A MONTH LATER, MARNIE WAS DOING WELL FOR HERSELF. Now allowed to leave the Tower, she left almost every day, which helped the process move along much faster; she had already gone through major changes and growths while just around the Avengers, but now that she was allowed to interact with more people, she was able to pick up things faster, especially thanks to her abilities which she no longer tried to suppress, since the fear of being found was no longer an issue.

Of course, there were still reparations to be made, but Tony explained to her that going around to each and every family that she had hurt wouldn't be the best idea, and instead worked with S.H.I.E.L.D. to send out agents to do that, explaining the situation in full and making sure that all was, at least, understood. She wasn't sure how that would help things, the people not being able to see her and say all that they needed, do all that they needed, but she understood the importance of safety; but she still had to understand the importance of self-forgiveness.

Still, she was doing quite well for herself. She was still on her college courses, but she was almost done with her general education, which left her wondering what she was supposed to do next, if she had to get multiple PhD's like Bruce, but Tony assured her that they would cross that bridge once they got there, and she didn't have to rush through anything anymore.

She didn't have to do anything anymore. No one was forcing her to do anything, there was no rush to stay alive, she could lie in bed all day if she wanted, and the only thing that would be insisted upon her was that she eat and drink water, which was never a problem for her, because she loved trying new food.

Things were good.

"Hey, Cheese," Clint greeted, walking into the kitchen, and Marnie grinned up at him, in the middle of making herself a grilled cheese with sourdough bread, something that she had quickly grown to love, "How's it going?"

"Good," she greeted, moving to hug him, which was a new habit she was trying to form.

Clint and Natasha had moved back out of the Tower, Arabella still staying in her own room, though frequenting it less and less, as all three of them had more responsibilities than most over at S.H.I.E.L.D., whereas Steve and Bruce continued to stay, though there was talk about Steve moving out as well so he could be stationed in D.C., but that was something they didn't talk about, especially not when Tony was around. So it was always a treat whenever the two assassins swung in for a visit.

Natasha appeared a few moments later, giving her a small smile as she moved to stand besides Clint. Marnie didn't know what to say, so she just continued to make her sandwich, then figuring she should probably make some for the others, taking everything towards the stove so she could start preparing while she started to cook.

"Don't worry about us, we already ate," Natasha said, though Clint stopped her, reaching out to make himself his own sandwich, letting Marnie focus on making her own, "Clint, don't touch the stove."

"I'll cook it for him," Marnie offered, knowing fully well that Clint tended to have issues when it came to cooking, the man making a face at her, and she only laughed, checking to make sure she didn't burn one side.

There wasn't much to talk about, though Clint and Natasha did ask her what she was up to, to which she immediately launched into an explanation of everything that she was learning, as well as mentioning a little secret that she made them swear not to tell anyone; she had wanted to tell Bruce first, but she did want their opinions on whether or not she should consider it.

"That sounds like a great idea," Clint said, and she smiled, preening under the validation, starting to eat her grilled cheese, Clint already starting even though it was too hot.

As the two ate, Natasha just leaned against the counter, watching the both of them, and Marnie tilted her head at her, continuing to eat her sandwich, wondering what the woman was thinking, as she wasn't simply staring into space.

Clint noticed that as well and, after a moment, reached out to squeeze Marnie's arm, giving her a kind smile. "I'll talk to you later, Cheese, we'll hang out later, okay?"

"Okay," she said, watching him head downstairs, the man giving her a small wave as he disappeared, leaving her alone with Natasha.

"They ever tell you what your original name was?" Natasha asked, speaking first, and it wasn't a surprise that she launched headfirst into her questions, she was never the type of person to beat around the bush.

Marnie shook her head, thinking about all that had been revealed since the cleanup. "They tried to. They tried to take it off the news, but it was revealed, hopefully to deter any others who try the same thing, that was what Fury said anyways, but they doubt it. But they tried to tell me my name, their names, the names of everyone, but I didn't listen to any of it, only the people that I hurt, but Tony made them stop after number fifty."

