When she lay back down, Bruce had turned onto his side facing her and held the covers up so she could slip in beside him.
His warmth drew her in and his familiar smell comforted her. “Sorry, Bruce. I didn’t mean to wake you up.”
“Hey, no problem. Are you okay, Nat? I know this whole thing has to be hard.” He flexed his arms and stretched his neck before settling his head onto his pillow and left forearm. The grace and control of his movement reminded her of felines and dragons again, especially as he yawned.
“Yeah, just some really weird dreams.” Nat traced a woven pattern on the sheet between them with her left index finger.
“That happens when you’re coming off of meds; plus, you’ve had so much forced unconsciousness, that’s probably exacerbating any sleep issues.”
“What about you?”
She could see him smile in the ambient light. He had a nice smile. “With the Gamma, I don’t need to sleep as much as I used to, but when I hit the R.E.M. phase, I can have pretty crazy dreams. I don’t always remember them all, but I have had some conversations with my other selves that I’m pretty sure does happen on some level. Like tonight, Hulk really wanted s’mores while we all had a nice conversation around a fire. I mean, the place might not have been real, but the conversation certainly was.”
Nat chuckled. “You and Banner and Hulk together. What did you talk about?”
“You,” he admitted with a chuckle. “How happy we all felt that you’re back. What I’m worried about. I asked for some help with technical issues and prognostication, too.”
“Sounds cathartic. I’m going to guess you asked Banner about the ‘technical issues’ and not Hulk.”
Although she hardly moved after she fell asleep on Bruce’s chest, Natasha’s dreams weren’t peaceful. She was working a mission with teammates from different decades mashed together at first, several of whom had never met in reality. She was the only common factor connecting some of them. They were assaulting a tower made of dark natural rock that sloped upward steeper and steeper until it disappeared into a ceiling of low-hanging clouds above them. The light was a strange orange-pink like dawn or twilight, she wasn’t sure, and the thick cloud cover made it difficult to locate the sun? This certainly wasn’t Belarus or Kansas, Toto. When she looked down the slope, the situation was much the same with a layer of fog blanketing most of the lower elevations and what look like flooded fens below. If the visibility were better, she was sure there’d be a flaming eye at the top of the climb and a plaque that said, “Welcome to Mordor.”
Clint was beside her as they advanced cautiously up the incline, but he was dressed in a strange black and gold hooded uniform, which she didn’t recognize. His bow and quiver were missing. One of her sisters, an older Widows trained in the Red Room program, was on her left side, firing at something in the fog below with both her handguns. Natasha’s heart came into her throat when she realized the woman was supposed to be long dead a decade or more ago. Natasha knew for certain she had to be dreaming to have plucked a person out of her past.
Shouts and screams and the sound of high-tech weapons’ fire roiled up the foggy slope beneath their position. The ground shuddered, and suddenly Clint grabbed Natasha’s right shoulder and pushed her down flat against the gravely path. A blob of orange energy struck an outcrop just ten yards beyond them, shaking the ground and sending rock chips flying.
“Fuck!” Clint spat and wiped blood out of his eyes that dripped from a small gash on his forehead where a piece of stone had nicked him. As Natasha gave the wound a quick inspection, he touched his comms, “Hey, whatever let loose that fireball way outclasses us. Isn’t it about time for a Code Green?”
There was a roar from far below them followed by the creaking rip and crunch of metal and panicked screams mixed with smaller arms’ fire. “Fast enough for you, Barton?” a deep male voice she didn’t recognize snapped back over the comms. “He was already worried about Romanoff, so get ready.”
Something hit the same rockface just above them, but this time it made a wet thud and the mangled body of an Outrider slid down and landed in a lifeless heap of broken limbs. A S.H.I.E.L.D. Agent on Clint’s right retched and threw up. Nat wondered whom they were fighting and what the objective could be. It had to be Thanos’ army, but why were they ascending the slope to this tower?
