Author's Note: Hello! Welcome! If you haven't read my other story, Sága, yet, you might be a bit lost. I would recommend reading that one first. If you have already read it, and for some reason decided to check this out too, then thank you so much for being wonderful and lovely and everything that is good in the world.

This is going to be a collection of episodes mostly centering around the relationship between Dr. Bruce Banner and my OC, Sága. They probably won't be in chronological order, so I'll try to remember to tell you when it takes place in the timeline. This one in particular occurs about a month after the Epilogue of Sága, several weeks before Christmas.

I'm really nervous about this one. I really hope you like it. I would love to hear what you think, or any ideas you have for future episodes! I fully intend to (eventually) incorporate all suggestions that I've received, because I love you guys!

Episode One: The Doctor is In

"Where do you think you're going?"

The sound of Tony's voice from behind the bar surprised him, and Bruce looked up from the tablet on his lap. Sága must have just walked into the lounge, and was shrugging into a thick brown cardigan. It was still a bit strange to see her in jeans, and he recognized this sweater as one of his. They shared a closet, which was nothing of an inconvenience since neither of them owned many clothes at all. Pepper regularly took her shopping; but Sága had a simplistic and practical taste in clothing, and seemed to greatly prefer Bruce's sweaters over anything else anyway.

"I'm going Christmas shopping," she answered Tony, slinging her purse over her shoulder.

"With who?" Tony pressed, sounding for all the world like an overbearing parent.

She sighed, throwing a glare his way. "I am not a child, Stark. I am much, much older than any of you, and I am perfectly capable of doing my own shopping."

"She'll be fine, Tony," Bruce spoke up, hoping to put an end to their bickering before Sága drew her sword and threatened Tony's life. Again. "She's gotten the hang of it by now."

Sága grinned triumphantly. "Thank you! See? I'll be fine." Tony huffed and crossed his arms in a pout, but didn't say anything else against it. Grin still in place, Sága hurried over to the couch Bruce was sprawling on, leaning over the back of it to kiss him on the cheek. "I'll be back before you know it," she promised, heading for the elevator.

"Are you taking a cab?" Bruce asked. It was a valid question; Sága often teleported to wherever she was going, popping up in an alleyway or abandoned building near her destination and walking the rest of the way. She said it was more efficient, and that cars were much too slow to suit her, but Bruce worried that she might be seen.

Sága was very fond of her privacy, but the media was rabidly determined to meet her—especially so now they'd figured out that the woman who was spotted teleporting and fighting in footage of the so-called "Battle for Manhattan," was the same woman Tony Stark had hired as head of security for Stark Tower.

"Actually, I think I'll walk," she informed him. "It is surprisingly warm out today; I would not want to waste it."

Bruce chewed on his lip nervously. He didn't like that much better, honestly. "Alright. Just…be careful, okay?"

She laughed softly, placing her chin in her hand and smiling at him from within the elevator. "You are so sweet. You know that I will. Don't worry about me."

He smiled in response as the elevator doors slid closed, trying to hide the nagging feeling in his gut that this was a bad idea. He told himself that he was being ridiculous; that she could handle herself, and that she could be back at the Tower in the blink of an eye if anything did happen. He was just being selfish and possessive, wanting to keep her here, with him, at all times. Perhaps the other guy was having more of an influence on him than he realized.

Bruce removed his glasses and rubbed his eyes, trying to focus on the words and figures on his screen.

Sága had said something, back on the helicarrier, about how SHIELD's work with the Tesseract had signaled other planets and somehow attracted the Chitauri. Lately, he'd been poring over Selvig's notes about the cube, trying to find something that would indicate such a signal going out. If he could find that and understand how it happened, then perhaps SHIELD would be able to prevent such a thing next time they got it into their heads to tinker with some other piece of alien tech they'd found.

