The Trial of Bruce Banner

Surrender

"If I have to hear one more word from the press, I swear-!" Jennifer grumbles from behind her desk, storming for the door at 5 a.m.

The lawyer gasps as she turns the handle to open it in her green form with a small child charging to cling to her leg.

"Beckster!" Jennifer crouches and embraces her niece with a louder voice than she knows she should.

"Hi Jen," Natasha says once the front door is shut behind her with a lightweight duffle on her shoulder.

"Oh Nat," Jen shakes her head, "I am so sorry I couldn't do more. I hope-."

She's cut off by a hug, this time from the woman with the blonde chopped hair, her practical sister-in-law.

Jennifer wraps her arms around Natasha in reply and squeezes her tightly.

"I'm glad you're okay," Jen whispers.

"Thanks to you,' Natasha admits as they part, 'and her."

Romanoff points toward the staircase.

"H-Hi," Betty stammers, in a pink nightgown, looking down at the trio with her awakened son at her side.

"Hi," Natasha answers with a sincere smile.

â€"â€"-

With Dran and Declin out of the picture and under Fury's commendation, Natasha feels safe enough to visit the prison.

The security is excessive as they pat her down and demand all belongings be placed under a scan.

Seven guards have their eyes and hands on her as she stands at the entrance. Her palms glue to her hair as they search her for any items.

Natasha knows a stray bobby pin would mean she's denied access. Carefully, her hands lower once she's permitted to do so.

"Remove your jacket,' a woman snaps, 'you're enhanced."

It's a light sweatshirt, but Natasha complies with her mind focused on Bruce. Within minutes, he'll be in her arms. She'll be able to run her fingers through his curls, look into his eyes, and tell him they're okay- mostly. She'll skip the part about the Scottish laboratory. About Alexei's descriptions of how their daughter's supposedly changed when Rebecca broke the glass.

Natasha swallows and submits silently to suppressing injections administered by the guards meant to last only 45 minutes- the amount of time she has to spend with her husband uninterrupted yet still supervised.

The color drains from her cheeks the instant the needle pierces her skin. She sighs heavily as if energy has been depleted from her, immediately far more exhausted than she had been upon pulling up to the secured building.

Natasha's eyelids would droop if she weren't so accustomed to being drugged. She has dealt with plenty of poisons, numb to the sensation of Super Serum suddenly dulled in its pulsing through her veins.

Rebecca has been through worse with the constant stabbing and prodding.

Natasha can't help but wonder what those jolts of energy must have felt like. Sudden freedom, perhaps- the same way she feels when the chemicals fade. Unleashed and whole. She'd never paid much attention to it; No villain or opposing force had ever caused Natasha to consider the loss or suppression of her abilities.

But Bruce. Bruce understands. He's wise when it comes to vocalizing sensations. He can describe it better than most in a way Rebecca will understand.

Natasha swallows and follows the security team toward Bruce Banner's cell, hoping to be given a moment of privacy. Something long enough to fill him in on their adventures and Rebecca's new talents.

"Someone is here for you, Dr. Banner," a guard announces.

Natasha stands opposite the sizeable floor-to-ceiling glass and behind the red-pointed laser. Why happens should she cross it without permission- she has no desire to know.

She heeds their protocol against her will, inhaling sharply when the wall is lifted.

Her thin husband sits on his cot dressed in orange with his back to her. He is in a hunched position, facing away from her position.

Natasha tip toes and views the timer above the otherwise dark and cool cell.

45 minutes.

She stops in her tracks. He has no desire to turn around, no desire to protect himself, or jump in response to a guest entering his space.

He's vulnerable and exposedâ€"a shell of who she knows without needing to see his eyes or hear his voice.

She forces a smile and sits at the edge of his cot. The glass encases them both while she sits, brushing his hair with her fingertips.

"You're a ball of stress," Natasha mutters.

Her wrist is caught by a firm yet weak hand. His head turns from the fetal position he awakens from, eyes gentle in recognition. Tears surround the reddened eyes that she almost wishes would turn green.

Instead, his eyes close as quickly as they have peeled open. His chest rises as it fills with oxygen, though she doesn't recognize the raspy tone from the overgrown facial hair surrounding his gentle lips when he frees her hand, "Tasha."

She bites her cheek and the inner part of her lower lip, "You sound disappointed."

He ignores her comment, "Becks."

Natasha offers a small smile, "Becks is okay."

He swallows himself, rotating now to see her. He squints.

Natasha is unsure what to make of his refusal to sit up and analyzes his tired blinking up at her.

"What?" She asks.

He shakes his head and covers his mouth to cough.

"Is it the hair?" Natasha fluffs the short edge with her palm and holds a smirk, "It was time for a change. I thought you'd like it."

He sighs.

She regrets the second attempt at being playful until he mutters tiredly,

"I liked it red."

Natasha lays a hand on his cheeks to hold him still, "I miss you."

"You don't," he mumbles, wrapping a hand around her wrists to keep her hands where they are.

"Yes, I do," she said, leaning over Bruce's chest and latching her mouth until his. "There's so much to tell you."

He pulls away from her second kiss, humming with a wandering mind.

"What?" She questions.

Bruce shakes his head 'no'.

"There's another pawn," Natasha tests.

He repeats the action, shaking his head, "You shouldn't be here."

"Well…I'm here," she says with confident reassurance. If there were additional threats, she would know. It's a risk being here, and she knows this. But Jen had said Bruce needed to see Natasha. And Natasha agreed. She required his company just as much.

There's a pause as if Bruce were in disbelief and needs to process Natasha's presence.

She bites her cheek over his eyelids, closing.

Natasha lowers herself to lay beside him and drapes an arm over the smallest part of her waist;

"Hold onto me?"

"Okay," he replies groggily, choosing sleep over her company and conversation.

Natasha kisses his forehead, securing herself against Bruce's chest, and forces herself to remain in his arms with one eye on the clock. If he were to give up, she's unsure of what happens next.

-No. Surrender wouldn't be an option. He'd fight it. Fight through self-doubt. All self-inflicted wounds, over whatever spiral he'd found himself in. He has to...

Any update on Rebecca will need to wait.

———Fin———

To be continued...