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[Bruce is so not impressed with this attitude. In fact, he might come across as mildly impatient.]

It's not that kind of fight. It's more... metaphysical. So far.

[He doesn't sound thrilled about that, either.]

[ He's not wearing the glasses and his hair's different again, but after all these years, she would recognize him anywhere. Though after their last less than pleasant parting, his cavalier attitude annoys her. ]

Is that why you're here?

[Bruce's mental perception of Betty as gentle and soft-voiced makes it so that he's not looking for her features in this woman. Of course it's not Betty. (So far, not doing any better than her Bruce on that one.)

He also, however, doesn't realize that she's a Hulk, because he's never seen another one. He hasn't even really seen himself as the Hulk, given lack of video footage. So her demand takes him aback for a second, but only a second. He's getting used to people recognizing him.]

Probably not. I'm not, uh, any better at the metaphysical. Learning. [Reluctantly learning, but he is.]

You know me?

[ She may be familiar with traveling to alternate dimensions, or whatever this place is, but she hasn't figured out that there are people here from other ones. The kedan, sure. She accepts them as the natives of the world. But familiar faces? This one familiar face? She thinks he's the Bruce she knows.

And his sudden onset of amnesia is infuriating.

Her eyes narrow, the glow intensifying with her anger. ]

You know damn well I do.

[Wow. Bruce has been doing so well at not getting into confrontations lately. Apparently that streak is up.

Visibly uncomfortable, he answers,] I don't. We're from different versions of reality. Things are, pretty different for me. [Everything he's learned about other versions of him has been faintly horrifying, so he feels confident saying that.]

I've never met a... red woman.

[ In a more logical - namely Betty - frame of mind, she could accept what he's saying and make the appropriate conclusion: he isn't the Bruce she knows. With her ire up and logic something of a distant memory, it just sounds like the lamest excuse she's ever heard. ]

Red Hulk. We can't all be green.

[ There's bite to the last word, like she thinks he's calling her less than she is. Because she does. ]

[That's so the farthest thing from Bruce's mind-- comparative superiority of different colors of Hulks. The fact that that word has a plural is something he's had hinted at to him before, once. His reaction had promptly shut down that avenue of conversation.

But now he can't avoid it anymore, and it's impossible to miss his shock, or how his eyes widen and he's suddenly staring at her much more closely.] What? [His heart lurches painfully, like it's physically skipped a beat, and Bruce reflexively glances down at his wrist monitor to check the number even as his mind is racing.

It's fine, he's breathing well enough now that he's not going into the danger zones, but sudden shocks are not his friend.]

You're-- you're a-- How is that possible? [The numbness wears off quickly, and Bruce is left with his thoughts whipping through the logical implications.] They've never been able to replicate the reaction I had to the radiation, and they've tried.

[Even as he says that, he realizes he can't make assumptions here. If it were his world, he'd immediately think that it was the military finally succeeding, that she was a volunteer. But Bruce can't assume that. He has so few of the facts and absolutely no context; everything he knows is wrong, the solidity of knowledge that he's come to depend on, and it's this, right now, months after his arrival, that Bruce finally starts to feel upended and like he's in a different world.]

[ Maybe it's because of how long she's known him, but to her, Bruce is a terrible actor. And this looks like genuine surprise. Of course, she's talking about Hulks. The Hulk, in a roundabout way. It's only natural that that gets a reaction out of him. It's the only thing that ever matters to him. ]

Ask Samson and the Leader. They're the ones who did this to me.

[ She's half tempted to change back into Betty. Science isn't her thing. She isn't a mindless brute, but the intricacies of the explanation he probably wants is a little beyond her. It's only a partial temptation, though. She still isn't sure she doesn't want to punch him. ]

No one's ever been able to duplicate the exact amount of gamma radiation to make another like Hulk. That's why I'm red. Samson used cosmic radiation too.

[Don't worry, Betty, he's going to have a major reaction when he finds out who you are.

This gets even more incredulity.] Samson? Leonard Samson? Wait-- but, cosmic rays don't have anything to do with electromagnetic radiation. That's just a historical misnomer. That would cause a totally different effect. [This is so not clearing up his confusion any.

Bruce does realize that he can't expect the science to start making sense any time soon, or the people, apparently. He breaks off from staring at her to give a gusty exhale, bringing a hand up to scrub across his face, his characteristic gesture of stress.

