This Is Stella's Reality

September 2, 2014

I huffed into the hot air of the training room, blasting another target out of the air with my magic. The days were still hot with summer heat; the nights were cold with the promise of autumn approaching.

There's nothing between us.

Bucky's words echoed in my head like nails scratching down a chalkboard. I screamed, turning all of the targets JARVIS had been firing into dust that fluttered around me in cerulean blue flames.

"You okay, Stel?"

I whipped my head around, "Bruce?"

He was standing in the entrance of the training room, awkwardly leaning in the arch frame.

"Yeah, I," I swallowed thickly around the sob that threatened to push its way out of my throat. "I just wanted to do some target practice." I had brought myself to the training room directly after lunch with the team, unable to bear being around them any longer.

Bruce gave me a soft smile, "I came to run some tests on myself, but I can come back later if you want to be alone."

He was a sweet man, quiet and introverted, but observant and respectful. He often ran tests on himself, checking for any new abnormalities or treatment plans. I should have known I wouldn't be alone for long.

"No, Bruce, it's fine. Do you need help?"

"You could help me chart the data. But only if you want to."

I smiled, happy to have any distraction, "I wouldn't have offered if I minded."

He nodded, walking over to me. He handed me a clipboard with charts and boxes for data entry. He had a briefcase with him, and it opened to reveal wires and monitors. Sometimes I forgot how intelligent he was. He never made a show of it unlike a certain genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist.

Bruce looked up at me for a moment, his eyes shy, "Uh, I may need your help with these." He held up wires with stickers attached to the ends. They were connected to a monitor. I recognized these as the equipment Bruce and Tony would use on the team if we were ever hurt. They stuck to skin and ran vitals.

I shrugged, "Okay. What do I do with them?"

He shuffled on his feet, "I need to take my shirt off, and I need you to help me stick them to my chest and back."

Oh, that's why he's being so awkward. He's cute.

I laughed, "Bruce, it's not a big deal. I don't mind."

Wordlessly, he handed me the stickers, presumably too embarrassed to maintain eye contact or conversation. I turned away to give him some privacy for a moment.

Horrifyingly for Bruce, Tony rounded the corner of the training room door, another monitor in hand, "Woah, am I interrupting something?"

Great.

Bruce yelped loudly behind me, "Tony, just put the damn monitor down." He huffed a sigh.

Tony winked at me, "I can do the stickers, Stel." He took them out of my hand and moved to start poking and prodding Bruce's skin. Soon, he was covered in wires and the monitor beeped to life lightly with Bruce's vital signs.

"So, what are you going to be doing?" I asked.

Bruce shrugged, "General physical activity, running, boxing, and so on. This is just a routine scan to see if anything has changed since the last data collection."

I nodded. Bruce was obsessed with data and numbers, always trying to figure out what the Hulk was, how he worked, and what he responded to.

Tony stood next to me, "I can stay and do the data if you have other stuff you want to do, Glinda the Good."