The Ultimates #15

Character Growth, Part One:

"Changes"

The Ultimates . . .

After facing down 9/11 most Americans thought they could persevere through it all but then disaster struck again in the form of a vicious superhuman known as Graviton and it was by sheer luck and overwhelming numbers that the black ops team known as "The Howling Commandos" had brought the immensely powerful man down. Almost immediately thereafter General Nick Fury had been tasked with forming a more public team to take care of threats like Graviton. With Uncle Sam's blessing Nick Fury trimmed down some of the excess programs and set about forming a super human team he had dubbed "The Ultimate Humans" or the more PR friendly "Ultimates".

The Story So Far . . .

Nick Fury revealed his Ultimates to the world with a bang during a rescue of the very guests who were there to see them. Jan teased the rash Bruce Banner into working feverishly on the super soldier serum overnight, missing his date with his new girlfriend Betty Ross. When Betty breaks up with him Bruce, self-injected with his new serum, turns into a massive Hulk that escaped the Triskelion and wreaked havoc downtown.

After causing hundreds of millions of dollars worth of damages the Ultimates were finally able to bring him down, Fury hiding Hulk's alter personality from the public. Banner is sent to super villain prison where the energy parasite Sauron soon sucks all of the Hulk's energy from Banner and uses it to cause a massive gamma explosion. He then escapes, leaving Bruce and all the Shield employees buried in the rubble.

Hulk escapes and Sauron uses his powers to turn New York into a prehistoric nightmare which the remaining splintered Ultimates must braved to end Sauron's prehistoric reign of terror once and for all, they nearly failed but for the intervention of the Hulk. Once Sauron was dead the Hulk demanded to be left alone and jumped off into the sunset.

Leonard Samson's initial thoughts on Henry Pym

I am left puzzled after my initial interview of Henry Pym. His interaction with me and his previous files simply do not add up. It could be that he has developed bipolar disorder and I am seeing a high emotional moment but I would hesitate to leave it as such. In his discussion he seemed grounded and able to convey his desires and fears without any sort of emotional reaction out of the norm. They spoke of depression and a constant focus on the past and others' achievements never his own. When he spoke with me he had very positive plans for his future and excited about his current post in the super soldier program even more so than the Ultimates. There is the possibility of Multiple Personality Disorder, I'll have to continue observations to rule that out completely.

If anything gave me pause for concern it was his relationship with Jan. It is obviously toxic. In my limited couples therapy experience I've never met such an obvious example of the woman emotionally and psychologically abusing the man. Obviously I've heard of much worse cases but I've yet to personally witness one. Henry seems to be coming to terms with the nature of their relationship though his reaction when he fully comes to terms with it could be severe. He loves her very much in his own unhealthy way. I have yet to determine how Jan sees their relationship.

While I may have a few concerns about Henry Pym, there is nothing currently that would warrant a desist order on his field activities. Since the Oversight Committee has insisted on evaluations on each member of the Ultimates and project heads I would recommend that Henry Pym remains active though he should remain under consistent psychiatric care.

Highway 40 outside Winslow, AZ

Time certainly does change everything. Not six months ago Bruce had been head of the Super Soldier program at Shield, making a healthy six figure income. Now he was a dust encrusted hitchhiker in desperate need of a shower and a good meal with no money to his name. His stomach growled horrendously. Bruce sighed.

Yesterday he had found himself awaking in the middle of the Arizona desert with no sign of civilization. He hadn't eaten since. How many episodes had that been since leaving New York? Banner wasn't even sure himself, at least eight or ten, though likely it was considerably more than that.

At least he hadn't been in the news lately. Everyone outside of the Ultimates thought he was dead. That was definitely for the best. The slight shimmering of a distant car on the empty highway caught Bruce's attention and he eagerly jammed a thumb into the air. He hadn't gotten used to hitchhiking in the past few months. There was next to nothing in his name, and what little there was Shield had their greedy hands on. Bruce couldn't believe his luck as the old beater began to slow.