But after hours of reading, the lines were beginning to blur. These couches were too comfortable for their own good, and he was so tired…

He laid his head back on the armrest and closed his eyes, just for a minute…

"Excuse me, sir, Dr. Banner. We have a problem."

Bruce snapped his eyes open at the urgency in Jarvis' voice, only to find Stark approaching his face with a felt-tipped marker. "What the hell do you think you're doing?" he asked, his voice thick from sleep.

Stark hurriedly hid his hands behind his back and stepped away, feigning ignorance. "What's the matter, Jarvis?"

"It's Ms. Sághildr."

Bruce lurched forward and to his feet as the screen spanning an entire wall of the room ignited into life. It was split into four different images, which appeared to be the live video feeds from several security cameras, all focused on the entrance to Bergdorf's. For half a moment, Bruce wondered how Jarvis managed to access these cameras, or if Tony had managed to install the AI in every building in the city; but he didn't have time to stop and wonder at the program's resourcefulness.

On the screen, a massive crowd of a hundred or more had mobbed the entrance to Bergdorf's, even blocking a lane and a half of traffic. People were getting out of their cabs to see the commotion. News vans were everywhere. Police cars were screeching to a halt, sirens blaring, the officers sprinting to aid the small team of security guards trying to force the mob back, away from the doors, away from a figure with familiar white hair…

Away from Sága!

"Jarvis, what the hell?" Stark demanded. "Where did all these people come from?"

"It appears that her location was posted to Twitter," Jarvis answered, opening the social media site and scrolling rapidly through a list of related posts—500 and counting. "She has quite the following. This account," Jarvis began highlighting all posts by an account titled 'WhiteHairedAvengerChick', "has initiated this event, suggesting that they all converge to meet her."

"Awesome, she's a pop culture icon. So why doesn't she just teleport back here? Is she signing autographs or something?"

"No, look!" Bruce corrected, pointing. Sága was bent over with her elbows on her knees, her hands over her ears. "There's too many of them. They're too close, and too loud; she can't focus."

Jarvis zoomed in on her, and Tony sucked in a breath. The other guy was enraged at the look of distress and fear on her face. He nearly burst through Bruce's skin, wanting to make them all suffer for frightening her.

"Shit, we need to go get her," Tony muttered, hurrying over to the panel in the wall where he kept a version of his Iron Man suit. "Let me get changed, we'll get there fastest if we fly."

On the screen, a glass bottle sailed over the crowd. Bruce watched in horror as it struck Sága in the face, shattering upon impact. Almost instantly, the mob of eager fans dissolved into an all-out brawl.

"No," Bruce ground out, his entire body shaking as he let go of what little control he had, "Too slow."

Hulk wracked through Bruce's body, ripping through his shirt with ease, lengthening his bones and expanding his muscles in a matter of seconds. Jarvis barely slid the doors open in time before Hulk was surging through them, launching himself off of the balcony of Stark Tower. Banner knew where to go, so Hulk did, too. He ran across rooftops and leapt off of buildings, until he finally crashed down in the middle of the street outside of Bergdorf's.

Cars swerved to miss him, laying on their horns, but Hulk simply roared back at them. He wanted to crush the puny metal boxes, but Banner told him no. Sága first. Smash later.

A few members of the crowd heard the roar and turned, screaming as they tried to run away. Banner was glad they ran. He was afraid that Hulk might hurt someone. Hulk wanted to hurt them, but Sága needed his help. Even more than he wanted to smash, Hulk didn't want to let her down. So he shoved his way through the crowd, roaring so more of the puny humans would run away, pushing them out of the way as gently as he could, until he reached Sága and picked her up in his arms and held her close.

She threw her arms around his neck and buried her face in his chest. Iron Man eased himself into a landing beside him, patting Hulk's arm. "Nice save, big guy. Can you take her home now? I'll try to deal with the media."

Hulk nodded with a forceful grunt. He didn't like the way Sága's body was shaking, or the fact that her face was wet against his chest. Banner would know what to do, so Hulk would take her back to the tower, where Banner could make her good again.

