Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

She sat in the cramped waiting room, staring at the four inch space of wall between the top of the plastic chairs that sat in a neat row and the TV permanently stuck on mute playing subtitles to a show she couldn’t concentrate on. As antiseptic and pine sol filled her nostrils, the sounds of PA announcements, the squeak of wheelchairs down hallways, and the beeping of heart monitors nearby and hushed voices filled the lengthy hallway outside of the tiny alcove that had become hers. She sat there, a statue frozen in time with her hair piled into a bun that was too messy for her liking, a floral maxi dress that served as the only dress she could fit into, and the sandals currently covering her swollen feet. One arm was draped languidly over the armrest of the chair, causing the split shanked diamond ring and studded band beneath it to glint under the fluorescent lights. The other curved protectively over a stomach so gravid she felt it almost spilled out of the chair.

She simply kept her eyes on the single line of black cord that united the TV and Chairs as though it were the only thing tethering her to sanity. And perhaps it was. As the zwoop! And exhale sound of automatic doors opening and closing added to the white noise of her mind, she barely registered it. Only when out of the corner of her eye she spied a hint of black did the wires in her mind begin to connect again.

“Romanoff?”

In an underwater echo, a familiar voice sounded, calling her- or who she used to be at least. Slowly, her head swiveled, taking in a black trench coat and gloves before ever seeing the face of the speaker, knowing his identity before she ever saw his face or eye patch.

Nick Fury stood before her, a scowl and confusion warring on his face as he regarded her. She was only dimly aware of the fact that she was under scrutiny, and that his sharp eye was taking in every bit of her. Ordinarily she would have regarded him with anger or brashness, but today her confusion kept her hostage to shock as she looked at him in bewilderment.

“What are you doing here…?”

The Director of SHIELD was a practiced man in recognizing signs of shock, be it in Soldiers or Agents alike. And though he held a stern and no-nonsense demeanor, he recognized when to be gentle. Swallowing the Fury he felt for being in a fucking hospital in the first place, he sat down in the chair beside her and tried to put aside the plethora of questions the sight of her like this gave him for the moment- to be revisited when she was more coherent.

“Banner.” He said, and with the way her gaze sharpened at the mention, it was clear she was listening at least. “Only survivor on a plane full of doctors that went down due to mechanical failure? That catches my attention.”

She tried to process what he said, truly she had. But all she managed was a quiet “Oh…” before her heart seemed to drop.

The sound of that word painted a clearer picture for the SHIELD Director, more than she meant to tell, at least. Pieces began to fit themselves into Fury’s mind as he took in her reaction to the sound of Bruce Banner’s name, along with the glimmer of a rather large diamond on her left hand and her rounded stomach painted a picture that was very clear.  But because he knew better than to make assumptions, he restrained his questioning of that for the moment.

“What are you doing here?” He asked in a tone that demanded an answer but wasn’t his usual harsh bark either.

Natasha didn’t register the question until a moment later, eyes returning to the black wire. “They called me…” She murmured.

“They? The Hospital?” Nick Fury asked, and her head bobbed up and down, gaze fixed on something he couldn’t see and wasn’t sure he wanted to. “Why did they call you?”

“They always call next of kin…. It’s procedure.” Her voice was flat, as though she were simply explaining actual hospital procedure and not dropping a live grenade in Fury’s lap that was sure to make him explode.

He had to visibly take a moment to keep himself composed before he asked his next question. “Next of kin for who?”

“Bruce.” The way she said his name in such a fragile whisper as though it would break her apart was in utter contrast to the sheer devastation it created inside of Nick Fury as his mind raced through the implications. Natasha Romanoff was married to the man who transformed into The Hulk of all people and was seemingly heavily pregnant with his offspring, called to the hospital after being informed of her husband being the lone survivor of a plane crash and in critical condition at that.

And he hadn’t known about any of it.

For a few minutes, his mind reeled as he tried to pinpoint anything off in their interactions when he’d seen them, but they’d been as professional as he’d ever seen them. It was a big secret. A huge one in fact, for someone in his position to be kept in the dark about, and yet somehow they’d pulled it off flawlessly. For a span of time he didn’t know whether to be angry or impressed by such a feat. When his own surprise of that happening abated, he chose anger.

“You mean to tell me you’ve been married to Banner for god knows how long and you didn’t think to inform me?” His voice was dangerously low, but it didn’t phase her.

“That was the plan, yes…” She said quietly, and as much as he wanted to go off on her the sobering reality of what she was going through kept a lid on his anger enough that only some of it boiled over.

“You planned for this?!” He bellowed, in some strange mixture of baffled and exasperated.

“We could have never planned for this...” The statement was so melancholy, so unlike her that it threw him for a loop, and he attempted to simmer down. This was not Natasha Romanoff, an elite spy and assassin and an Ex-KGB agent who had survived the harshest conditions. This was a wife and expectant mother grappling with the possible reality of a husband never coming home and a father not being able to see his children. And while he might have been termed heartless by many, his compassion for people was what kept him in this job, and he was not above extending it to one of his agents.

Executing it correctly, however, was a beast of an entirely different breed. Yet still, he tried.

“Banner’s a tough son of a bitch. He’ll pull through.” He said, when he decided empty platitudes were meaningless in times like this. “If he survived this long when everyone else didn’t, it’s for a reason. Means he’s fighting from the inside.”

Natasha finally turned to him, the comment seeming to vaguely register in the flickering of her expression from shocked to softened, before it hardened into something blank again. “Thank you.”

“Don’t get too comfortable. After he’s out of surgery I’m ripping you both a new one about agent relationship protocols.” He muttered to himself, and his grousing was almost enough to make her smile, though she couldn’t quite bring herself to manage it. 

They sat in quiet for a few moments in a silence brimming with unspoken questions. Finally though, Fury voiced one.

“How far along?”

He hadn’t needed to ask whether she was pregnant or not. There was no way her stomach would have been that rounded and large otherwise. He had many, many questions about how that was possible since according to his information both of them were sterile, but that could wait until after the worst was over.

“Eight months.” She said, and his eye blew open wide, automatically tilting left on impulse. He’d never paid much attention to pregnancy, but he knew that eight months was close to term and that there was no way she should be sitting here in such condition without massive amounts of pain involved.

“You should rest.” He said, very deliberate about keeping his tone gentle.

“I’m not going anywhere.” It was the first reply he’d gotten out of her that showed even a sliver of her usual determination and willpower. It sparked a little more hope in him than he might have wanted to admit he had.

“Romanoff-“ He began but was cut off by a very firm and direct reply.

“That’s not my name!” She said in what was just shy of a shout. Then, quieter: “Not here… Never here…”

And deciding arguing that with a pregnant assassin was definitely not worth the possible bodily damage, he simply moved forward differently. “Natasha, this is not what Bruce would want you to be doing in this condition.” He said, sounding perfectly reasonable and even empathetic, which felt like nails on a chalkboard to her. This wasn’t how this was supposed to go. Fury was supposed to yell and get angry and rip her a new one, and she was supposed to knock it right back to him and make him regret ever bothering to do so in the first place.

But she couldn’t. Not when he was being like this, treating her like an actual human being instead of a trained agent. His compassion wasn’t something she knew how to handle. Instead of being given a wall to knock down she was given a soft place to land instead, and the inherent humanness of that was enough to break the helmet of shock that encased her just enough to let reality trickle in, more than she might have wanted it to.

“He isn’t here.” She said, and the words were a sour candy in her mouth. “It’s not his choice.”

Nick Fury studied her as though she were a blueprint to a locked vault he had to get into, calculating and strategizing as though one wrong word would shatter her to pieces. Fragile wasn’t a word he tended to associate with anyone who had survived things that Natasha Romanoff had endured, and yet it was playing out right in front of his eyes. He saw the subtle tremor of shivering that came with being in such a rush to get to the hospital she hadn’t thought to grab a sweater, or the way she seemed to unconsciously gravitate her body toward the hand that wore her wedding ring as though it was a talisman against losing her husband. Above all was the hand kept draped around her stomach, trying to protect her unborn children from the pain and grief of losing their father when such a thing hadn’t even occurred yet. 

Nick Fury decided to take this one piece at a time, out of courtesy more than anything. Though chivalrous was certainly not among the words that would be oft used to describe him, he knew when delicate circumstances required more of him. And considering two of his people were in the thick of it right now after selflessly sacrificing themselves to the greater good time and again, he knew this was the time to give the most support he could manage. 

“Who knows you’re here?”

“Nobody.” She said, and hated the way her voice broke on the word.

Fury’s forehead grew lined as soon as his eyebrows shot up into where his hairline should have been. “You’re due in a month with your husband in surgery and you haven’t told a soul?” He sounded exasperated just hearing it and sighed in exhaustion. “Christ…”

“We planned it that way…” Her voice sounded far away. “Not telling anyone so that if they didn’t make it… Nobody would be disappointed.”

A single word caught his attention immediately. “They?” He asked and felt a rare ball of dread form in his stomach.

Natasha rubbed her stomach as though it were a lucky charm, dress visibly shifting as little feet kicked at her from inside. “It’s twins…”

For a moment, Nick Fury was sure his heart had stopped. But then, he carefully collected himself, took in a very deep breath, and did what he knew how to do: Make the best of the situation at hand. “Identical or Fraternal?”

“One of each. Boy and a girl.” She said.

Fraternal then. Nick Fury felt odd asking the ext question that came out of his mouth. “And you’re… happy?”