Something large bellowed on the path below. It was closer to them than the sound of weapons’ blasts. A dark shape sprang clear from the tendrils of fog and sped toward them on all fours . . . no, sixes? Natasha instantly had her Glocks in hand and sighted them in time to get off a few rounds as the creature closed the gap. Just as she prepared to roll, a blur of purple, gray, and green cut the massive beast off and rocked it backwards on thrashing limbs. She barely had time to recognize Hulk and stop firing before he was on the thing again. He’d landed a double-fisted blow to its lower back and then jerked its head to the side to break the thing’s neck in seconds. Another creature came out of the fog and Hulk slammed the dead body of its fellow creature into the second before leaping high in the air through the fog and smashing back down atop the shoulders of a third right behind the second beast. Hulk bashed both their heads with a boulder while they jerked brokenly on the ground.
As Hulk dropped the ichor-covered rock in disgust, Nat realized this was indeed Hulk and not Bruce, but something was different from when they’d last worked together in Sokovia. He focused on her and smiled, straightening up a bit from his normal crouch and squaring his shoulders as he approached. He was wearing a full suit of purple, black, and gray material that covered his torso, legs, and shoulders down to his biceps and ankles.
“Took you long enough,” Clint complained.
“Had company,” Hulk returned, but his gaze had never left Nat. “We need to get ‘Tasha to the top while the rest fight Thanos’ dogs,” he explained. “Lift?” he asked her, sounding less gruff.
They had often teamed up in the past, so Natasha didn’t hesitate. “Sure, Big Guy.”
He bent down on his right knee and offered her a boost up with his right hand. Natasha stepped lightly onto his palm and left knee before swinging onto his shoulder and neck. She noted there were straps for hand or footholds on the back and shoulders of his uniform which practically had her name on them. She would have killed for these before Sokovia. She wondered whose idea they were.
“Not fair,” Clint protested. “Since you and Banner got engaged, I’ve totally lost my ride.”
“Complain to Banner,” Hulk said with a brief chuckle before he turned and sprang up the slope at a smooth lope, covering the rocky ground quickly and leaving the rest of the team behind to fight. “Hang on,” he instructed as the pitch of the incline soon had him climbing and leaping between rocky outcrops. The sounds of the skirmishing began to fade as they made their way up the crude path. “We’re supposed to retrieve it.”
Happy Holidays!
Body and Soul: The Endgame Fix
"Part 16: Tea and Empathy"
Summary: Bruce and Natasha return home to find a friend waiting on the porch. They tap into Bruce’s supply of Girl Scout cookies, make a call across the galaxy, and later they answer one from closer to home. Yes, we earn our mature rating.
Notes: Happy Holidays to those who celebrate! Here’s nice big chapter for those who’ve waited. It’s still the evening of Monday, October 30, 2023.
AO3 Fanfiction.net WattPad
Excerpt . . .
The last thing they'd expected to find was Dr. Stephen Strange waiting for them on the porch, but the Sorcerer Supreme was relaxing on the carved wooden swing with a gray cat on his lap as Bruce pulled up and parked the HX in its usual spot.
"Dr. Strange," Bruce said as he got out of the vehicle. Natasha didn't hesitate to hop out of the passenger's side door. She'd never met him, yet he looked exactly like the pictures she'd found when she researched him after Tony and Nebula had arrived back from Titan. She guessed the large gray cat that jumped out of the tall man's lap must be Gertie.
"Dr. Banner . . . and Ms. Romanoff, I presume," the magic-user returned in his deep baritone voice as he stood up.
"You presume correctly," she said as she joined Bruce. It was nice not to have her identity questioned from the get-go. The cat darted inside through the pet door, and Natasha caught Bruce huffing out a rather flummoxed breath through his nose.
"Stephen, good to see you. I assume you've already met, Gertrude. May I introduce you to Natasha Romanoff," Bruce said, extending his right hand. "Nat, this is Stephen Strange, Earth's Sorcerer Supreme," he explained and mirrored the same open-handed gesture of introduction with his left hand.
"A pleasure," the dark-haired physician said with a slightly amused smile. Natasha came forward and shook the hand he offered her as she stepped onto the porch with Bruce right behind her. "It's a pleasure to meet you," she said. Nat noticed his hand was every bit as scarred as Bruce's was and almost as warm, too. She'd read about the auto accident that ended his surgical career in his file.
"It's good to finally meet you, Ms. Romanoff." He held onto her hand a moment longer than necessary, and Nat knew he was scanning and scrutinizing her, so she stared steadily back into his intense blue eyes and matched his firm grip.
