tushanshu | Video;

[ And if he hadn’t been busy, she thinks that he would probably already be fluent in the language. Whereas she, on the other hand, will probably need quite a while before she’s ever comfortable trying to read it, much less use it. She’s hardly an idiot, but she’s not a genius either.

Which is why she finds herself momentary speechless at the notion that the other version of her actually worked with Bruce. Not just puttered around the lab and brought him coffee. No, things like big help and new set of eyes points toward the fact that she actually knew what he was working on and could contribute to it.

It makes her happy for him, that he’d had someone he could trust and rely on to help him with his work so that he wasn’t alone. But it also makes her feel a little guilty and useless now, because he thinks he’s getting a colleague, a brain, a second set of thoughtful eyes. What he’s really getting is a spy and a field operative, a Hulk, a lot of brawn and not much else. And he’s already got that covered.

She’s thankful for the number of things that can legitimately be said to catch her eye and give her an excuse to look elsewhere just as much as she’s grateful that she’s following along behind him so she doesn’t have to deliberately look away. ]

So she’s like you? A scientist?

[This Bruce isn't quite so much a justifiably egotistical, limitless genius. He has a healthy dose of humility to him, and he has to stay within the reasonable expectations of reality with his results. That means learning complex foreign languages at the drop of a hat just isn't one of his skills. He'd even struggled with Portuguese.

The other consequence of his humility is that he doesn't place so much value on intelligence in others. Bruce is perfectly aware that sometimes it's more of a curse than a blessing, and no one needs to be a scientist to contribute something meaningful.

He's vaguely surprised at her question, somehow having foolishly assumed that this Betty would be the same in that respect, and as he settles into his chair he looks at her directly with open, curious eyes.] Cellular biologist. We worked together on a project for... the general. [Using Betty's preferred term for him out of respect for her.]

I'm guessing you aren't? [There isn't any weight to the question, just curiosity as Bruce pulls the menu toward him, flipping to the tiny, badly translated English page at the back. A concession to their foreigner population, who seem to mostly speak English.]

[ Taking the seat opposite him, she glances at Bruce once before shaking her head. Her fingers pluck at the edge of the table as she wishes that she had something more interesting to tell him. A curl of irritation threads through her almost immediately afterward. All the progress she’s made forging her own path and this easily she starts to backslide into feeling less about herself just because she isn’t what he needs.

It’s enough to goad her into lifting her head to look at him directly. She can’t say she’s particularly proud of her past, but she did the best she could. Her voice is steady and calm, her expression neutral, as she talks about it. ]

No. I’ve worked with my father before. And my ex-husband. We’ve both worked with him more than once, but I’m not a scientist.

[ Of course, that leaves her trying to explain what she was and she pauses to try to sort all of that out into something that makes sense. Some of it’s still a jumbled, hazy mess, thanks to the addition of the Hulk’s perspective. ]

Before I was changed, I was a secret agent. I did a lot of spying on the organizations that were after the Hulk. Afterward, I was more of a freelance saver of the world.

[He's somewhat taken aback to have Betty be at all confrontational with him. She's still reserved, not picking a fight at all, but there's an undeniable element of confrontation to her stance here that he can't ignore. It's hard to see for several reasons. One is what it implies about her relationship with her Bruce, one is just that it's difficult for Bruce to see any Betty direct that at him at all, but mostly, more than anything, it makes him miss his Betty more than ever, with a sore ache in his chest. They have such a smooth understanding between them, that even after years of not seeing each other, they hadn't missed a beat at all. They'd settled into each other's presence without more than checking in with each other, considerately making sure they were both still on the same page.

He notices the ex-husband and has to wonder at it, but isn't about to touch that topic with a ten foot pole. So far they haven't tried to approach what they mean to each other, how that would transfer or not transfer, and Bruce doesn't want to. He has no clue how to navigate that minefield without betraying Betty, either one of them. It's just as well to continue on with the precedent they've set, of treating each other as important strangers.]

A secret agent? [That gets his full, and faintly disbelieving, attention. His eyebrows raise way up, trying to align that with his mental perception of Betty and struggling. This one is definitely different.] I can't... wow. I mean. I've never doubted Betty could do whatever she wanted, but she-- hasn't been that involved. In the whole mess.

[Frankly, he prefers it that way, but he's getting the strong sense that he shouldn't say that here.]

