Bruce
Bruce had been living with the Avengers for three months now. Three glorious, comfortable, safe months.
He was an idiot for thinking it could last. For forgetting that, Avenger or no, he was a monster. For forgetting about Thaddeus Ross.
The Avengers had been called to deal with a situation just north of the city. Some ancient rock creatures had awakened and were set on destroying human civilization. Thor had gone into great detail about it; apparently they appeared in some of the other worlds he'd been to. Bruce and Tony were going to study them later, figure out their molecular structure, the anatomy and physiology, normal "science bros" stuff.
That was all Bruce could recall. It'd gone to Code Green pretty quick, and his memories of the battle were hazy at best.
Now he was lying half-naked in a crater with broken trees and crumbling buildings around him. He sat up and winced, both at the pain in his aching body (Hulking and de-Hulking took a lot out of a man) and the collateral damage the Other Guy had caused. Tony always wrote the checks to pay for it, and Bruce tried to make it up to him by helping him with Stark Industries tech.
Somehow he'd gone from northern NYC to Central Park. Bruce stood and brushed the dirt off his skin, determined to find a phone so he could call the others and make sure they were all right. One of the Avengers was usually around when he woke up. The fact that they weren't either meant they were all caught up in the clean-up, or something was very, very wrong.
Bruce didn't even see the soldiers coming until he was surrounded by armed men, pointing some very big guns at him.
His stomach sank as he raised his arms. This again.
A few trucks came in from the street, military-grade. Thaddeus Ross opened the door from one of them and stood. "Good evening, Banner."
"General," Bruce replied. "Weren't you given presidential orders to stand down?"
"I was," Ross admitted. "Unless I was given evidence that indicated you were becoming too great a risk for the American public. And I have that now."
Bruce swallowed. "How? What happened?"
"You killed three women today, Banner."
Bruce's heart stopped. "What?!"
"They were trapped in a car that you decided to throw at one of those rock-monsters. The good news is we're pretty sure they died instantly. But, they still died." Ross gave him a hard look. "Didn't I warn you something like this would happen?"
Bruce felt sick, and he wanted to kick himself. He'd been so sure that by being on the Avengers team, he would be good. That Hulk would behave at least a little. That if nothing else the other Avengers could stop him before he did something like this.
Stupid Banner. Stupid, stupid Banner...
"He's lying!" someone shouted.
Bruce jumped. Everyone looked around and up. A blue and red figure waved at them from one of the trees.
"Those women did die, but they were thrown by one of the rock-monsters," Spider-Man said. "Hulk actually tried to save them, and when he couldn't, he got really pissed. Smashed Rocky pretty good."
"We're supposed to take the word of a vigilante?" Ross challenged.
"Let's ask Captain America, then. He saw the whole thing," Spider-Man replied. He held out his hands as if balancing a scale. "Should we trust the word of a corrupt, psychotic general, or the hero of WWII and the Chitauri invasion. Hmmm..."
Bruce could breathe again. He was innocent?
"You know, taking you out would get me a pretty good favor from the local police," Ross commented, as half a dozen guns turned to Spider-Man. "How long have they wanted you behind bars now?"
"One year, seven months, and sixteen days, sir!" Spider-Man reported, complete with a salute. "And according to my watch, about thirteen hours and maybe twenty minutes? Twenty-five?"
"Shut him up," Ross ordered.
"Wait!" Bruce called. "Wait, don't hurt him."
"No, by all means, give it your best shot." Spider-Man sat on the tree branch, getting more comfortable. "Betchya can't hit me."
"Fire," Ross ordered.
"Don't!" Bruce cried, but it was too late. The soldiers were already pulling their triggers.
Click. Click. Click.
They looked down at their empty guns.
"Yeah, I feel I should mention the fact that I saw you guys gathering outside the city when the Avengers were called," Spider-Man said. "And I overheard General Douchebag say that you were going to take Dr. Banner in no matter what. You don't really need ammo to do that, do you?"
Ross pulled out his handgun, checked to make sure it was indeed loaded, and aimed it at Spider-Man.
Spider-Man jumped, a red and blue blur, as Ross fired. He shot a web with one hand, swung, and snatched Bruce with the other. Bruce yelped, then tried to cover Spider-Man's body as much as he could while Ross kept firing. Bruce wouldn't die if he got hit. Spider-Man couldn't claim the same.
They finally stopped swinging twelve blocks away. Bruce staggered when he was set on the ground, his stomach lurching. He braced himself against a building.
"You okay?" Spider-Man asked.
"I might vomit," he confessed.
"Sorry."
Bruce took several deep breaths, meditating. When he was sure he wasn't going to be sick, he said, "Thank you. For doing that."
"No biggy."
"Yes, it is," Bruce insisted. "That...people don't do that. You shouldn't, either. You have a hard enough time with the cops. Don't add the military to the list."
Spider-Man shifted his feet, suddenly serious. "Dr. Banner, someone once told me that with great power comes great responsibility. I had the power to help you. That means I have that responsibility. It's the same reason you're on the Avengers. You don't do it for kicks and giggles, even if it is kinda fun sometimes. You do it because...you have to."
Bruce looked at Spider-Man out of the corner of his eye. Even though the mask was still there, Bruce felt he was seeing the truest version of Spider-Man.
The vigilante quickly switched topics. "Hey, I read your thesis on gamma radiation's effects on the human body--obviously this was before the whole...uh, thing--and I was wondering if you think the same applies to enhanced bodies, like mine or Captain America's?"
Bruce stiffened. "Why do you ask?"
"Because if there's an emergency in, like, a nuclear plant, or something, it'd be really great to know if I was going to die or not going in there. Spiders aren't cockroaches; we don't really do well with radiation, but I'm technically a mutant and those guys tend to break the rules of science a lot, so..."
Bruce relaxed, even chuckled. "I have no idea. I imagine you'd be able to be exposed to more radiation for longer periods of time before you started experiencing symptoms of poisoning, but I wouldn't know the exact amounts. I wouldn't go testing it, either."
"Eh, worth a shot." Spider-Man put a hand on Bruce's shoulder, tugging him away from the building. "Come on. Let's get you back to your team. Wouldn't want you to get caught by General Douche again."
"Are they okay?" Bruce demanded.
"They're fine. Just got caught in a bit of clean-up. Hulk doesn't like doing chores, does he? He left as soon as the fighting was over." Spider-Man grinned beneath the mask. "Ready?"
Bruce hiccupped. "Sure."