Bruce rubbed his eyes wearily. He gingerly picked up his coffee cup and took a sip - everything had to be done gingerly these days, lest he break something accidentally. He was used to it now though; it had become second nature to check his strength in everything he did. The Hulk was a very strong fellow.

He turned back to the computer screen and sighed at the endless lists of folders and files that he still had to sort through. Archiving was no mean feat. But it had to be done. If the Avengers were going to take their responsibility seriously to protect this precious new world, they had to get themselves organised. No past mistake would be overlooked and repeated. They had to be better. They had to make the sacrifices worth it.

Bruce took another sip of coffee and double-clicked the next file. He was going through the quinjet's records. This was probably going to be another one of Clint's standard pilot reports. Checking in. Coordinates. Retro-reflection still working. Roger, Out.

His heart suddenly leapt in his chest when a female voice came through the speakers. Soft, concerned, commanding and just a little be desperate. This was the voice that had brought him home. All those galaxies away, pushed away from the steering wheel by 'the other guy'...it was her voice that had brought back Bruce Banner.

He'd forgotten how Nat's hair used to be all red and curly. The way it framed her face and brought out her eyes. Bruce couldn't help but tear up as he gazed into her eyes through the screen. She was begging him to come home.

"We can't track you while you're in stealth mode."

His hands curled into fists. The table beneath the computer screen suddenly had two new dents in it.

"Turn this bird around."

If only he had...what would have happened then? What sort of life could he have had?

Bruce shook his head angrily. 'What if's would only make it hurt all the more.

The video suddenly cut out, and Bruce realised that this was the moment that Nat had been cut off by none other than the Hulk himself. She was begging him to come home and he'd hung up on her.

He couldn't even go find her and apologise. He never had, he realised. There was so much that he'd never said to her, and now she was gone.

"I miss you, Nat," he whispered at the blank screen, a single tear running down the green skin of his cheek.