Finding Banner
Peter
I was almost ready to turn home from patrol, suit already packed up in my backpack, when I stumbled across the man huddled in the alley, mugger standing over him, drawing back for another punch. Even though I wasn’t suited up, my reflexes kicked in and caught the descending blow, twisting and flipping the attacker around. One agile kick sent the assailant stumbling backwards, where he turned and fled. I let him go. I didn’t have his web shooters out, and I was more concerned about the state of the victim.
Dark curls barely showed above the tattered button-up. His arms were wrapped around his body, shaking, and it seemed like he was unaware of the city around. I had helped a fair amount of homeless people in the neighborhood, but something about this situation seemed different.
“Excuse me, mister,” I asked gently. When there was no response, I laid a gentle hand on the man’s shoulder. The man shuddered at the touch but looked up, eyes glassy but just barely aware of another presence. His face was heavily bruised with layers of purple, green, and yellow. “Are you hurt? Do you need help?”
The man shook his head, still with that distant and hollow look in his eyes. “No, you shouldn’t be out here. It’s not safe.”
“Do you know where you are?”
“Norway?” he frowned. No, that wasn’t right… There was a sudden hitch in breath. “No, I—I don’t know.”
“Norway is that last place you remember? Right here, this place you’re in, it’s Queens. In the US of A.”
“I don’t know,” the man repeated again. He hugged the battered fabric tighter around his body.
“Do you know your name? Is there anyone I can contact for you?” I was growing more and more concerned.
The man stared out into space for a moment, unseeing. I had almost given up on hearing a response before he spoke again. “M-Bruce. My name is Bruce.”
I let out a breath of relief I hadn’t realized I’d been holding. “Okay, okay, that’s good. That’s a starting point. Are you hurt? Do you need a hospital?”
“No!” The answer was much more sudden and vehement than I had expected. “No, please, I can’t. They’ll find me.”
“Who? Nobody finds out if you go to the hospital, there’s privacy laws and stuff.”
Bruce shook his head. “You wouldn’t understand, kid. I’m a monster. A mutant. I can’t.”
I was startled. “Actually,” I said slowly, searching for the right words, “you’d be surprised. I’m enhanced... I've got some pretty freaky issues of my own, so please believe me when I say that stuff doesn’t weird me out.”
Bruce squinted at me, though his eyes were still somewhat unfocused.
“Tell you what,” I offered, a spontaneous and perhaps risky thought coming to mind. “My aunt isn’t home tonight; why don’t you come have some dinner and get cleaned up and we’ll see if we can figure out something for you.” I helped the ragged man to his feet.
“Are you sure?” Bruce asked quietly, still incredibly physically withdrawn.
“Of course. C’mon.”
Within moments of scarfing down the mac’n’cheese I had whipped up, Bruce had passed out on the couch, still holding the bag of frozen peas against his swelling eye. The man looked incredibly small and vulnerable as his chest rose and fell with the occasional hitch of restless dreaming. Aunt May wouldn’t approve, I knew, but I couldn’t help but feel a kinship with the frightened man from the alley. Draping a blanket over the makeshift bed, I left Bruce a note, and went to bed.
When I woke up, Bruce was sitting up on the couch, hugging himself subconsciously and gazing at one of my textbooks, left open on the coffee table. “The second equation isn’t right,” he said, almost to himself.
Intrigued, I scooted over next to him. “Where?” I asked genuinely. A few minutes of halting tutelage later, Bruce shook himself.
“Sorry kid. I should get going. I really appreciate the meal and a place to sleep last night.”
“No need to rush out,” I said quickly, still worried about the guy and needing time to figure out what to do. “I’ve got some extra clothes you can have if you wanna get cleaned up.”
Bruce considered the offer for a moment before conceding. “Thank you. Where—where are we, exactly?”
“Queens. New York.” I handed him a neat stack of clothing, noting the barely hidden, visceral flinch at the words New York. “So…you said something last night about having a mutation. Is that like a superhero type thing? Do you need anything to help with that? I know for me I’ve got a really high metabolism so I have to eat for like three people…” I realized I was rambling. “Sorry.”