"You headed to Winslow?" A gruff but kindly voice asked as the car stopped. "That's as far as I am headed."

"Sure." Bruce wasn't exactly sure where Winslow was or what he would do once he got there but anything had to be better than standing under the desert sun.

As usual when he had woken after an "event" he had woken naked. Between a hoodie he found in a random abandoned car and a few articles of clothing he had claimed from the roadside he had mostly clothed himself. There was still a problem though that made him worry about hitchhiking. He stunk. Really bad.

"You're looking like you could use some real help," the older man commented as Banner slid into the passenger seat. The man's face was marked with deep wrinkles that came only with age and years in the sun.

"I'm alright," Bruce mumbled. He hated when people wanted to delve into his life. What was he supposed to tell them? Hi, my name is Bruce and I have a giant hate-monster living inside me.

"I know a place we can at least get you a meal," the man smiled as he merged back onto the highway. "I can hear your stomach growling from here."

Bruce smiled nervously at the man.

"What's brought you out here a hundred miles from nowhere?" The man asked, waving familiarly at a passing SUV.

"Getting away from my other half," Banner replied cryptically.

The man guffawed all the way down deep in his gut. "I can understand that. Still, hell of a place to run to."

They fell into silence after Bruce failed to respond. It was a heavy uncomfortable silence, at least for Bruce. The weight of his secrets smothered his words and depressed his heart into quietude. Then came the guilt.

"I didn't catch your name."

"David."

Bruce couldn't believe he chose his father's name, though he supposed it was apropos seeing how his sperm donor of a father disappeared early in his life, his mother committed suicide the very next day. Bruce had no idea where the man was now, nor did he care. The real David Banner could rot in hell as far as Bruce was concerned.

"I'm Duane."

Bruce wished the man wouldn't seem quite so caring or sincere. It made the awkward silences and deflecting answers that much harder. He didn't want to be a jerk, but he couldn't afford to get too close to anyone. Especially not someone who reminded him of everything he was missing while on the run: friends, family and a sense of stability. No wonder he felt so hollow.

Soon . . .

Winslow's buildings were almost all built from either local desert stone or adobe, giving it a very drab brown feel. The last time Bruce had been to any town like this was when he had first emerged into Bioengineering and got stuck with a job in New Mexico. He hated the Southwest.

The pair pulled into a diner parking lot, a peeling sign announced the place as "the Brown Mug" in an equally brown paint. Inside they decorated with those tacky red chilli lights festooned everywhere. The counters and walls, obviously built and painted in the seventies, were absolutely cluttered with unnecessary memorabilia. It was so stereotypical that it made Bruce wince.

"Welcome back, hun!" a woman smiled at Duane as they walked in. "Go ahead and sit at the Harrison Ford table."

They sat and were immediately served chips and salsa. It was surprisingly delicious and obviously homemade. After some awkward pleasantries the two ordered Navajo tacos and dug in. Duane dove into his food with gusto. Before Bruce could even finish half his meal Duane was wiping his face with a napkin.

"I have to head back out to the base," Duane explained as he pulled a wad of bills from a cracking leather wallet. "I've already paid for your meal."

"Thank you," Bruce could feel his face flush as he said it. He wasn't used to accepting financial help from anyone.

"Don't mention it, David," Duane cocked a half-grin at him and rose from the table and shook Bruce's hand.

It wasn't until Duane left that Bruce realized he could hear the small TV jammed into a corner over the counter. He didn't like what he heard.

"Thank you so much for inviting us to be here, Ellen."

"Thank you so much for being here, Jan. Tell me, what's it like being the premier superhero couple in America?"

Bruce snorted into his food, nearly choking himself. Premier superhero couple indeed, the only thing Jan and Hank were an premier example of was a toxic relationship. Bruce shook his head as his former teammates continued.

"I have to admit it's a bit strange," Hank finally spoke up after a moment of chatter between the two women.

