Archive of Our Own ^beta

Bruce Banner had always thought he’d live the normal picket fence life that people dream about.

His childhood had been Hell, but he’d made it out.

College, grad school- it was work, but he had done it.

He had even found Betty.

Everything should’ve been a dream.

And then along came the Hulk, and that dream was buried beneath the rubble that used to be Harlem.

He’d never expected anyone could love him again, not with the monster that itched for release just under the surface of his skin.

Until you showed him that his expectations didn’t always add up to equal reality.

Bruce had been running for so long when Natasha caught up to him, doing so much good for people that needed it when she brought him back home to assist in the fight against Loki.

Fury had wanted the man, not the monster- but they still needed both sides of him by the end of it.

He did it, though. He helped. As Bruce and as the Hulk, he had actually helped.

As shocking as it was, as terrifying as it had been, he had done something good again.

So, he decided, as Tony had offered for each of them to stay in his tower, he might not have to run again.

Maybe he could find a place here again.

Maybe he could have stability, could work in a real lab again.

Tony was proving to be a ridiculously easy person to have around, no matter his eccentricities, because it was the first time in so long Bruce had someone to talk to that actually understood him without needing to use layman’s terms. The man also had no qualms about poking the large, green bear- which was miles better than the way Captain America tiptoed around the topic.

It was one of those days in the lab that Bruce’s life was going to change forever, never the same as before, just as it had when he’d left home, when he’d gone through college, grad school, when he’d met Betty.

It should’ve been a normal day.

It should’ve been nothing but tests to run on a new hypothesis or testing the durability of Clint’s new arrowheads or Natasha’s new knives.

It should’ve been as easy as compiling data together over whatever takeout struck Tony’s fancy- he made the man promise at least one more week before he ordered shawarma again, nine times this month has been enough.

It should’ve been like any other day.

But it wasn’t.

It wasn’t because Tony wouldn’t stop trying to convince Bruce to join him for drinks with what he kept calling ‘their science peeps’.

It wasn’t because every time Bruce glanced up, Tony was whipping around like he hadn’t been watching the clock.

It wasn’t because every time Bruce asked what he was waiting for, Tony would just gesture toward the equipment and say ‘test results’.

It wasn’t, because right around the time Tony would usually order lunch, when JARVIS would alert him it was time so they didn’t forget to eat, Tony was rushing out of the lab to catch someone in a lab coat as they walked past the set of windows, “Doc!”

Bruce had blinked, surprised and confused and concerned- Had Tony been waiting on medical tests this whole time? Was he worried about something?

But then Tony was ushering the doctor back through the door, “Brucie Bear!” He yelled, giddier than Bruce had ever seen him, “I wanted to make sure you got to meet each other.”

Looking back, he would be embarrassed that the first time you met was after he and Tony had pulled an all-nighter, his clothes wrinkled and his hair a fluffy and floppy mop from tugging his fingers through it as he worked.

But at that moment, as you gave him your name with a small smile, shy but genuine, he didn’t have a thought to spare for his own appearance-

He was distracted by yours.

Hair an absolute mess, ink smudges down the side of your hand and somehow across your cheek, pen scrawled across the back of your non-dominant hand, post-it notes stuck on you in three different places, glasses perched precariously on your face and jostling even more as your hands moved gesticulating whatever it was you were saying-

That he hadn’t been hearing a word of.

“Uhhh,” he blinked again, his brain screaming that he could be making a much better first impression, “Huh?”

And yet you didn’t appear bothered in the slightest, repeating yourself as he focused more, “I’m a really big fan of your work.”

Was he having a stroke? There was no way you just said that.

“I really enjoyed the paper you wrote about fusion energy and non-ionizing radiation-“ you continued enthusiastically, though your tone didn’t get any louder- but your smile had gotten brighter, your eyes were warmer. You were radiating, “But the paper on gene expression and regulation- I genuinely couldn’t put it down. It was brilliant!”

Bruce…

Well, he panicked.

He actually ran away.

Honestly? Not his proudest moment, but he could suppose he’s had worse ones.

For a solid month, he would catch sight of you outside of the lab and hide, duck behind his desk if you popped in to see Tony unexpectedly, did a one eighty in his stride to run the other way if he saw you coming.

And Tony wasn’t letting him hear the end of it.

But how was he supposed to explain his behavior exactly?

He had met you for all of five minutes- far too swift an encounter to decipher and untangle the mess of sparking cords his chest had morphed into. It had been years since he experienced these feelings, these live wires of snapping neurons vibrating over his skin whenever he caught sight of your smile.

Love at first sight was not a real thing- he believed that empirically, he was a scientist.

Yet what else was there to explain his reaction to you?

‘Crush’ is what Tony kept insisting on, in that singsong and teasing voice of his, but Bruce felt he was a little too old to use the term. He wasn’t a kid anymore- hell, he wasn’t even in his thirties anymore!

He didn’t have a crush on you.

He… he was simply enamored with you.