He hasn't missed her comment revealing that it wasn't consensual for her to be made into a Hulk, either.]

Never mind. I shouldn't be expecting this to make sense. [He corrals that trace of sarcasm and drops his hand, trying to reorient himself.] But this is just, unbelievable. I know he can-- I know he talks more in other worlds, but I couldn't picture it. I still can't.

How are you this calm?

[ Oh, she hears that sarcasm. Standard Bruce Banner smarter than thou bullshit. It grates on her nerves now, ratchets the anger up another notch. It tangles her voice into a snarl. ]

It doesn't make sense because I wasn't myself when it happened. I couldn't think. I was just... [ A puppet. A weapon. ] And then all his equipment got destroyed, so it wasn't like anyone could figure out how it worked afterward.

[ She isn't stupid. She knows that she isn't. She saved the whole damn world not too long ago. Stupid people can't do that.

She takes a deep breath, forces her hands to relax, and tries to remember how to have a civil conversation. Maybe he's not the Bruce she knows, but she sees far too much of him in his superior attitude. ]

I've known you a long time. I've learned the tricks. And it's not the same for the rest of us. Once we realize who we are, it gets easier.

[It's easy to freak out and take some of it out on her when he's thinking of it in broader terms, but the way she says that she couldn't think, that she wasn't herself, when it happened... It sets off a red flag. Makes it personalized, ironically human. Bruce sobers, frowning, at once strained and contemplative.]

You're right that it's not the same, [he admits.] Because that's not who I am. [But it's a reflexive disagreement, not a truly combative remark, and Bruce doesn't want to focus on it.] I'm making this conversation private. [It's an instinctive paranoia that he doesn't bother to suppress, and it's not more than a few quick keystrokes for him to set up the encryption.

As he does it, he ends up turning over that statement about her knowing him a long time.] Who are you? [Bruce asks finally, unable to resist any longer.] You're not just a... a Hulk. Who are you when you're not red? Or does it not work that way?

[Is even that much different? Being stuck as the Hulk is possibly the worst fate Bruce can think of, even if she seems more at peace with it than him.]

[ It's not really that surprising that he wants to make the conversation private. Just because everyone knows who he is doesn't mean that he likes to air his business in public. Bruce doesn't. Didn't. It's difficult to accept. After everything, she wants to believe the worst of him. That it's just another game, pretending not to know her for the sake of making his life easier. But that's the anger speaking, not rationality.

Her rational mind, still present under the current of emotion, tells her that he isn't lying. He doesn't know her. This is another dimension. It's possible that he's the Bruce Banner of this world. Or another. There's more than one. She knows this.

Grudgingly, she decides to believe him. If he's lying to her again, it'll come out. It always does. ]

No. I can change back. It's not as easy, but I can do it.

[ She just doesn't want to. ]

Ross. That's her—my name. Elizabeth Ross.

[That's a huge relief, more than she probably appreciates. It's a totally different situation if she's able to change back at will, compared to his. Still awful, but not as fundamentally horrific.

Then she says her name and he literally can't believe what he's hearing for a good few seconds of silence. The words drop onto deadened ears, until they start to sink in, and that's worse. Bruce goes visibly pale, and if he'd been holding something at that exact second, he'd have dropped it. As it is, he freezes, then abruptly starts searching her features desperately, looking for something familiar.]

Betty? [he whispers, and the worst part, the very worst, is that now that he's looking for it, he can see it.] How could this have happened to you? How could I-- he-- let this happen? You, you of all people shouldn't... [Shouldn't be a monster.

Bruce fumbles over his words, his heart racing, overwhelmed. Everything at once is just too much. It's Betty, he's finally seeing Betty again in a place where they can be together, but it's not her. Not his Betty. And she knows who he is but seems to resent him, for some reason that he can't fathom but is sure is justified. Bruce is simultaneously sick with guilt at whatever he must've done, and angry, growing angrier, at that other him for doing it. He doesn't technically share any of the responsibility for that Bruce's actions, but he feels like he does, in part. It's confusing, but it hurt Betty, and he can't abide that.