That’s probably for the best.

[ Not for herself, necessarily. She enjoys the freedom that comes from being a Hulk. But if she’d been asked before the procedure? If someone had told her that she would one day become one of them? She wouldn’t have believed it. And she wouldn’t have wanted it either. ]

Getting involved gets you killed. And sometimes it gets you turned into a Hulk.

[ She gives him a lopsided smile, then reaches for a menu. She’s got a feeling that she’s making him uncomfortable and she can’t say she blames him for it. It’s got to be hard, seeing someone who looks so familiar and isn’t anything like what’s remembered. ]

I’m glad she got to do something different. I think it says a lot about the place you come from. Good things, not bad ones.

[That solidifies his decision to keep her uninvolved. Not that Bruce needed the affirmation-- he's fully committed to letting Betty live her life without him and all the tragedy and violence that he brings-- but hearing it from another version of her, that it's for the best, cements it. Any wistful thought he'd been entertaining of hoping she'd show up here, his Betty, is decisively suppressed. She deserves better. She always has.

Better than him, wherever that leaves him left behind.

It's in this darkening mindset that she implies that where he comes from is a good place. Maybe it is, compared to hers. Maybe it is for everyone else. But Bruce has a lot of repressed bitterness, and he distracts himself from aiming it at her by ostensibly scanning his menu.]

It's better for her, [he finally manages to say after a somewhat stilted pause in which he'd wrestled down that bitterness.] That's why I haven't seen her. Why I was so... shocked to see you.

[His fingers don't tighten on the menu. His jaw doesn't clench. He doesn't rail against his fate. Bruce is resigned to it, that sad cast returning to his eyes, some of his height hunching over unconsciously in his more normal posture.]

I saw her once in the past ten years, and all I did was-- upend her life again. It's not safe.

[ She can practically feel the change come over him. It’s one she recognizes, though the source of it is somewhat novel. Usually it’s talking about the Hulk and his current status in Bruce’s life – non-existent, existent, altered in some way – that precipitates it, but she’s coming to learn that his Betty plays a larger role in his life than she had to her ex-husband’s. ]

Life isn’t safe, Bruce.

[ Setting the menu down, she lays her hands atop the table, one folded over the other, and looks at him. There’s no judgment in her eyes, no disapproval or disappointment, certainly no anger. But she’s far from timid and she isn’t afraid to speak her mind. ]

I’m not her. I don’t have the same experiences so I can’t speak on her behalf. But I can tell you that it isn’t up to you to decide what’s better for her. It’s up to her.

[ She’s never been reticent about voicing her feelings to him, and even though he isn’t the same, she finds that it’s easy to do. ]

And if she feels even a fraction of what I do, then what she probably believes best for her is having you in her life. That’s not the same thing as being unsafe.

[ There's a world of different between the level of Betty's involvement and in what it sounds like her counterpart has. ]

[Bruce is well acquainted with the fact that Betty will speak her mind, it's just not usually aimed so pointedly at him. She knows he'll listen to her with far more consideration than he gives anyone else, so she doesn't have to be as strident. Only this Betty apparently doesn't know that.]

I know, [he admits, giving up the pretense and setting his menu down. More than anything, he looks tired, and maybe a little lost.] I know she hasn't given up on me. Sometimes it's all that... gets me through it.

But the first thing I saw when I -- when I woke up that first time, was her in the ICU. I did that. I can't do that to her again. [The agonized certainty in that declaration is indisputable.] I, I tried at first, to contact her a few times, but Ross always traced it and-- There's always collateral damage when he finds me.

[Bruce finally looks up directly at her, meeting her eyes again, sober and starkly lacking self-pity.] I don't get to have what I want. Not without someone else paying the price.

[ She understands what he’s saying. Their experiences aren’t the same, but they’re very similar. She remembers how it was for Bruce right after the accident. But his conclusion, that he doesn’t get to have what he wants, makes her sad too. In a way, he’s right. Her ex-husband’s life was filled with nothing but pain and tragedy. Whatever he gained, he quickly lost, though that was often as much his own fault as anyone else’s.