Bruce was looking out into space again with those dark, haunted eyes. “Not a superhero type thing. Experiment gone wrong. Everyone would be better off without mine.” He finally looked at me. “Thanks for the thought. But I can survive on very little. The monster takes care of that for me.”
For a moment, I stood there awkwardly, not sure what to say to that. “Do you want a shower before you go? Maybe a water bottle and some food to take with you?”
“Sure. Sure, yeah, that would be great.” He glanced at the folded pile in his hands. “I don’t want to take your clothes, though—“
“Well…” I shrugged uncomfortably. “Nobody’s using them, not since Uncle Ben… he’s not around anymore, and they’re still too big on me.”
Bruce nodded, and for a moment I felt like I saw a deep wave of understanding in the man’s face. “Thank you.” He padded down the hall to the shower and I slumped down on the couch, flicking on the TV to obscure the conversation from any nosy neighbors, and pulling out my cellphone.
“Hey, Mr. Stark?” I was glad that he'd finally let me start calling him directly after the whole Coney Island fiasco.
“What is it, kid? Isn’t it early for a kid your age to be up and about on the weekends?”
“Sorry, Mr. Stark,” I flushed. “It’s just that something came up while patrolling, and I met this guy who seems super lost, and I think he’s got powers, you know? He’s mentioned a mutation a couple of times, didn’t want to go to anywhere public because of that, but I thought maybe you’d know somebody who could help him out…”
“Sure, I’ve got contacts. Where is this guy now?”
I was quiet for a moment on the other end. “Well, that’s the part…he’s at my apartment.” I let the words out in a rush.
“Kid, you really shouldn’t just bring strangers home. What’d you tell your aunt?”
“She won’t be home until Monday. Please Mr. Stark, he seemed so alone and lost. I couldn’t just leave him out there.”
“Of course not. Next time though, maybe call me or Happy first, and let us take care of it, ya know? Jeeze, we’ve been over this—you don’t have to solve all of the world’s problems by yourself.”
“I know, Mr. Stark, I’m sorry—” I jumped at the sound of shattering glass. Bruce was standing at the end of the hall, staring at the TV screen, eyes lost and unfocused again. I tried to think what had been on, but it had switched to commercials seconds after Bruce’s reaction. “Are you okay?”
“Everything okay there, kiddo?”
“Yeah, just a glass. ” Having crossed the room quickly, shutting off the TV on the way as I talked, I approached Bruce carefully. “Hey, are you okay?” Switching back to the phone, “Umm, I think he might be having a panic attack.” I reached out and gently touched the man’s shoulder, but Bruce flinched back violently, shaking.
“I’m sorry,” he mumbled. “I’m sorry.”
“No, it’s okay! It’s fine. Just try to breathe. You’re here with me, Peter, in my apartment. You’re safe.”
As I continued the litany of soothing words, Tony spoke in my ear, “Hey, you know what, there’s not much going on here at the minute. What d’you say I come over right now. Be careful and don’t make any stupid choices kid. If he’s enhanced like you suspect, he might react poorly while in panic mode. Just… be safe.” The line went silent.
When Tony arrived at the apartment, I had managed to get Bruce over to the couch and was picking out glass shards and wrapping the man’s hands in gauze. At the knock, I set the tweezers down and sprang for the door. “Be right back!” The man had calmed down considerably. Aside from a few more sheepishly murmured apologies, he hadn’t spoken since the attack.
Checking the peephole and sliding the bolt, I let Tony into the room. “Sorry for the mess,” I said awkwardly, unconsciously mirroring Bruce’s mumbled attempts from moments before.
But Tony had stopped cold in the doorway, looking like he had seen a ghost. “Bruce? How on God’s green earth…” he fumbled with words for a second before blurting out, “what the hell?”
“Tony?” Bruce’s eyes had gone wide, and still somewhat afraid, as if he were steeling himself for something. “Tony—good gracious there’s a kid here, watch your mouth.”
Tony cut him off, with something akin to anger in his face. “Where have you been? Two years, Banner, two freaking years you cut all contact with the team, we don’t know if you’re dead or alive, and then when you come home with Thor you pull the same freaking stunt and disappear! Only to show up here? In Queens?”