“I was…”

Something about those two words was more devastating than most of the tragedy he’d seen in his life. There was something so resigned and accepting of defeat in those words that it both pained and agitated him in equal measure as he regarded her carefully. 

“It’s not over yet.” He said, in what was as close to a comfort as he could give at the moment without it sounding like a lie. This wasn’t the time for empty platitudes. Whether he liked it or not, Natasha had no one else at the moment but him, and deserved the best of whatever solace he could give. It might have been easier to do if they weren’t both such closed off people, but in that was a kind of kinship and understanding too. There was no lying to one another for comfort, no sugarcoating things, or trying to fill the space with empty platitudes that neither of them believed in. Those four words were a reminder to her in the only way he could give that she wasn’t at the end of a journey yet, but rather a stasis of waiting, though that was only marginally better.

Natasha merely sighed, as though the idea of that only made things more complicated. And in some ways, it did. “We’ll find out.” She said, unusually uncertain.

And at that, Nick had merely nodded, knowing they would one way or another.

Another silence stretched between them, this one more comfortable than the last. Nick Fury teemed with questions over circumstances out of his control as Natasha attempted to grapple with the reality of the circumstances before her. But for the moment, she was not alone. And somehow, that eased her mind marginally. It was a strange relief to not be able to drown in her own fears and it kept her afloat for the time being.

After a while, Fury broke the silence between them. “How long have you been here?” He managed after he’d gotten over the sheer bombardment of surprises to think logistically again.

“What time is it?”

He glanced at his watch. “Two.”

“PM?”

“Mhm.”

“I got the call at ten so… four hours?”

“You’ve been sitting here this whole time?”

“I haven’t really noticed that much.” She admitted. “There isn’t a clock here…”

Fury couldn’t help but think that maybe that was for the best. “Well. You won’t be waiting by yourself anymore.” He grunted.

The words were said gruffly but there was cashmere comfort in their promise of not sitting in this purgatory alone. Though she’d never admit it aloud, there was some hidden instinct that had told her that she wasn’t as alone as she’d perceived herself to be. Not because of the babies growing inside of herself, but something else. Something she couldn’t name, but sensed nearby that wrapped around her with the familiarity of her favorite pair of worn-in running shoes. It wasn’t something she dwelled on, but that niggled at the edge of her mind even with her senses dulled by tragedy.

“Thank you.” She said softly, and Nick had grunted in affirmation beside her, mind running a million miles a minute trying to figure out the logistics of such a catastrophic amount of top secret information that had been withheld from his knowledge. There was a delicate problem posed to him now that he hadn’t- and couldn’t, for that matter- have foreseen. He was the sole emotional support to a woman who was pregnant with twins that could pop at any moment who was dealing with the potential of becoming a single mother overnight.

There were things to do now, he knew. He should have been contacting Helen Cho to get Natasha checked out with the full knowledge of someone who at least understood the effects this pregnancy with gamma powered twins could possibly have on her. To give Deputy Director Hill a call and have her start looking into that plane crash to see if it was actually mechanical failure or foul play as his worst suspicions suspected. To call somebody for Natasha that she would have wanted to be there with her, like Clint or Steve or hell, even Yelena Belova. But instead, he sat. Because if there was one thing he understood well, it was the value of silence in moments like this. Natasha did not need his action going against her wishes yet when she was so clearly depleted. She simply needed someone to be present with her.

And, whether he liked it or not, Nick Fury was willing and able to do that much for one of his agents who had put her life on the line not just for his country but against her own. It was a small sacrifice that seemed wholly necessary in that moment. If the most he could do was offer his companionship and protection to her in a rare moment of vulnerability from one of the most composed and calm Assassins he’d ever met, then that is what he would do. He didn’t do emotions, but he knew damn well to never leave a man or woman behind. And so he sat, hoping for Bruce Banner’s survival and healing, and Natasha’s endurance to let her hold off on having those babies until her husband was able to be there with her.

One thing was sure to him now: This was definitely a good reason to hate Mondays.

Chapter Text

After a lengthy spell of silence, Nick Fury decided to break it.

“How the hell did you two even…?” He trailed off but gestured to her stomach with his head, cocking it to the left as he always did when he was curious.

Natasha was so quiet he thought she might not have heard the question or even understood it for that matter. But then: “The others…”

“Others?” Nick asked, emphasizing the “s”.

“There’s more than one… There’s five of them.” She said.

He needed no context as to what she was referring to— of course she’d meant the Hulk. But hearing the number five in conjunction with that took him a long moment to wrap his head around. “And they… did what?”

“Not they. He.”

“Just one?”

She nodded. “His tears are healing… He came out one night when someone tried to break into our house… When it was over, He called me to the backyard and explained that he could even heal that…” She said and glanced at her stomach, trying not to remember the forced hysterectomy she’d endured as a teenager. “I asked if he could heal Bruce too, and he agreed. Told me to gather one of Bruce’s vials and collect his tears. I did. And when he applied it… We… We got pregnant with them.”

Nick Fury did his best not to try and turn the conversation into an interrogation, but she was making it terribly difficult. “He talks?”

“They do… All of them. Some more than others.”

“You’ve met them all?”

“They… like me.”

Fury’s eyebrows raised at that. “…You’re shittin’ me.”

She shook her head. “I didn’t treat any of them as monsters… so they didn’t treat me as a weapon. Bruce said that to me once, and I never forgot it.”

Fury had to pause and contemplate that a moment. It was a powerful statement that made him reflect on his own actions more than he wanted to admit. He’d always viewed those under his command as assets more than people. But for the two of them to see the humanity in one another before they saw power or ability… it was a sobering show of kinship. Something solid and durable to build a foundation on. It hadn’t quite clicked for him why the badass assassin he knew had fallen for the shy scientist prone to bouts of green rage, but something clicked into place for him in that moment as he realized the profound bond they had to have shared in being so othered for ability rather than personality. It was a revelation that surprised him as much as it amazed him. 

“Damn…”

He found his gaze drawn to the ring on her hand, abnormally large and luminescent compared to her usual subtle and more subdued tastes. He had little knowledge of jewelry but knew a diamond that size had to be a few karats, easily. The band of it seemed to cross in an x shape beneath it, the slim silver line studded with tiny diamonds that shimmered in the fluorescent lights. The wedding band beneath it was simple and silver, the only adornment on it being a single engraved Celtic knot. That small detail somehow packed a huge punch to his usually stone cold heart. He’d studied plenty of knots in and out of the military and knew the one on it.

It was the Celtic shield knot.

Not only a play on words with the agency they worked for but a symbol of protection that he assumed they had both bestowed upon one another. A promise engraved in silver to protect, defend, and strengthen one another from harm, evil spirits, and bad luck. He couldn’t decide if he found it sweet or a bitter irony given the current circumstances, and chose to ignore it for the moment, grappling for something else to say.

“You pick out names yet?”

For the first time in a while, he felt as though he’d gotten Natasha’s attention as she turned to look at him, not with hollowness but sincerity.

“We have.” She nodded. “We haven’t told anybody but… Someone might as well know.”

“I’m listening.” He said, and he was. In spite of himself, he was curious.

“We named them for our heritages and people whose attributes we hope they have. Our daughter will be Rebecca Yelena after Bruce’s mother and my sister. And our son will be Nikolai Alexander. After Alexander the Great… And the Russian version of your name.”

The last sentence managed to do something almost unthinkable and caught Nick Fury off guard. His eye widened in shock. “Me…? You’re… Naming your kid after me?”

For the first time, a smirk that resembled the Natasha he knew crossed her face. “If you hadn’t sent me to India to find him, we would have never met, and these kids wouldn’t exist. It just might have been the greatest call of your career.” She said.

It was factual and sentimental all at the same time, and somehow, it served to fill Fury with an odd sense of pride. “Damn right.” He said, pleased with himself if only for a moment.

The sound of heels clacking on tile sounding instantly made Natasha’s back straighten from it’s hunched position and Fury found his eye searching for a threat, but only saw a woman in A black pantsuit passing by. 

“Hey Natasha.” She said, smiling bright as the sun as Nick Fury looked back at his agent, surprised to hear someone else addressing her by name.

“Hey, Charlotte.” Natasha had said in a voice that was far too happy to sound like her. The smile on her face looked natural, but Nick was close enough to see the trembling at the edges, a forced show of normalcy.

“Coming to the fundraiser next week?”

“Of course.” She’d smiled.

“See you there!” Said the woman, blonde ponytail flipping as she turned her head away, and Nick Fury saw Natasha actively deflate in real time afterward.

“Who the hell was that?”

“Charlotte Davenport. Her husband Dalton works in Cardiology.”

Fury looked baffled. “How do you know that?”

“Bruce works here in the ER for a day job.”

“You wanna explain how that little detail somehow slipped past my records?” Fury asked, feeling that strange combination of angry and impressed.

“He applied under his given name. Robert.”

Somehow that didn’t serve to make him feel any better. “And you’re… what? Playing Holly hospital housewife here?”

She gave a long-suffering sigh, and for a second something akin to guilt rose up in Fury’s chest before he tamped it back down. “You wouldn’t understand.”

“Try me.”

“It’s… normal here.” She said, the words tasting strange on her tongue to actually say them aloud. “I’m not an Avenger or an Assassin or an Asset… I’m somebody’s wife, and I’m going to be a mother. It’s not something I could have ever imagined happening but… In a weird way it’s nice. There’s nothing to prove, no past attached, no expectations or rules that I have to set for myself… They like me because of who I married and don’t hate me for knowing what I really am. I don’t want to sacrifice that to this job. The anonymity… It’s a luxury I didn’t think I could have.”

