AN: This little piece, I wrote it ages ago, but didn't post BECASUE school took over my life for a while. But I'm almost done with the semester and I figured now was a good time to post this.

So, this follows the idea that Bruce returned to the Avengers after doing a bit of soul searching, Natasha and the team forgave him and no pesky civil war occurred. So basically, my little happy AU where the avengers still work together and BruceNat is an actual thing.

One thing Bruce truly admired in Natasha, out of the many things and qualities the woman possessed, was her strength. It was the first thing he had come to know about her, to admire in her. She had many skills, as she had once joked, many of them she wasn't proud of, many others no one knew about (except for maybe Barton), but her strength shone on its own. At first, it was the physical aspect of it which he awed, how she actually made the Captain sweat whenever they sparred, or how she would always boast about beating Clint at something. But she was as physically strong as she was mentally.

The few times he had seen her crumble and fall, she had never spoken about them afterwards. She had once had confessed to him, in the dark of the night, both of them nursing cups of warm tea as they sat on the Tower's rooftop, seeing and hearing the noises and lights New York City offered; how it had been connected to her past. Her eyes had faded and gotten lost in a memory, and Bruce had seen real fear in her eyes for the first time in years.

Moments like those were scarce, and even now, after everything that had happened, she still couldn't talk about many things. She still evaded talking about her past and preferred to focus on the present, on making good and on enjoying the life she had gotten to live.

Bruce was well aware of what could potentially damage Natasha. He had spent enough time as her partner in combat, as her friend, and lover, to feel confident enough to say he knew when she was seriously hurt or injured.

It was a notion, that while Bruce had somehow managed to master, the Other Guy still had problems identifying.

Bruce first became aware of the Big Guy's soft spot for the red headed Avenger on one of his first code greens, when out of everything which had happened, the only things Bruce remembered with clarity had been Tony firing a tank and Natasha zooming on her bike, kicking ass and shouting at Clint to duck. And after Bruce found himself caring deeply for the Russian spy, the Other Guy had also found himself protective over the small human. It was a brute's reasoning, but the Hulk didn't have much intelligence or sense of evolved judgment.

He had warned Natasha after one mission, both exhausted and resting against each other on the Quinjet. She had a mild wrist sprain and his back had decided to not cooperate with him that day. They both had been tired, but not overly so, still smiling and joking with Clint and enjoying calling out Tony on any bullshit he managed to muster up.

"I felt him." He swore. Quiet enough for only Natasha to be able to hear.

"If you and Stark have been smoking pot, I want in." She responded, a subtle smile on her face.

She made Bruce chuckle, low and barely audible, but she heard it and made her smile in return. Their backs were touching, their faces turning away from each other, but they rested comfortably, enjoying how the touch and warmth of the other filled them with a sense of tranquility, something which both appreciated after a tiring mission.

"Nat, this isn't a joke."

"Nothing's ever a joke with you when it comes to the Big Guy." She threw back, her voice less teasing.

"I'm not saying that it's serious or that I'm going to stop helping out there. But I felt him roaring in the back of my mind the moment you fell down the quarry. It didn't matter that he knew there probably wouldn't be a code green. I felt him, Nat."

She then turned, softly and making sure to not strain his back even more. Bruce was a tough man, one who loved to amuse himself with self-deprecating humor, and could take more than enough punches and never complain.

"But he didn't show up, you controlled his impulses, you knew it was fine." She told him, her voice firm, but laced with a caring and an understanding Bruce always felt lucky to receive from her. She locked her eyes with his, making sure her message got through to him. It had been months since his last accident, and even longer still from the events in Africa. His control was better than ever, and she trusted him more than anyone else on the team.

"Besides," she added, turning again, making sure his back lined up with hers, effectively relieving him of his pain. "I think it's sweet, that the Big Guy worries."

Bruce quirked his brow and tried to turn his head to look at her. The only thing he managed to catch a glimpse of was of her face, relaxed, with her eyes closed and just a hint of a smirk on her lips. So he returned to his original position and rested against her, trying to mimic her relaxed features and failing at it.

But this time it wasn't a sprained wrist, but it wasn't a life threatening injury either. They were gathering Intel on one of the organizations they had sniffed out which could possibly be plotting against the remnants of SHIELD and the Avengers initiative. The room was small, but neither of them had worried over the possibility of a code green or accident occurring. It was supposed to be a quick, in-and-out mission.

Natasha hacked through the system and fed the Intel to Bruce, who read it over and decided if it was good to keep or rubbish. They had been going steady for several minutes when a bang was heard, the doors blasting open as three or four men came into the room, all guards, all armed. Bruce was fine through the blast, fine through the several gunshots fired with no particular aim. He ducked behind Natasha as he tried to gather information on the subjects who were suddenly attacking them. He felt the Big Guy grunting and wanting to do more than just count out bad guys, but Bruce knew how to control him, knew how to reason with the fury and the rage within him.