This one, though. This one is different. He shouldn’t have to bear the same burdens of the other. ]

I was there after the accident with the gamma bomb. I spent years at his side, or as close to it as he’d let me get. I’ve seen what he and Hulk are capable of. I’ve had more than one run-in with the Abomination. I saw what happened to Leonard Samson and Samuel Sterns. I saw how hard it was for Jennifer when she became She-Hulk.

[ She leans forward slightly, resting her elbows on the table. ]

But Bruce, when it happened to me, I had no control over it. They turned me into a weapon and used me to kill people. All those years watching him struggle with the Hulk and I couldn’t do anything to stop it. I didn’t even know who I was. My father went through the same thing. I don’t know how many people died before he got it under control.

[ And they haven’t really had time to sit down and talk about it. Not that she thinks they ever will. ]

You can’t blame yourself or what happened the first time you changed. It was unprecedented. You didn’t know that was even possible. You couldn’t control that. Hulk couldn’t control it either. No one could.

She's alive, Bruce. So are you. That's what matters.

[The way she lists off names isn't helping. It plunges him further into a vague sense of numbed horror at the reality she's from, at how many people this has happened to. At what she's had to endure. He doesn't know what to address first, can barely wrap his brain around it-- and part of him, a strong part, wants to make a snapped remark and walk off to order, ending this conversation.

One thing she said is ringing in his ears, preventing that. Rising above all the incredulity and frustration over how many had been exposed to the radiation, over the discrepancy between the Hulk's origin. They turned me into a weapon and used me to kill people. Betty. They'd done that to Betty, and Bruce hadn't been there to stop it. It's impossible to hold himself accountable for the fate of every Betty across every universe, but that doesn't alter his shame and mounting, boiling anger at that other him who let it happen.

The fact that he's sure the other Bruce feels the same way about himself isn't any consolation.

So he snaps back, he can't help it, but he doesn't walk off.] I can blame myself, [he says tightly.] She should be able to expect more from me than not getting her killed. That's not good enough. [It's just not. Not for someone like Betty, who deserves so much better. He knows how isolated she can feel with her mother gone and her father there but even more removed. Bruce had tried to fill in that hole, as she'd done for him.

This was where it got him. Where it got her, this Betty that would be as much a monster as he is if it weren't for that Betty didn't have that capacity in her.]

I'm sorry that happened to you, [he says, audibly agonized, unable to hold it in any longer. His hand reaches across the table to instinctively rest on top of hers, but he catches himself halfway there, fluttering in the air, the movement aborted as he waits visibly for permission.]

It's my worst fear, [he goes on quietly.] That there would be more made. That it would be you-- You deserve so much better than that, Betty. I'm sorry I'm never able to give it to you.

[ She should be able to expect more from me than not getting her killed. The snap she takes with the calm unflappability that comes with having been on the receiving end of such sentiment often enough that she become desensitized to it, but it’s what follows that elicits a reaction. It isn’t much. Just a slight tightening around the corners of her eyes and the slightest, almost imperceptible flinch. But it’s a reaction none the less. Not at him. She’s hardly afraid of him.

But she knows what it’s like to die. She’s felt the sickness spreading, eating away at her body with inexorable patience. The Abomination’s gamma-irradiated blood. Inoperable cancer. The rush of blood from the sword Skaar drove through her body. She’s died. She’s been close to death many more times since. But it doesn’t get easier to accept, and just for a moment, she contemplates letting the Hulk out.

She doesn’t. The stir that would cause in a place like this, to say nothing of what it might do to Bruce, prevents her from taking the final, necessary step. But it’s a consideration. One that she doesn’t realize is quickly becoming a crutch. ]

It’s not your fault.

[ Having seen that aborted movement, she reaches out to take his hand, closing cool fingers around his. It’s been months since she’s touched him. After their last parting, she never thought she would do so again. ]

I don't blame you. I don't even blame him. You don’t have to apologize to me and you certainly don’t have to blame yourself for this. I know it sounds bad, but there are benefits. I’m stronger now. No one has to worry about me. And no one can use me to make anyone else vulnerable. [ She gives him a small, albeit sincere, smile. ] I can do the protecting for once.

[It's been so long since he's touched Betty that it's nearly disorienting to have it happen now, a hope grown dusty with disuse, made worse by the fact that it's not exactly right. It's her, and it's not her. The sentiment behind what she says is piercingly familiar, exactly the same, but the way she says it and her overall manner are different. Her life, her history, are different, and that most critical thing that makes him let down his guard around Betty isn't here-- her soft spoken lack of pressure, her silent and total understanding and acceptance. Gone and impossible between two people that haven't spent years sleeping beside on another.