Nick Fury was halfway between surprised and amused. “You’re happy this way.”

It was a statement, not a question.

“The talk about carpools and kid’s soccer games makes me nuts sometimes and some of these fake women drive me up the wall… But at the end of the day we all have husbands who work too much and deal with weird sleep and unpredictable call times for them and all of the baggage that comes from them doing this job, all while we’re trying to raise families and hold down the fort at home. It’s a weird sort of camaraderie to have with other women, but it’s nice.”

“Didn’t take you for the PTA mom type.” Fury leaned back in his chair, contemplative.

“We both know I’m not… Not really. But for them, I think I could be. And I will be.” She said with a quiet resolve that left Fury without any doubt over her dedication to these children that were coming into her life in a short time.

“You really want to give up the international travel and excitement of this job for bake sales and hospital brunches?”

“It’s not about me… It’s about us giving them what we never had.” She said, and he noticed the use of the pronoun but said nothing. “Parents who are there for them and love them. Consistently. No matter how bad it is or how hard they’re struggling, they’ll never wonder if we love them. Or if we wanted them at all. I don’t know how good of a mother I’ll be, but I can give them that much.”

“You’ll be a good one.” Nick said, in a rare moment of sincerity. “You’ll appreciate every moment you have with them, even the bad ones, because you know how quickly everything can change and will do everything you can to protect them from that kind of loss.”

Natasha seemed genuinely pleasantly surprised at the compliment, and even smiled a little. “You’re getting soft in your old age, Director.”

“Don’t get it twisted, agent. When Banner is out of that hospital bed, I’ll be tearing you both to shreds for the amount of protocols you both decided were beneath you and the blatant lack of transparency. But there’s a time and a place for that, and it ain’t here.”

“Good to know there are standards for this sort of thing.” She remarked dryly, and Nick huffed in the closest thing to a laugh that he would allow himself.

After a moment, he spoke again. “You shouldn’t be here without support.”

“I have the ER staff here to help me. I’ll be fine.”

“I mean people who actually know you. Barton, Rogers… Somebody.”

“There’s nobody I want here with me… The one person I want here is in Surgery right now.”

“And he wouldn’t want you to be doing this alone.”

She sighed, in acknowledgement of the truth in that.

“I know… I just don’t know how to be with people right now. They’ll ask so many questions and be pissed about not knowing about this… They won’t understand. I don’t need the Stark Inquisition of why I didn’t tell him that we got married or were expecting when we did everything we could to avoid the cameras of the paparazzi that trail him like bloodhounds. We wanted this time to be for ourselves. And I don’t want to have to defend that. I don’t have it in me.”

Her tone was weary, and that much Nick Fury could understand. If he had a million questions, no doubt the other Avengers would too, but without his practice in emotional detachment. Still, the fact that no one who cared about her wellbeing was there bothered him. But he didn’t dwell on it as he noticed her head snap to the empty wall next to them as her body shuddered. He could have counted it as her being cold, but her reaction was too alert to be, as though she’d heard something he hadn’t.

“What is it?” He asked sharply.

She was quiet for a long moment. Then: “…Nothing.”

“That didn’t look like nothing to me.”

“…Just my mind playing tricks on me.” She said with the kind of Melancholy that made him want to cringe.

“In what way?”

“…I keep smelling his body spray.” She said quietly. “He wears that Axe Apollo crap and I told him for most of my pregnancy that it was making me nauseous. But I’m still smelling it here… As if not knowing if he's alive wasn’t torment enough.”

Fury nodded. It made sense for her to try and cling to whatever piece of him she had left. And yet… Something about her reaction perturbed him for reasons he didn’t quite understand. Before he could analyze it any further, a woman with her brown hair tied up in a bun in dark blue scrubs and New Balance sneakers came walking toward them holding a styrofoam carton. and he watched Natasha soften before his eyes into someone soft and vulnerable.

“Judy… Any news?” She asked, unsure of whether to sound hopeful or not.

“No ma’am, Mrs. Banner. Nothing yet.” She said, and held out the white styrofoam box. “Figured you could use something to eat.”

She attempted to make a grateful smile, and opened the box. Her expression turned surprised when she saw it’s contents. “Beef Stroganoff with extra sour cream, pickles, and hot Cheeto dust… This- This is the only thing I’ve been able to keep down for weeks. How did you…?” She asked, floored at the specificity of her cravings being brought to her in such a circumstance.

“Doctor Banner left me with some instructions in case he couldn’t be here for you for any reason. He left some money and kept track of your cravings on a board in his office. I ran over on my break to get it for you.” She said and reached into her pant pocket, pulling out a folded up piece of paper from it and offered it to her. “He asked me to give this to you.”

She saw her name written on the note in his messy hand, and it felt as though she were taking a lifeline rather than a simple piece of paper. “Thank you.” She said, and even Fury felt the depth of her gratitude in those two simple words.

“Anytime.” Judy promised, and turned, leaving the pair of them sitting there.

Natasha’s hands visibly trembled as she unfolded the piece of paper, and saw the words scribbled on it in his messy hand, somehow legible just for her, or so it felt that way.

They need you to eat. You have to take care of yourself now, for them. I love you, and I’m still with you. You’ll know when it’s me.

Her hand shook like a leaf at the sight of his practicality and gentle reassurance and wasn’t sure whether to take the timing of this as some mystical sign that he wasn’t gone yet or just some crazy coincidence. Either way, she knew logically that he was right, and so she took her fork out from it’s plastic sealant and started eating with her Stomach as a table, eyes glittering like prisms as she tried to hold back her tears.

Wisely, Nick Fury held his tongue in refrain from asking about the note, instead waiting until she’d set the box aside to speak again.

“You need some water?”

After a brief hesitation, she nodded. “That would be great, thanks.” She said, sounding distracted.

Fury didn’t ask, merely went to find the nearest vending machine, got a cold water from it, and brought it back, noticing how distracted the Black Widow seemed even as he held the water out to her.

“Thanks.” She muttered, and took a long drink as Fury grunted and sat down beside her. He waited until the bottle was capped before speaking again.

“What’s got you distracted, aside from the obvious?” He asked, unable to help himself from asking when she was so clearly bothered.

“…He said he’s still with me, and I’d know if it was him.” She said quietly, hand automatically going to her stomach to rub it gently. “…I think it might not have been my imagination after all.”

It took him a moment to realize what she was referring to— the scent of his body spray she’d smelled earlier. He might have been inclined to dismiss it, but the way she’d reacted to the scent and the nurse appearing with the food and note right afterward were not something he could easily dismiss as a coincidence. Grieving or not, Natasha had some of the best instincts of any agent he’d ever seen. That coupled with the note was enough to give him pause. He’d seen plenty of insanity in his time at SHIELD. A husband and soon-to-be father reaching out to his wife in her time of need was far from the craziest on the list. Yet still, he was a pragmatist first and found himself skeptical.

“You think it was… what? His ghost?”

She said nothing for stretch. Then: “Remember that movie that came out a few years ago about that girl in a coma having an out of body experience? I think that’s what's happening.”

Now that was a far more plausible theory than the ghost of Bruce Banner running himself ragged around the hospital. There had been documents of Doctors experiencing such a phenomenon. Combined with the new knowledge of Bruce’s several forms and it made more sense that his piece of their collective consciousness would remain with his wife. It sounded like a bunch of mumbo jumbo to him still, but at the very least it was a logical conclusion to make given the fact that Bruce was likely still being operated on.

“So… What are you going to do with that?” He deliberately kept his tone neutral. For as much as he rejected magic as nonsense in spite of having experience with it in the field, he wasn’t going to be the one to take her hope away when it was so desperately needed.

She looked at him. “I need a favor.”

He didn’t hesitate. “Name it.”

“A phone call.”

He pulled his cell phone out of his coat pocket. “Who to?”

“Strange."

Fury felt his eyebrows shoot up in surprise. “As in Stephen Strange, the Sorcerer Supreme?”

She nodded. “If anyone is going to be able to tell me if this is all in my head or not, it’s him. Because if Bruce is trying to talk to me from… well, wherever he is… There’s a reason. I want to know what it is. And even if it’s just wishful thinking… It’s better to know for certain.”

Fury hadn’t been able to argue with that logic. Moreover: He didn’t want to argue with a pregnant assassin whom he was sure could still take him out in 100 different ways in spite of her current condition. It was a logical argument to make, not driven by emotion but by a need for certainty no matter what the result, and while he knew she may not like the answer she got, she deserved one nonetheless. And so, he’d dialed the number on his phone, and waited.

On the fourth ring, Stephen Strange picked up. “This had better be important, Fury. I just got home.” Came the usual arrogant tone of the sorcerer. Natasha held out her hand for the phone, and Nick Fury gave it to her without a second thought.

“You have five minutes to get to Tisch Hospital’s ER waiting room or you’re going to spend the rest of your life wondering if the next meal you eat will be your last.” Her old tone had shone through in the threat, and for some reason it made Fury want to smile.

“Romanoff…? Was that a threat?”

“That’s a promise. There’s a difference.” She said. “Five minutes.”

“…Five minutes.” Stephen grumbled, clearly displeased but intrigued all the same at what could have warranted such a call from the usually unshakeable Black Widow.

Natasha hung up the phone without a goodbye and handed it back to Fury, who took it and looked impressed.

“Remind me to call you next time I need Stark to move his ass. I’ll pay you overtime for that.”

