Chapter 2
They rested after a couple hours hiking through the rocky terrain. Bruce had gathered all manner of roots and leaves and berries to snack on, but--“You’re sure this is all edible? As beautiful as your island is, I’d rather not die here.”
“It’s not my island. And stop being a baby.”
Tony pouted his lip, and batted his eye lashed. Bruce smiled at him. It was a warm smile, a real one. It looked good on him. Tony elbowed him, which only made his smile deepen.
The air was hot and humid. Sometimes if he stayed still enough, he could hear the crash of ocean waves on the other side of the sharp rocky cliff. Bugs buzzed his ear; he felt riper than the rotting fruit he stepped on hiking up here, but the only complaining he heard was from a large bird squawking somewhere overhead.
“This is nice, isn’t it?”
Bruce looked at him for a long moment. “Yeah, I guess it is,” he said.
Bruce offered Tony some berries, which he accepted with a small nod. They were nice, too. He gestured toward the small pile of leaves, seeds, and whatever else went uneaten. “Gonna take that back to your heap?”
“You found me out.” Bruce got up and threw the pile under some brush. “Come on,” he said for the second time that day. He extended an arm and pulled Tony up. Then they continued walking.
“Listen,” Tony said after a while. He supposed he was ready. “I’m not here to learn how to compost.”
“You’re never letting that go, are you?” It was a nice running joke between them now, but now Bruce’s smile seemed hollow.
“It’s… look. I’m pretty sure you’re being set up. I don’t—no actually I do know why. But it looks bad, Bruce.”
“Set up how?” He sounded calm, but in his face a storm raged on.
“Bruce. I… There’s another Hulk out there.” Tony said it all in a rush, as if that would lessen its impact. He winced, because, well, that was stupid.
“Sure,” Bruce said. He seemed remarkably unperturbed. “This was a couple years ago. I’m sure you remember. It was in all the papers.”
“Right,” Tony said, because of course he did. “Harlem. No. this is another ‘nother one.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yup, it was on the TV and everything. If you thought you were insulated out here, boy, do I have bad news.”
“Oh, if it was on TV,” Bruce said. Then, quietly he added, “You want to see what I’ve been up to?”
“Is that a trick question?”
*
Bruce began clearing brush and dried leaves near an outcropping of large rock. He wiped away damp mud and ran his fingers along the square edge of something just underneath the soil.
“I found this the first day here. Actually the Other Guy found it.”
Tony raised his eyebrows.
“I think… I think he has some innate sense of--” Bruce was turning a large metal wheel, like you’d find on an airlock in a submarine. “--Gamma detection, like he can smell it or something. Here we go,” Bruce said, as the hatch opened up.
Tony took a large step back. “Wait, there’s radiation in there?”
“No.”
“But you just said—"
“That’s the thing. There’s trace amounts, but nowhere near enough to cause any real harm.”
“Okay,” Tony said. “And you’re sure there aren’t any more of these hatches kicking around?” Tony said.
“I can’t say I know for sure. But I’ve only found this one.”
“But there could be.”
“Sure. I just haven’t been able to sniff out any.”
“Okay, but, if there’s, like, a button in there you have to push every two minutes, I am outta here. Not sorry.”
“I don’t actually know what that means, but… sure. Whatever you want. Anyway,” Bruce said, “I’m fairly sure that’s why I ended up here. I mean, I don’t think it’s a coincidence.”
They descended down into musty darkness, with Tony following behind. He couldn’t see anything, and hoped Bruce knew the way. “Come on,” Bruce said. He opened up another airlock. Inside was an abandoned lab, with equipment dating back to at least the seventies, as far as Tony could tell. Everything was covered in dust.
“This must have been abandoned a while ago,” Tony said.
“Well there’s this,” Bruce said. Another light flickered on. This lab seemed a little more modern, though thoroughly trashed.
“They either had one hell of a party, or we’re looking at a cover-up.”
“Maybe a bit of both,” Bruce said. Tony gave him a deeply skeptical look, and tried to imagine a teenaged Bruce Banner hurriedly cleaning the aftermath of an all-night kegger.
“Yeah, that happened,” Tony muttered. Bruce was giving him an odd look, so Tony said, “Well, come on Weird Science. Let’s see what we got.”