Yet it's just enough the same, and Bruce is already growing to appreciate her for her own merits, that it gets to him. His fingers closely tightly around hers in an unconscious spasm. He controls his expression as best he can, but is unable to prevent some of the fierce ache of missing her from slipping through.

She should blame him. She should. But Bruce knows Betty. He knows that's a losing battle for him to fight, and it's one he's never wanted to win, anyway.]

I'm still going to worry about you, [he admits ruefully.] I'm sure you don't need it. [A moment's pause, as he looks into her smile, before he adds,] And you've always done your share of the protecting.

You're really-- not that different, that way. [Bruce has no illusions that Betty had always protected him as much as he'd protected her, and she truly had the harder job: protecting him from the demons in his mind.]

[ Looking at him, feeling the way his hand tightens around hers, she can’t quite prevent herself from wishing that the other Betty was here in her place. Maybe she wouldn’t be as useful to the kedan in their war effort since she wasn’t a Hulk, but that woman would help Bruce far more than this one can. She can read the way he misses her in the way he touches her, in the expression on his face, in the things he says, and for his sake, she wishes that he could have gotten what he wanted.

She can’t trade places with that other Betty; she doesn’t know how and she doubts the kedan would go for it even if she asked them to switch them out. What she can do, however, is keep him safe and see that he gets back to her. And maybe she can help him along the way, help him find peace with the Hulk and with himself enough that he can feel free to be with her when he does return.

Betty thinks both of them deserve that much. ]

I don’t need it, you’re right. [ Her tiny smile grows a little larger, becomes shaded with a playful, teasing kind of humor. ] But maybe it won’t be so bad being on the receiving end of it.

[ And he’s right about protecting him too. She always has. This time, however, it won’t be quite as subtle as cloak and dagger espionage. ]

And you — [ She squeezes his hand, still smiling. ] — had better prepare yourself. I think it’s going to be a little different this time around. You’ve never had another Hulk protect you.

[ He’s had Hulk, of course, but she knows how antagonistic that relationship is. Even her ex-husband couldn’t see it. But she could. ]

[There's a lot of things Bruce could say to that, soured, dark things about why he'd want any Hulk to protect him. But it's Betty, and he's never been able to unleash that on her. Never wanted to. It might be true, that how much he outright loathes his other half has made it impossible for him to think of any other universe's version of it, whether himself or anyone else, with a positive light-- but it's even more true that he can't think that of Betty.

She'd seemed abrasive. Focused on fighting, perpetually angry. But altogether more coherent than Bruce would have ever expected, and she'd changed, gone back to human, merely at his request. Bruce doesn't want Betty to protect him, doesn't think she should need to have to, but he won't deny her it if that's what she wants.

The urge to kiss her hand is sudden and overpowering, and also inappropriate. A learned response Bruce has learned on the wrong woman. He smiles just slightly, mostly down at the table.] I don't actually need that much protection here, [he prevaricates, slipping his hand from hers because he can't keep tempting himself with that closeness. But he takes the sting out of it by stroking his fingers across her palm as he detangles them, making the motion affectionate even as he retracts his hand.]

Maybe we could... just spend time together. Without all the, the worrying and protecting. [Bruce shoots her a quick glance, checking to see if she'd be okay with that.] Figuring out who each other is.

[ She doesn't buy it. Maybe it's not outwardly apparent, or even a consideration to the people who know about the Hulk, but Betty thinks that Bruce needs more protection than most. Not just from the countless lunatics and enemies that the Hulk seems to make at every turn, but from himself and the memories that haunt him. She knows all about Brian and Rebecca. She's seen them and the power they hold over Bruce. Whether he's ever appreciated it, which she doesn't think he has, or noticed, Betty's been protecting him for years. And just because this one isn't the one she married once upon a time doesn't mean that she intends to stop now.

But she withdraws her hand when he pulls away and drops it down onto her lap, accepting the barrier of distance he's put between them without comment or complaint. ]

I don't mind. I don't think... [ She pauses slightly, never really sure how to talk about the Hulk. She is the Hulk and the Hulk is her; the severe disconnect during those first few months is gone. But her control is a finicky thing, and sometimes she doesn't always feel like they're the same at all. ] Earlier, I thought you were him and our final parting wasn't very, um, amiable.