The ghost of a smile hinted at her face as she looked at him. “I’ll do that one for free.”

And, for a moment, there was hope in the waiting room.

Chapter Text

The five minute wait for Stephen Strange stretched endlessly for Natasha, who gripped the armrests of her chair with perfectly manicured fingers in anticipation. Nick Fury sat beside her, looking far less perturbed, but if one looked closely there was a tenseness in his shoulders that betrayed a sense of unease. Whether that was from the dread of what may be uncovered from Strange’s help or the actual assistance of the Sorcerer Supreme himself, one couldn’t say. But as a portal opened precisely five minutes later, Fury’s stomach coiled with dread either way as Natasha sat up, finally seeming alert instead of looking as though life had defeated her.

Through the swirling portal a short distance away, Stephen Strange stepped through in Grandeur, floating through for just a moment as he lowered himself to the ground, shockingly clad in civilian clothes for once instead of his usual attire. Only his gloves remained as he came through it in black dress pants, a pressed dress shirt, and Italian loafers. Fury raised a brow at his choice in attire before realizing it was likely a deliberate choice in order to not draw attention. A most unusual choice for the Doctor, but one he understood nonetheless.

As Stephen glanced around the room he spied the Director and his signature trench coat, going toward the little alcove of chairs that separated that part of the waiting room from the main hallway. When he caught sight of Natasha, however, he stopped dead in his tracks, a rare look of surprise crossing his face as he took in the sight of her clad in a satin pink floral maxi dress and sandals, hair, makeup, and nails done, all while supporting a clearly pregnant stomach that could not have been faked in any capacity as he saw her dress visibly shift as tiny feet kicked her.

“Stephen. Thanks for coming.” She said, and relished in the small moment of pleasure she was able to take in managing to catch the usually arrogant Sorcerer off guard.

His surprise lasted only a moment longer before his composure snapped back into place like a rubber band stretched too thin. “Right, of course…” He said, and shook off his surprise. “What exactly is it that I’m doing here?”

“Bruce was in a plane crash.” She said bluntly.

“Banner?”

“Mhm. These are his, and they’re due in a month.”

“They?” He stuttered.

“Twins.” She said, and gave him a moment to process that bombshell before she continued on. “I think he’s still here.”

It took Stephen a moment to recover from that bombshell, but when he did, his gaze grew more focused. “You think he’s here spiritually?”

“He left me this. Just before a nurse gave it to me, I smelled his body spray.” She said, and handed him the note Bruce had left her. He studied it for a long moment, considering the implication. It wasn’t impossible, what she was describing, but he knew well how many forms grief could take. Especially to someone in such a vulnerable state. And yet for all of his dismissals in that way, he knew better than to discount her instincts when they were better than most. Aside from that: He didn’t believe in coincidences. And a note like that being given to her after smelling something so distinctive to her personally was too much of one to count as something that just happened.

After a moment, Stephen looked up at her. “What precisely do you want from me?”

“To see if he is here… If he is, there’s a reason. And whatever it is, it’s important enough that he’s trying to get my attention. If it’s wishful thinking on my part, that’s fine. But I don’t want to have to keep going on not knowing when I’m already doing that with his life.”

It was, he had to admit, a salient point. Bruce Banner was too smart to do things without reason. And so, Stephen sighed. “Very well. Though it’s likely better if we go somewhere private to do this.”

“Leave that to me.” She said. “Help me up, will you?” She said, and both Fury and Strange helped her to her feet. “Say nothing and follow me.”

And, not willing to argue with her about it, they followed.

As she strode down the corridor as fast as her body was able, a voice caught her attention.

“Natasha!”

She barely managed to hold back a full body cringe at the sound of the familiar voice that grated on her consciousness like nails on a chalkboard, flashing Fury and Strange a look that screamed say nothing, before she turned around with a beatific smile.

“Christine.” She said, voice sweet as poisoned sugar.

The blonde woman clad in a cashmere sweater and leggings scurried toward her, smile too wide to be real as her Louboutin boots clicked on the tile. “I’ve been trying to get a hold of you all morning. Josie Daniels called me and she is out with the flu and won’t be able to help plan the fundraiser for the trip for Doctors Without Borders. Would you mind stepping in to take her place? Your eye for detail is positively exquisite.”

Inwardly, Natasha cursed like a sailor at having to deal with this woman now of all times, but on the outside, her face remained smooth and pleasant.

“I’m flattered that you would think to ask but I’m afraid this isn’t a good time.”

Christine’s face fell a little. “Oh that’s too bad… I was going to ask John if he could give your husband extra paternity leave in return for your help.”

The fact that she was trying to use time with their children as leverage for this was not lost on Natasha, but she kept her face as composed as possible. “I assure you, that will be entirely unnecessary.”

Because if Bruce makes it out of this alive he’s going to need longer than any paternity leave offers to heal. She thought to herself.

“Well, if you’d rather your husband not have more time with his children, I can’t say I understand it personally. But I’ll respect your decision either way.” She said in a voice that was too calm and agreeable. The subtle jab was enough to make her decide to strike a blow of her own.

“I’m more concerned that he’ll be unable to meet them after being in a plane crash on the way to a conference this morning, but thank you for your touching level of concern. If you’ll excuse me, I have specialists I need to consult with and you’re in my way.” She said, and took a moment to look at the way her face looked as though she were sucking a lemon before opening and closing like a floundering fish as Natasha breezed past her and rolled her eyes in annoyance, hearing Stephen and Fury walking behind her and knowing they were likely sharing glances with one another wondering what that was about. For the moment, she ignored their questioning gazes, and made her way over to the nurse’s desk, shifting back to a more vulnerable form. Unlike Christine Kavanaugh, she had no axe to grind with the nurses in the ER who had always treated her with kindness.

It was Stephanie who looked up from a chart and gave her a sympathetic stare. “Mrs. Banner. Anything I can do for you?”

“Any updates yet?”

“No, nothing yet. I know Doctor Jordan and everyone is working incredibly hard to help Doctor Banner.”

“I know they are.” She said, and for once it was entirely true. “I’m feeling a little tired and I have some specialists my husband has worked with to meet with who want to help me. Would it be alright if I went in his office to have someplace to lay down?” She asked softly.

Stephanie nodded. “Of course. Let me just get the key to it from Cecelia’s office and I’ll be right back.”

“Thank you.”

When the nurse had made her way out from behind the desk that lay empty for a moment, Stephen spoke.

“Who was that?”

“Christine Kavanaugh. Her husband John is on the hospital board of directors. She’s been riding his coattails like it gives her power around here ever since.” Natasha said in a voice that was clearly annoyed.

And for once, as a man who believed in having the skill to back up your statements and not relying on the success of others, Stephen Strange entirely understood her annoyance.

“Clout chaser?”

“Big time. And power hungry.”

“Ah.” He said, as though that explained everything. “You must give her a run for her money.”

“Every day of the week.” She said with a small smile, and caught a tiny glimpse of Stephen Strange’s rare approving nod.

Stephanie returned two minutes later with the key, and after thanking her and politely requesting to not be disturbed unless there was an update on his condition, Natasha took it to the small office that had become his ever since he’d started helping with virtual consults for patients, opening the door.

Strange and Fury looked around the room with undisguised curiosity. It was a smaller room, maybe 135 square feet at the most, with a desk, a chair, a computer and phone, a bookshelf, and a sofa that looked to be a pull out. It was mostly utilitarian, with only Banner’s medical degree on the back wall for any sort of hanging decoration, but the things that lined his shelves and desk were a different story. A small elephant sat on his bookshelf, a reminder of his time in India that managed to travel back to the States with him. Atop the shelf was a photo of Bruce with some of the children he’d treated there at the orphanage, and a photo of him shaking the hand of a doctor he’d worked with there that had meant a lot to him.

On the desk there were only two photos and a coffee mug full of pens that Fury walked by as Natasha made herself comfortable on the couch and Stephen scanned the room. One was an older photo of a young boy no older than six standing with a woman with brown curly hair and green eyes and a bright smile. The other was a photograph of himself and Natasha in what was clearly a formal portrait. Natasha’s hair had been pulled into a relaxed updo, a small hint of shimmer in her hair with a black beaded comb being carefully inserted into it that matched the top of what had to be a glittering black gown beneath her, a hand sporting both of the rings he’d seen earlier resting on Bruce’s chest as they both sported extremely rare smiles. Bruce himself wore a black suit and tie, the only hint of color a red handkerchief that was folded up into a pocket square. There was no doubt in his mind that it was a wedding portrait, and It was the happiest he had ever seen either of them look, and somehow served to cement the reality of what was happening to her in a way that made him uncomfortable.

When he looked up again, he saw Stephen staring at Natasha intently.

“You’re sure you want me to do this?” He asked quietly, a rarely heard sincerity in his tone.

She looked up at him, unfazed by the question. “I need to know, regardless of how much I may not like the answer.” She said.

And, able to rest easier now that his offer had been made and declined, Stephen had nodded.

“Shut your eyes, and focus on your memories of him.” 

And for once not asking any questions of him, she obeyed.

“I’m going to put my hands on your stomach to help him find something to latch onto if he is there, alright?” He asked, and waited for her nod before he did so, shutting his eyes and chanting quietly as Fury took a seat behind Bruce’s desk, watching with a combination of skepticism and intrigue.