Tony started nosing around. He wasn’t sure what he was looking for. A lot of stuff was smashed up on the floor. He glanced up at Bruce for some kind of hint, but he just stood back in the corner with his hands together, bent over and small. Tony rolled his eyes at him and continued rummaging through whatever he came across.
Tony picked up a notebook, and behind him, Bruce shifted.
This was some kind of HYDRA base, according to the notes.
“I thought HYDRA was done. We got them all, I thought,” Tony said. “These guys were holdouts, like those soldiers in the Pacific Theater. No one told them the war was over.” It was a good a theory as any. Then he came across it. Tony wasn’t surprised, per se, but—He looked up at Bruce. “Ah ha,” he said, brandishing the notebook at Bruce. “See? What did I tell you.” Tony flipped the pages at Bruce, who, for some reason, was looking at the floor.
“Tony,” he said, sounding so broken that Tony let at least a dozen smart-ass comments die in his throat. “I hate that you’re involved in this. It’s my mess, I didn’t even--”
“See, and I hate that you do that. I came all this way, didn’t I?”
“There’s no evidence they actually—"
Tony tapped the notebook against his palm. His patience drained away. “What is this then, a relaxing day on the beach? Also, I must have imagined that big ugly guy on TV. Sorry to waste your time.”
“I’m just saying; we don’t actually know they’re connected.”
“Are you for real? We have a lead; now we go and expose these sons of bitches. And exonerate you while we're at it. That sounds like a win-win to me.”
“Go where? New York? No. I’m not leaving, Tony. I’m… I’m off the chessboard.”
“Fuck you, you’re not leaving. Remember how I told you that ship sailed? Well it did, big time. And here’s our proof. You can’t just stay here, Bruce.”
Tony started gathering books, and papers, and whatever else he could find. “You know what, do whatever you want.” Bruce could just stay here, Tony didn’t care.
He regretted flouncing out on Bruce as he struggled to climb the ladder that lead back to ground level. He slipped on one of rungs and lost his footing. All the papers he carried slipped out from under his arm and fluttered away to the floor. It was too dark to see where they landed, and he didn’t exactly relish the idea of climbing back down after them. Instead, he levered himself awkwardly against the wall and the airlock. Even in the cramped space, he was able to pry the door open.
“You dropped something,” Dr. Smartass said from somewhere behind him.
“Yes, thank you.”
It was too dark to see, but Tony heard papers shuffling, which must have been Bruce collecting them. Tony opened the hatch. He scrambled out, and managed to slip in mud. Outside was ink black, and spitting with rain. “Careful,” Tony said, and extended an arm to Bruce.
“Well, this is great. Back inside, then.” They could catch some Z’s and trek back to the beach come morning.
“Got your stuff?”
“…Yeah. Why.”
“You want to go back to the beach, right?”
“In the morning I do, sure.”
“I know a shortcut.”
“A short— seriously?” Tony’s stomach dropped out, because what Bruce was proposing was crazy.
“Well, we can wait if you want—"
“Nope, your way is fine.”
It all happened at once. Tony pressed the paperwork firmly under his shirt, as Bruce enveloped him with his arms. Then Hulk shot straight up high over the tree line and landed right next to (what was left of) their tent. Then he tossed Tony in the sand like so much garbage.
“That was completely terrifying,” Tony said. His heart was pounding, and he was shaking a little. “Don’t ever do it again.” Hulk looked like a kicked puppy, so Tony said, “Please. You know me better than that.” The grin Hulk offered was a little terrifying.
The tent was a tangled mess of metal poles and ripped tarpaulin. Moonlight sparkled on the ocean waves, but it wasn’t enough to see by. Repairs would have to wait until morning.
“Sleep,” Hulk said. The rain picked up, and Hulk curled up under some brush.
“Yeah,” Tony said, and rubbed his eyes with the back of his hand. Adrenaline crash was a bitch. He sat next to the big guy, who promptly shifted around and over Tony to shield him from the pelting rain. It was warm, and Tony was asleep before he knew it.
*
“Well, isn’t this cozy,” someone said. Tony shielded his eyes from the morning sun. “I didn’t wake you, did I?” Standing over him was none other than ol’ one-eye himself, Nick Fury.
