It just seems that upstream I keep rowing

[dayswithoutincident]

Manage your expectations. It's a simple enough concept, but one a lot of people struggle with, and Bruce Banner is no exception. There's a trick to it, of stepping apart from yourself and finding true objectivity, of having the strength to recognize your own weaknesses and strengths.

What Bruce hadn't realized until recently, however, was that when it came to his own life, expectations involving any degree of reasonable normalcy were so far removed that they might as well have been on another planet. Another planet in another universe, actually, but only if it was one about fifty trillion lightyears away and at least ten thousand years from producing anything resembling intelligent life.

At this point, Bruce isn't sure what reasonable expectations for the average person would even consist of, but he's pretty sure he can rule out accidentally tripping through wormholes to alternate dimensions. What he's also sure of is that it says a lot about him (and how much time he's been spending with Stark) that it hadn't shocked him much to step out of his bathroom and find himself at Pocket Universe Inn. He has colleagues who use robotic suits and giant hammers to fly; it's probably past time to redefine what 'normal' means.

Not that it didn't occur to him that he should probably be a little worried about the whole benevolent way station vibe of the place. There's apparently some kind of celestial philanthropist of unknown motive providing his room and board, but overall it's calm and quiet, and there are dozens of ways out. He hopes it doesn't come to it, but if all else fails, he can take a running leap into the abyss. It's more than he can say for where he came from.

This is his third day, and he's still deep in the thrall of new discovery, a quiet figure skirting awkwardly around other guests on his way outside. On the lawn he pauses, face upturned like a child. The view of the sky is still breathtaking, the infinite cosmos bending around their little island like a stream parting over a stone.

Comments

[shes_biochem]

Simmons has come to realise that she only unearths herself from her room and Fitz for the basic necessities and that's absolutely no way to live. She needs to find some sort of life-work balance again that doesn't consist of her spending every moment with Fitz wondering if she can somehow speed along his recovery against all odds. She's always liked standing on the lawn and looking up into the universe, finding it as troubling as it is soothing.

Today, though, it also comes with a familiar face.

It's also one that's always made her a bit wary. She'd always been glad to not be of a level where she would run tests on Dr. Banner, given the reputation the man has. The only trouble is, for all her fears, there's also fascination and a desperate desire to talk science with him and right now, she's too tired to be sensibly cautious. "Isn't it amazing?" she says, perhaps a bit eager. "I tried mapping out some of the galaxies, when I first arrived, but I don't know that they're any I've ever read about in books or online, before. It's only a shame I can't name them."

[dayswithoutincident]

"No, I don't suppose they would be," Bruce says with a glance her way. His smile is a small thing but genuine, his eyes above it wary but keen, the expression of a man whose natural inclination is to withhold despite himself.

"They might not have a name yet," he offers, knowing well enough a driving need to quantify the world around him. "How long have you been here?"

[shes_biochem]

"This most recent return, it's been a few weeks," she admits, given that the presence of medical technology that can help with Fitz is a needed thing and with the absence of S.H.I.E.L.D. and their resources, she's gravitated towards this place. "It's been a long time, though, since I've been back home. Things are...well, they're very difficult and it's a rough situation." She knows that he's possibly aware, but it's hardly something that she wants to guess at.

After all, it's not like she has a brief informing her of what he knows and recalls in full.

[dayswithoutincident]

Eyebrows arched in recognition, Bruce nods, his gaze drifting to the lawn. "I can relate to that," he says, and peeks up at the girl with another faint, sympathetic smile.

"So you're kind of stuck here out of necessity, but do you like it here?" he asked, squinting against the sunlight.

[shes_biochem]

She takes in a sharp breath and reminds herself that talking to Dr. Bruce Banner is an absolutely normal thing and she should rest on her own laurels of being an accomplished scientist with two PhDs. She tells herself that, but then she thinks about how she's speaking to a member of the Avengers and shrinks, slightly. "Well, until Fitz gets better, yes," she replies, finding words before she can find herself on a long tangent of inner-awe.