Stephen’s hands became encased in a soft golden glow, a homing beacon of sorts for Bruce’s essence to find, as he tried to focus on him, his consciousness searching for traces of the scientist. He cleared his mind of everything but what he knew about the man, thinking of objects in his office, of the way Natasha waited for him, of the two small lives waiting to meet him.

And then, in a faint whisper in his ear, he heard a whisper.

Help me…

The words made Stephen straighten his spine. “Banner…?” He said and practically felt the way Natasha’s heart leapt when he said his name.

Stephen… Help me…

“He’s here… It’s not your imagination.” Stephen said and felt the tension bleed out of her without even having to open his eyes. “I don’t—“ He started but before he could finish he found his left glove glowing brighter- enough to notice the change and open them in suprise. “What the—“

A beam of golden light shot out from his glove against his will, a large blotch of light forming in the middle of the room, suddenly shaping into a human form. Fury watched with both eyebrows raised, somewhere between surprised and baffled as the light blob took shape in the form of Bruce Banner, holding two brilliantly bright balls of light in his arms as Stephen Strange regarded him in awe.

“Natasha…” Stephen said softly.

At his quiet call of her name, her eyes snapped open and the instant she saw him, her body seemed to sag in relief. “Bruce…” She said in relief and glanced at Stephen. “Can you… make him audible?”

“One second.” He said, and while he did that, her eyes locked in on the two balls of light in his arms. It took a moment, maybe two, for her to realize what they were.

“Are those…?” She started, sounding awed as Bruce smiled at her and nodded, and her hand automatically went to her stomach as she realized the souls of their unborn children were literally in his hands.

“They’re beautiful.” The voice of Bruce Banner reverberated through the room like a speaker at a concert.

Natasha wasn’t sure if she wanted to laugh or cry. Both seemed like a good option, but not right then. “And they’re okay right?” She asked, as Stephen grunted beside her in an attempt to hold the projection.

“They’re okay. But the reaper is coming.”

“The…” It took a second for it to click with what he meant. The grim reaper. The personification of death itself. She swallowed hard. “It’s… coming for you?”

“Or them… I don’t know. The others have been helping me hide them.”

That brought her a slim amount of relief to know that he wasn’t fighting this alone at least. “What do you need?”

“Watch the DVD in my desk drawer.” He instructed, before Stephen gasped as the connection was suddenly severed and the golden specter of Bruce Banner vanished in a wisp of smoke.

Much as Natasha might have wanted to yell at him to bring him back there, she saw the toll that level of Exertion had had on Stephen, and decided to give him the mercy of a break as she immediately went to his desk, and Fury had wheeled himself out of her way, getting up and standing to the side to see what became of this request of his.

Natasha began to search through the file drawers in his desk and stopped at the second drawer on the left when she saw a DVD with a sticky note on it that had his handwriting on it. She picked it up as though it were a sacred idol, firing up his computer and waited until it turned on to click into guest mode, which was all she needed at the moment to play the DVD.

Fury might have thought to ask if she was sure she wanted to see what was on it, but immediately he nixed the idea. He saw the set of her jaw and the determination in her gaze to find answers, and knew that she wouldn’t stop until she found what she was looking for whether it was wise or just plain stupid to do so. But if it held even the smallest chance of saving Banner and helping the children inside of her, he knew better than to think he could stand in her way.

He simply watched as She took the DVD from it’s jeweled case, inserted it into the disc drive, and waited, wondering what it had to say that mattered so much that Bruce had gone so far as to ask her to watch it in a moment of clear danger.

She couldn’t help gasping a little bit as his face finally filled her screen, and then she listened as he started talking.

Chapter Text

Natasha watched the screen, her heart in her throat, as Bruce’s face filled the screen. He was healthy, smiling, and as bright as she remembered. Seeing it now was a relief as she listened to his voice.

“Hey honey. If you’re watching this, it means something’s happened to me and I can’t be with you right now. So I’m making this video so you have everything you need to know, and a plan. First thing’s first: I know you’re sitting there clenching your jaw because you’re stressed out about all of this. Unclench your jaw, and take a deep breath. We’re still doing this together no matter where I am.”

She’d huffed at his knowledge of her, unclenching her jaw and taking a deep breath, blowing it out. “Asshole.” She muttered fondly but continued paying attention.

“I made you this in case you ever needed a guide for what to do to take care of the kids or yourself. They and I share one thing: Gamma Radiation. So if you’re worried about something happening to them, being around it will help them grow stronger. They should absorb the radiation so that it doesn’t effect you, apart from maybe helping with some of your fatigue and exhaustion. Because they demand more of you, it will help you feel better when they’re stronger.

Some of the extra hours I’ve been putting in at work have been dedicated to researching how the Gamma Radiation might effect them in the future. I left a USB drive of my notes with Helen Cho, so even if I’m not there with you for whatever reason, you’ll have every bit of my research to help you meet their needs. The other hulks have been collaborating with me to make sure you have a list of their needs in whatever form they might end up taking. Most of it is stuff you would have assumed, like more food, more sleep, that kind of thing. But there are some things in there that might surprise you.

I know it’s a lot to take in. I know this isn’t what we planned. But I know you can do this. In a file folder in a USB drive I left in the second left drawer of the home office in Cape Cod. I recorded messages for you and for the kids in case something happened to me. I know there are a million questions you probably have, and I’ve done my best to answer them here and in that flash drive at home if you need me. I’m sorry it didn’t go the way we planned it, but that’s why I made this for you. To make sure you have the tools and the knowledge you need to give our children a great life whether I’m here or not.

I know you’re scared, even if you won’t say it. And it’s okay to be. There’s no manual on how to raise two super powered kids and grieve a loss you couldn’t have anticipated. There’s also not one on how to deal with a hospitalized partner either. But my ER staff have copies of our birth plan, so even if I’m not there to help you through it, they can and will. I know you’re going to want to be left alone because this isn’t something you or anyone knows how to deal with. But you need to be okay with asking for help from people you trust right now. You shouldn’t have to take that on by yourself. Call Steve, call Clint, call your sister, call somebody you can trust to help you through this.

I love you. Always have, always will. And I will do everything I can to come back to all of you in one piece. And if for any reason I don’t, I need you to know that I don’t have any regrets about my life. Not even The Hulk. If there hadn't been him, there wouldn’t have been you. And you were worth all of it. All the struggle, all the heartache, all the loneliness… It was worth it to have the time I had with you and to even have the chance to have five minutes with our babies. I love you, and I’ll always find a way to be with you, even if I’m gone. I’ll always be there when you need me.” He promised. “I don’t want you to think about me and only remember the way it ended. I want you to remember all of this, because that’s what I’ll always remember.”

He said, and a video began to play before her eyes, of camera footage taken either from his phone or from JARVIS’ cameras as snippets of their lives began to play on the screen. Both of them sharing a laugh in his lab, the two of them dancing in the middle of his apartment, both of them goofing off together in the middle of a Quinjet flight, a video of their hands entwined together.

She watched, breathless, as the moments grew more intimate. The pair of them grinning at the camera when on a small vacation, Bruce’s voice narrating how he got to see his favorite thing every morning as she brushed her hair at her vanity, her showing off her engagement ring to the camera with a smile, and a video she didn’t know had been taken as they danced at their wedding, Shania Twain crooning over the speakers as From This Moment On played as the two of them danced closely in that beautiful Bordeaux vineyard that had seemingly belonged only to them. A video of his overjoyed reaction at finding out she was pregnant came just after that as she laughed when he spun her around, along with ultrasound videos she herself had taken, and videos of her early pregnancy as he complimented how beautiful and glowing she was, before it switched to a video she’d taken of him talking to their unborn children with the solemn promise of giving them every possible thing he could, and always loving their mother, before the screen went black.

The silence that followed was deafening as both Fury and Stephen’s heads had swiveled toward Natasha, who had tears rolling down her face as she stared at her reflection in the blank screen. Neither of them dared interrupt such an intimate moment. Not unless they wanted to get hit, and neither of them did. They waited in silence for her to scream or yell or give them some sort of instruction, and watched as her face grew contemplative.

“Stephen…?” She asked in a soft whisper that somehow seemed to shatter the room.

“Yes?”

“If… If gamma radiation is what they need is it… Is it what he’s missing?” She asked slowly.

Stephen Strange’s eyes widened at the statement. “That’s… possible.” He said slowly. “It would have to be a specific dose… too much would cause him to become the Hulk.”

“Would Cho know the dose he would need?”

“Possibly.”

“You think he’s still listening?” Natasha asked.

“I can’t see why not after he went to such lengths to communicate with you.” He admitted.

Natasha stared at the blank screen as though it held all the answers in her life. “Tell me somehow if this is what you need. I’m listening.” She promised.

There was a moment of total silence, before the overhead PA system suddenly switched from making announcements of doctors needed in different places to the gentle crooning of Randy Travis promising to love someone forever. She recognized that song. It was one he’d played for her the night of their engagement, and somehow it gave her the answer she needed.

“Call Cho and figure out the dosage he might need.” She said, and both Fury and Strange nodded, going out of the office for a moment to figure it out and not-so-subtly give her a moment alone for herself after that emotional roller coaster.

Feeling restless, she moved away from the desk and waddled to the window, watching the cars pass by on the street below. In the distance, she could see the trees that outlined Bryant Park, and let a memory sweep her far away from where she was, back to a few Decembers ago when a single night of magic had changed everything for her.

The knock had come at her apartment door at 7 at night. She raised an eyebrow, surprised as she went to answer it, clad in a red sweater and black leggings, surprised to see Bruce there.

“Hey.” He said.

