

Thor was there, having decided to follow Earth customs and dress in a black suit. Mjolnir rested at his side, as if he was hoping someone would attack, just to give him the excuse to take out his righteous anger on someone deserving. He spoke to no one, simply stared at the bleak sky with a heavy heart. Jane awaited him at their hotel, having claimed she didn’t think it proper to attend the hero’s wake with the other Avengers who had fought at his side.

Steve stood watch over the ashes, not leaving the side of the table, nor meeting anyone’s eyes. Clint and Natasha looked out over the city from the side of the roof, hands intertwined in a supportive gesture. Clint had already requested a leave of absence after the ceremony, to spend time with his family. Of all of them, Natasha seemed to be taking it the best, considering she had been the closest to Bruce. She mourned her lover’s passing like any other loss, with not even the tiniest crack in her stoic mask to show her true emotions. She had refused Steve’s offer of leave, saying she preferred to stay here where she was needed. It was certainly something the Captain could respect.

Tony threw himself into planning the ceremony, managing to keep it both extravagant and diluted, for the doctor’s sake. The rooftop had been outfitted with a lavender carpet for the occasion, and he had spared no expense in outfitting the scientist’s urn with vibranium tinted a lavender hue, decorated with silver swirls reminiscent of ancient Chinese art. An inscription was laser etched into the metal, reading:

Doctor Robert Bruce Banner
Beloved son, friend, and hero

Brilliant physicist, compassionate partner, and courageous brother-in-arms

December 18, 1969 - August 3, 2014

Hulk
Brother, hero, and friend
Unflinchingly loyal, brave, and loving

January 18, 2006- August 3, 2014

You were both loved beyond words, and will be missed beyond measure.

It was Tony who spoke first, unsurprisingly. His face was pale, skin on his cheeks red, but his eyes were dry when he faced the pathetically small crowd.

“We are here today to remember our brother, Bruce Banner, and his green side, the Hulk. Both of them fought beside and for us without hesitation, and without question.”

Tony took a minute to shuffle his notecards, eyeing the others as he did so. Betty watched him intently, sniffling slightly as she bit back her tears. The others simply stood and looked over Tony’s head, all except for Steve, whose eyes were glued to the picture of Bruce resting against the urn.

“Bruce was never a man of many words, at least not in the time we knew him. But that doesn’t mean he wasn’t a man of many thoughts. He once told me that a busy mind makes up for an empty life. In the same breath, he also told me that since meeting us, his life wasn’t quite so empty anymore. I don’t know if that meant he finally stopped overthinking. If you knew Bruce, you’d know that was impossible.”

The billionaire looked up again, a small smile cracked on his face. Natasha, Betty, and Steve returned it, if only slightly.

“But in the short amount of time we knew him, we got to see Bruce undergo a metamorphosis. When I first met him, he was shy, seemed to scared to even blink in someone’s direction in case he set them off. But he always had a smile, for everyone. He met my prodding and pranks with a soft laugh, and never blamed anyone for being afraid of him, which most people were. As we got to know both the man and the monster, it became rapidly apparent that both of them had been underestimated. Bruce and Hulk, whether they were two different people or just different sides of the same coin, did everything within their power to help those they cared about, and even those they didn’t. We had the privilege of watching Bruce grow as a scientist, and watching Hulk grow as a person, a person capable of teamwork, understanding, and compassion. And when he wasn’t big and green, Bruce was the gentlest soul I ever met. He could put Buddha to shame, really.”

Tony huffed a small laugh, but his eyes drifted to the photo of Bruce, shining dimly in the afternoon sun.

“Bruce was an enigma. Always carrying such a crippling anger, and yet never raising a hand to anyone if he could avoid it. Even to the very end, both he and the Hulk were heroes. And they both deserved so much better. He deserved so much better.”

The other Avengers nodded their assent, while Betty looked at them with new understanding before returning the nod. Tony walked calmly back into the crowd, leaving the spot before them open for someone else to take. Everyone was a bit surprised when Betty stepped forward immediately.

“I don’t know if you know who I am. But then again, you probably do. I’m Elizabeth Ross, known to friends as Betty. I….  I don’t have much to say. I let Bruce down, time and time again. We met when I was a student in graduate school. Had things gone differently, I might have married him. I know it’s what he wanted. But, then the accident happened, and I couldn’t keep up with a relationship with someone on the run, especially when the person chasing him was my father. Bruce’s love for me put him in danger, over and over. Never once did he complain, never once did he…”

The scientist’s voice broke, and she took a moment to swipe at the tears that broke free of their dam. It was easy to see why Bruce had loved her, once, Natasha thought. Her kindness was evident in the way she held herself, the way she avoided looking at the urn beside her.

“I finally ended it after Harlem. It was clear that with the Hulk in Bruce’s life, there was no room for me. Bruce thought he needed to find a cure, to keep me safe. But when I looked at the Hulk, I knew there would be no cure, because they were one and the same. To cure Hulk would be to take away Bruce’s deepest emotions, and I couldn’t let him do that. So, I left, and moved on, hoping he would do the same. From what I have heard, he did.”

Betty raised her gaze to meet Natasha’s levelly, eyes soft and expressive. The spy couldn’t help but feel that her walls were being chipped away, piece by piece, under the emotions in that stare. But in a moment, it was over, and Betty continued.