But he had the Hulk to think about, the danger of even thinking of becoming involved with someone again was a risk he couldn’t try to take. It was better, safer, if he didn’t let himself entertain the slightest hope that you had felt it, too.

So, he continued to avoid you, and he planned on maintaining the distance as a long term strategy.

Which means that of course his best friend had to intervene.

Tony had claimed he needed Bruce’s help, working with corrosives and adhesives and lab safety and yada yada yada.

Honestly, he really should’ve seen it coming, after all the teasing that suddenly disappeared when he’d asked him for help, but he naively ignored it because he enjoyed working with the man.

And so he found himself stuck as you walked into the lab again, unable to flee without dropping the test tubes of dangerous materials Stark had precariously perched in his grip, feeling his gut flip and flop and fly and fall as you gave him a smile like he hadn’t just spent days on end avoiding you.

It made him realize he was being foolish.

You were just friendly, why had he gotten so in his head about it? Was he so lost on genuine human interaction now that he couldn’t handle a new friend?

The beeping of his watch said yes.

His heart rate was getting too elevated, he could see the realization on Tony’s face- they were approaching a disaster zone.

“Doctor Banner,” your voice was calm, like you didn’t understand the warning JARVIS was announcing to the rest of the tower, “What’s the equation for Newton’s Second Law of Motion?”

“What?” He found himself blinking, pausing his controlled breathing in shock. You were smart, he’s heard you and Tony talking- you were his top data analyst for Stark Industries. You had a doctorate in mathematics from MIT.

“Newton’s Second Law of Motion.” You repeated, patiently, “What’s the equation?”

“It’s- uh, it’s-“ why was he focusing on answering a question you already knew? “It‘s force equals mass times acceleration?”

You hummed as you moved desk papers about with no real purpose, nodding once before you caught his eye again, “What about the equation for potential energy?”

“Why does it matter!?” He hadn’t meant to snap, fingers moving to tug at his hair. He could see Tony trying to coax you into leaving, see Steve standing outside the door- no doubt in case the lockdown for the lab wasn’t sufficient.

“What’s the equation?” You asked again, your voice still… soft, almost. You were firm, but quiet. You must be naturally soft spoken, a no doubt odd characteristic of someone so friendly with Tony.

“It’s mass times gravitational acceleration times height.” His hands flapped a little, no directional motive to the action.

“What about pressure?” You continued, still fussing papers back and forth- it was a steady scratch-scrape-scratch sound of the edges against the table, not lacking a purpose at all. It was practically a metronome.

“Force divided by area.” He answered again, now without thinking. Without noticing. His breaths came in normal rhythm again, the beeping of his heart rate gone.

You finally looked up, that same gentle, warm smile on your face, “Do you want to keep going?”

“How-“ he shook his head in disbelief, ignoring that absolutely cocky smirk that was crossing Tony’s face, “How did you know that would help?”

“I didn’t.” You told him, as simple as if he’d asked what time it was, “But you needed a focal point, and what better way to distract a scientist than with science?”

“Huh,” Bruce let himself chuckle, relaxing in a way he hadn’t been.

Because you hadn’t been afraid of him.

He nearly hulked out, purely from anxiety over your proximity no less, surrounded by extremely breakable equipment that could’ve hurt you- and you hadn’t been afraid of him.

What was he so afraid of, then?

So, deciding it was better to be on good terms with someone that could keep him from going green when no one else could, Bruce stopped avoiding you.

He stopped running the other way.

He stopped ducking behind his desk.

He stopped hiding.

And maybe, if he had known what was coming- maybe he’d have kept hiding.

But if Bruce were a guessing- a betting man? One that did not make decisions based on scientific hypothesis and experimental evidence?

Well, he might’ve stopped hiding sooner.

In the four years from that day in the lab, Tony would often say that you wore Bruce down- the physicist used to be mildly offended at the implication, but you always laughed that same gentle, melodic sound.

A week after you calmed him down, you had brought food to the lab- almost like you knew Tony had ordered shawarma yet again- and Bruce had happily taken the plate you offered, pulling out the extra chair next to his desk for you to sit.

The week after that, you brought tea.

Within a month, you’d even coaxed him into joining you outside of the lab, outside of the tower- a quaint little coffeeshop that did poetry nights, of all things.

He found himself reading your dissertation- he had no idea he could think a mathematical concept was so compelling.

It uncovered a whole new avenue for him, where Tony wasn’t the only one that understood him anymore.

Coffee, physics lectures, art shows, tech conventions, movies, dinner- he wasn’t sure when the outings the two of you shared became dates.

Normally, he’d lay out the evidence in a calm, logical manner. Yet, he didn’t. Because he realized he didn’t mind, didn’t care about the when or the how or even the why.

He couldn’t care, because you actually loved him.

The first time you said those three words, over a year from when you’d first met, he could remember going stock still. He’d been expecting a biochemical reaction, an accelerated heart rate that could pose an issue- except the Hulk nearly purred in his subconscious, nudging him to reply.