"I know it's probably asking too much, but I wouldn't mind getting an all clear from home, either," she adds.

[dayswithoutincident]

Mouth open to reply, Bruce falters instead, his expression pinched with uncertainty but eyes sharply curious. "Am I–" he begins, motioning from himself to her and back again with a tentative index finger. "Am I making you nervous?"

That she was the one to start this conversation says a lot, but he's far too hyper-aware of his sphere of influence to miss the way she shies like a horse about to spook.

[shes_biochem]

"I'm sorry, I should have prefaced the conversation with this," Simmons admits, hand fluttering near her forehead as she winces, thinking that she's been so awfully rude and tense lately and this is hardly an excuse, but she should know better. "I know who you are," she admits. "And I'm a big fan of your work, I really am. I read your papers and notes under my covers with a flashlight more times than I can count."

"I also know about your other experiments," she says, decorously.

[nebaritralk]

"'s what I like best about this place," Chiana confirms as she walks up to the guy's side - human, she keeps hoping, although she isn't sure she wouldn't welcome a Sebacean at this stage, if only because they would know what she is. Not stare. Glare judgmentally, sure, especially if they were a Peacekeeper, but she's beginning to think it would be a small price to pay for some familiarity.

"Also what I hate best about it," she adds, looking up at the cosmos stretching above them. So many stars, and she is stuck here. Wouldn't you hate it as well.

[dayswithoutincident]

When Bruce glances aside, his double-take is mild and quickly contained—He has to stop thinking of human as the natural norm, he tells himself. It isn't as if he can exactly be one to throw stones for looking different.

"Why hate?" he asks, head tilted in polite curiosity, squinting against the sun.

[nebaritralk]

"Can't get there now, can I," Chiana replies immediately, and gives him a bit of a smirk. The sort that's tinged with longing, if you're good at reading subtext in facial expressions. Her body language might be different from humans, but facial expressions remain widely the same.

[dayswithoutincident]

"I don't know," Bruce replies with a small shrug and brief, contemplative frown. "Why can't you?"

Perhaps the answer seems self-evident; he knows well enough that sometimes, people find themselves effectively stuck in this dimension. But with all the resources available–All the knowledge, and people like himself wandering around with nothing concrete to do with their time–it's hard to imagine there aren't other options.

[nebaritralk]

"You got a ship hidden somewhere, let me know," Chiana tells him with a smirk that seems to say she would make it worth his while. Then again, she doesn't think he actually does. Nobody's getting in or out of this place without using the freaking doors.

[dayswithoutincident]

"Not me. But I might know somebody who does," Bruce allows, his tone offhand, as he honestly has no idea what Stark and Fury have hidden away. "I take it you're stuck here," he adds with an arch of his eyebrows.

[nebaritralk]

Chiana gives him a clearly searching gaze, trying to determine whether he's telling the truth or running a con on her. "Cut off from my universe, anyway," she answers after a beat. She's gone through doors, but never ones that would bring her back to a world where Nerri existed.

[morethanhuman]

Familiar faces were getting more and more common around the hotel, so much so that Erik was hardly surprised by them anymore. But this face was at least something of a pleasant surprise; someone he knew who had no reason to hate the sight of him. There had been precious few people he'd considered friends aboard the Proserpina, but Banner's dry humor and unassuming personality had made Erik like the scientist in spite of himself— enough to startle a greeting out of him before he'd thought it through.

"Banner," he said with a little nod, earning a startled look that quickly turned bemused. Damn. If he'd paused to think, he'd have reminded himself there was no guarantee this was the same Banner he'd been trapped in space with, but now it was too late to do anything but stand there awkwardly and wait for a reply.

[dayswithoutincident]

Bruce turns from the sky and blinks the sun from his eyes to pick out the figure of a man he's absolutely certain he doesn't know. He might not have thought much of it but for the familiarity to his tone, as offhand and expectant as it were Stark who had just stepped up instead of this tall, slender stranger.

Even Cap calls him Doctor Banner.

"Yes?" he says, eyebrows arched in open curiosity.