The anger is deepening as he remembers that she's already said it was done against her will, by Samson, and someone called the Leader. Bruce writes those names into his mind indelibly. If he ever sees them, any form of them, he'll make sure they regret it; and he doesn't care about the consequences.

But he doesn't want to take that out on her. He can't. Not her.]

Are you okay? [he asks abruptly, switching gears. The honest concern in his voice is so clear it shades into worry, an expression that sits naturally on his face.] You said you'd been here a few days. You're-- you're alright? Why are you still, like that? [Being in Hulk form should be a response to threat, in his mind.]

[ So he does know who she is. But he doesn’t recognize her as a Hulk. Once upon a time, when Betty still believed in happy endings, she would have never been able to conceive of a world in which she too had a large, angry alter ego. Now, that alter ego struggles with grasping a world where she doesn’t exist. Where there is only Betty: poor weak and defenseless Betty. Insofar as she can feel sympathy, she feels it for that woman who doesn’t know what it’s like to be strong or unafraid.

She also feels confusion, though that’s for herself in the face of what appears to be genuine concern from Bruce. She remembers that the one she knows had been surprised to find her changed, but other than that, he hadn’t really seemed to care. This one cares. She can’t begin to fathom why. ]

I told you. It isn’t as easy to change back. [ A few minutes ago, it would have been snappish and impatient. Now it’s softer, matter-of-fact instead of harsh and irritated. ] And she’s weak. She gets hurt. I don’t.

[ For all the control she has, the two halves of herself are not as integrated as her father’s are. It’s easy to slip back into separate pronouns and is even more so when she’s off-balance. He’d asked another question, and as she remembers it, the embers of her anger, just beginning to cool, abruptly flare again. Her eyes flash, but this time it isn’t at the man in front of her. ]

He wasn’t there to stop it. He was too busy playing king of the aliens with his alien queen to care. [ That’s an oversimplification, but it’s the important part to her. Betty can tell him the details if he wants to know the rest. ] It’s a long story, Bruce. She can tell you. She’s… better at telling stories.

[It's somewhat jarring to hear her speak like he does, where they're separate people, but he has to admit that so far she hasn't acted much like Betty at all. Maybe when she does change back, she'll act more like what he expects-- Bruce has to hope so. The thought of contending with a combative, blunt Betty just doesn't fit in his worldview, and it would be painful to talk to her and think the whole time about what she's lost.

At the same time, he's not about to challenge her disassociation from the 'human' form of herself. Bruce is in the odd, unprecedented position of being on the other side of this conversation, listening to the pronoun choices and realizing that he doesn't have the right to impose his views on her. On how she sees herself. He resolves right then not to do to her what has been done so many times to him, where others try to convince him of a certain perception of who he is. Betty should at least have that.

(And it hurts something, somehow, to realize that however much difficulty he has adjusting to this form of her, he knows he can't do anything but accept it-- accept every part of her. As he's never been able to do for himself.)

But then she's going on and he doesn't even know what to say to that.] An a-- alien queen? [His composure dissolves into something near flabbergasted, then constrained irritation.] Maybe I shouldn't hear this story, [he mutters, thinking of how hard it'll be to keep down the resulting anger he's sure will come.

Bruce shakes his head, trying to clear it.] Wait, we're doing this all of order. Can I-- [Suddenly hesitant, more reserved and tentative than she's probably ever seen him.] Can I see you? It's been... God, it's been five years since I saw her, and I know you're not-- her, but you're, I don't know. You're still Betty.

[That's what it comes down to, for him. What it will always come down to. Betty has, through her actions, attained a free chance from Bruce, any incarnation of her, something so unspeakably rare as to be singular. Even here, with all the ways she's different, she hasn't done anything to make Bruce think of withholding that chance.]

[ More than the surprise or the apparent concern, it’s the fact that he wants to see her that convinces her that he’s not the Bruce she knows. After five years, that Bruce would probably have forgotten her name. This one sounds as if she still matters. Not even the Betty he knows and yet still she matters.

The little things are always the catalyst. Because the little things are rarely as little as they appear to be. ]

Yes.

[ There’s a shifting inside her, the silent observer standing up and stepping forward. Unlike Bruce and Hulk, she and Betty are not at odds with one another. She is Betty and Betty is her, even if they haven’t quite managed to make the transition to one whole person yet. And instead of hating her human self, she cares for her and wants to protect her from all of the ways life can and will hurt her. Betty, as far as she’s concerned, has been through enough. But when Betty makes a decision, she abides by it.

