A few days later.
Hawk drove the freshly repaired black Audi A8 from Gongrong Insurance, with Gwen in the passenger seat, toward JFK Airport.
Today was Gwen's flight to California, where she would visit UC Berkeley.
Originally, George had wanted to take her. He'd even brought it up at dinner the night before—only to be firmly rejected by Gwen.
Hawk parked, pulled her luggage from the trunk, and together they walked arm in arm toward the entrance.
"Will someone be meeting you there?" he asked.
"Relax. Berkeley's sending someone."
"…Alright."
"If you're worried, you could always come with me," Gwen teased, eyes bright. "Maybe someone will try to kidnap me again."
Hawk only looked at her silently.
After a pause, he replied flatly, "There won't be."
"You sure?"
"Yes."
This was the first time—and the last. Betty Ross's scheme had failed. No one would dare try again.
At the gate, as they waited for boarding, Hawk handed Gwen a slip of paper with a number written on it.
"What's this?"
"Your protection in California. You'll probably meet her as soon as you land."
Gwen blinked, then laughed softly. "I was joking, Hawk."
"I wasn't." His tone was deadly serious. "Just in case."
She frowned. "I thought the kidnapping case was over."
"It is. But one loose end remains."
Betty Ross was gone. But Bruce Banner was still alive. That was the uncertainty.
"Hawk." Gwen clasped his hand gently. "Don't let your heart turn restless. Bruce Banner is innocent—for now."
The official line was already clean: the FBI announced they'd killed a rogue officer linked to the kidnappers. NYPD had no idea what to make of it.
Gwen, though, knew the truth. Hawk hadn't hidden it from her. She knew Betty Ross had used her marriage as part of a revenge plot.
And Gwen had felt no sympathy. Only contempt.
She was kind, but not naïve. A would-be murderer deserved no tears.
Bruce Banner, though? That was different. He was just another victim of Betty's manipulation.
"If Betty really loved him, she'd have wanted him happy," Gwen said then, echoing her thoughts now. "Not drag him into this."
Hawk had almost killed Banner along with Betty. Gwen had stopped him.
She had said the same thing: Betty deserved her fate. But Bruce… Bruce was pitiful.
"Please, Hawk. Wait. If he really falls into her trap, if he comes after you—then I won't stop you. But don't stain your hands yet."
Hawk met her eyes.
Then smiled faintly. "Alright. We'll wait."
Moments later, Gwen's flight began boarding. She hugged him, kissed him lightly, and left.
Half an hour later, her plane pierced the clouds.
Hawk turned away, walked to the airline counter. "One ticket to Paris. In half an hour."
From there, he'd fly straight to Africa. He already had a car waiting at the airport.
…
Meanwhile, in Jersey City, a funeral was being held.
Few guests attended, but every one of them carried weight.
Pepper Potts arrived first, dressed in mourning black. "Bruce. I'm sorry. Tony wanted to come, but Dr. Zhao won't let him travel during treatment."
Bruce forced a wan smile. "He called me last night. I understand."
Then Sharon Carter came, bringing Steve Rogers' condolences.
"His aunt's condition worsened," she explained. Bruce only nodded. "It's fine."
Later Natasha Romanoff and Clint Barton came. But mid-conversation, their phones buzzed with urgent alerts.
Bruce spared them with a tired smile. "Go. I'll be fine."
One by one, they left.
The funeral ended. Sunset painted the sky.
Bruce stood alone before Betty's grave, staring at her smiling photo.
A shadow approached.
"Condolences."
Bruce turned. The black coat. The eyepatch.
"Nick."
Fury nodded slightly, his single eye resting on the headstone. "Too young. Too reckless. I thought marriage meant she'd finally let go."
Marriage.
Bruce gave a bitter smile.
Fury exhaled, patted his shoulder. "A shame, especially for the child she carried."
Bruce stiffened.
His head snapped up, eyes wide. "…What did you just say?"
"The child," Fury said, surprised. "You didn't know? Last week, when she came to S.H.I.E.L.D.'s hospital—they found she was a month pregnant."
"…."
Fury frowned, realization dawning. "Of course. Hand and the others are all peace-first types. Naturally, they wouldn't tell you."
Bruce stood frozen.
Silent.
…
(End of Chapter)
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