Hulk jumped into the air, clinging to buildings with one hand while keeping the other tight around Sága. She held on to him, too.

Sága trusted Hulk. Sága wasn't afraid of Hulk. Sága didn't want to hurt Hulk, or Banner, or Tony. Sága needed Hulk now, so Hulk would help.

Hulk jumped back to the balcony of the tower, carrying Sága through the only set of doors big enough for him to fit through. He set her down inside, on the same couch Banner had slept on earlier, and saw that Sága's face wasn't just wet, but was also red.

Hulk knew that was the wrong color for her face to be. He wanted to go back and smash those puny people who scared her, but the wet red stuff was bad. Sága needed Banner now, so Hulk would have to wait. Smash later.

Bruce felt his body shrink back to normal size; the pain of his muscles tearing and bones breaking was almost as welcome and familiar as an old friend by now. He gasped for air, forcing himself to remember how to breathe with such small lungs. He was overcome by a wave of dizziness, swaying slightly, but it passed quickly. He unscrewed his eyes, falling to his knees in front of Sága.

Her eyes were wide and unseeing, her pupils tightly constricted to the size of pinpricks. Shards of glass were scattered over the right side of her face, blood smeared over her skin and on her hands and, now, on his chest. Her entire body was quaking uncontrollably.

"Sága, dear?" he asked softly, "I need to clean you up. Will you stay here?" After a lengthy pause, she nodded her head yes; but she gave no more response than that. Bruce kissed her forehead before rising to his feet, jogging over to the elevator. He rode it down to his room, pulling on a new shirt and pair of pants before grabbing his doctor's kit and running back upstairs.

She was still sitting in the same spot, not seeming to have moved. He went to kneel in front of her again, wordlessly pulling supplies out of his bag. He cleaned the blood away from her hands and face first, allowing him to see the glass more clearly. His own hands were shaking, and he took a deep breath to calm himself and still them enough to remove the glass with tweezers. To his relief, the cuts were shallow, albeit many. Twenty-four shards were pulled from her skin, and she didn't even flinch.

"Sága, hey, look at me," Bruce demanded, grabbing her shoulders firmly. "Come on, dear, you can do this. There you go…" She blinked, slowly but surely, her pupils beginning to dilate as she tried to focus on him.

"…Bruce..? Oh, Bruce!" She lurched forward, her hands scrambling forward to grab him and pull him close and hold him there forever. Her fingertips briefly brushed against his temple; Bruce gasped as his vision suddenly swam and shifted and changed.

He wasn't sure how he ended up facedown in the dirt, or why, or where this crowd of leering, dirty children had come from. They were all shouting at him, screaming in a language he couldn't begin to make heads or tails of. One particularly tall boy towered over him, an arrogant grin on his face and a malicious gleam in his eye. The boy raised his foot, pulling back and aiming a kick for his face.

Bruce kept waiting expectantly for the other guy to take control and protect him from the blow, hoping that he would somehow manage to not harm these children.

But it never happened, and the boy's booted foot smashed against his face. Bruce's vision burst into light, and he felt numb. He was filled with dread, knowing that he should be feeling unspeakable pain, but there was nothing.

But then the rest of the children rushed forward, punching and kicking and screaming; and with them came the pain.

After far too much time, his eyes began to close and his consciousness began to slip away from him.

With a gasp, Bruce opened his eyes. Sága was now staring at him with wide eyes, her hands clamped over her mouth. "I'm sorry," she whispered, the sound barely escaping her hands, "I am so sorry. I didn't—I didn't mean to do that."

"What was that?"

She lowered her hands from her face, wrapping her arms tightly around her own waist as she shrunk back into the couch. "I'm sorry. I didn't—"

He pulled himself up into the seat beside her, pressing his hand against her unmarred cheek. "That was…you, wasn't it? A memory?" She closed her eyes, leaning into his touch and nodding her head gently. "And…how did I see it?"