Natasha didn't flinch, just staring at her, expression shifting ever so slightly, her eyes showing more of her empathy than she was used to; it wasn't hard for Marnie to understand why she was the way she was, but it was interesting to see how the outcome had been so different for her than it had been for Natasha.

"You switch names easily," she said, catching the redhead's attention, "And you remember everything. You were aware the whole time, I don't remember much of anything that happened to me. I don't want to remember. Do you want to forget?"

Natasha gave her a smile. A tight smile, the kind that wasn't trying too hard to be genuine, but not trying to be malicious. Marnie was still trying to get the hang of reading people, but considering the people she was surrounded by, she was learning nuance very quickly.

"I don't know," she said, and Marnie wasn't sure if it was an admittance, but they were words, "And I don't care too much to know. I'm just trying to continue living."

Marnie hummed, taking another bite of her sandwich, chewing thoughtfully before continuing. "We're very different."

Natasha shrugged and nodded. "I'm not disagreeing with you. But we have a lot in common to start out with, there was a reason I didn't trust you."

Marnie had to agree with her there. After all, their entire lives revolved around their work, starting from a young age, and they were taken in by organizations that, surprisingly, showed them mercy and they were both able to assimilate back into relative society, along with a slew of other factors. The differences began in their lives after the work.

"You got out better," Natasha finally said, with a small, but genuine smile, "I'm happy for you. Honestly, it's better that one of us is relatively okay."

Marnie smiled, reaching out to make Natasha a sandwich, the younger woman resigning herself to that, watching her with relative interest. "You're going to be fine, Natasha. You have friends and you can trust people. I know it's hard, but we care about you."

Natasha's smile grew tighter, but it wasn't all fake. "I don't think I can do that just yet. But if I do, you'll be the first to know."

That was good enough for now. Marnie smiled as she continued to make her sandwich, Natasha leaning against the counter more as she did, the two looking up when Clint reappeared with his tablet, talking to someone on the screen.

"Can I get another sandwich, that was really good?" the man asked, and Marnie laughed as she moved to set Natasha's onto the stove, already reaching over to make another one.

This was nice, she thought to herself, talking with the two—and Clint's boyfriend, Tensley—in the kitchen, cooking. There weren't any people to hide from, and while the two weren't there all the time, they weren't in any hurry to leave. It was just a steady day without the fear of imminent demise or pain.

She could get used to this.

º º º

One of Marnie's favorite activities was bothering Tony in his lab with Steve and Arabella. While Arabella wasn't free every day like Steve was, there was no shortage of entertainment to be had whenever they went down there.

Bruce wasn't with them that day as he was spending the day in his greenroom meditating—it had been a stressful adjustment for him as well, very present in all the work being done to make sure that Marnie was all taken care of in terms of paperwork—so it was just Tony, but that was more than enough entertainment in of itself as the man couldn't find it in himself to say no to any of them.

"Bella, please," Tony begged, watching Arabella use her powers to clean the equipment that he had told her to when she complained about being bored, "My hair's already turning gray, please stop."

Steve laughed from where he was sitting on one of the lab tables, just drawing. That was what he usually did when he was in the lab, with or without Marnie, though she did notice that he often spoke to Tony more when they were alone, drawing him when they didn't talk.

Tony whirled around to point at the younger blond, narrowing his eyes. "Aren't you supposed to be the responsible one?"

Steve just gave him an almost smug smile. "You've heard the real stories, Tony, that sound like me?"

"You're responsible except when it comes to yourself, so Tony is right, you should be making sure nothing bad happens," Marnie interjected, because she had been watching the entire scene from her own corner of the lab, her work laid out in front of her.

Tony pointed towards her with a shouted, "ha," and Steve could only sigh, raising up his palms with a, "You got me there. Bella, put it down."

"No fair, why're we all ganging up on me?" Bella whined, huffing as she put everything down, running a hand through her large mass of hair, "Listen, I'm gonna go get some food, does anyone want anything?"