“I will never be able to thank any of you enough, for what you did for Bruce. And I’ll never be able to thank him enough, for what he did for me. My father… I won’t make excuses for my father. What he did was unforgivable. But Bruce never asked for excuses, or validation. He seemed to understand, without an ounce of blame, my father’s reasons in a way I never could. Perhaps he had internalized them too much. But in the end, it doesn’t matter. Bruce was Bruce, always. He never held my parentage against me, and never held my father’s disturbing passion against him. Bruce was… Bruce was a good man, a better person than most of us could ever hope to be. I hope, wherever he is, he is finally getting the peace he deserves. I….”

She left the unspoken words hanging in the air, quickly retreating back into the group as a sob wracked her body. Natasha laid a supportive hand on her shoulder before stepping forward to take the woman’s place, giving the crowd a soft smile before speaking.

“I’ll keep this short and sweet, like Bruce. He was more than just a friend to me. In our own way, we loved each other, even if neither of us thought ourselves capable of it. Our broken, jagged edges fit perfectly together, and though what we were never had a name, it gave us both something to hold onto in this fucked up world. Tony was right, Bruce deserved better. He deserved so much better than the guilt he carried. Once, he told me that the dead never left him. He remembered their faces, their names, bore the burden of their loss without complaint, and strived to do better for it. And despite the constant anger, despite the constant sorrow, with us, Bruce was happy. He loved us just as much as we loved…. As we love him. And that’s what he would want you to remember, to take away from this. That we loved a man who thought he was unloveable. That we made a difference. Despite his last few months, I know in my heart that Bruce died in peace, knowing he was loved, and knowing that even then, he was able to protect us. That’s all I have to say.”

“He deserved better,” Steve echoed quietly, causing everyone’s head to turn towards him expectantly. With a sigh, he went to stand beside Natasha. She didn’t disappear back into the crowd. Instead, she rested a hand gently on his shoulder, offering her silent support.

“I don’t have anything to say. I don’t deserve to be able to speak. It’s my fault Bruce is gone, and that is a burden I’ll take with me to my grave. He was a good man, and even though he never believed it, he deserved so much better than what life gave him. I can only hope that now, in death, he is finally getting it. Does anyone else want to speak?”

The Captain looked at the crowd pleadingly, desperately hoping to get out of the spotlight. Steve didn’t know what to do with guilt, but he felt like a poser standing in front of Bruce’s friends, despite being one of them. He was the reason they were all standing here, instead of Bruce.

“Aye,” Thor said, striding forward with heavy steps to take Steve’s place. He and Natasha slipped back into the group, going back to stand beside Clint, who barely noticed their presence.

“On Asgard, Bruce would have been sent off in a fire bright enough to see from the Heavens. But perhaps, this is more fitting. The good doctor was a quiet soul, wise beyond his years for a mortal. He knew truths about the world that I have yet to learn. I can only aspire to, one day, be half of the man he was. I had the honor of fighting him, once. He was an impressive foe, but an even better ally. May the light of the stars light your path to Valhalla, my brother, for you had a warrior’s heart. We can only hope that some day, we may fight at your side once more.”

Thor thumped his heart, over his shirt, and gave the crowd a tearful smile. He didn’t bother trying to wipe the evidence of his grief from his face, instead walking back into the crowd with his head held high, wet cheeks and all.

“Clint,” Tony called, startling the archer from his thoughts, “did you want to say anything?”

“Yeah,” Clint returned with a scowl, “Fuck this. All of this. Banner and Hulk deserved better than this, and they deserved better than us. What kind of friends are we, we abandoned him when he needed us the most, pretending to play politician and hero instead of marching straight to Ross’s house and demanding he release him to us. We never should have tried to play nice. Banner might not have been happy with us, but at least he would be here to be something with us. We let him down, all of us, and no pretty speech from me is going to change that fact. So fuck this, I’m leaving, call me when there is something to blow up.”

The man turned around violently, throwing his suit jacket onto the ground before slamming the rooftop door behind him. Beneath their feet, they could hear the hum of the elevator. No one dared go after him, not even Natasha. She knew him well enough by now. He was like this after someone told him about Coulson. Guilt did strange things to normal people. She was far too familiar with the feeling to understand it.

“He’ll be alright,” she reassured the group, despite the worrying thoughts in the back of her mind. Clint would go home to Laura, and his kids. He would hold his infant son, and set to work on the farmhouse. He knew how to cope, he wasn’t the one she needed to worry about.

“Natasha, would you…” Steve took a deep breath, trying to rein in his emotions before continuing, “would you like to do the honors?”

The spy turned around to find them all looking, not at her, but at the urn still perched on the table. They had all decided to scatter Bruce’s ashes over the city, although in each of their pockets was a small plastic bag filled partially with some of the ashes. None of them had been able to bear the thought of not having some part of the doctor to keep with them.

“Alright,” she murmured, stepping to the front of the group once more. Taking the lid gently off the urn, she set it to the side and scooped up a small portion of the gray ashes onto her palm, flattening it above her head as the heavy winds blew it from her grasp. This she did again and again, trying to fight the growing sense of finality the actions stirred. The others followed suit after a while, all taking a handful of ash and releasing it into the wind, watching it drift out of sight over the busy sidewalks of the city. Steve saw Betty kiss her fist before opening it to let the wind claim what was once hers.

Before long, the urn was as empty as they were, left standing on top of their home with no idea what to do now. The memories plagued them, and as the last of the ashes disappeared from their sight, they all fell into their own heavy silence.