“Got a reason to be here this late or did you just want an excuse to see me?” She teased playfully.

“Little bit of both actually.” He admitted shyly, reaching into the pocket of the peacoat he’d donned and pulling out a long black velvet box. “I’m your secret Santa for this year, but I figured opening presents in front of everybody wasn’t really your style.”

Her eyebrows raised in pleasant surprise. “Good assumption.” She said. “Come in.”

He came in, stopping at the front of the foyer to offer her the long black velvet box that she opened curiously. Her eyes blew open wide when she saw a diamond tennis bracelet inside, with a small notch on the clasp.

“Bruce… This is… It’s beautiful…” She stammered, stunned.

“I made it myself.”

“You made this?” She asked and looked at him.

“I grew the diamonds in the lab myself. That little notch on the clasp releases knockout gas when you pull it out. I figured it might come in handy if you ever needed a quick getaway or a weapon that was subtle and didn’t need to be carried."

Her eyes lit up in surprised delight that she couldn’t manage to conceal, no matter how much she might have tried. “That’s… incredibly thoughtful. Thank you.” She said, and kissed his cheek to his pink blush.

“There’s one more piece of your present but it isn’t here.” He admitted, and her curiosity got the better of her as he put the bracelet on her wrist.

“Alright… Let me get my coat.” She said, and donned a pair of knee high boots, and a long black woolen trench coat with a scarf and gloves to match.

The pair of them had ventured out into the frigid New York night, walking side by side as a gentle snowfall came down upon them.

“It isn’t too long of a walk is it? I forgot a hat.”

“No, not long.” He promised, as the two of them crossed the street to enter Bryant Park, aglow  with the shine of the street lamps that lined it’s walkways. “Can I get you some coffee?” He asked as they approached the Joe’s Coffee Company kiosk in the park.

“Sure. Sounds like a good idea.” She said, and had thanked him when the cup of black coffee had warmed her gloved hands, steam billowing out from the lid and tickling her nose with it’s deliciously fragrant bitterness.

She’d taken a sip after a few minutes of quiet walking, passing the European style marketplace that went up every holiday season. “You’re not dragging me there to go ice skating are you?”

He chuckled and shook his head. “Nope. Not our stop.”

She raised a brow at that but said nothing else as she tried to figure out where on earth he was taking her. It was only when they’d turned a corner at a fork in the pathway that she’d seen the black carriage sitting there, with two white horses, a blanket, and a driver sitting ready to go. It was enough to make her eyebrows shoot up in surprise.

“Here we are.” He said, and moved to slip the driver a bill before climbing up into the carriage and offering her a hand to climb inside. Still dazed with surprise, she took it.

“A horse drawn carriage ride? That’s my present?” She asked, as he’d grabbed a blanket and draped it over them both, warming them almost instantly as the carriage took off through the park with the clopping of horse’s hooves on the concrete.

“When we had movie night and watched Snow White you mentioned that when you were a little girl you used to dream about a prince coming to rescue you and carrying you off on a horse to a happy ending. I figure you’ve probably saved enough lives to have at least one childhood dream come true.”

She wanted to be sarcastic and ask if he was supposed to be the prince in this scenario, but the fact that he’d remembered an offhand comment that she’d thought no one had heard was enough to strike her in such a way that she’d let her guard down enough to give way to a sincere question.

“You remembered that?”

“It was important to you.”

She took in a sharp breath. Something about the way he’d said it made her feel seen in a way she wasn’t used to feeling. It kept her off balance, trying to grapple with these gestures of kindness that were so uncommon for her as the horses trodded along on the path. The clopping of their hooves was the only sound for a while. After a few quiet moments, she spoke again.

“Why me?” She asked.

“Hm?”

“Why go through all of this trouble for me? You could have gotten me a gift card to a restaurant or new headphones… Instead you got me diamonds, a weapon, coffee, and a carriage ride.”

He was quiet for a moment, feeling the weight of the knowledge that his words would be remembered for a long time afterward.

“Because happy endings don’t usually find people like us. They have to be made. I’d like to be able to say I had a hand in making one for you, after all the sacrifices you made for others.”

She stared at him for a long moment, trying to process his words. “You make me sound like some kind of hero.” She said quietly.

“You are though, aren't you? You left behind your country, your family, your friends, all to come to this country and turn your pain into purpose by using your skills to help protect people. Sounds pretty heroic to me.”

She swallowed hard around the lump in her throat. “I’ve done terrible things… things you can’t even fathom… and You… You still talk about me like that.”

“I’m no saint either.” He reminded. “The damage I've caused, lives I’ve jeopardized…"

“That’s different. You aren’t in control of what the Hulk does. You do everything you can to atone for his actions.”

“And you do everything you can to atone for yours.” He said, and the salient point rendered her silent. “I think that’s why we work… We hold up a mirror to see the good in one another instead of seeing only the bad pieces of ourselves. It’s a gift.”

She swallowed the lump in her throat. “It is.” Were the only two words that she managed to get out and she took a drink of coffee as an excuse to have a moment to compose herself. When she did, she spoke again. “So… if you think we work should I count that as a confession that you like me?” She said, attempting her normal teasing playfulness.

“I would have thought the bracelet said it better.” He admitted, and something about it softened her.

“Dammit, you’re right about that.” She said. “Are you sure this is what you want…? I’m… A lot.”

“So am I. But you’ve never let it stop you before. You never saw me as a monster, and I never saw you as a weapon.”

Something about the truth in those words was enough to make her speechless. It underscored to her that he didn’t look at her and see a past or ability or potential. He just saw her. The woman underneath the catsuit that still had dreams and likes and hopes and fears just like everyone else.

“You… see me.” It was a revelation, but he’d nodded as though it were simple fact.

“And I like what I see.”

The words made her heart skip a beat, and suddenly, she didn’t bother with decorum as she pulled him into a passionate kiss that surprised and delighted them both in equal measure. When she’d pulled back for air, she saw the unabashed giddy joy in his smile.

“Wow.”

She smirked at that and took another drink of coffee.

After a few minutes, he spoke again. “So… does this count as a date?”

She smiled. “It’s a date.”

The sound of the office door opening and closing snapped her back to the present, and she turned to see Fury standing there, putting his phone back in his pocket.

“Cho is on her way.”

“Okay.” She nodded, and took one last glance out the window before she went to go and meet up with the doctor who just might hold the answers to saving her Husband’s life.

Chapter Text

The transition from into my body to out of it is a seamless one. With only a soft pop! I am standing next to the team of coworkers working over a shell of a body that’s mine. When I look down, a golden belt is around me, with five threads emanating form it, connecting me to the others who no longer have a body. War, World, The Hulk, Joe Fixit, and Devil Hulk all stand there with me for once. It is the first time we have ever been able to face one another in this in between. Not quite alive, not quite dead. As they murmur to one another, I drift, somewhere between walking and floating as I go through the OR doors in search of my wife.

I walk, a specter unseen by coworkers and strangers alike. The invisibility helps me breathe. The light of my tether to the others stretches, not taut, but a bungee cord that will stretch with me and snap me back if I am needed. I know the others are talking about how to get back into the body we all share in the back of my mind, but I don’t pay it any mind as I search for my other half. The woman who made my darkest days brighter with her understanding, lack of judgement, and laughter.

I catch sight of her in the waiting room, still as a statue. And yet… Something is different. Instead of her rounded stomach looking as it normally does, I see two glowing orbs. I want to know what they are, but approach cautiously. My phantom hands reach out to touch where my children are growing, and instead of going right through, my hands wrap around those two brilliantly shining orbs. Much to my surprise and delight, I find their weight in my arms comforting. And then, after a beat, I understand. These are my children, still in the womb, somehow sharing a plane with me. And because of that, I can hold my babies.

A part of me keeps tabs on the way that the hulks have stopped talking, as if in acknowledgement of this revelation. But the joy I feel overrides everything else. I can see their little features in the brilliant light of them. The nose of my wife, the shape of my eyes, the fiery red of her hair, some curls that remind me so much of my mother it makes me ache with longing to see her. Beautiful, unique, and ours. Perfect mixtures of the two of us that will soon be alive and walking the earth, with their own problems and challenges but with hopes and dreams and people to love them all the same.

I sense the hulks gathering behind me, and I turn to face them. For once, they are not balls of rage or destruction or violence or betrayal. They’re awe and hope and children seeing magic unfold in front of them with wonder as they see these extensions of our blood in my arms. None of us need words in order to understand the beauty in this moment. We sit in silence with each other, in quiet marveling of what creations have somehow befallen us in spite of our respective histories. And suddenly, my view of them shifts. Not to see them as sources of pain or conduits of destruction, but mentors and protectors to those two little souls who will be treated differently by the world, but will show them acceptance and give them their time and patience to help them understand themselves. For the first time, I feel a silent bond with them. The shared knowledge that all of us share the need for their protection easing a long held ball of dread in my gut. We all may have differences and view the world through different lenses, but we are all on the same page with giving these two little souls a safe place to go, and something in it warms me.

The collective pride we all feel builds in my chest as though it wants to burst out of me, and I can’t help but grin as I look down at my children and see the future spin out before me. Nights of Natasha nursing and singing to them, me chasing tiny toddlers around the house, My wife smiling in delight when they accomplish something, me tutoring them with care as we homeschool them until they have gained control of those parts of themselves that they have inherited from the hulks. Graduations, weddings, grandkids… All of it spins out before me in a sudden, instant burst of knowledge for which I have no name. And for a moment, I feel hope fill my chest. The knowledge that even if I screwed up or failed or did things wrong, I must have done something right to have earned a moment like this. When I look back up at the Hulks again, they are smiling at me. A rare group show of approval as we collectively feel the joy involved in being a part of a moment known to no one else. Something beautiful we can treasure together as we see the little faces of the babies in my arms, eyes closed but breathing softly with some feeling I cannot name that makes me want to cry with how fulfilled I feel.