The change is immediate, one form blending into the other so fast that there’s hardly anything at all to watch. Her clothes shrink with her, the black uniform made from the ever popular unstable molecules, and then it’s just a brown haired woman looking at him from the other side of the console. ]

You can see me too. [ A small smile – the hesitant smile of one who doesn’t know how well received her presence will be – passes over her lips. ] Hi, Bruce.

[There it is. That's the reaction he's been waiting for from himself-- all of the many conflicting emotions that come with seeing Betty. He'd known it was her, but hadn't really known, not until she's suddenly looking so much like what he expects and giving him a smile that's even more familiar.

Some part of him is taking mental notes on the smoothness of that transition, looking for clues on how it seems to work for her, but Bruce isn't listening to it. Because she's here and maybe she isn't that much different, when she's not a Hulk.

It's hard to sort out his feelings, the pain and longing from the relief and simple happiness, the confusion and anger over her circumstances and how she isn't his Betty. Bruce can't imagine he'll ever see her, though; and he can't help but think of Tony's identity crisis over being the 'wrong' one. He resolves not to make her feel like a replacement.

His expression seems to crumble, all of his defenses torn down, leaving him vulnerable and struggling to breathe-- and somehow shy, the way she always makes him, watching her because he can't bear to look away but slightly hunched over.] Hey, [he says back, acknowledging the awkwardness, even as he offers a returning smile. Clumsy and slight as ever on him, lined with sadness, but a smile.]

It's... nice to see you. [The pained sincerity in his voice can't be doubted.] I, can't be glad you're trapped here, but I am, a little. [Very soft, like a confession,] I missed you.

It's okay to be glad I'm here. [ Her voice is soft and encouraging. ] I am.

[ She hasn't been here long enough to learn about the cloning or any of the rest of it. She doesn't know there's probably no going home. But even if she did, her feelings wouldn't change. Her father has the Avengers and his robot girlfriend. Her team is too new to really be hers yet and she knows they'll carry on without her. There's nothing for her back home, and even if she can't go back, she can still go forward and see the multiverse.

Plus, Bruce is here, looking sad despite that awkward smile. He's not her ex-husband, but that's hardly a mark against him. He seems... nicer. Saner. The way he'd been years ago when she'd first met him. And she knows that she isn't the Betty he knows; that it's that woman he misses, not the one he's looking at now, but that's okay. She understands being lonely and if he's anything like the other, he's been alone a long time. ]

I've missed you too. [ That's not a lie. She has missed him, she just hasn't let herself acknowledge it before now and she doesn't think he'll use it against her. ] Do you want to get some coffee? Or something like it if they don't have it here? Maybe something to eat? I haven't eaten in... I don't know. It's been a while since I was me.

[That sounds even more like her, and Bruce is relieved to hear it, that something about this insanity might be normal. That she's missed him, too, is a consolation. He doesn't know her, not really, but he thinks he knows her enough by proxy that this means something. Bruce should be cutting himself off, trying not to let her grow as important to him as his Betty is, but that would necessitate hurting her. Something he can't do, especially not when the evidence of how much he-- the other him-- has hurt her in the past. It's clear as day, and the guilt might be misplaced, but that doesn't mean he's going to continue that precedent, either.

Ultimately, Bruce has just never been able to say no to her. Any version of her, apparently, in regards to anything.]

There's tea, [he offers. It's concerning to hear that it's been a long time since she was herself, making Bruce wonder what has been threatening her. And what he can do to take care of it.] I can-- where are you? I'll come find you. [He's already half rising out of his seat, prepared to set off that very instant.]

We'll get something to eat, and we can... compare notes, I guess. It's not that dangerous here. You should be safe to stay like this.

The Earth Sector. Um…

[ She glances away from the console, like she can see the outside of the door from where she’s sitting. It’s an automatic motion, and for a few seconds she stares blankly at the wall. What was the number? ]

One? [ That sounds right. She looks back at the screen and repeats it, feeling more confident in the memory. ] One-A.

[ She hasn’t been outside in the city in this form. Since she arrived, this is the first time that she has been Betty. But she’s willing to trust his assessment of the city. ]

I’ll be waiting.