She placed her hands on his, holding it even closer to her cheek before answering. "It is a trick that I have," she told him softly, her fingers gripping his. "It allows others to see what I see, though it's never…I've never done so with a memory before. It would seem there are aspects of my magic that even I am unaware of."

Bruce pulled her into his lap, pleased when she tucked her face into the crook of his neck, the shaking of her body finally stilling. She ran her fingers over his chest as he buried his in her hair. For a long time, they sat there in silence. He kissed the top of her head before asking his next question. "Who were those kids?"

She sighed. "The children of the village I grew up in were…not fond of me. Nor I them. I was…different, in a time where different could only mean evil." She sat up straight, preparing to tell her story, though her fingers never left his chest. "My father was once rather, um, young and arrogant. He did not care for Midgardian marriage rites; he and my mother were considered wed according to the laws of Asgard, and that was all that mattered to him. Unfortunately, the same could not be said for my mother's family, who happened to be the rulers of their clan. She was sent to live with distant relatives when she became pregnant with no husband to speak of aside from her claim of a god. When the child she birthed had dark skin, she was banished and disowned. But the rumors followed wherever she went."

Bruce frowned deeply. "And your dad just let this happen?"

Sága shrugged. "Asgard was at war. He could not afford to visit us as often, or watch us as closely as he later did. And my mother was too kind-hearted to speak ill of her family, or to upset him. She told him she had moved away intentionally. Father never knew the truth until many years later."

Bruce didn't know what more to say to that, so he just pulled her close again. She smiled and leaned against him.

"How bad do I look, Dr. Banner?"

He chuckled, ruffling her hair. "You look as beautiful as always."

"Oh, you are so sweet," she murmured, brushing her lips against his stubble-covered cheek.

Very, very gently, he passed his thumb over her right cheek. Her skin twitched in a slight wince; he hated to see her hurt, but was glad that she was finally reacting to the pain. "With the way you heal, these should be completely gone in a day or two."

"Thank you. And thank you for coming to get me. How did you even know I was in trouble?"

"Jarvis told us. He was looking out for you."

She looked surprised, but thoroughly pleased. "Oh, thank you so much, Jarvis!"

"You are quite welcome, Ms. Sága," the AI responded, sounding thoroughly pleased with himself.

"What, don't I get any thanks?" came Stark's voice from beside them. Sága whirled to grin at him as he lowered himself heavily into the opposite couch. "I had a whole media shitstorm to smooth over, especially since big and green decided to make an appearance. You started quite the spectacle."

Sága's grin faded, and she hung her head. "I am sorry, Tony. I never expected such a thing to happen…"

Bruce glared over her head at Stark. He really didn't need to make her feel bad for something that wasn't her fault.

Tony rolled his eyes, throwing his hands up in the air. "Hey, look, it's alright. I'll do something outrageous in the next week; they'll forget this ever happened."

She frowned deeply, glancing up at Bruce. "I just don't understand it. What were they even doing there?"

"They wanted to see you," he answered with a shrug.

"Me?"

Tony laughed. "You don't even know? You've got quite the devoted following. The world's been dying to meet you, but the combined forces of Pepper and Brucie have held 'em back until now."

She looked upset and uncertain and slightly frightened by such a revelation, burrowing further into Bruce. "But why would they be so interested in me?"

Bruce chuckled. "Because you're fascinating, and mysterious, and beautiful all rolled into one."

She flushed a deep red, staring at him in wonder. Stark, however, groaned, rising quickly and heading behind the bar. "Ugh. You guys need to go somewhere else if you're going to get all lovey-dovey. Save the rescue sex for the bedroom, alright?"

Through her blush, Sága grinned shyly. "That can be arranged," she whispered, her white magic pouring out of her mouth and swirling around them as Bruce smirked.