The Quinjet touched down on the massive flight deck, its engines whining as they powered down. Outside the cabin, the noise of turbines and ocean wind was deafening. Crew members in colored vests rushed across the tarmac, guiding fighter jets into position.
Rising from his seat, Steve Rogers slung a canvas duffel bag over his plain leather jacket. He stared out the small window. His jaw tightened slightly as he took in the scale of the operation, a man trying to process seventy years of change in a single afternoon.
Grabbing my suitcase, I followed him down the metal ramp.
Natasha Romanoff was waiting on the deck. She gave Steve a polite nod before her gaze flicked briefly toward me, cautious as always.
"Captain,"
"Ma'am," Steve replied, returning the nod. His eyes swept across the deck, lingering on the advanced systems. "They told me you were bringing me to a boat."
"They were right," Natasha said with a faint smirk.
A deep vibration surfaced through the deck beneath our feet as the helicarrier's engines engaged. The ship began to rise.
Steve walked toward the edge, gripping the railing to watch the ocean drop away. Leaving him to the view, I crossed the deck instead, taking in the technology. Impressive for this era.
A few yards away, Bruce Banner wandered awkwardly among the crew. His shoulders were slightly hunched, as if trying to take up less space. He clutched an old tweed jacket, eyes flicking toward the armed guards. No one stood too close to him.
Steve caught sight of him and closed the distance. "Dr. Banner."
Startled, Banner turned. "Yeah, hi. They told me you'd be coming." He shook Steve's hand with a quick, nervous energy. "Word is you can find the cube."
"Is that the only word on me?" Steve asked.
"That's… the part I'm interested in," Banner replied.
Banner's eyes drifted past the super-soldier, landing on me a few paces back. He took in the tailored suit and the relaxed posture. Used to dealing with soldiers, scientists, or executioners, my presence clearly unsettled his mental categories.
"And, uh… who's the suit?" he asked, attempting a light tone. "You guys bringing your own lawyers now?"
Steve glanced over his shoulder. The flight had been silent, leaving us practically strangers. "Actually, I'm not sure. We just shared the ride."
"Adrian," I said, keeping my hands resting at my sides. "Consultant."
Banner offered a tight, polite smile. "Right. Well, good luck with the circus, Adrian. I'm just here to track gamma signatures. Not really looking to get involved in the... heavy lifting."
A convenient lie.
Standing near him, I could feel it- something dense and restless beneath the surface. Not just anger. The pressure and contained force, constantly pushing against its limits. It weighed on him, even when he stood still.
"You look tired, Doctor," I noted quietly.
Banner turned, folding his arms. "Long flight. You know how it is."
"Not from the flight," I said. "From holding the door shut."
Banner froze.
The nervous edge disappeared from his face, replaced by stillness. Paranoia started surface on him. A stranger in a suit had just casually pinpointed the exact psychological strain he carried every second of his life.
"Excuse me?" His voice dropped.
I met his gaze without moving.
"You treat it like a cage," I said, my eyes drifting briefly toward the clouds gathering around the rising carrier. "That only makes it push back harder."
Banner didn't respond.
For a moment, he just stood there, studying me, trying to place how a stranger could say something that close to the truth.
There was no fear in my expression. No pity, either.
Before he could answer, Natasha's voice interrupted his thought.
"Gentlemen," she called, gesturing toward the bridge. "You might want to step inside. It's about to get a little hard to breathe."
Banner exhaled slowly. He gave me one last look- uncertain, wary, but not entirely hostile- then turned and followed her inside.
I remained where I was for a moment longer, watching the clouds gather around the ascending ship.