Bruce ducked his head and didn’t say anything, but I could tell by his body posture that he was incredibly uncomfortable, retreating within himself as far away as he could. The pieces were slowly assembling in my head… Banner…Bruce… Thor…
“You’re Dr. Banner?!?” I blurted out, unable to contain myself. “THE Dr. Banner? I—I’ve read some of your work, it’s incredible! You’re like my hero! How—”
Both Bruce and Tony stared at me as if just remembering I was there. In hindsight, it wasn’t the greatest timing for an excited outburst.
“Sorry,” I mumbled.
“Right, then,” Tony was the first to stir himself. “Underoos, meet Dr. Bruce Banner, scientist turned recluse and sometimes jolly green giant with a propensity for letting his team think he’s lost or dead for years at a time; Bruce, meet my intern, Peter Parker. Now kid, if you’d step out for a moment I need to have some strong words with my prodigal colleague here.”
“I’m sorry, Tony, I didn’t know I’d go green for that long, or what was going to happen with Sokovia and Steve—” Bruce seemed like he was pleading, almost like he was still scared, but Tony cut him off with an angry gesture at the name of his former friend.
At the accompanying flinch of fear, I hesitated, worried that Tony's anger might cause another panic attack. “Mr. Stark, I—”
Tony pivoted abruptly but stopped as if finally seeing the trembling man before him. His demeanor suddenly softened. “Bruce, what’s happened to you these past couple years, man? You seem…” Broken? Scared? Defeated? Stark let the words trail away, unsaid. “You could have come home. After Sokovia, you didn’t have to leave. We would have helped you. When you landed in Norway, you could have called, I’d have been there in a heartbeat.”
Bruce folded his arms around himself again, looking away. “Come home to where, Tony? You know I can’t be around people. I’m a threat. And when we got back to Norway—I saw the TV, the accords, all of it. What do you think those people would do to me if I signed? Lock me up? Examine me? Try to kill me, only to have the other guy spit the bullet back in their faces? I know damn well how that would work out for everyone involved.” In contrast to earlier, he seemed stronger, more resolved.
“And you think I’d let them do that?” The hint of anger had returned, but it seemed directed elsewhere now. “You don’t always have to solve everything by running away, you big, self-sacrificial idiot!” His voice cracked.
Bruce looked down at his hands, wringing together despite the gauzed-over wounds. “I’m sorry,” he whispered again.
Realizing perhaps the scientist had had enough, Tony rounded on me. “And you,” he continued, “What were you thinking??? Why didn’t you call me, right away, wherever you found this guy? You brought a potential enhanced that you didn’t know to your apartment?” He gestured broadly at the room. “How do I end up working with some of the stupidest geniuses in the cosmos? Would it be so hard to have just a little bit of a sense of self-preservation?” I didn’t know how to respond, so I didn’t say anything. Tony sighed, and finally let his arms drop. “Happy’s got the car outside. You two, pack up whatever it is you need. I’m going to call Thor. Or try to. Why he can’t figure out a basic flip-phone after working with actual magical items is beyond me.”
Bruce
All three of us climbed into the back of Tony’s car, settling into the facing sets of seats. I chose the backward facing seat alone, and the others seemed to sense I wasn’t ready for too much proximity yet. The first ten minutes of the trip passed in total silence.
Finally, Tony spoke. “Hey, so I know you’re not keen on talking right now, big guy, but where have you been since the whole Asgardian refugee thing? Thor filled us in on most of what happened before that. Did something happen? Did Loki have anything to do with you running off again?”
I started. “Loki? Oh, no, no, I just…” my voice trailed off. “Didn’t want to mess up the resettlement efforts.” It remained unspoken, but the weight of what Tony had called my lack of self-preservation hung in the air.
“You haven’t seen him, then?”
“No, why would I?” Exhausted strain crept back into my tone. “Why would I have seen anyone?”
Tony leaned back against the leather cushions. “Huh. Well, we’ve lost tabs on a magical and probably homicidal extraterrestrial, but no news is good news, I suppose.”
That got my attention. My head shot up. “Loki isn’t still in Norway?”
“Nope. Gone without a trace, shortly after your disappearance. Certainly made us wonder.”
I frowned. “Loki and I have come to an understanding,” I murmured, almost to myself. “After Sakaar and Asgard…well, Sakaar and all changed things.”