[morethanhuman]

Erik's lips pressed together in chagrin, an expression of almost comic self-deprecation. "Apologies," he said. "I'd forgotten you might not know me."

He searched for a way to explain that wouldn't make him sound insane; finding none, he shrugged and said simply, "Before I came here, I was trapped somewhere else— somewhere similar, but... in space." It still sounded ludicrous, said aloud like that. "You were there as well. Or at least, some version of you was."

[dayswithoutincident]

"Really?" Bruce says, his eyebrows arching higher, and then reconsiders his reaction.

"I don't know why I'm surprised," he adds with a shake of his head. "Being here would seem to prove the viability of something like that. It's just...odd to hear, I suppose." It bothers him a little, the idea that there is some other version of himself out there, beyond his control.

"Were we in space on purpose?"

[iron_y]

After the first mysterious doorway he'd been through had disappeared before he could show it to Pepper, when another one showed up just as mysteriously, Tony viewed it with a jaundiced eye. He had better things to do. He had Extremis experiments to run, research to conduct and developments to develop, Pepper to keep happy, Happy to visit in the hospital... Not to mention a certain director of SHIELD to bug -- not with literal bugs, though it might come to that, but Tony had started off by being annoying and persistent with his questions about Coulson, and he thought he was making progress.

Which was pretty damn interesting, he had to admit.

His inquiries into HYDRA were far more discreet, but just as interesting.

So he wasn't ignoring the hotel. It was too useful for that. But he wasn't running through the hallways rubbernecking at the dinosaurs either. He'd sent a few robots through with orders to roam and report, set up some sensors and a few dozen Jarvis-controlled weapons pointed at that door just in case -- And then he let it be.

Oh, he went through one time just to say he had, and one time to rescue Dummy from the maze, and one time because he wanted an ice cream sandwich from the hotel bistro, but mostly he was just too busy for mysterious doorways. The data from the sensors piled up, Dummy seemed to enjoy the outings to the other side of the doorway, but Fury was starting to crack, so he had to redouble his attention in that direction --

But sometimes, late at night, Tony found himself staring at that particular door, especially when the Extremis experiments weren't going well. Thinking about threats and opportunities. Excitement, and fear. And tonight it was just too much.

"I'll be back in a few hours," Tony said to Jarvis, pushing away the 3-D display of the genetic model he'd been working on. That brought the real contents of his workbench into sight -- a bunch of repulsors he'd been tinkering with, and some structural pieces from a new suit. Or a new something. Maybe not a suit, exactly. He grabbed them all, a vague plan for what to do with them already forming, and hurried through the door before he changed his mind.

He wasn't sure if he was proving something, or just looking for a bit of fun. And he wasn't expecting to find Bruce Banner out on the grounds staring at the sky.

"Hey," he said to Bruce, and tossed one of the inactive repulsors at Bruce to see if he'd catch it. "Heads up!" It was a friendly test, really. A moment later, it occurred to him that Bruce might not know him yet -- Loki hadn't. But when he played that conversation through in his mind, he just wasn't interested in discussing space and time and all the things he didn't know about the nexus, not even with Bruce.

"I'm going flying," he said conversationally, instead. On impulse he tossed another repulsor in a high trajectory and watched its perfect parabola toward Bruce's head with a smug smile. The first one had been the warning, and this one was slow; Bruce could hardly miss it. "Want to come?"

If this was some past version of Bruce, well, Bruce was smart. He'd figure it out. "And by the way, 'no' is not an acceptable answer. It'll be fun."

[dayswithoutincident]

In the time since the incident with Loki, Bruce has spent an inordinate amount of time with Tony Stark. Like the directive just posed, Bruce had little say in the matter, Tony's hospitality foisted upon him as if irrefutable fact: Obviously Bruce had nowhere to go, and what would he do with himself anyway, cower in some remote corner of the world like a fugitive, trading medical services for goats? No, he had more important work, world-altering work, there at Stark Tower, and look at all the R and D, look at the free reign to do whatever he wanted, and anyway, he was a hero now, there were kids and old ladies depending on him.