Steve opened his mouth, about to tell her what he wanted, before sighing, setting down his things and rising to his feet, tapping the closed cover of his sketchbook before walking over towards her. "I eat too much to just tell you, I'll get it myself. Tony, we're getting you actual food, don't complain."

The man groaned loudly, Steve scoffing almost immediately, and Marnie giggled as she watched Steve give Tony a bright smile, the older man making a face to hide the fact that he was fighting back a smile of his own.

"He draws you," Marnie said, when it was just the two of them again, "I know you two don't always get along, but he does care about you. You're about the same, aren't you?"

Tony sighed, moving to sit in the chair across from her, giving her a tired smile. "You should go to grad school, get a degree in psychology, analyze people who want to be analyzed."

She hummed, thinking it over. "Maybe I will, but I think that I should get a job, try to fit into the general mold of society. Not everyone can be Bruce and just get PhD's to avoid the real world."

Tony laughed, more shocked than anything, but it soon smoothed out into a rather uncomfortable, but well intentioned smile. "I'm really happy he gave you a chance, you're one of my favorites, sweetheart."

She tried to smile, hoping that it was as good as she wanted it to be, and reached out to squeeze his hand. "Thank you for letting me stay here, Tony."

"Don't mention it," he said, reaching out to tap the underside of her chin, "Think about my offer, okay, you'd be a great asset and I want to make sure you're okay."

"Okay," she agreed, watching him pass by Steve's sketchbook, tapping the cover for a few moments before deciding against it, leaving it be as he made his way back to his own work.

Marnie hummed as she continued to work, thinking about all that she still had to learn in terms of the real world, and how, while she had made considerable progress, it was nowhere the amount that she needed.

But then Steve made his way back into the lab, looking incredibly confused as to what Arabella was explaining, but his expression was one of intense concentration, a want to learn more, and she figured that she was doing just fine the way she was; she didn't know as much as Steve, but he hadn't lost around three decades of his life, just pushing ninety years of the world's.

There was a difference.

So while she wasn't perfect, it was clear that there wasn't too much of a rush to get her fully caught up; the biggest hurdles were over, now she just had to pace herself, and with nothing to fear, she could do so with ease, which was more than what she was capable of just a few months prior.

She watched as Arabella moved to sit next to Tony, watching him work while edging the plate of food towards him, the older man trying and failing to ignore the way both she and Steve were eating right next to him, paying far too much attention to his work to be solely invested in it.

"We got you popcorn," Steve called, motioning towards the bowl that he had left at the edge of her table, giving her a smile, "Can't study on an empty stomach."

She smiled, hoping that it was as bright as she wanted it to be, reaching over and taking the bowl, smiling over to Arabella who gave her a thumbs up.

She could get used to this.

º º º

While things were going pretty well, it couldn't be said that there weren't times when things were incredibly hard.

Marnie sighed as she relaxed in Bruce's room, the TV louder than usual to drown out the thoughts that kept pushing through. There were a variety of thoughts, everything from memories that seeped in from the time Arabella accessed her memories to thoughts about what could have happened or what she should have done.

Those were the worst ones. She could live with the memories of what she had done and the attack on the tower, and she could live with the knowledge of what she had done but couldn't remember, but the hypotheticals were what truly got to her.

She took a deep breath as she reached up towards her arm, running her fingers over the raised skin. The brand had been something that had taken up most of her thoughts, and had been a point of tension between everyone because, as much as they wanted, it couldn't be fixed.

They weren't quite sure what it was of, most likely the logo that they used that no one could see, or would just begin to see depending on what they were planning. They weren't words, rather symbols, and the brand nearly circled her entire arm, more than halfway. A repeating pattern, it wasn't entirely uncomfortable now that she was used to it, but that didn't mean its existence at a whole was comfortable in any sense.

The brand was what brought up the hypotheticals, the theories, the self-loathing that defied everything that she had retaught herself, everything that she believed.

She hissed softly to herself as her mind began to shout, berating her for not following orders, for not doing what she was told. For hurting her friends by doing something as stupid as existing, disregarding the fact that they would have attacked the tower even if she had died.