“Well, if it isn’t Mr. Deus Ex Eyepatch himself,” Tony said. He tried to sit up, but Bruce’s arm was dead weight across his chest. Tony elbowed him. “Come on, Sparky. Up and at ‘em. The boss is here.”
“The boss?” Bruce made a hilariously horrified face. “Oh. Hi.”
They disentangled themselves, and Tony tried to pretend it wasn’t completely awkward. He’d say Fury looked deeply inconvenienced by the whole thing, but how could anyone tell? Tony imagined a young Nick Fury’s mother saying to him, “Don’t make that face, it’ll freeze that way.” And Fury’s actually did.
“There’s no getting away from the long arm of shady government agencies, is there,” Tony said.
“Just get sorted out,” he said, and then walked away.
They followed. He could see Fury’s Quinjet about a half mile down the beach.
Come to think of it: “Whatever happened to your Quinjet, anyway? I thought I’d find wreckage, at least,” Tony said.
“Sank,” Bruce said with a shrug.
“What, did you have to swim?”
“That’s my best guess.”
“Your best— oh. Woke up on the beach cold and wet with no idea how you got there, huh,” Tony said. “And it wasn’t even after an amazingly awesome party. Bummer.”
As they approached the Quinjet, Tony saw Natasha Romanoff on the starboard wing, sitting cross-legged. She looked bored. “Heard you boys needed a ride home,” she said when they approached.
“You heard that, huh,” Tony said at the exact same moment she said, “Hi, Bruce.”
He wasn’t really interested in the whole interpersonal mess the two of them had going, so he turned the corner and ducked into the Quinjet’s cargo hold.
“Oh, look at you,” Tony said once he saw the Mark 46. It sat crumpled in a seat, looking forlorn. He jostled it a bit. Then Tony rifled through the overhead compartments looking for an energy bar or an MRE. Anything to eat that wasn’t twigs. He found a bottle of water. Fury ducked in just as Tony took a sip.
“Wheels up in five,” he said.
“Sure,” Tony said, capping the bottle. “What are you even doing here, Nick. It’s kinda—"
Fury cut him off with one hell of a stink-eye. The eyepatch made that markedly more effective, Tony suspected. “You thought I didn’t know about your little vacation.” Truth was Fury hadn’t factored into his thought process even a little bit.
“There’s been more noise since you’ve been out here sunning your belly, and I could use a couple geniuses to put their heads together. Guess what. You’re it.”
Bruce and Romanoff drifted in as Fury was speaking. She patted Bruce on the shoulder, and headed for the pilot’s seat.
“Doctor,” Fury said. “I was informing Stark here why we’ve come all this way to collect you two eggheads.”
“Hey,” Tony said, drawing it out like a five year old.
“I resemble that remark,” Bruce muttered, snorting a little. Tony smiled at him, but Bruce sobered instantly when Fury directed that stink-eye squarely at him.
Tony wanted to sing-song, "Ooh, you’re in trouble,” but decided he didn’t want to get in trouble, either.
“This concerns you the most, Doctor.”
Bruce glanced at Tony cautiously, but Tony shrugged. Then Fury continued.
“I assume Stark told you about the attacks by our new gamma-powered pal?”
“Attacks? Plural? Tony told me—"
“There have three more since Stark left New York.”
“Damn,” Tony said.
“And you want us to track it down,” Bruce said. He didn’t sound very enthused about the idea. “Just so you know-- I am still a fugitive.”
“Of course I know that,” Fury said, a little incredulous. “A Hulk attack on international soil is, frankly, a tricky situation. Politically speaking.” Bruce visibly cringed. “Fortunately, I know all the tricks.”
Bruce took a long look out the still open cargo bay door, his whole form vibrating with indecision. “No one’s telling you what to do.” Fury said. “The offer stands however you decide.”
Uncertain, Bruce glanced again at Tony, so Tony put a hand on Bruce’s shoulder. “Come on,” he said. “It’ll be fun. Like old times.”
“That’s what I’m worried about,” Bruce muttered, but he sat down and belted in. With that Fury turned and headed for the cockpit.