I recalled waking again, heaving and trembling, naked under the foreign material of an Asgardian cloak. Loki was watching me, imperviously. “What happened?” I gasped out. “Where are we?”
“Surtur and Hela are locked in mortal combat for eternity, you punched a helwolf off the edge of the world, Asgard has been destroyed, and we are on route to Midgard—Earth, if you will.”
I blinked slowly, trying to process the new information and my surroundings. “Is that good?”
Loki chuckled humorlessly. “That is the question, is it not. We are yet alive.” He paused as I struggled to get up, bunching the cloak around me like a towel. “I take it you prefer this form.”
I nodded and startled as the cloak shifted around me into dark sweatpants, and purple flannel, and a tattered jacket I hadn’t seen since before my last code green on Earth. “Thanks.” He hadn’t said anything to that end, but I was beginning to suspect he had something to do with the other guy relinquishing his hold since no one else was to be seen, a task which must have been anything but pleasant. I was surprised he would have bothered.
Loki turned to leave, but paused in the doorway. “We all have a form we would prefer to forget, Banner,” he said softly, still turned away. “Dinner is in half an hour.”
“So,” Tony said, breaking the pregnant pause. “I don’t get it. You left Norway to come starve on the streets of New York? Not your MO big guy—thought you’d be hiding out in Tibet or something, not wandering around the city that never sleeps.”
Unconsciously, I drew my arms closer to myself. “Not sure how I got here,” I admitted. “After I left… ended up caught and taken to a lab somewhere for a while. Tests, experiments.” Torture, my mind supplied but my lips withheld. Anticipating the question, I haltingly spilled forth, “Don’t know who or why, just... next thing I know I’m on the streets completely lost.”
“A lab?” Peter queried, breaking his silence for the first time since they had left the apartment. “They experimented on you?” He looked horrified, and with good reason, given his own enhancement.
I shrugged, and deigned to elaborate further, choosing instead to turn my gaze to the foggy gray sky outside the car window.
“The new compound’s a pretty sweet set-up if I do say so myself,” Tony interjected with characteristic aplomb. “And after everything that happened in—well, after the Accords fallout… they still try to keep a tight rein but only from a distance. The paperwork requirements are excessive but nobody pokes their noses into anything that goes on in my space. I guess what I’m saying is, nobody is gonna know that you’re here, Bruce. I can keep the government off your back while we figure out what to do to keep you safe.”
I gave a short puff of a laugh that didn’t reach my eyes. Was anywhere really safe?
“Speaking of safety, are you hurt?”
“I’ll be fine.”
Tony took off his sunglasses with a frown. “Taken to a lab somewhere and experimented on doesn’t sound fine to me.”
“The other guy usually makes sure there isn’t any lasting damage.”
Tony grimaced. “That’s what I thought. Look, you don’t have to be tough for me. We can get some medical staff on the payroll, carefully background checked and sworn to secrecy—”
I laughed hollowly. “It’s not a question of being tough for you. I’m a biologist, Tony. I know. I just—I don’t need another person jabbing me and treating me like a specimen.”
Peter
I noticed that Tony dropped the subject after that, but I couldn’t help but worry that Bruce—Dr. Banner—was still hurt. My overactive senses were telling me that the man sitting across from me in Uncle Ben’s old clothes was still suffering profoundly, but there was nothing I could do.
Long moments later— “So… an intern, huh? Never struck me as the type to bring high schoolers into your lab.” Dr. Banner was watching Tony pretty closely, and I got the distinct impression that he knew something was up.
The frown that had been etched into Tony’s face pretty much since he had arrived at the apartment eased up slightly. “That’s your call, Petey boy.”
“Oh, um, actually,” I floundered, “Mr. Stark figured me out online and then we went to Germany and he upgraded my suit, and I almost joined you guys at one point, but the whole big disasters thing isn’t really my thing, I’m more of a friendly neighborhood helper, you know?”
“Underoos, you’re rambling.”
“I guess what I’m trying to say is, uh, hi, I’m Spider-Man, nice to meet you.” To his surprise, Bruce actually took the proffered hand gingerly in his own and shook it. A rare smile touched his lips.