It was a stray bullet, one which grazed her shoulder. The wound wasn't deep enough to stop her, but enough to make Natasha grunt in pain and then kick the bastard who had shot her.

Her grunt and the sight of her injury, made Bruce's hands shake for the first time in almost two years. Bruce fought and tried to reason with him, but the green guy was winning, he didn't want to leave Natasha to fight alone, had had enough of bad men injuring the red woman.

As Natasha disabled the second and third man, she heard his growl, his desperate plea. She turned towards were Bruce was on the ground, his body contracting as he tried to stop the transformation from happening. Her eyes widened, more in shock and worry than actual horror.

"Bruce!" She shouted, but it was too late, the Hulk roared and crashed the server which she had been hacking, destroyed the equipment Bruce had brought along and proceeded to knock the rest of the guards unconscious with a single blow.

"Hey Big Guy!" She shouted, noting how the Hulk's attention was fixed on the bodies of the fallen guards and on the door's remains, as if he were waiting for more to come in.

Natasha was breathing hard, recuperating from the quick fight. The Hulk huffed at her, it wasn't angry or threatening; it was - protective.

Maybe it was because she hadn't seen the Big Guy since Sokovia, maybe it was because the last time she had seen him, he had still felt like a foreign force to her. He seemed different, less threatening and more like someone who truly was in tune with the world. It was as if the threatening force that had once been the Hulk was now simply - a force.

A great force who seemed to think she needed protecting.

Natasha found a second in which to wonder whether she felt offended or flattered by the sudden need to protect.

"Hey!" She tried again and was glad to see the Big Guy turning towards her, his features calm, as if he truly did know who she was and what was happening around them.

He gave a grunt which was more a question than anything.

"We're ok." She paused. "I'm ok."

Another small huff.

"Think you can calm down?" She asked, her face on his, watching how he obeyed her, how his huffs became less forced, more -human.

"Think you can let Bruce come back?"

The Hulk tilted his head as if he were analyzing the situation, as if he wanted to make sure everything was safe before turning back into a less strong human.

"I need him."

It was instantaneous, how his face gave in, how his body relaxed and started to shrink. Natasha went to him as soon as she saw the transformation begin, not afraid of the still enormous figure. It was Bruce, she wasn't afraid of him, no matter what form he took.

Bruce came back in her arms, the first sounds he could hear again were Natasha's words as she informed HQ of the present situation.

"Nat-"

"Hey big guy." She greeted, a little and tired smile on her face, her hands going over to his face, gently and adoringly caressing his cheek.

Brue hissed as he tried to stand up by himself, "I don't feel so big right about now."

"What do you feel then?" She calmly asked, before hissing out to the comm. "Stark, gimme the Quinjet's location, now!"

"I feel - soar." He hissed out, his back aching again, his legs trembling a bit.

But Bruce got up on his own, grateful for the pants he had managed to keep on. Natasha led him out of the destroyed room, through the debris left from the blast.

"Wait, what about the -" Bruce started, all of a sudden remembering what he had been doing before the incident. The reason they were inside the building.

"You really think that's the only platform into which I was downloading all that crap? Thought you knew me better than that, Banner." She threw at him, her humor being enough to distract him as she took him past the guards he had just taken down. Bruce had changed through the years, but his dislike for violence was a constant Natasha didn't see disappearing any time soon.

"You're too smart for your own good. Have I ever told you that?" He sputtered, dodging a piece of ceiling which came down at them.

Natasha pushed him out of the way and steadied him, a frown of worry appearing on her face. She looked at him then, took in his shattered clothes, his unfocused gaze, and his debris-filled and smeared appearance.

"No." She answered, pushing him once more, just in time to dodge a bullet. She was quick and took the man down. As Bruce grunted and got back to his feet, Natasha swiftly turned to assess the Big Guy wouldn't be making an appearance. Once she was sure no green giant would be arriving to complicate an already messy extraction, she called out in her comm. Her voice was sharp and even a bit cross as she shouted at the men who were supposed to be clearing the perimeter.

"But you have trusted me with your lab and I think that vouches for my intelligence." She added once she had managed to successfully lead them out of the building and into a clearing. It was a risky move, but she trusted Clint when he had told her to head East.

Bruce nodded along, hissing a bit when the sun reached his eyes. He stumbled in his stand, suddenly feeling dizzy and a migraine coming on. It had been years since his last forced transformation, his body wasn't used to the kind of strain it use to go through.

"Come on, Bruce."

He followed because her voice felt like soft velvet against the blasting noises he could make out in the background.

Natasha tended to him as she had done years before, making sure he didn't over stress or fall asleep when there was a possible concussion. Clint briefed her over the comm on how things were going inside, while she instructed him on how to hack the last file she had been interrupted from getting.

Bruce groaned as he sat down on his chair, the world spinning, his muscles aching, his head pounding.

"You could have stayed here, you know. I told you, you didn't have to go in. I know you hate it when you have to end up running because Clint messed up his intel -which of course never happens."

