Serene Science

“ I have, I love classic literature actually. ” Cee smiles at the woman, Elizabeth, the name is in her mind with a glance. Whatever might be entwined in her tone is lost on Cee, and simply thinks she’s making pleasant conversation about books which, perhaps, she is, despite the dark humour behind the words. “ It’s one of my favorites. ”

     ❝And what did you think of it?❞

Her tone is less bitter now, genuine curiosity piqued in the obliviousness to any negative undertone. Is it the words that strike a chord, or the meaning behind them? The nuanced intricacies of such a classical text have always been open to interpretation, but taste and relatability are two different things. Two polarised and contradicting angles of discussion really, if she wanted to get technical. For Betty it’s the similarity to experiences lived that bites with ironic teeth; but she can see the appeal beyond the parallels. She can understand the lure and appeal of a good, quality book.

     ❝I always thought Hyde was the one getting the RAW deal.❞

women of the mcu ➝ betty ross

He couldn’t find his voice, he couldn’t even react to her dropping her drink. His own tea was shaking in his hand so much that he has to quickly put it down. He didn’t want to cause even more of a mess. He’d already caused  so many messages. He’d already done so much damage…

She was still just as beautiful as he remembered. She still looked just as good as the day that he had left. He had tried so hard to hide from everything that involved her. Science reports, the news, social media. He had tried to hard to just erase himself from a life he was bound to never have again.

But here she stood, just as shocked to see him as he was to see her. He didn’t even know she was in the area. He didn’t even know she was anywhere around. Not that he tried to keep tabs on her; that was the last thing he would ever try to do when he just wanted to separate himself from that part of his life because he could offer that part of his life nothing anymore.

What could he possibly say in a situation like this? When they were looking at each other and had only spoken the other’s names? What  could he say? He couldn’t just leave, not when she was so close. He couldn’t just leave her behind again, as much as his brain screamed  for him to run. Back to India, maybe. To South America. To Australia. Anywhere but here.

              “You dropped your drink.                  L-Let me buy you another one.”

It’s like the world had shifted into moving in slow motion. There’s barely a second between her cup dropping and it colliding with the floor, yet it feels like an eternity, her eyes unwavering, hands shaking and her jaw slack with shock. Her mind wanders back to that night at the pizzeria, to having seen him alive and well after what had felt like an age. Betty feels like history is repeating, dangling before her ideas and wishes, only to snatch them away again. He can’t be here. This can’t be real. It takes his voice to snap her from her thoughts, to remind her that this wasn’t then, but here and now. Dropping down to mop up the mess she’d invariably made with a handful of napkins, she keeps her gaze between Bruce and the floor, ever flicking back and forth, fully aware that at any given moment he might just hightail it out of there and vanish all over again.           ❛ — Maybe it’s a sign I should’ve ordered Decaf. Her lips curve tentatively, her sense of humour still perfectly intact even if her nerves aren’t entirely. She doesn’t know what to say, doesn’t know where to even start when she’s finally picking herself up and adopting a seat at the other side of his table whether invited or not.           ❛ —It’s good to see you Bruce. Really.

                    ❝—— great then, Betty. ❞       strawberry blonde smiled politely as she was used to do all the time.       she nodded her long, tiny hand towards the doors to younger woman       could pass inside. she nodded once again, this time with her head to       thank to other woman. ahead of them spread white hallway full of ha-       logen lights && people running around in white coats.

                   ❝—— oh!! i am virginia, but everybody calls me pepper.❞

          ❛ —Pepper, huh? There’s got to be a story behind that name.           How did you earn that one?    Maybe it’s too forward to pry, but Betty’s always enjoyed    hearing the stories behind nicknames. Sometimes they’re    obvious, others a little more personal - and even on occasion    perhaps a handful of both. Besides, this is all a nice way to    pass the time while treading into unknown territory. It’s not    the greatest habit in the world, but she has been known to    ramble when nervous - and any prospect of new science is    almost certainly going to be enough to increase her BP just    a smidgen.