“Nice to meet you too, Spiderman. Figured something was up in hindsight considering how you flipped those guys in the alley. Reminded me of…” his voice trailed off. It didn’t take a genius to realize he was thinking of Natasha, though both of his fellow occupants of the car fit the bill.
“I did kinda tell you,” I admitted, “but you were pretty out of it at the time. But yeah, I guess most people don’t flip muggers over their head on their average day out on the town.”
Tony’s frown came back. “You got mugged? Kid, you are the worst, the actual worst, at passing along important details. Seriously.”
Bruce shrugged. “Can you really call it a mugging if I didn’t have anything for them to take?”
“So a couple guys were beating you up in an alley? So much better.” A sudden thought occurred to Tony. “How’d the other guy feel about that?”
Bruce looked at Tony strangely. “I-I don’t know. Hulk’s been… well, how much did Thor mention about Sakaar? He was out for two years—TWO YEARS—I don’t remember any of it. Forced him out again to help with the battle on Asgard, and didn’t come back down again until we were almost to Mid—to Earth. Not sure how I got back, actually, but Loki dropped some comments about having needed more refined company, so I’m guessing he did something. He’s not a big fan of the Hulk, as you may imagine.” I felt like Bruce was hiding something, but I didn't know what.
Tony cracked a smile. “The dent in my floor would second that, yes.”
“Sorry about that,” Bruce mumbled automatically.
“Sorry? You were the only one of us who could even get close to incapacitating that guy, let alone actually succeeding. Totally worth the repairs.”
““Everything since I left Norway is pretty hazy,” Bruce admitted. “Except…well, it all blurs together. There are some gaps.”
“But no mentions of a rogue green rage machine on the news. Trust me, my AIs have been combing the web trying to find any sign of where you might have gone.”
“Sorry about that,” Bruce repeated abashedly. “I didn’t think—well, it seemed for the best—the crew had no need of me anymore—”
Tony sighed deeply. “Then why not come home, Bruce? We were so relieved, finding out that you were with Thor, and the you were just gone again, before any of us could talk to you or even see you.”
“I—I didn’t think of it that way,” Bruce mumbled. “Just trying to protect people—the world, really—from this.” He jabbed a finger against his chest. “I’m not like the kid here. There’s nothing friendly or neighborhood about this guy except when he’s being exploited by aliens to kill fellow prisoners over and over as a twisted form of public entertainment. The worst part is, he LIKED it. He craved the roar of the crowds, and the constant SMASHING, and do you have any idea what it’s like to live with that inside you? What kind of person would I have to be to want to bring that back to people I care about? I couldn’t live with that.”
Fortunately, Tony seemed to have exhausted his supply of yelling for the day. “So…the Avengers Compound should be a pretty safe place for you. I built in spaces to safely contain Hulk-outs if necessary. And as for nearby people…” he gave an empty chuckle. “Most of the nearby people cleared out after the Accords. Nowadays it’s mostly just Rhodey and Vision, and Vision, well—he’s Vision. Floats through walls, comes and goes as he pleases, always has some self-righteous commentary. Rhodey’s already been through hell and it was because of our erstwhile teammates, not you; and I’m pretty sure Vision is as Smash-proof as it gets.”
Bruce
“So everyone else really did leave,” I realized softly. “No contact with them?”
Tony shook his head, uncharacteristically subdued. “We… didn’t exactly part on the best of terms. They made some stupid choices—hell, I made some stupid choices too. There was a lot of collateral damage. Not all of it was the kind that can be repaired.” His hand went unconsciously to his left wrist. My heart twinged at the thought of some of the damage I had left behind myself, not all reparable itself.
“I’m sorry,” I said, reaching out of my self-imposed isolation for the first time to grasp Tony’s forearm. Voluntary contact with another person felt so strange and foreign to me after so long, but I fought the instinct to recoil because it seemed that the gesture was important to Tony.
“I’ve made reparations and provisions with the U.N. for them in case they ever change their minds, but doesn’t look like that’s ever going to happen.” He snorted. “Strictly off the record, I may have broken them out of jail a while back, but I don’t think even they know that. Barton and Lang both worked out a deal to move back with their families under careful surveillance, and fortunately neither has been dumb enough to blow that deal.”
“Lang?” I asked, frowning at the unfamiliar name.
