⋆.ೃ࿔*:･𝐢. before i learned civility i used to scream ferociously

𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐑𝐈𝐃 𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐔𝐆𝐆𝐋𝐄𝐃 𝐓𝐎 𝐑𝐄𝐂𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐂𝐈𝐒𝐄 𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐒 that had brought her to this moment. However, one thing remained vivid in her memory: the sensation of being pulled by her hand, her father's grip firm, her steps unsteady, towards a small house nestled on the outskirts of the bustling city. Beside her, a young girl, whose face was now a blur, had guided them, only to vanish through an open window once they were inside.

Bruce's heavy sigh filled the silence as he looked down to meet his daughter's gaze. "Always ask to be paid up front."

A voice disrupted the stillness, drawing their attention to the woman who was behind them. "You know, for a man who's supposed to be avoiding stress you picked a hell of a place to settle." She remarked, her footsteps echoing softly through the dimly lit interior of the house.

"Avoiding stress isn't the secret," Bruce mumbled, releasing his daughter's hand.

"Then what is it? Yoga?" The woman asked, her tone laced with sarcasm.

"You brought me to the edge of the city. Smart. I assume the whole place is surrounded." Bruce surmised, his eyes scanning the perimeter through the windows as he spoke. Ingrid remained rooted to the spot in the center of the room, her gaze sweeping over the shadows that danced across the dimly lit interior.

"It's just us three." The woman confirmed, her gaze briefly meeting Ingrid's before shifting back to Bruce.

"And your actress buddy? Is she a spy, too? They start that young?" Bruce asked, gesturing toward the window through which the young girl had disappeared earlier.

"I did."

"Who are you?" Bruce pressed, his curiosity evident in his voice.

"Natasha Romanoff."

"Are you here to kill me, Ms. Romanoff? Because that's not going to work out for everyone." Ingrid tensed up at her father's words, taking a careful step closer to him.

Natasha shook her head firmly. "No, of course not. I'm here on behalf of S.H.I.E.L.D." She reassured him.

"S.H.I.E.L.D.? How did they find me?" Bruce inquired.

"We never lost you, Doctor. We've kept our distance. Even helped keep some other interested parties off your scent." Natasha explained.

"Why?" Bruce pressed, his gaze fixed on Natasha, searching for any hint of motive behind her sudden appearance.

"Nick Fury seems to trust you. But now we need you to come in." Natasha replied.

"What if I say no?" Bruce challenged, a hint of defiance in his tone.

"I'll persuade you." Natasha stated simply, her confidence audible.

"And what if the other guy says no?"

"You've been more than a year without an incident. I don't think you want to break that streak." Natasha countered, her words tinged with a subtle warning.

"Well, I don't every time get what I want." Bruce remarked, his steps echoing softly as he paced the room.

"Doctor, we're facing a potential global catastrophe." Natasha emphasized, her tone grave and urgent.

"Well, those I actively try to avoid," Bruce chuckled lightly.

"This," Natasha slid the phone with the picture across the wooden table, "is the Tesseract. It has the potential energy to wipe out the planet."

Bruce adjusted his glasses and reached for the phone, his fingers hovering over the screen. Ingrid trailed after him, standing on her tiptoes and clinging to her father's jacket for support as she tried to catch a glimpse of the picture.

"What does Fury want me to do, swallow it?" Bruce said, and Ingrid couldn't help but giggle as she took a closer look at the glowing cube in the picture.

"He wants you to find it. It's been taken. It emits a gamma signature that's too weak for us to trace. There's no one who knows gamma radiation like you do. If there was, that's where I'd be." Natasha explained, her tone serious.

"So Fury isn't after the monster?"

"Not that he's told me." Natasha replied.

"And he tells you everything." Bruce remarked, a note of skepticism in his voice.

Natasha sighed heavily. "Talk to Fury. He needs you on this."

"He needs me in a cage." Bruce retorted.

"No one's going to put you in a-" Natasha began, but her words were abruptly cut off.

"Stop lying to me!" Bruce yelled, slamming his hands onto the wooden table with a resounding thud. Ingrid remained composed, showing no signs of fear, but Natasha, her expression tense, swiftly rose from her chair and withdrew a gun.

"I'm sorry. That was mean. I just wanted to see what you'd do." Bruce apologized, his voice returning to its calm, quiet tone, as if the outburst had never occurred. "Why don't we do this the easy way where you don't use that, and the other guy doesn't make a mess. Okay, Natasha?"

Natasha hesitated for a moment before lowering her gun.

"Stand down." Natasha said into her earpiece. "We're good here."

"Just us three."