Bruce (Request) | Breaking Walls

                                    

                                          
For @TheMortician45
                          
You stood there, unwilling. The fright that the mention of his name sent rough your body was enough of a deterrence to keep you away from the otherwise lovely green monster's lab. As a student trained by the same trainer who'd once trained one of the world's top assassins, The Black Widow, you'd come to understand the hardship of the world, and how lethal you really were. You remembered back to the days you were still under the guiding hand of Petrovich.
                          
You'd stood in the middle of what was a basement converted into a training facility. The ground was cold and hard under your feet and the walls were no more inviting, some areas with chipping or completely gone black paint.
                          
"Again," he had said, throwing your cartridge of bullets at you in an attempt to make you reload faster.
                          
One, two. Two steps.
                          
You had looked up, eyes weary at what he would think. Had you been fast enough? Your eyes scanned his face and when he broke a smile, you knew that he was toying with you. Before you could blink, he had a gun in his hand. His face became stone like as he pointed it at you. "Think about this, little one. When you're being chased by... Shall we say the monsters that roam the night, or shot at..." He took a step closer before he had roared, "How long do you think you will survive with a time as slow as that?!"
                          
You shuddered. The memory still haunted you. The monsters that roamed the night were, in your head, the well renowned Hulk, the man of metal amour, the god from Asgard, and the boy with the arrows. All those years of learning their weaknesses hadn't been for nothing. The Red Room Academy knew they were dangerous, and you knew they were dangerous. So why were they sending you in to retrieve Dr. Banner's files?
                          
"(Y/N). Did you hear me?" Petrovich asked. He was softer on you now, more lenient.
                          
You nodded. "Yes."
                          
No smile. "Very well. Off you go then."
                          
And from there, you picked up your things, and made your way from Moscow to New York.
                          
*****
                          
The moment you stepped off the plane, you could feel the difference in the air and a constant bubble of pressure in your ears. New York was warmer, and the people didn't seem to be too involved in anyone else aside from themselves. New York was the lonely place it was made out to be. You dragged your suitcase over the tarmac as you made your way to the terminal to get your papers checked. The moment that was done, you got in a taxi and off you went. You had a hotel waiting under an alias name, and were rather excited to be seeing the hotel room, very well knowing that that may be the only highlight of the entire trip.
                          
*****
                          
"Miss Koryavina?" the concierge asked for the third time. By then he'd learned to pronounce it right.
                          
"Hm?" You'd let your mind wander for too long.
                          
"Your room is in the proceeds of being cleaned. Would it be possible for you to return at 1PM?" A little bit of you - the academy part -wanted to snap his neck for being so damn disrespectful, and the other bit of you knew it wasn't his fault. You simply nodded.
                          
"I want my luggage stored." No request. Just do it, boy.
                          
And with that, you left to go an explore the world. Well, at least the grand NYC.
                          
*****
                          
Your mood wavered as it got closer to the event. You were... Apprehensive.
                          
You took in a deep breath before completely zipping your suit up. Skin tight and under your everyday clothing, it protected you from quite a bit and made movements a lot easier without added drag.
                          
You looked in the mirror one last time. You looked strangely normal. Ha! Normal! There was nothing normal about what you were going to do! You brushed the thought off before going to the car that was waiting for you, one 'David Smith' sitting as driver and accomplice. As if the Academy couldn't have just named him something else. If they hadn't picked John Smith, they'd picked the next best thing.
                          
You rolled your eyes as he told you his name, and he snickered. On the outside, you were like each and every one of those other girls. You knew how to play normal, and disrespect those below you. And he happened to be one of them.
                          
"Drive," you simply said.
                          
He nodded and started driving. You were definitely not paid enough for this.
                          
*****
                          
"Here we are," he said, pulling up before the trees started to clear. It was dark and cold outside, and you didn't particularly want to exit the heat, but you knew it had to be done. You got out muttering a short thanks before running to the base.
                          
*****
                          
"Next exit is on your left," David said, constantly reconfiguring the radio waves.
                          
You took the next left and found yourself standing in what was essentially a glass room with metal frames. It seemed to double as a prison for the Hulk and a lab for Bruce. You gulped, but went in.
                          
"USB's in your left pocket." David's voice rang through, annoying you.
                          
"You can shut up now."
                          
"Right. Apologies."
                          
You sighed, rolling your eyes. The silence was nice, but now the sound of your heart beating was predominant and that was almost scarier.
                          
You reached into your left pocket, though it wasn't much of a pocket. You'd shed your normal look in the car and the skin tight suit didn't offer many places to put things.
                          
You put it in the main computer. David had disabled Jarvis long enough to give you a window of ten minutes.
                          
You found the files and copied them before searching around for the physical ones. You found many in his draw, left unlocked probably by mistake. You grabbed at them, taking them all. There was no time to be fancy and technological. You needed it now.
                          
You checked the screen. Two more minutes. You hadn't planned it to take that long and it was making you frantic.
                          
And that's when you heard breathing.
                          
A truck load of cuss words entered your mind as you begged for it to not be him - or it. Whichever it was.
                          
You turned around, and there he was, standing there, with his muscles tense in what represented a show down. You gulped.
                          
The only message that got through to you was, "Run."
                          
You took off, leaving the USB. You hadn't wanted to do this mission anyways! As you ran, you began to freak out, listening to the smashing of his lab.
                          
You thought you saw and exit, but before you could take it, you noticed the glass. You skidded to a stop, your feet touching the glass door that had closed to trap you in.
                          
You'd always found that on mission, there were three stages of panic. The panic where you missed a person and had to go back to clean it up, the panic where you were running slightly late or early and missed a cue, and the panics that you were about to get killed. Stage three had never been required, but here it was. You began freaking out and all of the training you'd had left your head as he came closer.
                          
He stood there, his eyes trained on you. If you even breathed wrong, you'd be killed.
                          
He took a step back before roaring. You covered your ears, curling into a ball, crumpling the files in the process. Paper and information meant nothing if you didn't have your life.
                          
He relaxed then just stood there.
                          
You took a peek before noticing his still stance. Then he moved back only to charge at you. You screamed, immobilised. But in the last second, you managed to throw a file at him.
                          
He stopped, stunned. Did you just outmanoeuvre the Hulk?! With a Manila folder?!
                          
The glass doors opened miraculously and you ran out, only to be met with a wall of Avengers. Oh great.