"She's the real one," Bruce assured the sorcerer as he used the tile pad to let them into the house. "Please come in and have some tea, Doctor."
"I can't stay for long, but tea sounds good," the physician admitted and followed the couple through the mudroom and into the kitchen where Sirius greeted them with a low "Whoof!" as Bruce assured the dog the guest was welcome. Strange held out the back of his hand, and the overgrown pup gave it a brief sniff before backing off and circling Natasha protectively.
"Have a seat," Bruce said and filled a copper kettle with water and placed it on the stove before reaching into the cabinet for cups and saucers. Natasha collected Bruce's jacket and hung it up with hers on a peg near the door. She offered to hang up Strange's cloak but he kept it draped over his shoulders as if he were still warding off a chill from the evening air.
"Darjeeling, oolong, green, herbal, some other kind of herbal, or Earl Grey?" Bruce asked as he checked through the containers on the cabinet where the loose-leaf teas had congregated.
With a mischievous smile, the sorcerer suggested, "Surprise me."
"All right, but I doubt you came here for the tea, Stephen."
Strange looked at both Bruce and Natasha, moving around each other with the ease of an experienced pit crew. "No, but I did come for the company and to compare a few notes on certain loose ends, which have turned out to be something more like an unraveling than a tying up of threads."
Bruce sighed. "No neat dénouement for the Time Heist?"
"No, apparently not." Strange studied Natasha who had found Bruce's oversupply of Girl Scout Cookies in the pantry. Without missing a beat, Bruce handed her three small plates to go with the teacups and saucers he'd just set on the counter. The sorcerer was still marveling at how well they coordinated and in-tune they seemed, despite being separated for so long. "Please tell me you have the peanut butter ones dipped in chocolate," he requested. Those had always been a weakness of his.
Natasha dispensed with formality and handed the physician an unopened box of his apparent favorites. She stacked half a box of Thin Mints on a plate for Bruce and pulled out a few butter cookies with chocolate backing for herself. She placed the opened boxes in the middle of the table since it might take the remainder to get through the conversation even if it was brief. Bruce passed her some spoons and napkins to lay out, too. The honey and sugar were already in the table's center. None of them took cream with their tea.
Natasha sat down across the table from Strange whose back was to the mudroom door while Bruce stayed leaning against the higher section of counter, waiting for the kettle to boil. She'd missed seeing what type of tea he'd put into the stainless mesh ball, so it was going to be a surprise for her, too.
Strange cleared his throat as he slid the remainder of his box of cookies into the middle of the table with the others. "First, Ms. Romanoff . . ."
"Natasha, please."
"Natasha, I'm very happy to see you are among the living. I spoke to Wanda earlier, and she passed along the good news. I've since communicated with Fury and Captain Danvers, so I have some information about your captor to pass along if you'd care to hear it."
"Of course," Natasha affirmed.
"Please do," Bruce said with his burly arms folded across his chest.
"As you've already surmised, your impersonator was indeed a Skrull, Natasha. The assumption was the Skrull was either from a different group that Earth hadn't encountered before, one which split off during their diaspora, or perhaps he was some kind of a rogue agent. However, once Fury's allies, the Skrulls under Talos' leadership, compared cell samples collected from the craft in the lake to their database, it became evident that there was a connection."
"So, Nat's fake is related to some of Talos' people?" Bruce asked.
Strange nodded, "Four of them to be exact."
"I hope we're talking siblings or cousins," Bruce said with a frown.
Natasha cut to the other possibility, "Would they be grandparents?"
Strange nodded toward Natasha in acknowledgment, "In a manner of speaking, you were dealing with a being who doesn't exist yet."
The kettle's whistle gradually crescendoed to its full-throated high note as the implications sunk in. Bruce removed the kettle from the burner and turned the gas off. "Something tells me there's a common thread between this issue and what's been happening since the Time Heist. Clint told us there have been more paradoxes turning up."
"Yes, more than just the ones we've been dealing with concerning the Sousa family. In that case, it does seem to come back to a certain individual."
"Speaking of him, have you had a chance to sit down with Steve?" Bruce asked.