“Ant-Man. Long story,” Tony said dismissively. “Some criminal that Hank Pym thought it wise to give a super suit to. And that man has the balls to criticize MY business practices.”
“There’s an Ant-Man and a Spider-Man?”*
Part of me wanted to ask after Natasha, craved it even, but I couldn’t bring myself to acknowledge the could-have-beens, or to pain Tony further by recollecting the events. I laughed instead, although it felt empty and hollow, almost as hollow as I did. After all of that hazy, lost time, I wasn’t sure if I could ever get myself back.
Tony fingering the gauze on my hand startled me into withdrawing it. “Hey, so what happened right before I got there?”
“Broke a glass.” I hunched around my arms again, not wanting to get back into it.
“Want Vision to take a look at it when we get back? He’s picked up a bunch of medical functions as a hobby recently. Think he feels guilty over what happened with Rhodes. Can’t say I mind, though, guy needs a hobby besides walking through walls.”
I shook my head quickly. “Nah, the kid’s good with first aid. I’ll be okay.” Peter practically beamed. The real reason remained unspoken. I didn’t want anyone getting a look at the older injuries, the lingering scabs and bruises that freaked me out and brought horrifying wave of emotions and images and sensations back to my mind at a rate where I felt like the flood would drown me in its weight. There were stories I wasn’t ready to tell. Words, shouted at me. Angry fists, but they weren’t mine. The relentless, ominous crack of electricity coursing through my body. Searing pain that overrode every other sensation. Raw, guttural screaming—I couldn’t tell if it was coming from me, or the Hulk, I’d never heard that sound before, but it was tearing out of my own throat. When would it end, oh God, make it stop, make it stop—
“Bruce, BRUCE. Banner, are you with me?” I jolted back into my surroundings to Tony’s hands on my shoulders, almost shaking me. “Breathe, dammit!”
The words registered, but with half a moment’s delay, and I sucked in the sweet air, gasping for breath.
“You’re gonna be okay, we’re in my car, Peter’s here, remember him? He found you on the street yesterday. We’re going upstate to the compound for a little while. Are you with me?”
Still struggling to control my trembling hands and ragged breathing, I forced out a nod.
“Flashback?” Tony queried. A wave of realization—Tony’s had those, he gets it—helped relax the remaining tension in my body.
“I-I guess,” I stammered. “It’s over now, though.” The words were as much a reassurance to myself as to anyone else in the car.
Tony nodded. I could tell he was making a conscious effort not to push on the subject, and for that I was grateful. As long as I didn’t have to admit it out loud, I could pretend what I had been through wasn’t real.
“Sorry about that.” I picked at the ragged sleeves of the jacket I had put back on over the clothes Peter had given me. Although the other garments had been completely trashed, I had clung to the worn outer garment as a comfort blanket of sorts.
“It’s okay, Dr. Banner,” Peter piped in. I’d almost forgotten he was there—had he fallen asleep for part of the journey? Had I woken him up? “Everyone gets those sometimes. Well, not everyone, but—I guess what I’m trying to say is that it could happen to anyone, especially in response to trauma, so you don’t need to apologize. I’ve had a couple after accidentally destroying Coney Island and Ned’s had to help me breathe and remember where I am, too.”
Tony frowned. “Kid, we need to have a serious talk about things you should probably tell me right away instead of randomly mentioning them after.”
“It doesn’t work itself into normal conversation all that easily!” Peter protested. “Besides, whenever I see you I’m always distracted by being excited about projects in the lab and stuff.”
“I don’t need our friendly neighborhood Spider-Man winding up with PTSD!” Noticing my flinch at the level of his voice, Tony softened his tone. “We’ll talk later about finding you a therapist who can keep their mouth shut. There’s no shame in needing help.”
“The counselor I see through school has been great about that, actually,” Peter piped up. “I’ve been seeing one off and on since my parents died. Since she’s already been bound to confidentiality through her job, she’s been a great place to talk this stuff out.”
“Really?”
“My generation is a lot more accepting and aware of mental health than yours is. No offense.”
Tony probably would have had something to say about that, but we were pulling up to the compound. Gates opened automatically on recognition of the car and Happy at the wheel.
“Wow,” I breathed. “This is quite the place.”