"What's strange?" Ellen turned to the scientist known as Giant Man. Jan glanced at Hank, her eyes narrowing.

"Being the premier superhero couple when in reality on a public stage this large it's not been done before. We're more like the pioneers than the premier couple. I think that's much more fun." Hank cocked a grin.

"Oh, I like that too," Ellen smiled and turned to the camera. "We'll be right back with Hank and Jan, pioneers of love."

Bruce rolled his eyes and began to scrape his plate clean. "Hey hun, the owner wants to meet you in the back, he wants to help."

It took Bruce a moment to realize they were talking to him.

Studio 11, Burbank, CA

"Truly a pleasure," Ellen extended her hand after filming had finally wrapped. Hank took it and smiled, noticing how Jan was already eyeing a cameraman.

"I heard Black Widow was secretly gay," Ellen turned and whispered not so confidentially to Jan.

"Well . . ." Jan began.

"Ellen!" The star's assistant called out urgently as she came scampering their direction. "The studio execs are here!"

"So sorry," Ellen quickly shook Jan's hand. "You know how the business is, we all have to answer to someone." With that she and her assistant were off in a flurry of primping and signatures.

"You did great," the cameraman nodded and smiled at them both. Hank scowled, Jan faux blushed and smiled.

"I'm sure it was all your doing."

"You're both easy to shoot."

"I'm sure you do good work out from behind the camera too."

"Alright, Jan, let's go!" Hank barked.

Jan rolled her eyes but turned and followed Hank out of the studio. There was a tense silence as they slid into their awaiting limo, a Shield agent at the wheel. The doors locked and the both looked out of their prospective windows.

"Why do you always have to humiliate me like that?" Hank finally breached the taut silence.

"What are you talking about?"

"Oh come on!"

"What? The cameraman? It was just a harmless joke, God! You are such a drama queen, Hank!"

"Don't even try to turn this back around on me!"

"That would be hard because you're the one who's always starting the argument! What do you expect me to do?"

"I only start arguments about your deplorable behavior!"

"My behavior? That's rich coming from you, you're an embarrassment!"

Silently the driver rolled up the dividing window, there was no telling when they would stop. She knew from experience.

The Streets of Manhattan

Steve Rogers sat in a cab, the traffic barely moving. He could have made better timing on foot, but the sight of Captain America running through the streets would cause concerns. So instead he sat staring at his city, so changed from his day.

When he had first awoken he had thrown himself into his work, tried to ignore the fact that everyone he had ever known was dead. Then he had tried to adapt, learn what he could about this brave new world but that just made his loneliness more apparent. Now he mostly just felt numb.

Steel and glass shimmered as he rode past, the occasional bystander would shout out while sound of horns blaring was near constant. Steve felt he had never managed to learn to fit into his new world. That was why he had been so shocked to receive the invitation that had led him to this cab ride. Tony Stark the billionaire industrialist, self-proclaimed futurist, and inventor of Iron Man had invited him over for lunch.

Steve had no idea how to approach a man of Tony's stature. He was still wondering what he was doing as he paid the cabbie and walked toward the massive spire that was Stark Tower. He walked into a massive entryway decorated by a golden statue of a beautiful robed woman pouring real water into silver and blue fountain below.

"Mr. Rogers," a beautiful young redhead approached him before he could orient himself. "I'm Pepper Potts. Mr. Stark is eagerly awaiting your arrival."

"Thank you, Miss Potts," Steve was relieved.

"Follow me."

Steve offered his arm to Pepper, she accepted it with a bemused expression. They walked toward a large glass elevator. The opulence of this place kept Steve constantly stunned as they entered the gold inlaid elevator and stared down on a massive garden that disappeared from view as they ascended into layers of shining steel.

"Mr. Stark rarely gets nervous about meeting guests, you must be quite someone to get him pacing like he has been."

Steve laughed, Tony was just as nervous as him, the idea shocked the super soldier. "I'm just a soldier, Miss Potts."