"We spoke about a week ago at a coffee shop in the Village, the day after he arrived (or reappeared?), but I can't say that he was extremely helpful. We went over what he'd done and where he said he was for all that time he was absent from our reality, but there were discrepancies almost from the beginning. Before I came here, I stopped by his apartment in Brooklyn, but he doesn't appear to have been there in some time if at all since Tony's funeral."
Bruce continued to frown. "I was hardly able to speak with him the day our Steve left and the old man arrived before that version left the Compound grounds. I asked if he understood the implications his little side junket might have for our timeline, and he clammed up tight. Sam and Bucky got in my face when I asked him again, so I thought it was better to back off before heavier things than words were flying. Do you think he's skipped?"
Natasha was imagining Sam's over-protective reaction and the possible outcome of a three-on-one fight with Bruce and the control it had taken on his part to avoid one. Even with those odds, a damaged arm, and a reluctance to harm the others, she'd have still put her money on Bruce. Nevertheless, the whole thing bothered her. She'd been at Peggy's funeral, and Natasha knew just how much Peggy had meant to him. Natasha also remembered seeing Peggy's husband Daniel there, not an older version of Steve. Selfishly throwing the rest of the universe into chaos and creating multiple splinters of the timeline—multiple conflicting realities—didn't match up with Steve's character or ethos at all.
The sorcerer shook his head. "I believe you were right not to press the matter, under those circumstances, Bruce." Strange thought a moment before answering the physicist's question, "If he's still in our reality, it seems likely he's gone underground. I've not been able to track him, and I suspect that's because he's not who he claims to be."
"Or he's found a way to cloak himself from a magical search since I imagine that's what you've already done," Natasha suggested. Strange nodded his confirmation. He'd used a hair from Steve's apartment to weave a tracking spell, and the magic had completely failed. "Do you have any idea exactly what he did to affect the timeline?" she asked.
Strange tried to keep from rolling his eyes with frustration before he dove into his explanation. "It appears he created a parallel timeline in which he lived out his life with Peggy Carter and then renounced that reality after her death to return to our own long enough to drop off the older version of his shield to Colonel Wilson. I'm not completely certain why he felt so compelled to return it, except that he seems to have wanted to pass along his mantel to Sam."
Bruce shook his head, feeling just as frustrated as the magic user. "Why would he want us to think he'd lived his past out in our timeline? Are you sure this really was our Steve?" the physicist asked.
"Those are good questions," the sorcerer stated.
"Was he human?" Natasha asked.
Strange shrugged the slightest bit. "That's also a good question."
"So, we really don't know if this was our Steve, another version of Steve, or a Skrull or something else?" Bruce posited. He'd warmed up a large ceramic teapot and steeped the tea, so now he poured their three cups full and settled them on the saucers for the other two.
"Correct, and that also leaves us with the anomalies involving the Souzas' background shifts and other exchanges or apparent 'edits' of digital footprints," the physician noted and blew on the steaming tea in his cup. "Mmm, white tea, ginger, and . . . bergamot?"
"You're good," Bruce said and placed his larger-sized cup and saucer at the head of the table and sat down in his extra-sturdy seat between the other two. "Whether this was our Steve or not, I'd seriously like to know where he acquired the Pym particles necessary to do the extra hop back to our reality," Bruce groused.
"Although I couldn't get him to say as much, I imagine he stole an extra vial or two when he returned the Space Stone," Strange surmised.
Bruce nodded, "That's the most likely explanation, but I'm amazed that didn't sabotage the whole Time Heist. Damn, it likely created at least one more splinter." The physicist clenched his jaws and then his right fist tightened. Now, he wished he'd thought faster, swallowed his pride, and called in Carol as soon as the old man had appeared on the lakeside bench. Things might have gotten messy, but they also might have had definitive answers to some of their questions. He felt Natasha's hand on his left forearm and realized his frustrations were getting the better of him. Bruce relaxed his jaw muscles and quit grinding his teeth as he loosened his clenched fist, flexing his damaged hand.
"Is Carol the only one who can detect a Skrull?" Natasha asked as she reached for a jar of honey in the middle of the table. Strange flicked his finger to levitate the jar gently into her grasp and unscrewed the lid. She raised an eyebrow and smiled her thanks.
"Please tell us you've figured out some method of detection, Stephen," Bruce said a bit forlornly.