     Oh, those. He’d seen others in the lab wandering      around with them on, but the purpose wasn’t clear      until she spoke. Jack offers a faint, somewhat      sheepish smile as he moves to grab one for himself      and pull it on. No doubt she must think him foolish      and trying, but he doesn’t think less of her for it.      Were he in her shoes, he would find being under      the scrutiny of a stranger irritating as well.

          ❛ Thank you, and my apologies.

   Oh bless him. He really does have no clue about what she’s    doing does he? It’s less of an irritation and more like watching    a wounded puppy wander into oncoming traffic. There’s just no    way to make it less painful for both parties concerned. It is what    it is however, and if her work is to be placed under scrutiny, then    so be it. She’ll bite her tongue and keep her head down, just so    long as Jack stays out of her way and doesn’t manage to    contaminate any of her experiments.           ❛ —No need to apologise. It’s not me you’d be hurting without one.           Unless you really don’t want kids ever, or a cancer free retirement,           in which case feel free to go a little al-fresco. Presumably you’re here           for a reason other than self-destructive behaviour however, so clue me           in. Who are you and what can I do for you today?

          Bruce chuckled a little at Betty’s response. Deep down he knew that he didn’t sound overly impressed and it had nothing at all to do with her. The science behind the whole breakthrough was well, he hoped somewhat sound. Even if given his current condition it was hard for him to imagine making such advances. But, then again he’d been preoccupied with attempting to find some sort of ‘cure’ for himself. It was selfish yes but, he wouldn’t make many excuses for it.                 ❝You know I’m impressed. It’s not that at all                        besides you are a capable scientist.                        Not to mention I think you can understand                        why I hesitate to break out the ticker tape                        parade right off the bat.❞           Placing his glasses back on his face Bruce tried to hide the weariness he’d been feeling lately. Betty’s question was legitimate even if the idea of the lack of progress was slightly heart-wrenching to him.                 ❝I think that it can be the opposite of progress.                        I’ve gotten nowhere. Not from lack of                        trying but, I’m missing something I just                        can’t seem to figure it out yet.❞           Bruce was beginning to think that finding a ‘fix’ for his problem was something that just wasn’t meant to be. 

   He’s not wrong. She can understand his reservations when it    came to any hint of a scientific advance. They’d both been    burnt the hard way over the years, expectations built up only    to be shattered at the final moment. Maybe she is taking his    lack of enthusiasm a little too personally, but she’d be lying if    she said it wasn’t wholly predictable.           ❛ —Maybe you’ve been staring at it for too long. Maybe what           you really need is a new set of eyes and a different approach.           Logic gets you so far, but ingenuity gets you further. Which angle           haven’t you looked at?    It’s quite telling how quickly Betty can drop her own disgruntled    attitude when it comes to helping him. Sure, she may be a little    less than thrilled that nobody else seems anywhere near as excited    as she is about a minor breakthrough, but it doesn’t mean she’s    incapable of helping Bruce, or of understanding the extent of his    plight.

lovelylivtyler:

      It wasn’t like this was Bruce’s plan.        It wasn’t like he was expecting to be out             on the New York streets looking       – once more – for a decent hole-in-the-wall     coffee shop for him to spend part of his days in.. 

            After the most recent battle, the coffee shop           that he had grown fond of had been –                heartbreakingly – destroyed.              It was currently under repairs. 

       But he would be lying right now if he said he knew          exactly how to get to the one that he’s found.           He remembers three lefts and then he got lost.

       He fiddles with his glasses after he glances at his phone –      a Stark phone; Tony wouldn’t let him say no – to see the time.    Time shouldn’t be a problem unless he got a call for a Code Green… 

          He heaves out a deep sigh as he puts his glasses back on,         his eyes flittering to the door when he hears the little bell ring –                      out of habit, he always wants to be alert. 

        However, what he wasn’t expecting was the sight         that his eyes meet. 

              It was like a scene out of his own mind.                          A beautiful nightmare. 

              Before he can stop himself,                  her name passes his lips in a whisper.