The voices that had been so soft, only giving sharp reminders that she should have died, that she didn't deserve their kindness, so many things that weren't true, but she couldn't get away from, so many things that she had to be told over and over to forget. They had graduated from intrusive whispers to full blown shouts, and they were getting harder and harder to ignore.

As much as she loved where she was now, as much as she didn't want to be anywhere else, she couldn't help but feel guilty that she was there in the first place, not only because of the guilt of what she did to her victims, but mainly because she felt as though she betrayed the people who had taken her in some way.

She didn't know how to refer to them without calling them her masters, and from the way that they still had control over her, even from wherever they were, it seemed that they still were. Despite all they had done to her, she still felt as though she owed them something, as though she had manipulated them. It was a terrible thing to think, and she hated that she thought it, but she couldn't help herself.

It was an endless cycle of shame and it was utterly exhausting to be a part of, but there was no stopping it.

She whined, trying to push away the thoughts that were circling through her mind, flashes of the attack on the tower just behind her eyelids, replaying over and over, green and red and searing pain.

"Marn, are you okay?"

Marnie opened her eyes and looked up from where she had curled up underneath Bruce's covers to find the owner of said covers standing in the doorway, looking at her with a furrowed brow, just as surprised as she felt; she didn't remember moving from her position on top of the covers.

"It's so loud," she whined, because Bruce knew about the voices, and she knew what it was about.

Bruce sighed softly, looking at her sadly as he changed into more comfortable, clean clothes, climbing underneath the covers to sit with her, Marnie immediately pressing herself up against his side, trying to quiet her mind.

"Tony told me what happened in the lab today, he said you had something to tell me," he said, his voice breaking past the constant screaming in her mind.

She perked up, nodding eagerly as the news re-emerged in her mind, and she sat up so their shoulders were touching. "Tony is giving me a job at Stark Industries. I wouldn't be anything too much, just doing paperwork, but I'll have a job and I can go to the lower floors and do something."

Bruce smiled at her, and it was his happy, encouraging smile which she didn't see often because he seemed to always struggle to smile nowadays, and she smiled back, hoping that she was giving him a good one.

"It's good to see you integrating more," Bruce said, moving to hug her, and she hummed contentedly as they settled onto the covers, "Are you going to accept?"

She nodded, feeling a new kind of smile creep onto her lips, and she had seen it on Tony, but never on herself, so she could only hope she was doing it correctly. "Yes, but I do need a last name for my paperwork. You were in charge of doing that, have you given me one?"

Bruce scoffed, rolling his eyes as he remembered all the conversations he had to have with people who tried to give her a last name in order to have something, the man constantly complaining about how people at S.H.I.E.L.D. tend to forget that names are an extension of a person; Natasha didn't make any commentary, but she did share a small smile or two with Marnie and Arabella behind his back.

Still, it was a subject that stunted the progress of her full admittance, and there was a point where they tried to give her the name she used to have, forcing her to accept the fate of who she used to be, but Bruce threatened to Hulk out if they did, which was far too great a threat to be taken lightly, and had shocked everyone when he made the threat, though Fury did tell all the agents with guns at the ready to stand down, accepting that they would have to go the harder route.

Speaking of the Hulk, neither of them had truly gotten over the incident during the attack on the tower. It had been an interesting aftermath, Bruce waking up to Marnie next to him, ready to explain what had occurred before he was able to turn back.

He had walked around eggshells around her after that, trying to distance himself and get her as far away as possible, but Marnie wasn't too adept at understanding why at the time, and she certainly wasn't about to let him do that, not after all they had been through, and Bruce had no choice but to communicate with her, Marnie convincing him of the fact that he was just as dangerous to her now as he was for the past few months she had been with him, including all the times she had slept in his bed.

Bruce had explained to her that it was difficult to live in a constant state of self-loathing and hatred, that he hated himself and not himself all at once, yet they all correlated. She knew he was talking about the Hulk, which was strange in that they were both one and the same, yet so different. He told her about how he referred to him as 'Banner,' an indication that the Hulk was aware of who he was and saw themselves as a separate entity, but also worked to keep both of them safe, primarily for selfish reasons, a la not dying.