Strange chuckled. "That actually brings me to another interesting piece of news," he said and unfastened his cloak to expose a familiar artifact resting on his chest.
The scar behind Bruce's right thumb heated up even before he realized what was once again housed in the amulet. A green light flared behind the metal housing, making the connection unmistakable. "How did you get it back?"
"As you might know, Stark returned the broken amulet that housed the Time Stone to Master Wong who had it repaired and returned to the place it had previously been kept. Two days ago, the Time Stone reappeared in its housing. I and several others have been investigating this phenomenon since then."
"How is this possible?" the scientist asked in disbelief. "Did Steve pocket it and bring it back?"
"I don't think so. Our surveillance cameras would have detected that" the sorcerer noted. The couple both gave him slightly incredulous looks. "What? We're not allowed to use both magic and technology?"
"You're right. That makes perfect sense," Natasha said. People were only human even if they were powerful magic users.
"What was on the recording?" Bruce asked, moving on with his inquiry.
"There was a green flash and the Stone manifested, once again whole and seated in the amulet just as it had been before."
"You wouldn't happen to have had a spectrometer nearby?" Bruce asked ruefully, wishing there had been more solid data collected.
Strange sighed, "No, but we can talk about adding one if you think that would be useful in the future."
"I'll start the paperwork for you myself," Bruce offered.
Natasha had grown quiet, her mind racing through possible scenarios and ramifications. "Is there any way to check for the presence of the other stones? If the Time Stone has returned, it must be possible for the others to do the same, right?"
The men looked at each other before Bruce spoke. "That's why I wish we'd gotten an energy signature and a reading on the Time Stone's manifestation; then, we might know what we need to look for with more specificity."
"Don't you have some of the data from the testing you and Tony and later Shuri did on the Space and Mind Stones?" she asked.
"You're right. We have data on those two energy signatures, which leaves . . ."
"The Power, Reality, and Soul Stones," Nat finished for him.
Strange held up his hand. "Perhaps another angle of inquiry that would help narrow a search would be to focus on the most likely places each Stone might manifest." The couple looked at each other and nodded. Strange gave a little snort as he watched them telegraphing and ending each other's thoughts. "Are you two sure you've been apart?"
Bruce went a little pale and then flushed beneath his verdant complexion as he looked at her with adoration. Natasha simply smiled back at the sorcerer and patted Bruce's muscular thigh beneath the table. "Now, Doctor, you're sounding like Tony Stark, except he'd have said something more embarrassing, and Bruce would be blushing less."
Bruce started to object but stopped himself. "True," he admitted with a thoughtful nod. "Anyway, as you were saying, Stephen?"
"I think it would help facilitate our search if we looked in the other Stones' last known locations," Strange suggested.
"You mean before Thanos 'acquired' them," Nat clarified.
"And using them and destroying them," Bruce added.
The sorcerer stroked his beard in thought. "Yes, and I believe I may know whom to ask for help with some of that. Bruce, can you still contact the Benatar?"
"That depends upon where they are and whether or not they're using a jump port," Bruce said. "Have you spoken to Fury about this? He may have better equipment and more contacts."
"Fury already knows and is checking through his channels, but I suspect the Guardians and Thor might be closer to Nowhere, Morag, or the remains of Xandar and Asgard than Fury's contacts."
"I have the prototype communication linkup that Rocket and I first put together if you'll give me a few minutes to set it up," Bruce said.
"I can spare it, especially if it gives us some answers," the physician responded.
"Back in a minute," he said and stood up from the table. Sirius watched as his master disappeared out the back door and headed to the warehouse, but he stayed at Natasha's feet.
"How about the Mind Stone?" Natasha asked. "Would Wanda be able to sense if it reappeared?"
"So far nothing," Strange admitted. "She was the first person I contacted after returning from the Kamar-Taj."
"And the next?"
"Wakanda."
"To check on Vision?"
"Yes, but nothing new, no manifestation. His body is still an empty shell."
"But Bruce, Shuri, and Helen are all working on it now," Natasha said.
"That's my understanding," Strange said. "The last time I spoke with Bruce they were working on integrating the programming and data from different sources, but still searching for a power source to replace the Stone."
"That's my understanding, too," she said, not wanting to get ahead of what Bruce may or may not have shared.
