Rock-Bottom Runaway

Dream

Hours had been spent on the Quinjet. Bruce floated through the sky, allowing autopilot to drive whilst he thought of ideas on where Natasha could be. He thought hard, writing down every possibility on a map, asking the computer to calculate lengths of the roads to figure out what could have happened. However, the geniuses mind had lacked rest for what seemed like years. The moment of silence and tranquility had him snoring lightly and occasionally moaning like a lost child.

Natasha's face. Her beautiful face was the only thing his unconscious mind could think of.
He remembered his huge green hand, slowly reaching to touch her smooth ivory skin; the feeling of his heart felt so joyous and relaxed that the beast's brain fluttered and shut down, only to wake up again and have the privilege of seeing her fiery red hair brushing against him as she sat him up and spoke to him.

He remembered the sound of her gorgeous bell-chime voice. So flawless and alluring. Every time she spoke, he felt his blood swaying like a lullaby. The way a gentle smirk always pulled her plump rosy lips always had the doctor speechless, with nothing but red ears and a dopey smile on his face.

He remembered their first night together. Sleeping beside her was odd at first, but it showed her true side. She'd placed a gun under her pillow before they went to bed, which frightened Bruce a little. However, after she'd fallen asleep, she coiled onto Bruce, wrapped a leg around him and spooned him tightly, letting out small weeps. He had never seen her that vulnerable, and that's when he knew that she was truly as broken as he was. Eventually, he rubbed her back and soothed her back into a sweet dream, then fell asleep himself.

As he fell asleep in his flashback, Bruce woke up with a quick flinch. The Jet was beeping.

"Doctor, I have put your calculations together and found a possible theory." The voice said. Bruce pinched his eye lids tiredly and murmured in a sleepy tone:

"Put it on the screen."