"Oh my god," realization dawned on the young woman's face. "You're Captain America! How didn't I put two and two together? I mean, what a pleasure it is to meet you, Captain."

"The pleasure's all mine."

The elevator dinged right as a blushing Potts opened her mouth to say something. "Saved by the bell."

"Pepper!" Tony's voice greeted them as the elevator doors opened. The billionaire stood in an Armani suit behind a green marble desk, the few objects on the desk were gold, even the computer.

"Let's show Steve the dining balcony." The executive assistant led them both to two glass doors and opened them with a push of a button. Before them was a small table set for two surrounded by lush plants and a small Asian style fountain.

"I'm sorry but I just can't bring myself to call you Mr. Rogers." Tony smirked as they sat down. Pepper rolled her eyes.

"I'm sorry, I'm not sure I understand," Steve placed the napkin in his lap. Pepper walked away with a smirk.

"Steve, I'm going to need you to update your entertainment knowledge. You don't mind if I call you Steve, do you?"

"Mr. Stark, I must be honest, I'm not sure you invited me up here today."

"Ever since you and your team rescued me in the Antarctic I have been keeping my eyes on you, Captain. I can review all of Iron Man's visual and audio logs. You seem like a truly decent man, and I hate to see you get mixed up with the likes of Nick Fury. Besides, you're a living legend, I had to meet you again."

"Mr. Stark, I'm not sure what you mean by 'the likes of Nick Fury'."

"Please call me Tony. I just mean that Fury might be a General but he got his reputation by being the world's top spy."

"Tony, spies are soldiers just like me."

"I'm just asking you to be careful, guys like Fury use people like you then throw them away when they're done."

"I'll take that under advisement."

"Now, come on. I didn't bring you here just to be all doom and gloom" Tony flashed him a smile and grabbed one of two champagne flutes offered to them. "It's come to my attention that your old apartment has been bulldozed and one of my subsidiary companies was responsible. As a way to make it up to you I've given it some thought and would like to invite you to stay in my family's mansion. Of course you'd be doing me favor as it's caregiver is boring me tears with his incessant whining about being lonely."

Steve was shocked at what he had just heard. "Mr. Stark, um Tony, I am in shock I don't know what to say."

"Yes is preferable."

"I'm a soldier, I'm more comfortable in the Triskelion barracks than I ever would be in a mansion."

"I should have expected this answer. I understand. Now, with that over, I heard you have a fondness for motorcycles. Would you like to see my collection after we finish lunch?"

"I'd like that," Steve smiled and he cut into his medium rare steak.

Triskelion Infirmary, NYC

Fury was glad he wasn't alone coming to visit Dane and Clint, otherwise known as Black Knight and Hawkeye. Walking next to him was the red haired bombshell Natasha Romanov also known as Black Widow. It was a small impromptu Howling Commandos reunion.

The nurse snapped to attention and saluted as soon as he entered the room. With a quick salute he dismissed her and she bolted for the door, Widow had that effect on people.

"When you two are done taking your mini vacation we could use you back on duty," Fury joked.

"Don't tease the useless and infirm," Widow chided in mock annoyance. "They can't help themselves."

"Useless?" Dane snarled incredulously. Clint simply smirked.

"You shouldn't tease them, Widow, in their delicate condition they are liable to overtax themselves."

Now Hawkeye frowned. "Delicate?"

"See here, Fury, you've upset them. I certainly hope it doesn't prolong their recovery, I've got no one else on the team that are such easy targets for teasing."

"Alright!" Dane groused. "I get it, I'll heal quicker. There! Are you happy now? You've upset the infirm!"

"Speak for yourself, Whitman," Clint laughed. "Thank you for the amusement."

"Glad to be of service, " Fury smirked but it quickly faded. "Now let's talk about what happens once you get out of here."

"Don't tell me we're going after the Hulk again." Clint suddenly didn't appear quite so self-assured.

"That's precisely what we're doing, Hawkeye."

"Has he made any noise since the last incident?"

Fury grimaced. "No."

