Imagine If You Assembled The Avengers: Volume 3

Before You Go (Banner x reader)

Sequel to Mr. Brightside 

I fell by the wayside like everyone else

I hate you, I hate you, I hate you, but I was just kidding myself
Our every moment, I start to replace
'Cause now that they're gone, all I hear are the words that I needed to say

When you hurt under the surface
Like troubled water running cold
Well, time can heal, but this won't

Bruce had been gone for exactly three months, twelve days, and seventeen minutes when he finally called to let the team know that he was okay. He knew that Tony would be able to pinpoint his location in seconds if he were to ever let the Hulk run free again since the night he left, so he did everything in his power to keep that from happening. He wanted to know that he could hide away in plain sight; to blend in when he never could before. To disappear from sight to where you had no way to see him. Because he definitely didn't want to see you.

It was unfair of him to leave like he did, and he knew it. Bruce had ruminated for hours on end, trying to think of what to say and how to apologize, but what he didn't know was how to simply hear the sound of your voice on the other end of the phone without retreating forever just to hide away from the pain and mortification of how he had handled this. Hell, Tony knew before you did, and by some miracle, the man who historically spoke before he thought had kept it a secret all this time. Looking back, Bruce wasn't sure anymore if that was a good thing, or if it would've just been best to rip the bandage away and let the whole situation just bleed out.

Bruce also wasn't sure if what he was about to do was a good idea.

"Hey, (Y/N)," he greeted quietly, an almost meek character carrying his voice, "how have you been?"

"I've been better," you shrugged, carefully taking a seat opposite of him in a booth of a restaurant that sat at a mid-point between the tower and the upstate Avengers facility. You sighed and looked around the small diner, noting the décor that attempted to give it a sense of nostalgia, but the kitsch of what was meant to be the treasures of an antique hunt looked more like a hasty garage sale run. "How did you find this place? Can't say I've ever heard of it."

Bruce then realized that he hadn't taken the time for himself to really look at the surroundings he had chosen for such an important meeting. He immediately berated himself silently for the oversight. This wasn't the place to handle something so delicate, so personal, so...intimate. He should've chosen better but now it was too late and he had to keep moving forward before he made a run for his life instead.

"Uh, I can't say that I have either," he admitted. "I just drove until this caught my eye." His gaze finally found its way back to yours and a small smile curled at the corners of his lips, "clearly my eyes are broken if I thought this was okay."

"I won't hold your sense of taste against you, don't worry."

"Thanks, I appreciate the charity. So..." he paused, shifting in his seat a bit, "how's Tony?"

"He's good."

"Good."

"Right," you sighed heavily, "but you knew that already since you've talked to him before you ever called me. So, let's have it. Not a word for months, and out of nowhere, we're in the middle of nowhere, making small talk about nothing. What's going on, Bruce? Why the change of heart? We thought you were gone."

"Tony called me."

"Yeah, we've established that. Is it the only reason?"

"Come on, (Y/N)," he groaned. He put his elbows up on the table and took his head into his hands. You weren't sure if he was hiding his face out of embarrassment or frustration, or what, but the emanating pain he seemed to be in was hard to keep from taking it on yourself. "You know why."