I go to glance up at the hulks when I see it. The hooded figure with a scythe in a tattered cloak, no feet to speak of beneath him. As soon as I look at it, it turns to me, a skeleton with the flesh melted off of it’s face and no eyes in it’s sockets. As soon as it looks at me, A flash comes before my eyes of pure darkness, but not the kind that begets nightmares. The sort of darkness one would find closing their eyes going swimming in a heated pool. Warm, comforting, not scary. Yet still, the heart still beating in a body that I can’t fit into skips a beat and I automatically back away to shield my children from its gaze.

Those blank eye sockets bore into me for a long moment, and then the specter floats past. I exhale with no relief tied to the action as I realize what just passed me by. The grim reaper. The personification of death itself. I feel a cold knot of dread ball inside of me as the pieces click into place. The reaper saw me. Saw them. And suddenly, my mission is clear: To get back into my body as fast as I can. I know the others are watching me, coming to the same realization I have already drawn. But it suddenly makes no difference. I can sense the determination emanating from all of them without us ever having to open our mouths to speak. I see it in their gazes, their determination to save these babies, to save me. Their determination makes sense. We all share a single body, and if I go so do they. But even with that knowledge, there is a protectiveness radiating from them that gives me hope.

I go off in search of my wife, my tether to them dragging them along with me until I find her at last, and look at them. I don’t need words to beg them to help me reach her. They know. They surround me in a circle, massive arms linked together as I concentrate as hard as I can.

Feel me.

I see the exact moment when my wife takes notice of me, when her head whips around to see me and the Director asks her what is it. When I hear her say it’s just her mind playing tricks on her, I know it isn’t enough. And that’s when the idea hits me, and I go and find Judy. My phantom hand gently touches her shoulder as I concentrate as hard as I can to reach her. When she suddenly takes direction toward the hospital cafeteria, I know it worked. I don’t have time to celebrate the small victory as I see the cloaked specter roving the hospital halls once more, and suddenly I’m running. My mind flashes back to the time Tony had us watch Dodgeball for movie night, and the advice of Dodge, Dip, Duck, Dive, and Dodge suddenly has new meaning to me in this light.

This phantom form doesn’t wear out, but I know I can’t run forever. I have to get back into my body. I have to help my wife. I have to save our children. The goals repeat over and over in my mind as I go into different wards, storage closets, offices- anywhere I can to try and hide. The only place I cannot go is outside. When I tried to go through that metal exit door, my tether snapped me back to land with the other hulks in a heap.

Lesson learned: No going outside.

There are a few other people who can see me, all of whom are also outside of their bodies. Their mouths drop open in awe when they see the hulks tethered to my belt, but they take heed of my warning when those four words come out of my mouth: The reaper is coming. And suddenly, they all hide too.

When I get moments to breathe, I focus on my children— still cradled safely in my arms for now. I find that when I really concentrate hard enough I can hear their heartbeats, and the muffled voice of my wife, asking for Stephen Strange. The words make hope blossom in my chest, because if there’s a chance of anyone hearing me, it’s him. A part of my mind can feel it when my wife enters my office without me ever having thought about it. That space where I spend so much of my time helping other calls to me like a beacon, and I race from my spot in the maternity ward storage closet to get to my wife.

When I pass through the door, I see her sitting on the couch, Stephen’s hands going toward her stomach. I have nothing to lose.

“Help me.” I say, and hope to be heard.

“Banner?” He says, and hope pummels through my chest.

“Stephen, help me!” I say.

He goes to say something to my wife, but it isn’t enough for me. The danger is real, and I need help now. The other hulks come into the room, each gripping my wrist as I reach for Stephen’s with my ghostly hands, only thinking about how I have to see her. Then suddenly, a beam of light shoots forth from Stephen’s gloved hand, and I can tell it’s working. Stephen calls for my wife and when I see her open her eyes and can tell she sees me, relief cracks open inside of my chest.

“Are those…?” She starts, and I nod to her proudly.

“They’re beautiful.” I say, and for the first time I can hear my own voice.

“And they’re okay right?” She asks, and it makes my heart sink.

“They’re okay. But the reaper is coming.” I say, and hate the truth in those words.

“The…” She starts, and I see the moment she realizes what I mean. “It’s… coming for you?”

“Or them… I don’t know. The others have been helping me hide them.” I say, and can see all of the Hulks puffing out their chests proudly at helping to distract the reaper himself.

“What do you need?” She asks, and I think as quickly as I can of what I can give her to help. There’s only one right answer.

“Watch the DVD in my desk drawer.” I say, before the Devil Hulk tackles me to the side and into a closet just as The Reaper peers through the window. I breathe raggedly for a few minutes, trying to calm myself down, and briefly wonder if I can get a message to Stephen again, but when I go back into my office, I see Natasha at my desk watching the message I left for her just in case, and it twists something deep inside of my gut to know that doing this to her was a necessary evil.

When she asks Stephen through tears if I might need Gamma Radiation too to help save me like the kids, I almost want to cheer. It’s her voice speaking to me that focuses me again.

“Tell me somehow if this is what you need. I’m listening.”

And I think for a moment before The Hulk wordlessly lifts me up to touch the speaker in my office that is usually reserved for the PA system, and the song “Forever and Ever, Amen” Begins playing on the speakers. I can’t help but try and remind her of how much I love her, tell her how much I want to be home with her… And then, when She, The Director, and Stephen spring into action, I allow myself a moment to breathe and to hope. Just a little longer… a little while more of playing keep away with our babies until they and I get the help we need.

I sit down at the chair at my desk, all of the hulks forming a wall of muscle around me as I take a moment to breathe. I stare at the faces of the tiny souls in my arms, unable to believe that this is my life right now and yet forced to by circumstance. The warm oozy blackness in the reaper’s eyes was a tempting sort of peacefulness, a graceful float down to a state of nonexistence, but the absolute joy in seeing those little faces beats it by a mile. And suddenly, I’m grateful. I’m glad all of these hulks that I once thought were the cause of the ruin of my life are here. If they hadn’t helped to heal me, I wouldn’t be here They kept me alive long enough to see this.

Time means nothing to me in the in between, and I dimly await seeing my wife again but know nothing is happening yet. I can feel my wife’s impatience like some like it’s an extension of myself, and for just a moment, I can pretend everything is normal. But then, I feel something off. Nothing that I can place. I know my wife is waiting, I see my children still in my arms. And then… I sense a different presence in the room that makes every hulk stiffen.

That never happens. They are unshakable, unstoppable forces of nature. I wonder what the cause of it is, and dimly am aware of the office door opening to Natasha and Stephen again with some slim part of my consciousness, before I hear a voice call my name.

“Bruce…?”

My nonexistent skips a beat. I know that voice with every fiber of my being. The voice that soothed my nightmares and haunted them in equal measure. The voice of unconditional love that never once looked at me with anything less than love and acceptance. I stand up and the hulks surrounding me part in unison, revealing a woman with curly brown hair, green eyes, in a tunic top and pants.

“Mom…?”

Chapter Text

Natasha waited impatiently by the doors of the ER for the arrival of Helen Cho, outwardly calm and collected were it not for the tapping of her foot. The desperate need for action gnawed at her consciousness and made her fist clench into her dress. The knowledge that Bruce was in danger, that their children were by extension, grated on her already thin patience. Every time those doors wooshed open, they sparked hope, and every time a doctor or nurse or other patient or relative walked in, they took it with them.

Nick Fury stood beside her, keeping his single eye fixed on the woman beside him. He saw the agitation of the woman beside him even if she did not show it, and kept silent vigil for her and the two children in her womb, even if it was not anything directly shown in his actions. He wasn’t particularly well versed in emotion, but lives being in jeopardy was something he understood well. And with four of them now at stake, he did what he knew best: Kept an eye on the brewing situation, ready to respond at a moment’s notice.

Only Stephen Strange was comfortable enough to sit down in one of the waiting room chairs, mind reeling with possibilities of what was going on in the realm beyond what the physical eye could comprehend. Banner was a doctor, a scientist, a man of logic. Certainly, he had his anger issues, but they never interfered with his ability to comprehend a situation’s facts. If he said the reaper was coming, than there was credibility in that. The question was what, if anything, could be done about it? Death wasn’t a target to be struck down. It came for rich and poor, young and old, smart and dumb alike. The only great equalizer of man. If death was coming for Banner, he could perhaps outlast it with the help of the other Hulks, but couldn’t outrun it forever. 

He saw the worry in Natasha, a usually calm and calculated force to be reckoned with, in the way her hand never left her stomach and the other gripped at her dress. The tautness of her frame was that of someone on high alert. It couldn’t be good for the children. Not at all. He wasn’t one who gave freely of feelings like pity, but for her he had some. He’d felt the desperation in Banner to get back to his family like a man drowning in search of air. He had seen those rare tears fall down Natasha’s face as she tried to reconcile with a DVD of the last moments of her husband alive that he’d tried to give her for a semblance of peace, just as their lives were about to begin together. And while he was a pragmatist at heart, even he could not deny the unfairness of such a situation- A life potentially stolen from this world before two more entered it. It sounded like some lame stoner hippie trying to explain why the universe needed balance. 

