"J.A.R.V.I.S., delete this memory from my brain."
"Apologies, sir. Biological memory deletion is not within my service parameters."
Tony Stark groaned and dropped his forehead against the table.
"I gave that woman a foot massage…"
Clint Barton stared blankly at the tabletop.
"I fed her grapes," he muttered. "Laura is going to kill me. Or worse—she'll set that clip as her phone wallpaper."
Bruce Banner said nothing. His shoulders sagged as if the weight of the planet had settled there permanently.
Click.
The door opened.
Antony walked in, Ashley trailing behind him with a tablet.
"Good afternoon, gentlemen," Antony said lightly, as if attending brunch. "Looks like your post-war psychological review is going well?"
Tony lifted his head. Dark circles under his eyes. Stubble growing in.
"You here to humiliate us?"
He gestured weakly at the screen looping their greatest hits of shame.
"If you are—congratulations. You win. Now turn that damn thing off."
"Humiliate?" Antony swiped the screen, freezing it on the frame of Tony firing T-VEX into Hulk's mouth.
"No, Tony."
"I'm here to save you."
Clint let out a hollow laugh.
"From what? Drowning in embarrassment?"
"From prison."
Antony's tone changed.
He dropped the tablet on the table.
News feeds filled the screen.
CNN: "Avengers: Fallen Heroes or Domestic Terror Threat?"
FOX: "Iron Man Injects Hulk with Illegal Enhancement Compound!"
BBC: "White House Considering Charges Against Stark and Banner."
Warrants. Headlines. Pundits dissecting every frame.
"S.H.I.E.L.D., the FBI, Homeland Security," Antony said calmly, "are lining up to arrest you."
He tapped the image of Tony injecting T-VEX.
"Especially you."
"Feeding Hulk an experimental compound? Congratulations. You just manufactured a biochemical weapon."
Tony's jaw clenched.
"If I hadn't leveraged presidential connections to place you under Vought's 'protective security evaluation,'" Antony continued evenly, "you'd be wearing orange jumpsuits right now. Deep-sea containment facility. Cellmates with people who eat concrete for sport."
Silence.
"So," Antony leaned back in his chair, "what's the plan?"
The room went still.
Finally, Bruce Banner spoke.
"I'm leaving."
Clint looked up.
"Leaving where?"
"Space."
Banner pointed upward.
"Tony has ships. I can retrofit one. Launch myself into deep space."
He swallowed.
"If I'm far enough from humanity… Hulk can't hurt anyone."
Clint nodded faintly.
"Honestly? I wouldn't mind disappearing either."
Antony stared at them.
Then laughed.
"Doctor Banner. Seven PhDs, and this is your solution?"
Banner snapped.
"What else do you want from me?! Hulk is a bomb! I'm protecting the world!"
"Protecting who?" Antony cut in sharply. "Humans?"
A pause.
"Have you ever considered protecting Hulk?"
Banner froze.
"…Protecting Hulk?"
Antony turned the screen toward him.
The image showed Hulk—kneeling at St. Agnes Orphanage. Confused. Like a lost child.
"Look at him," Antony said quietly.
"Does he want to kill? Does he enjoy destruction?"
"No."
His voice deepened.
"He's been hunted since the day he was born. Shot at. Blamed. Feared."
"Six years old, maybe seven."
"And what has the world taught him? That everyone wants him dead."
"When a child is attacked by the entire world," Antony said softly, "what do you expect him to do besides swing his fists?"
Banner's breathing faltered.
All this time, he had treated Hulk like a disease.
A parasite.
Never a person.
Antony leaned forward.
"Your exile plan is denied, Doctor."
"I'm not letting you throw that kid into space like radioactive trash."
Banner's voice was small now.
"Then… what do I do?"
Antony smiled.
"Simple."
"If you can't teach him—"
"—I will."
The room blinked.
"Starting today, Hulk is my godson."
Silence.
Tony stared.
"You're serious?"
"You're adopting the green rage monster?"
"Correct."
Antony folded his hands calmly.
"I'll teach him right from wrong. Control. Responsibility."
"I'll raise him into a hero."
He looked at Banner.
"Isn't that what you want?"
Bruce Banner looked like someone had just handed him oxygen after years underwater.
"…You really think that's possible?"
"Absolutely."
Antony stood and extended his hand.
"On behalf of Vought, I formally invite you, Dr. Bruce Banner, to join our Science Division."
"Unlimited funding. Top laboratories."
"And a godfather willing to babysit."
Banner stared at the offered hand.
Then—slowly—he took it.
"Thank you… Godfather."
Tony rolled his eyes.
"Great. Now Hulk has a stepdad."
Clint snorted despite himself.
Antony turned to Tony.
"And you."
"I know you're proud. Stark doesn't work for anyone."
Tony straightened slightly.
"Damn right."
"So don't."
Antony's lips curved.
"Form a partnership."
"Vought–Stark Strategic Technologies."
"You keep your autonomy. We handle the politics."
"You build. I protect."
Tony narrowed his eyes.
"What's the catch?"
"No more T-VEX without oversight."
A beat.
"And no more launching missiles because a blonde sings at you."
Clint coughed.
Tony exhaled.
"…Fair."
Antony extended a hand.
Tony hesitated.
Then shook it.
System prompt flickered in Antony's mind:
Ding! Bruce Banner has joined Vought Science Division!
Special Popularity +40,000
Hulk loyalty rising…
Ding! Strategic Alliance formed: Vought–Stark Technologies
Antony smiled inwardly.
One by one.
The strongest pieces on the board were falling into place.
…
Tony leaned back in his chair.
"Well. I guess the Avengers just got… rebranded."
Clint muttered:
"So what are we now?"
Antony stood.
"You're not fugitives."
"You're not fallen heroes."
"You're men who made mistakes."
"And chose to stand back up."
He paused.
"And as long as I'm here—"
"No one touches my people."
Tony glanced sideways at Banner.
"…See? I told you."
Banner blinked.
"Told me what?"
Tony smirked faintly.
"You just gained half a dad."
The tension in the room finally cracked.
For the first time since the disaster—
They laughed.
And outside Vought headquarters—
The world kept watching.
And believing.
--------------
T/N:
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