That was the line, anyway, and given that it was generally true, Bruce hadn't exactly been a hard sell. And if he hadn't anticipated playing psychiatrist as well as lab partner, he guessed it was a relatively small price to pay in the grand scheme of things. Never mind that keeping Tony Stark sane benefitted the world as a whole.

Early in, he'd grown used to this: The heads-up toss, the poking with sharp objects, the sudden leaping from behind pieces of furniture in Freddy Krueger masks. At some point, he's pretty sure the point got a little lost, and that it became less about provoking the Other Guy and more about Tony's brusque brand of fondness. Bruce endures it all with a resigned sort of patience, like an old dog in the company an overly-enthusiastic puppy.

Just now, there's only warning enough to half-duck out of the way of the first repulsor, which glances off his shoulder before skidding across the well-manicured lawn. The second he doesn't catch, but rather steps neatly out of the way of, and then watches as it tumbles across the grass to clank against the first.

"I really don't think trapping me inside a metal suit is the best idea, if that's what you mean," he says, not bothering to wonder how Tony ended up here, at the hotel.

[iron_y]

"Nah, I was thinking more..." But his original idea hadn't factored Bruce in, that was true. Tony only hesitated for half a second. "...flying carpet." If only he had brought along a carpet, that would be perfect. "Or maybe flying bedspread," he admitted. There had to be some of those around, and he could reinforce one of them...

Tony bent to drop his armload of spare parts onto the ground next to the two repulsors, giving Bruce an exasperated look as he straightened up. "You were supposed to catch those, you know." On the ground, the spare parts hummed and bounced oddly, repeatedly clanking against each other. They were each part of a experiment Tony liked to call distributed embodied intelligence, and the bouncing and humming was part of how they oriented themselves.

[dayswithoutincident]

"Yes, I know," Bruce says, unapologetic as he looks to the pile of parts twitching atop the grass. He shifts a dubious look up to Tony, who Bruce expects will hardly notice: Most of the looks he gives him are dubious. In this case, it's less to do with whether Stark can manage a flying carpet, and more to do with the fact that Bruce will undoubtedly be forced to join the maiden voyage.

"Please don't tell me this makes me Princess Jasmine in this scenario," he says, squinting against the sunlight.

[iron_y]

"Unhelpful," Tony accused. He squatted to watch the moving parts, rolling his eyes as he caught the tail end of Bruce's dubious look. "Has it ever occurred to you that -- " he reached out and snatched one particular part from the jumble -- an oddly shaped piece with an accordion fold two thirds of the way up -- "if you can't dodge every throw, you might want to learn to catch?"

That would have been a good time to throw something else at Bruce, but Tony had other plans for the part in his hand. "It's not that hard, children everywhere learn to play catch with very little difficulty. And besides --"

Standing up again, he held the odd part up to his mouth like a microphone and intoned hollowly, "Not engaging is a form of engagement."

A moment later his expression turned sour -- not really funny. Not just the oracular delivery bringing back the style of the Mandarin, but... Not engaging was how he'd been dealing with this nexus, and yet here he was.

Whatever. He was just here to have some fun.

Tony whispered a few more words to his spare part -- it quit telescoping in and out for a few seconds like it was listening. Then Tony feinted a throw at Bruce before tossing it back to the jumble.

"Hey, princess, you said it, not me." Tony added. "Tell me, when is the last time you wore harem pants?"

[dayswithoutincident]

This Bruce does not deign to answer, although for a moment he does wonder if parachute pants count. The late Eighties had been an odd time for everyone.

"Not to suggest that this plan isn't incredibly interesting," he begins, his signature half-wince suggesting otherwise, "but I would have thought this place would pose more challenging problems for you to solve."

[iron_y]

"Is that what you think?" Tony asked, annoyed. More challenging problems? Was Bruce Banner actually accusing him, Tony Stark, of being an underachiever?

"You're just saying that because you don't want to fly," Tony added. "Okay, that's fine, I can have fun without you, you know. If I didn't know better, I'd think you didn't trust me."