Sirius stirred and Bruce entered the kitchen with a reinforced metal case in hand, which he laid out on a clear spot in the middle of the kitchen floor and opened. "Give me a minute. This wasn't designed for hands my size. Friday, bring the array online and prepare the reactor for a higher power demand."
"Already on it, Doctor Banner," the Interface intoned brightly.
The physicist tapped a tile in the wall next to the counter to expose a variety of ports and outlets. He'd looped a coil of cables over his shoulder, which he unrolled and attached to the outlets first before connecting it to the device.
As Natasha rose from her seat, she looked at the open case that was unfolding onto the floor around itself to create a circular pad. She recognized some similarities to the diagnostic device at the medical facility from earlier in the day and the holographic communication array Bruce had designed for the Avengers Compound. She'd used it for almost a week to communicate with Okoye, Rocket, Rhodey, and Carol before the Skrull replaced her, but that device had been larger and less portable. Nat was certain this was the beta version of the machine, on which Bruce had kept tinkering after Rocket and he had designed it. Luckily, he kept it because the larger one was probably destroyed. "Do you need some help with the controls?" she asked.
"If you could flip the input lens up and handle the keypad, I'd appreciate it," he said as he handed her a modified Stark-pad and pointed to a manual set of switches on the base that stood out from the sleeker parts of the design. "That should give control of the contact calculations over to Friday." Nat did as he'd requested and adjusted the lens when it flipped into position. "Friday, engage please," Bruce said.
"Aye, initiating. Doctor, whom would you like me to contact?"
Strange caught himself before answering and Bruce grinned back. Having another degree holder in the kitchen was only slightly unusual. "Whoever is on the Benatar—Rocket, Nebula, or Thor will do. I imagine we'll be talking to all of them if this goes through."
"Please, not Drax or Quill," Strange said half under his breath.
The device hummed slightly and they waited a few moments. "Where is your antenna set up?" Natasha asked.
"The warehouse roof. It's the one place flat enough and big enough to hold the communication array, the telescopes, and some other equipment. The local Historical Society would have thrown a fit if I'd stuck anything on top of the house."
"And the reactor?" she asked as the pad in her hands began to display a map that looked like a detailed, three-dimensional star chart.
"It has a lab to itself. Why? Are you worried we'll need more juice?"
"Just thinking ahead to the Christmas lights," she teased back. "Can I display this with the holographic projector in the device?"
"There should be an option for that in the dropdown menu at the upper left," Bruce explained. She quickly had the images flashing into life in a gold column of light, and Strange moved around the table to get a closer look.
"I've found them," Friday said. "Do you want me to hail the Benatar?"
"Please," Bruce said.
In a moment, they heard a crackling that quickly resolved as the channel cleared. "Awwww . . . Did ya miss me, Big Green?" Rocket Racoon's voice asked as the golden image of the stars broke up and reformed into a life-size image of their friend that almost looked solid.
"Just the person I wanted to talk to," Bruce said.
The Guardian tilted his head and squinted. "Holy shhhh... .? Natasha?" Rocket sputtered as he recognized her. His fists went to his eyes and he wiped at them with disbelief before staring back again. "Nice haircut. What's going on? This better not be a joke!"
"No joke. Long story," she said, stepping further forward. "I lost about five years, but I did get to work with you for about a month and a half on the policing council we were setting up before I was grabbed."
"Sweet sushi! Then who was I working with? Who died? Who said she wouldn't let me in the kitchen anymore if I ate something out of the garbage can again?"
Natasha looked at Bruce for direction, and he raised his eyebrows and gave her a small shrug. Strange nodded briefly when she looked at him. "It was a doppelganger, a double who was also a very talented spy," she said.
"A Face Dancer or a Skrull?" Rocket asked.
"A Skrull. So, you've heard of them before?" she asked.
"Well, there aren't a lot of them around since the Kree went all empire on them, but they are known for their shape-shifting talents. I've never heard of one doing it for a whole five Earth years though. That's a hell of a commitment."
"Natasha! I knew I heard your voice!" Thor rumbled as he came into the column's projection field, pushing Rocket a bit to the side as the little technician protested and held his nose.
"Thor?" Natasha asked, sounding quite puzzled by his shaggy and fleshy appearance in exercise shorts and a tank top.