Even as those words rolled so easily off his tongue, you didn’t seem phased that it took him a few moments to get them out. That seemed par for the course- no matter what level of intimacy he questioned himself about broaching, whether it be casual touches, holding hands, even that first kiss- you were always patient and waiting on the other side.

And that didn’t change when you proposed.

It had been an easy day in the lab, the two of you were chuckling at Tony’s grandiose and exaggerated complaints as he begrudgingly followed Steve out for some kind of meeting.

Bruce had watched them, an amused smile on his face, and when he turned back to his lab table he saw your hand.

No big gestures or sappy speech.

Simply outstretched and waiting.

Plain elastic polyurethane band resting in your palm.

“I tried to get the composition right, Tony helped,” you told him, making no comment that he was frozen, “I figured it would be best if it was something that could stretch for the Big Guy.”

Just like every other time, he expected to have a reaction.

Just like every other time, you weren’t rushing him.

You were in the middle of setting it on the table, telling him to think it over, to simply put it on if he wanted to say-

“Yes.” He had found himself saying, his smile growing as he got to see you freeze for once. “I’d love nothing more than to marry you.”

You were the happiest he’d ever seen you, rattling off science and math facts as your focus moved back to the project at hand- the subject change didn’t bother him, that focus was just another trait you shared and he enjoyed that.

And he saw the warm look you got every time your eye caught sight of the ring on his finger.

Bruce Banner finally believed he might get to live a happy ending again- even without the normalcy and picket fence. He was, in fact, still part of a team of heroes. A team that folded you into their family as easily as they did with Pepper.

You never made him feel like he was playing at normal, though. You never acted like he was just a regular person again. Not even when planning the wedding.

You didn’t treat him like a freak or some larger than life figure, either.

You just treated him like Bruce, someone you admired, but you acknowledged his other half in your gentle way that made him feel seen and safe.

There were simple days, staying in bed late or making dinner in his apartment in the tower.

There were lazy days, watching some reality competition show where he always chose a different favorite from you while the two of you debated who would win.

There were worrying days, when an experiment went wrong or when the Hulk had ventured off after a fight and Bruce hadn’t turned up yet.

And there were focused days, where you were so busy pouring over numbers Tony needed analyzed that you barely gave him a glance of acknowledgment as he filled your coffee or he would get lost in projects and formulas without even noticing your presence.

Each kind of day played a role in the wedding getting delayed.

Simple days that meant forgetting tailor appointments.

Lazy days where neither of you managed to get the invitations in the mail.

Worrying days that ended with med visits or a circling quinjet.

Focused days where any other detail slipped from thoughts.

He knew he still wanted to marry you, even more than he knew the equations you would still ask him when he needed a focal point.

He knew you still wanted to marry him, even more than he knew every word of his papers that you had so admired.

A wedding seemed doomed to fail, though, and yet the outcome was wanted.

A solution would need to be found.

Nevertheless, Bruce was a scientist. Solutions were his strong suit when he had the hypothesis and the evidence.

The required audience was simple enough to assemble. Your best friends were Tony and Pepper, you treated Steve like an unofficial brother that was both older and younger than you- a fact that both confused and amused the one and only Captain America. It had taken you much less time than it had Bruce to understand the team was a family, full of secrets and loyalty, so naturally they made the list as well.

The easiest thing is… neither of you had anyone else that you actually cared one way or the other if they came. The rest of the guest list had been made up of colleagues and coworkers, individuals that were just as happy to wish you good tidings and carry on with their days.

Bruce didn’t like putting it off any longer, not when the only thing stopping it was the fact that a big ceremony so easily slipped your minds.

And yet, you were still surprised when you went to walk into your shared office, and the man snagged the back of your collar, “Nope, not today- well, maybe today, later, not right now.”

“Oh?” You laughed that same gentle tune he loved down to his ever growing and shrinking bones, “Is there something happening aside from Tony awaiting my notes on the latest results?”

“A surprise,” Bruce grinned back, easy and mischievous- something he rarely got to be before his return to New York, before you, “Indulge me?”

Taking his outstretched hand, you beamed cheerily, “Always happy to.”

You hadn’t expected him to lead you down to the lab, hadn’t expected to find each of the Avengers standing there in lab coats, hadn’t expected the test tubes of glowing substances to be strung up across the machines.

“What’s all this?” You asked, chuckling as you reached out and straightened Steve’s coat lapels.

Pepper stood at the front of the group, poised as always, “Well, Bruce asked us to be present…”

She trailed off, clearly giving him the option to continue the explanation, he ducked his head sheepishly, “We aren’t good at the whole ceremony thing,” he told you, “So I thought a spur of the moment occasion would help.”

“Sounds perfect,” you told him, pressing a gentle kiss to his cheek, “And maybe JARVIS can save the anniversary date to a calendar so we don’t keep forgetting it.”

Tony barked a laugh, “Note has already been made.”

Bruce may not have gotten the picket fence dream, but the two of you could add up to something better.