[ That's a mild way to put it. Her lips twitch in an awkward smile. ]

I know better now. I won't be so... [ She waves a hand, trying to explain the hostility and mistrust without giving them words. ] ...with you anymore. Sorry about that.

[The irony is that it's essentially the opposite from Bruce's perspective. His Betty has no idea about his parents; as far as he knows, she hasn't even guessed. He hasn't given her reason to, has never allowed that conversation to go any deeper than shutting it down as gently as he could. Yet he has no doubt whatsoever that she's protected him from it all along, without ever knowing what it was. Betty knows that no one's as haunted as Bruce is without reason; she's just never needed to know that reason to stand between him and it.

It's one of the many, many things he loved about her. Made it impossible for him to forget her, no matter how long it'd been. Betty had left an indelible impression on him, given him the only sparks of hope he'd ever felt about his isolation. He knows keenly how much she does for him.

Bruce is skeptical that this Betty would have done any less for her Bruce, which is one of the main reasons it makes him so silently incensed at the implication that he's been ungrateful.] I wouldn't be all that amiable if you'd run off with an alien queen, [he says dryly, limiting himself to that bit of sarcasm.]

Don't worry about it. [He makes an aborted gesture with his hand, feeling empty after having held hers and let go.] I'll go order? [They should probably stop taking up a table without buying anything.]

[ That comment gets a wry little chuckle out of her, soft and under her breath. She knows that she shouldn’t mind her ex-husband finding happiness with Caiera, and in a way, a part of her doesn’t. As far as he knew, she was dead, not being brought out of stasis and being turned into a Hulk. But as far as she knows, Bruce never waged war on the world in his name, though of course she’d never want him to. And most people get private divorces; Bruce had broadcast his being over her to the entire world.

It still hurts. Because she wasn’t dead. She isn’t dead now. And he’d given up on her just the same. But she also appreciates this Bruce making a joke about it. She would much rather laugh than cry and feel sorry for herself. ]

Sure.

[ Reaching into her pocket, she pulls out a handful of the strange money she was given upon arrival and holds it out to him, hoping it's enough and having no real clue. ]

Just get me whatever you’re having. You know the local cuisine better than I do.

[He shakes his head at the money, already getting to his feet and refusing it.] I got it.

[It's not chauvinism, it's just that Bruce has been here for a while and gets more of an income from Stark Industries than he really knows what to do with. He'd intended to spend it on equipment for work, but Tony-- the last one-- had given him a separate department budget, so he hadn't even needed to do that. Bruce wasn't about to make her spend some of what little money she had on arrival when he could easily cover it.

As he stands, he reaches carefully into his shirt pocket and pulls out a folded piece of newspaper, which he places on the table in front of her.]

Just thought you might be curious, [he says simply, and is already moving away, heading over toward the order counter. Leaving behind what is easily his most prized possession with her: his picture of Betty, grainy and indistinct but smiling in her lab coat as she stands in front of a chalk board. The caption reads something about her work at Culver University, and the newspaper is lined and creased with handling.

Anyone else, showing that to would come with a slightly anxious warning about not losing it. Not damaging it. Bruce just sets it there for her and trusts that she knows how important it is to him without having to say a word.]

[ She accepts the offer with a nod, not feeling strongly enough about asserting her ability to pay for herself to go through the bother of fighting over it. Besides which, Bruce seems to want to do it. There’s a sadness about him that all of the tiny smiles can’t erase, and if this in any way helps him, she’s willing to take the kindness for what it is.

Her attention shifts from him to the paper he places on the table, but he’s already moving away when she glances up again, the words fading unspoken on her tongue. Betty’s eyes slip back to the paper and the photograph it contains.

The caption beneath the picture isn’t necessary. One glimpse is all it takes to tell her who it is she’s looking at, and with careful fingers, she picks it up to get a closer look. This Bruce’s Betty Ross. A professor at Culver University. It’s not as clear as it could be, but she can see the woman well enough. She’s beautiful, and Betty thinks that the two of them must look good together. Right. But she’s presumably still there at Culver, or at least in another world, and Bruce is here in some other dimension far away from her.