"Damn, I meant to tell you about him," Bruce whispered apologetically. "He got very depressed."
"Sorcerer Strange, do we have you to thank for her resurrection?" the Asgardian asked.
Bruce and Stephen looked at each other, and the sorcerer cleared his throat and stepped closer to the communication device's input lens. "No, I believe Natasha managed to free herself."
"Then you escaped Vormir on your own? That is truly auspicious!" the thunder god assumed.
"No, Thor, I was held in stasis for about five years."
"Five years? Baldur's ghost," he stammered and looked away, calculating how long she'd been a prisoner. "I . . . I'm so sorry. Then who did we work with? How did it happen?"
"A Skrull spy, you smelly dope," Rocket growled and slapped Thor's belly to back him up a bit.
"Is that who died?" Thor asked.
"Yes," Natasha said with a nod.
"I guess that explains some of her behavior and the shabby way she treated Bruce. You've told Clint, right?"
"He knows. He was here earlier," she explained.
"Ah, good," Thor said with a nod. "I'm glad you called me."
"You weren't the only one they called," Rocket said irritably as he elbowed in front of the gigantic blonde again. "Why don't you go back to helping Quill put that Bo-Flexier thing together?!"
"Looks like you've lost some weight," Bruce noted.
"Only because we're outta beer," Rocket snapped.
"Thank you for noticing," Thor said with a pleased smile.
"Actually," Strange spoke up, "there is another matter we wanted to discuss. If Nebula is there, we'd like to include her in the conversation." It took about ten minutes of discussion to get everyone up to speed between interruptions as the rest of the Guardians joined the conversation, except for Groot who mostly rolled his eyes as he worked a newer handheld game in the background before leaving the cabin. No, they'd not heard any news of the Infinity Stones manifesting, but they'd been mostly focused on following Gamora's trail and looking for Asgardian survivors. There was confusion, but also a lot of joy after Bruce's Snap returned people.
The Guardians had good news on that front. The spaceport where the heavily damaged hulk of the Ambassador had been hauled after its destruction at Thanos' hands had doubled its population of 1,200 as unsnapped Asgardians and even some resurrected ones rejoined the living along with a few Sakaaran gladiators as well. Thor teared up as he thanked Bruce for including so many of his people in the Hulk-Snap.
"It was the least I could do. I really wasn't sure if it had worked. Were Loki or Heimdall returned?" Bruce asked.
"No news of them yet, but we've not given up hope," Thor said with a shrug. "Most of the survivors will be immigrating to New Asgard to join the rest as ships become available," he explained.
Rocket chuckled, "It's not like we could get them an Uber Lift, but the locals seemed pretty motivated to get them all off the station and resettled."
"Before they eat them out of lauder and breathe them out of oxygen," Nebula added. "We're headed toward Nowhere next as we search for my sister. Perhaps we'll hear something about the Power or the Reality Stone there."
"Hope so," Quill added. "We've heard stories that don't match up. Some reports say there's nothing left of Xandar, but others say only the capital was damaged and it's slowly and quietly being rebuilt. When we get closer, the information should get more reliable."
"If there's something to see, we won't know till we see it with our own eyes or not," Draxx said stoically.
"I hate to break up this love fest," Rocket intoned, "but we are nearing the jump port. Has everyone made their requests, kissed their moms, and said their good-byes?"
"Please let us know as quickly as you're able if there's news of a Stone manifesting," Strange entreated.
"We certainly will," Nebula replied in her husky all-business tone. Bruce had a good rapport with Rocket and an abiding friendship with Thor, but he placed most of his confidence in the tall blue cyborg.
"Just a moment," Thor said and got close to the device as the others receded from view. "Let me know when the wedding is, okay? I'd like to be there." Before Bruce or Natasha could respond, he'd winked and signed off.
Here's the HULK action you didn't get in the films. This is the second chapter from Hulk's point of view, which covers what should have been the three-film Banner and Hulk story arc we didn’t get.