The entrance of Helen Cho was not hailed by trumpets but by sighs of relief. As soon as the Doctor had caught sight of Natasha, her jaw involuntarily unhinged itself from her jaw. When Fury had called saying that Banner was critical and she needed to bring the USB drive he’d left in her care, the director of SHIELD had failed to mention anything about the black widow being pregnant. It didn’t take long for her to realize that if she was here at the same time as he was, then there was only one person that could have fathered that baby, and the ensuing horror was nearly enough to make her gasp. But, after a moment, she pulled herself together and went straight to the Director, depositing the small USB drive into Nick Fury’s hand.

“That’s everything he gave me to hold onto.”

“Good.” He nodded. “I’ll have Hill review this. In the meantime, we’re pretty sure Banner needs a dose of Gamma radiation. Not enough to transform him but enough to speed up the healing process.”

Cho processed that for a moment. Then: “I’ll see what I can do.”

“His operator is Doctor Matthew Jordan. They’re coworkers.” Natasha said. “Just present yourself as his primary care physician and it should be fine."

And, certainly unwilling to argue with that assessment, Cho nodded. “I’ll do my best.” She promised, and followed the directional signs to the OR with determination.

For a moment, the silence that overcame those awaiting news on the doctor was oppressive. Natasha felt hope and dread in her chest swing back and forth like a pendulum at the knowledge that Cho was there to help him but that it might not be soon enough. The idea that he could leave her and their children behind was more devastating than she knew how to say. And the only solution that came to mind was the simplest one.

She looked at Stephen who seemed to notice her attention and snapped back to look at her.

“I need to see him again.” She said, hating the depth of her need and the sound of her helplessness more than anything.

For a moment, Stephen Strange warred within himself. He’d done what he had come here to do and had exhausted himself in the process. That should have been it for his professionalism. But a look at Natasha’s face told him this was all personal, whether he liked it or not. It was her personal life hanging by a thread, and the part of him that had gone into medicine to want to end human suffering ached for the difficult position she was in.

“On one condition.” He said finally.

“What?”

“Call somebody to be here with you in case the news isn’t good. He was right in that video about you not doing this alone.”

And, though she was loathed to admit the fact that he was entirely correct on that front, she sucked it up and nodded. “Okay.” She said and wordlessly held out her hand for the Director’s phone, a bit miffed but certainly unopposed to being relieved of emotional support duty, he forked it over, and Natasha scrolled through the impressive amount of contacts until she reached the one that mattered.

She took in a deep breath, and then pressed the name, walking to the corner of the waiting room toward a window, overlooking the city and skyscrapers beneath.

The endless drone of the dial tone nearly drove her to the edge of her sanity, but finally, the familiar voice on the other end of the line picked up.

“This had better be important, Fury. I’m busy.” Came the harshly Russian accented voice of her sister. And for a moment, the normalcy of that sound was almost enough to bring her to her knees with relief.

“I need you.”

“Nat?” A beat passed. “What happened?” Came the sharp tone that always meant somebody was about to incur bodily harm.

“You’ll understand when you get here. I’m at Tisch Hospital in Manhattan, by the Emergency room. Physically unharmed, before you ask.”

For as much as she might have complained about her sister, the thing she loved about Yelena was her sheer lack of hesitation in the face of a problem. “I’ll be there in half an hour.”

Knowing her sister, she’d cut that time in half. “Thank you.” She whispered.

“Are you really okay?”

“Physically.” She promised, and it was the only truthful answer she could give. Yelena would know if she was lying. “Come unarmed. This isn’t a situation where there’s anything to fight.”

Natasha could tell from the silence at the other end of the line that Yelena was in no way pleased with that answer. “Fine.” She grumbled. “See you there.”

“See you soon.” She said, and hung up.

Going back over to Fury and Strange, she handed the cell phone back to the Director before looking at Stephen. “Let’s go.”

And, having no other option seeing as she’d complied with his demand, he got up and the three of them went back toward Bruce’s office.

Upon crossing the threshold, Stephen Strange found himself ensnared by a curious sense of overwhelm that stopped him in his tracks. The office still looked the same- black computer screen, pushed out chair, folded sofa still looking untouched. Which meant that whatever he was feeling was from elsewhere- in particular, from Banner. Natasha had seemed to notice his sudden stop and regarded him sharply.

“What is it?”

“I’m not sure… There’s a sense of overwhelm in this room.”

She studied him for a moment. Unlike Tony Stark, Stephen Strange was not a jokester in any way, shape, or form. If he sensed something she could not then it was in no way something to sneeze at.

“Okay… Then let’s find out why.” She said and sat down on the couch again.

For the briefest moment, Stephen contemplated refusing her as something about the overwhelm in this room felt private. But he wasn’t one to go back on his word, and concentrated again. Now that he had managed to connect with Banner once, it was far easier to connect with him as he put his hands on the sides of Natasha’s stomach to ground himself. When the golden glow began emanating from his hands again, this time he was in complete control of it, and a small orb appeared between himself and Natasha, floating over toward the desk and back again as it circled the room, spewing a gentle golden light in ribbons as easily as Tinkerbell spewed fairy dust.

What the golden exposed stopped them all in their tracks. Every form of hulk stood, lining the way to Bruce’s desk. Bruce’s specter stood, in absolute awe, as a woman with curly brown hair approached him. When Natasha’s eyes opened and she saw what was happening, she realized who it was, and her breath caught in her throat.

“Mom…” Bruce’s whisper reverberated through the room. He quickly passed the balls of light that were his children into The Hulk’s arms, his own wrapping around his mother for the first time since he was seven years old as he was embraced in turn by her. To feel her touch and smell her perfume. For just an instant, he felt like a little boy again.

Rebecca Banner pressed a kiss to her son’s head. “I’ve missed you.”

When he finally pulled away, he was stunned. “What… How are you here…?”

“I’ve been sent to get you. Time to go.” Her gentle voice carried through the room.

“Go…?” He said, not quite fully understanding what she meant.

“It’s your time. But because of the good you have done, I have been allowed to escort you.”

And then, understanding what she meant now, Bruce froze.

His mind whirred for a beat or two at the knowledge of what was happening. And then, slowly: “…No.”

The second she heard that word pass his lips, hope made Natasha’s heart skip several beats.

Rebecca blinked. “…No…?”

Bruce swallowed hard. “I love you, Mom, but… I can’t go with you.”

Rebecca’s expression grew confused. “I don’t understand… You’ve been knocking on that door for years, begging to be let in.”

“I know. But I… I can’t do what you did. I can’t leave them… They need me.”

She looked at him in sympathy. “We don’t always get a choice in when our time is. Heaven knows if we did I would have chosen to stay with you. But that’s the way life goes, never as you planned.”

“But I do… I do have a choice.” He said, as though the words were a revelation. “I can choose to fight. I can choose to remain here in whatever way I can to be with my wife and my children. I can choose to stay for them. I can. I do.”

The look on her face was saddened and proud at the same time. “I understand…” She said, and glanced over at the Hulks. “May I…?”

Bruce nodded, and every one of the Hulks straightened under her scrutiny.

“Such marvelous heroes… You have done such remarkable things to help my son. Thank you for that. Were it not for your efforts, he would have never had the chance to be happy.”

The other Hulks looked at her in disbelief. No one had ever referred to them that way before. Certainly not anyone as important as her.

“We… Help?” Came The Hulk’s unusually uncertain question.

Rebecca smiled at him. “If you had not spat those bullets out, my son would not be fighting to live. You have done well, and will continue to do so.” She said gently.

To the surprise of every human, hulk, and spirit in the room, tears seemed to well in the green giant’s eyes.

“Thank you.”

Rebecca nodded, and looked at the babies in his massive arms. “May I hold them?”

The Hulk nodded, and the two babies were in her arms as she smiled down at them, looking at her son. “How beautiful…”

“They are, aren’t they…?” Bruce said quietly, with a proud smile. “That’s why I can’t go… They need me.”

“Yes, they do.” She said and glanced at the hulks. “And so do they. To see them as more than just a force for destruction, but a force for good. They’re capable of using their abilities to help people as much as you are, but no one has ever given them a chance to build something. Let a legacy for my grandchildren be their gift to you.”

Bruce looked surprised. “You think they can?”

“No one has ever given them a chance. It’s time to see what they can do, Don’t you think?”

Bruce looked at each of their faces, all stunned by the revelation as much as he himself had been. “I do.” He said.

Then, in an unexpected show of unity, every single Hulk took a knee or bowed to Rebecca Banner, grateful for the unexpected show of faith. She merely smiled at them, kissing bowed heads before her gaze turned to Natasha with an unexpected softness that somehow still served to make her straighten her spine.

“Thank you for taking such good care of my son. You have no idea the joy it brings me to know that he isn’t alone anymore.” She said.

Absolutely bewildered by this happening in front of her, but glad to take the compliment nonetheless, she murmured. “You’re welcome…”

“You will be wonderful.” She promised, before going back to Bruce and handing him the two balls of light. “I will distract the reaper. Go back to your body, quickly. All of you.” She said, and kissed her son’s cheek one more time, before she made her way past the door and out of the light. The Hulks all shared a look with Bruce, and they all shared a nod, before Bruce gave Natasha that fond look that she knew meant he’d see her soon. Then, they all phased through the door one by one, until the Golden light faded from Stephen’s gloved hands, and the office was left in quiet again.