They both chuckled, but he stopped first, his head screaming at him now, his pain increasing exponentially by the second. Natasha could tell, by how his face contorted, by how his eyes shut close and how he didn't even try to hide his discomfort from her.

"Bruce," she tried calling him, softly, wanting to not cause him more pain than he already was going through.

He opened his eyes, his brown orbs meeting her green ones. His apologetic, hers concerned.

"What happened?" It wasn't accusatory, or a question she needed an answer to. Natasha knew what had happened, had seen it in the Hulk's eyes as he had tried to protect her. But the question was a way to open up a conversation with him, something to take his mind off the pain.

"I'd told you. I can feel his rage." He got out, pausing, before adding to it. "He - doesn't particularly like it when something happens to - the red woman. It doesn't matter what I tell him, or what I know."

He turned to look at her then, finding her observant, attentive, not at all like the offended woman he thought he would witness.

"Truth is, you're the only thing we seem to disagree about lately."

Her confused stare made Bruce chuckle and remember he had a migraine building up. But he needed to tell her, needed her to know.

"You're the strongest person I know and I admire and know your strength. He seems to view you as his number one priority, his mission. He doesn't register a lot of things, of my feelings or thoughts. And the only thing he seems to register when it comes to you - is that you must be protected." Bruce finished with a blush and with his eyes scanning the ground.

Natasha never took her eyes off him, wondering how she came to know and be with such a wonderful man. Because here was a man who was in the most intense pain he had probably ever suffered, and his main concern was still for other people, for the damage the Big Guy could do.

"We all need protecting one day or another. And I'm glad that the Big Guy has my back."

"Thing is, the more I watch you get hurt, even if it's just a small injury, I feel him getting more and more irritated, as if he's angry at me for letting these things happen to you. I can't - I can't go on like this. I want to help, but - and I thought I could - I had -"

"Hey," she interrupted him. She moved towards him, her voice louder than before, firmer -but never angry, distressed or accusing. She wanted his attention back. So she took his face in her hand, caressing his cheek and enjoying how he covered her own hand with his as he finally looked up at her.

"It's ok, Bruce. You do have him under control, he is just stubborn; that is all. In fact, he reminds me of someone I know, at times. He usually hogs the bathroom in the mornings and is beyond obsessive over his different vintage microscopes which he still hasn't let me use."

"He came out and he defended. He appeared and I was able to talk him, to tell him that it wasn't necessary, that I was fine. And do you know what? He listened."

Bruce eyes changed then. He was still hurting, Natasha could tell, but his mind was put at ease. A spark of wonder and of triumph shone in them.

"You listened, Bruce." She kissed him then, it wasn't long, but it lasted just enough for both of them to relax, to remember that no matter the things which happened when on a mission, their lives were so much more.

"I shouldn't have gone, I should've listened to you. I could feel him getting restless."

"If there's one thing I've learned in the past few years of my life, is that your past doesn't define you, and that you shouldn't let it haunt you. It happened, it was something which you had no way of predicting."

"I did." He tried to blame himself.

"No, you didn't."

Bruce sighed against her, resting his head, their foreheads touching.

"How are you feeling?" Natasha broke the silence a few seconds after.

"Better." He got out and surprised himself when he realized it was true. His body still ached, but it seemed his head decided to settle for a mild headache instead of the blinding migraine.

"Good. The Big Guy isn't the only one who over worries whenever someone they care about goes out on a mission." She offered, a small and honest smile on her face.

"It's a good thing I'm rarely out there, huh?" He chuckled out.

"You're a valuable member of the team Bruce, you've always been. Not just the Big Guy." She stepped back as she said it, wanting to see him properly.

"I know. I've accepted that, long ago." His eyes drifted as he answered, and Natasha knew he was thinking of his months of absence when he had finally cleared his and the Other Guy's minds and had realized, he was not only requested by the team, but required.

"You need to be careful. And I don't mean with the Big Guy. I mean you. I trust the Other Guy, I like him. It's you whom I love though. And it's you who I want to come home at the end of the missions, and it's you who has to make sure nothing happens to you. Because if something happened to you, Banner. I fear for whoever is near me."

Bruce stared intently as she spoke, taking her sincerity in, acknowledging that it hadn't just been him the one who had gotten worried and scared. The process always drained him and left him weak, disoriented and vulnerable to assaults and threats.

She wasn't scared, not like he knew she could get whenever she informed him of a dangerous job she had to finish. But she was worried, concerned for him.

"I'll be as careful as ever." He answered, his voice sincere.

"Good." She answered back, standing up and talking into her comm, informing Clint that the rest of the team could now return to the jet whenever they felt like it.

Bruce raised his eyebrows in amusement as he watched her deliver the news, enjoying how she mimicked his expression.

Natasha rolled her eyes, switched off her comm and went over to plant one more kiss, a brief one, one in which she felt him smile against her.

"Love you." He whispered as they separated. Natasha chuckled, stole a last kiss from him before giving him her answer.

"You're a dork, Banner."