~o~
It took six more months by his reckoning, but Hulk was ready to take on the Grandmaster’s Champion. He’d worked his way through beasts, monsters, warriors, cyborgs, robots, and something like a fungus, which had been one of the more difficult ones. The Grandmaster himself announced the match as a huge hologram and introduced him as “The! Incredible! HUULLKK!!!” and Hulk leapt into the center of the arena. The Sakaarans screamed and chanted his name as he brandished his great ax and broadsword above his head, flexing and showing off his poses for the crowd. Everyone was standing and stomping. He loved it! This made him happy! Then, it was time to face the current Champion. Hulk knew the routine and stood on the Challenger’s side of the arena floor, grimacing fiercely and posturing for his fans.
“Wow, the Green Goliath is a crowd pleaser here at the Contest of Champions! He’s certainly one of my personal favorites. Now, let’s show some enthusiasm for his competition. My fellow Sakaarans, I present to you your current Champion, rider of winds, the myth, the legend . . . KAMAITAKI!!!” The doors opened and a dust devil swept through and grew into a huge column of wind and flying debris. Hulk pulled the visor down on his new helmet and stood impassively waiting as the edge of the dust cloud swept past him. He’d seen the creature fight several times before, so he was prepared with new armor and tactics.
Contestants weren’t supposed to use outright magic, but some fighters had innate abilities that definitely pushed that rule. Kamaitaki was one of them. As the wind and dust settled down, a creature resembling a seven-meter long brown ferret on steroids stood growling and baring its sharp, foot-long teeth at Hulk. Not only did the beast have poisonous fangs, its four sets of claws were like curved sword blades. It’s reflexes and attacks were lightning fast, but it often relied on cunning.
Fighting it straight up would have been a challenge, but its mastery of creating and utilizing cyclonic bursts of wind made it difficult to defend against or hit with a weapon or a fist. Hulk had seen it wear down opponents and play with them before it darted in to take a venomous nosh and let the fighter slowly collapse before delivering its coup de grâce with its claws. It could be cruel and calculating with its tactics, but Hulk had talked to his friend, the old barber, who seldom missed a match, and come up with several ideas. They often strategized when Hulk needed a shave or trim, and even Angry Girl had to admit the old man knew his stuff.
Hulk was well known for charging straight ahead and hitting his opponent like a ton of angry, green bricks. He cultivated that simple, unschooled image, but Angry Girl had him practicing and working with a variety of weapons and strategies. She realized he would never have a great deal of finesse, but Hulk usually made up for it with strength and durability. He was also enthusiastic and pretty damn stubborn, so as long as he had a clear goal to work toward, like becoming the Champion, he would do what she told him (and not complain) to get the job done.
Their plan was to give the crowd a good show of what they’d come to expect: lots of raging and offensive power moves. If any connected, great, but what they were waiting for was the bite. Hulk had been on Sakaar for about a year then, so he’d regained almost all of his physical abilities and strength, including his nearly impenetrable skin and his quick healing. Their strategy depended on his skin and his healing factor shrugging off or stymieing Kamaitaki’s bite and its poison. From there, it might play out several ways, but Hulk felt ready to meet every possibility they’d thought up. Hulk had also chosen lighter armor that gave him greater mobility with versatility in mind.
During training, Angry Girl had even insisted on finally getting him drunk, so he could have a feel for the “disembodiment of the experience,” which supposedly resembled being poisoned by Kamaitaki’s bite. Hulk was pretty certain she had ulterior motives. It had taken a lot of alcohol for him to feel “buzzed,” but he hadn’t puked or passed out. Afterward, the seductive pleasantness of being numb, even for just a few minutes, scared him. He thought her drinking herself into a stupor was an odd way for her to handle her pain if that was why she was always doing it. Still, the idea of him imitating his father was enough for him to stay clear of it. Troubles were generally better faced head on in his opinion. Fight them or get the hell away.
Hulk brought his attention back in focus as the Grandmaster shouted: “Let the Contest of Champions BEGIN!!!” The crowd roared and so did Hulk as he charged forward only to meet the full force of Kamaitaki’s column of air. Having planned for this, Hulk stabbed his broadsword into the ground for a stable point to brace against and then sheathed his ax between his shoulder blades to free up his hands. Next, Hulk brought his palms together in a thunderous clap that collapsed the column of air, revealing a very surprised Kamaitaki overhead, scrambling to stay aloft.
Continued on WattPad, FanFiction.net, and AO3.