From the way he acted, and had acted, as Marnie realized when she thought about it, he seemed to have the constant thoughts as well, some quieter than others. Steve told her that he had many thoughts, most of which most likely needed medical treatment, though that wasn't as common back in his day, and he didn't tell anyone about them in the hopes he could push through on his own. Tony had those as well, and Arabella had told Marnie that she often stayed up late at night to figure out how she could help them, as she had the power, just not the ability, not yet.

Marnie wanted to ask her if she could quiet the voices in her head, but she had a feeling that the situations were far too different to be fixed in the same way. So she just tried to understand it on her own; she was still able to function, she just needed some time.

"Do you have any idea of what last name you want?" Bruce asked, breaking her out of her thoughts, "Because while it's more uncommon, people do change their last names, so it can be whatever you want it to be."

She nodded, shifting so she could rest her chin on his shoulder, pressed up so close to him that she might as well be trying to melt into him, and Bruce just held her, because while he was rather touch starved, she was a whole different case entirely, hugging her and wrapping the covers around them both as she thought.

"Can I use yours?" she asked, raising her head to look at him.

She could feel him tensing. She furrowed her brow as she watched his eyes flicker back and forth between her and the rest of the room. It was clear that he was thinking, and she had a feeling she knew what he was thinking about, his mouth open, ready to say no, to argue that she didn't want to take his last name, that she should make a decision for a last name for herself and that there would be certain things inferred if she did take his name, but when he looked into her eyes, something shifted, a realization, and Marnie could only hope that it was that he realized she understood the connotations, and she didn't care; this wasn't like her first name, she knew what she was signing up for.

But while he had said no to them being in a relationship, as she hadn't been as aware, she was becoming more aware of certain things, and while he was still reluctant to start a relationship when she was still trying to become stable, his voices weren't so loud so as to keep him from acknowledging that she was aware of so much more now.

Marnie hardly blinked as she stared up at him, waiting for an answer, and neither of them knew how long they spent just sitting there, both of them waiting for the answer, Bruce taking deep breaths as his mind raced, his hold on her almost tightening as he thought.

Then, finally, "If you want."

Marie gasped, sitting up and adjusting herself on his lap, facing him straight on, grabbing his head and holding it in her hands, staring at him with wide eyes, searching his face for any indication of mockery, but he just looked at her with the small, kind smile he always seemed to have for her.

She felt her chest constrict and her stomach flutter as her lips stretched into a wide grin, and it was a bright, sparkling grin that radiated from every part of her body, and she felt so comfortable in it, because it felt so right.

"I do want," she said, hugging him and pressing her face against his neck, "I really want, but I want you to want it, if you don't, I won't."

Bruce laughed, hugging her back, because even after all she'd been through, she focused so much on others more than herself. "Yeah, I'd like if you did. I think it'd sound nice."

"Marnie Banner," she tried, testing the name, and she felt an excitable squeal rise in her chest, because it felt so right.

Bruce leaned up and pressed a kiss to her forehead before maneuvering her back onto the mattress, still holding her, and she smiled, nuzzling against his neck, because in that moment, everything just felt right.

"Marnie Banner."

So there rested two individuals, broken beyond understanding, yet healing nonetheless. The inside voices would never truly cease, they never did for anyone, but some voices were louder than others, and while the voices hurt, other voices could rise above, just as any person. Things weren't perfect now, they hadn't been perfect then, and there was no expectation that things would be perfect later. But things were getting better, and that was all they wanted.

There rested two souls trying to heal, getting better every day with an even longer journey ahead. But they were together, and they were getting better. No guarantee for perfection, but they wouldn't have wanted it that way. But they would be okay.

Everything would be okay.

AUTHOR'S NOTE

( 03.02.19 )

I was debating on whether or not I should refer to Marnie as 'she' until the very end of this chapter, but I figured that I should let her have the entire chapter, just so it can sink in. I'll say more in the Afterword.

Thanks for reading and I hope you enjoyed!