“Yep,” Tony said happily. “We’ll get you set up in your own space ASAP. Hell, you can have multiple apartments if you want. It’s been pretty empty as of late. Pete, your official story is pretty much exactly what happened—you picked up Banner on the street and gave me a ring—minus any mention of Spidey. Sound good?”
I blinked, trying to catch up. “Wait, do the other guys not know about…”
“I’m trying to keep my identity secret,” Peter explained apologetically, grabbing his blue, surprisingly new-looking backpack he had packed up for the weekend. “What with school, and trying not to have anyone target Aunt May or my friends. So no, I haven’t told the rest of the team, although they probably have some idea. Mr. Stark isn’t really the type to let teenagers in his lab out of the blue.”
I nodded. Keeping one's identity a secret seemed like a reasonable idea to me.
~
The first person we met on the way up the steps was Vision, phasing through one of the large columns. Peter and I jumped; Tony seemed unfazed. “Hey Vis. Didja miss me?” he asked.
“Dr. Banner. It is an honor to see you again.” The red AI inclined his head in greeting and floated down to the floor. Even though Vision had been partially the result of my own work alongside Tony, the greeting was still unnerving.
“Thank you, it’s good to see you too.”
“You are unwell,” a voice murmured, as if in my ear. I jumped, and looked around, but it seemed only Vision noticed and was watching me intently, whether for reply or acknowledgement I couldn’t tell.
“Don’t do that,” I muttered perturbedly. Tony gave me an odd look, but chose not to question it.
“Shall I inform the others of your arrival, Mr. Stark?”
“Yes, that’s fine. Tell them team dinner at 6; I’ll fill them in then.”
“Others?” Peter asked. “I thought it was just Colonel Rhodes.”
“Erik Selvig’s been camping out here on and off for a while,” Tony supplied as Vision swept away through the wall. “Helen Cho has open access to a lab as well, but she’s usually away. Recently she’s been camping out near New Asgard helping out with xenobiology and getting Thor’s crew up-to-date on Earth diseases and so forth. Pepper’s in Norway at the moment as well, helping with the resettlement negotiations. So my money’s on Erik. Hey Petey boy, show Bruce to the suite down the hall from your room. I should go check in with him.”
“Sure,” Peter replied with enthusiasm. “Right this way, Dr. Banner. Uh, do you mind if I ask you some questions about your research later?”
The kid’s joie de vivre was contagious and I couldn’t help agreeing. “Okay, sure.”
I don’t know what I was expecting, but the suite certainly outdid it. Gentle light from the window spilled in across deep blue and purple wallpaper and wooden floors. Carved wooden figurines I vaguely remembered making before Ultron sat against a carefully bookended line of my old papers and folders on the otherwise empty desk. A piano occupied the corner opposite my bed. In keeping with my dislike of confined spaces, the suite spilled openly from one living space to another, lacking barriers aside from the bathroom door.
“Wow,” I breathed.
“Glad you like it.” I jumped, turning to find Tony leaning against the doorframe. “Sorry about that, big guy—I forget not everybody senses me coming like Peter. Anyway, let me know what changes you want, or if you’d like more space.”
“No, no, this is…” my voice trailed off, choked up and at loss for words. “This is great. Are you sure—are you sure about having me here?”
“Of course. Why wouldn’t I be? This apartment has been in the works for you since I moved out of the tower. By the way,” he gestured at the far wall and enunciated, “Code: green.”
A reinforced panel concealed under the soothing wallpaper slid open, revealing a very different room. My eyes skimmed over it, noting the beams and materials still clearly visible on the bare walls. “Hulk proof?”
Tony shrugged. “Theoretically. I based it on some of the stuff we had drawn up back before Ultron. Obviously, it hasn’t been tested, but should the need arise it ought to at least minimize the impact. I know that’s a concern for you.”
I nodded. “Thank you. Tony, I—I don’t know what to say.”
Tony brushed it off casually. “Don’t say anything then. I like having you around, and I like making my friends as comfortable as possible. Now go settle in, rearrange the furniture, jump on the bed, whatever. Oh, and Banner?” he paused on the way back out the door.
“Yeah?”
“Welcome home.”
*quote from Avengers: Infinity War