Betty looks at the picture nearly as long as Bruce is gone from the table, but shortly before he returns, she delicately folds it again. He loves her. This Bruce loves his Betty Ross enough to carry around a reminder of her.

That in itself is motivation enough to see that he finds his way back to her. ]

[It'd be far more effective to have her come here in terms of getting to be with her, a fact that hasn't escaped Bruce. He'd even discussed it, in couched terms, with Annabeth last week. Despite all the drawbacks of being here, the benefits for him more than outweigh that, and he'd have to be a lot more self-deluded than he is to have missed it. If Betty were here, there wouldn't be any reason they couldn't be together. Live together. Work together.

The fact that it's probably not going to happen, and instead he gets half-taunted and half-appeased with this other version of her, hasn't escaped him either.

Bruce tries not to think about it too deeply as he places their orders, and short minutes later returns to the table with them. Fried and steamed finger food never takes that long. There's one big plate with an assortment of dim sum on it, and after he sets it on the table, he picks up the picture again even before he sits. It's carefully and deliberately returned to his pocket.]

You don't look exactly the same, [he comments out loud, addressing the elephant in the room as he settles into his seat, breaking his chopsticks apart.] You definitely recognized me, though.

[He can't help being somewhat curious.]

[ It isn’t until he’s settled, and the picture is once more stowed away in the safety of his pocket, that Betty reaches out to pick up the second pair of chopsticks. There’s no way she’s risking something happening to it simply because she hasn’t had a meal in weeks. It’s too important to him. ]

You don’t look exactly like him either.

[ She snaps the chopsticks with a twist of her wrist. This isn’t the first time she’s had Asian food. She’s eaten with the things before. ]

You’re taller, which I couldn’t tell on the video. Your hair’s shorter. Not by much, but it’s not quite as long as his was. You aren’t wearing glasses and he almost always wore his.

[ As she talks, she looks him over again, gaze scanning his hair and his eyes – the same color – and his expression. ]

Your eyes are the same color, though. And your face is almost the same. Someone less familiar with him might not have made the connection so fast, but I’ve met another Bruce Banner from another dimension. There were a few subtle differences then too, but… [ She shrugs. ] I’ll always know who you are.

[It's interesting hearing the differences, though he's somewhat self-conscious about being scrutinized so closely, even though he'd asked for it.

Bruce eats a few potstickers while she talks, just to give himself something as a distraction. Her final comment earns her a lop-sided smile, freer with her than he is with anyone else.]

I can put my glasses on if it helps, [he quips.] They get damaged too much when I wear them all the time, and they can be hard to find. I haven't had a real proscription in... I don't know. Since I used to live with Betty. [Normally it's difficult to force her name out of his mouth, but somehow it's the easiest thing in the world when he's looking directly at some form of her.

This unsolicited offering of information, an explanation behind one of his inexplicable habits, is another privilege granted to her solely because of who she is.]

I'd say I should've recognized you sooner, but, uh, I don't think I can be blamed. [He'd never in a million years think to look for Betty's face in a Hulk. He tries not to look for her face at all.]

No, I don't blame you. [ She shakes her head with an understanding smile. ] I don't recognize myself like that and I know it's me. [ A moment's pause, then she rolls her eyes. ] Most of the time.

[ It's still a work in progress, but it doesn't cost her anything or upset her to talk about it. This is her life now, whatever she might think about it. She accepts it. She has to. ]

And you don't have to wear your glasses either. You look good like this. It's okay to be different. Trust me. I know.

[ As far as Betty's concerned, the last thing he needs to be is more like the man she knows. ]

No, it was just a joke, [he reassures her.] Everything I've heard, I'd rather be different. [No question about that.

But he has to admit some fairly intense curiosity about how she operates with her... other half. In his mental narrative, he still has difficulty applying the word Hulk at all, to himself and much less to Betty.]

You don't mind talking about it? Your, uh. Being red. I don't want to press, but I'm, well, I'd have to be dead not to be curious.

Me? No.

[ Smiling, she shakes her head and reaches for one of the potstickers. In marked contrast to the Hulk, she's dainty about taking a bite, knowing that her other half would have shoved the whole thing into her mouth already. ]

I'll tell you anything you want to know. As much as I can, anyway. There are still some things I'm not all that clear on and some memories are a little disjointed. But for the most part, I think I can give you some decent answers.

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