                                       “Betty…”

It’s funny how the world finds ways to make two paths intersect. There’s probably actually some grand mathematical formula that can calculate the exact probability of meeting someone you know when you least expect it, but Betty is hardly a statistician. If she’s being honest, she much prefers to believe in fate than probability because at least on some level then, the choice isn’t always hers. This particular little coffee shop is her favourite precisely because it’s in the middle of nowhere. She likes the seclusion of it, the cosy homely atmosphere that lingers behind every hidden wall instead of some sterile corporate enforced coffin. She’s spent too long in labs to be relaxing in places that have no soul, so it’s here that she retreats, much the same as every afternoon. Her nose is in a book as she pushes open that door, navigating the tiny tables through muscle memory alone. There’s no formality in the way she tears herself from the text, a smile warm and bright offered up in exchange for her beloved and oh so predictable coffee order. She isn’t paying attention to that ghost of a whisper, isn’t paying attention to much of anything really, until she turns the corner with her cup in hand and catches that familiar flash of life out of the corner of her eye. The cup drops before she has time to catch it, the dull smack of cardboard and liquid not even beginning to take the edge off what she isn’t sure she’s even seeing. Her stomach lurches, her heart leaping to her throat as it begins to ache. Is it really him? After all this time of total silence, is he really there, in the one place she’d happily call sanctuary?           ❛ —Bruce?

       ❛ Pre-meditated absence of calm. I think I’m going to end           up using that at some point. It’s a nice way to explain my          anger to your…father. 

She stumbles for a moment, wondering if her mention of General Ross will pass without a look. Crossing one leg over the other, Elektra turned to gave off into the middle distance, ruminating on Betty’s words. Neither of  them are used to burying emotions. She’s fully aware that she might seem cold and distant – but it’s only because she needs to have everything under control. Wearing your heart on your sleeve is one thing – Betty is wearing the equivalent of an atomic bomb. 

     ❛  — don’t take it for granted. Knowing it and hearing it from someone         else…I know what it’s like. You’re not contained here. We just want         to understand. But you don’t need me to tell you that. 

Pausing for a moment, she looked over to Betty – pushing her sunglasses  back up and onto the top of her head. 

     ❛ Do you meditate?

         ❛ —You’d do better chocking it up to PMS. He used to consider that          the cause of any mood swing I ever had and learnt better than to ask           questions to which he wouldn’t like the answer. The mention of her father isn’t quite the loaded gun it might once have been. Betty barely speaks to her father these days, perhaps for obvious reasons, but there is a flicker of a twitch in her fingers as they curl into her palms and she takes a cool, levelling breath. There are a great many adjectives she could use to describe her father, and not a single one is fit for polite conversation. But then again, she suspects that’s a given. A long standing track record with trying to kill your lover tends to carry some negative weight with it.          ❛ —I know. If truth be told though, I think I’d quite like to understand just           as much as you. This…isn’t what I signed up for. This isn’t what I wanted.           I don’t want to be…hunted when I walk out of here. I don’t want to be me. That’s a little too heavy and not what she’s going for. Not when the thought alone is already pushing her BP up. She’ll just relax through it. It’s safe here, like Elektra says. No pressure.          ❛ —The whole sitting in a room, contemplating the mysteries of life in peace           and quiet thing? Not if I can help it. Does it work?

“I want to know about the accident. I want to know about the man.” He smiled at her and gripped his cane before setting it down. He licked his lips and tried to form words to what he was feeling.

“I want to find out why this happened. Maybe we can…I can use it to help him. I might not seem like it but I am one of the good guys. I put away bad guys and I protect the weak. He isn’t weak believe me I know but he needs help.”

     ❛ — There isn’t a lot to tell. Really. It doesn’t matter how many      times I’ve tried to pick it apart to work out what went wrong, it’s      still impossible. Accidents happen. We were…working on a serum      to try and combat radiation. It’s a military project designed to generate      an immunity, except the theory was wrong. It…changed him in ways      we didn’t expect. Betty in all honesty doesn’t remember it all. She remembers the fragments of his transformation, the throbbing in her head when glass had shattered, and the hospital she’d woken up in, but beyond that the incident itself is hazy. Which perhaps only contributes to her reluctance to speak. She knows Matt means well though, or at least as well meaning as a lawyer can inherently be.      ❛ —He really is lovely you know? Bruce, when he’s not…indisposed.      He wouldn’t hurt a fly.