[ There’s the faintest hint of emphasis on that I, letting him know that she’ll be waiting. Not the Hulk. ]

[Bruce would never put her in danger, of course. He can even see the point of what she'd mentioned, that as a Hulk she was far less vulnerable, and although he doesn't-- can't-- consider that a fair trade off for the rest of what that means, Bruce does appreciate that he doesn't have to fret about her safety while she's here quite so much. It might not be dangerous now, or even normally, but it has its moments. For one thing, he needs to warn her about those archways.

That can wait until he sees her in person and they've settled somewhat, however. He nods, standing up, but pauses halfway through the motion to reach forward and disconnect the conversation. She looks so much like what he remembers that it seems a physical effort to tear his eyes from her. She feels like a ghost, a mist that will vanish when he goes to look for her, taken from him again, even in this form that isn't quite what he's looking for.

Bruce takes a silent breath, and he can't quite tell himself that he's being ridiculous, because it's not out of the realm of possibility that she'd disappear this fast. Or that something would happen to her. But it is unlikely, and that's as good as he'll get.]

Fifteen minutes, [he promises, grateful that Earth is so close to Fire.

Then he's finally turning it off, no more goodbye necessary, unwilling to play that game with himself about whether this will be all he gets. Bruce grabs his keys and is out the door, striding quickly. The whole way, he can't seem to get a handle on what he thinks of this, of her. Or of what he's going to do.

All he knows is that he needs to see her, and that much is indisputable. It's all he's thinking as he knocks on the door, quiet.]

[ Turning off the console, Betty stands and for a moment, simply looks around the room, uncertain and aimless. She has fifteen minutes and she doesn’t know how to fill them. There’s nothing to tidy up; she hasn’t spent enough time in the apartment to make a mess that would need cleaned. She might go change, but she doesn’t have much else and she doesn’t know where they’re going or what the dress code might be like.

More than that, she’s nervous. She hasn’t seen Bruce – any Bruce – in what feels like a long time and the circumstances of their departure weren’t exactly pleasant. This isn’t the same one, but she doesn’t know the history between this one and his Betty either. She doesn’t want to inadvertently make something worse for him.

In the end, she fills the time by washing her face, brushing out her hair, and generally trying to make herself look less ragged and wild and more presentable. Then she hovers by the door, and when she hears the knock, she takes a deep breath, pushes her hair out of her face, and opens it.

He’s taller than she remembers. And thinner. Getting food was a good idea, she thinks, already falling into the old habit of worrying about him. But she smiles at him, genuinely pleased to see him. ]

Hey. Long time no see.

[Bruce lets out the breath he's been holding when the door opens and he sees her. The physical immediacy of it is overwhelming for a moment, and then he's smiling helplessly at her.]

You have no idea, [spills out before he can control it, wry. But then, Bruce has never tried to contain himself around Betty, not really. He just made sure he didn't direct the more darkly negative of his emotions at her.

It's strange to see her in what amounts to a black sleeveless catsuit, but he's not really in a position to quibble. There's a moment's awkward beat as he takes her in visually, and then Bruce tries to recover. (Tries.)]

There's a-- a place not far from here? Kind of like dim sum. And tea.

[ It’s a little awkward, but she knows that it could be so much worse. They could be shouting at each other. It’s happened before. They could be changing, hurling insults at each other between hurling pieces of furniture. That’s happened too. Some staring, which she can’t pretend she isn’t doing any more than he can, is nothing. ]

You’re the expert. At least, I’m assuming you are. You sound like you’ve been here long enough to get familiar with the place.

[ That’s something she should have asked sooner, she realizes. How long has he been here? He said he hasn’t seen her for five years. Because of this? ]

Really, that’s fine. [ Her lips quirk into a wry grin. ] So long as it’s not weird monster bugs, I’ll enjoy it. I promise.

A few months now, [he admits.] Just a very busy few months. [And wasn't that an understatement.

Bruce can't help a raised eyebrow at that comment, but he's taking a step back to let her out of the apartment, nodding to indicate that they're leaving.] It's definitely not... weird monster bugs. It's only a little off from East Asian.

[Maybe he shouldn't be surprised at how easily they fall into a rhythm with each other, like he always had with his Betty.]

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private -- encryption 60%

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