"Then why don't we just leave him alone like he told us to?"

"You would have me let a nuclear warhead run loose across America?"

"The only time Hulk seems to be a problem is when we go after him. Maybe we should let well enough alone."

"I can't believe I'm hearing this from you."

"It's just a suggestion."

"Some suggestion."

"We need a way to track it, first," Widow finally intervened after an awkward silence.

"Leave that to me," Fury glared at Clint with his one steely eye before turning on his heel and leaving the room.

"He's under a lot of pressure from the World Security Council," Widow excused before following her commanding officer out the door. Dane and Clint looked at each other doubtfully.

Winslow, AZ, One Week Later

Bruce's hands were beginning to grow accustomed to the constant scalding water. He sprayed yet another pile of dishes before dumping them into the soaking water. Three doctorates and here he was, Bruce Banner, dishwasher. Mom would be so proud. Though he supposed it was better than his other title, fugitive.

He should be moving on but things were better than they had any right to be. The owner, a plump Native American woman, had not only given him a job at the The Brown Mug as a dishwasher but had given him a small apartment for free for the first month. He knew it

was a bad idea to accept. Was it too much to hope for a roof over his head and a steady warm meal? Bruce hoped not.

Even better his co-workers were actually nice to him. There was first time for everything after all. Jessica, one of the young waitresses, approached with a tray full of dishes.

"Only a few tables left, David" she smiled shyly at him.

Bruce didn't even bother to look up as he took the dishes, his brain was absorbed in calculations. Ever since he realized he was going to have some time he had begun to work on figuring out how he'd mutated from before.

"Thank you," He said when he realized the young blond was still standing there.

"What are you doing after work?"

"Going to bed."

"Oh."

"Jessica I really appreciate all you do, you should go have a great night out with some guy your own age."

"I didn't mean. . ."

"I know," Bruce lied. "I'm just giving you friendly advice to go enjoy yourself before you get old like me. You take things far too seriously."

"Oh. Thank you."

"You bet," Bruce still didn't look up still but he smiled. Jessica left to go clean one of the last tables of the night. David/Bruce smiled as he went back to work with his hands and inside his head.

Triskelion, NYC

Hank straightened his lab coat, it was always going askew. He marched toward the large open deck where his small squadron awaited. He opened the door to see the eight soldiers waiting in salute.

"Ever since I took over the Super Soldier Program I have promised that one of you would get the chance to be a super soldier just like Captain America. Where Bruce Banner failed, we will succeed. Soon, I will have the process ready to test on a human. One of you."

"You drive them too hard, Hank," the scientist was surprised to see his girlfriend walking out onto the training deck.

"They have to be better than anyone before them."

"Some of them," Jan turned and looked at a young black officer. "Already look . . . perfect."

The good soldier didn't move or react.

"Speaking of which," Hank called out through gritted teeth. "You need your nutrients to maintain those bodies. Go get some breakfast!"

"Sir!" His loyal soldiers called as they saluted and took off in an orderly fashion, closing the door behind them.

"Hello, Jan."

"Oh, you took away my fun."

"You'll have plenty soon enough."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means my patience has finally run out. I've realized I deserve better than this. I'm a literal genius AND a superhero!"

"You're nothing without me!"

"It's too late, Jan," Hank said, a warm surge running through his chest as he finally said what he'd been longing to say. "I'm better than this! You can't hurt me anymore! I am Giant Man and I am done with you, it's over!"

"But!" Jan was in total shock, she had never expected him to stand up for himself. "I never did anything to deserve this."

As far as Hank was concerned she was grasping at straws now. His vision was finally clear. She didn't care about him at all, never had. It had always been about what he could do for her.

"Nothing you say or do is going to change my mind," Hank turned and walked toward the door. "Good bye, Jan."

He walked away even when she began to shriek how worthless he was, even when she cried and begged him to come back, even when she told him she knew he'd be back. Nothing she did changed his course of actions.

He just didn't care anymore.