Disclaimer: Not mine.

Warnings: Language, appalling use of 1st person, MENTIONS OF SIH SO BEWARE! TRIGGERS! Nonsensical rambling.

Bad day for sanity

"... uce..."

"Bruce!"

I blink as the voice filters through my consciousness and rational thought returns, turning my head to the side lazily I catch a pair of worried, fearful eyes staring back into my own. My mind is fuzzy and everything is disjointed and feels somewhat surreal, like I just woke up from a long sleep but I knew that wasn't possible. The last thing I remembered was standing at the sink in Tony's kitchen, it had been my turn to do the dishes and Tony had offered to dry and then, then there was nothing... A big fat blank.

"Bruce! Talk to me Big Guy."

Eyes acting on automation they open and close struggling to focus on the figure stood beside me. I take in the almost frightened look on Tony's face and follow the way his eyes flicker downwards, somewhat perturbed by how close the man is to me. He's still talking, in that hyperbole, hyperspeed way of his and the next thing I realize is that he's reaching forward and gently grabbing hold of my arm. Completely baffled by the movement I look downwards to where our bodies are touching and feel a small 'oh' catch in my throat.

Tony's hand is gripped around my forearm attempting to stem the flow of blood pouring from several open gashes as he bandaged them up. Admittedly disturbing but not as much as what was in my other hand.

A kitchen knife, stained red.

I knew my track record was bad but had I... Had I done this to myself? And if so how did I not remember.

Panic, shame and disgust set in at the realization that the other man had seen the whole thing, whatever it was and I needed to get away but Tony's grip on my arm remained firm.

"Calm down Big Guy, everything is cool... Just breathe for me."

I took several deep breaths attempting to calm the wildly flaring emotions warring within me, it would not do to let the 'other guy' out on top of whatever the hell had just happened.

"Tony, did I...?" My voice sounds meek and completely unlike myself.

"You don't remember?"

I shake my head no as his brow furrows in confusion. Just what the fuck had happend?

"You really don't?"

Tony questions again and I feel my temper fray slightly.

"I wouldn't fucking ask otherwise, just tell me."

The billionaire gave a sigh.

"I'm not entirely sure... One minute you're fine laughing and joking the next your face goes completely blank and you decide to go all Michael Myers on yourself, which by the way was a shitload scarier than that tripe they call horror."

I can tell he's trying to ease the fear in my mind by trying to joke about what just happened and I appreciate the gesture but it doesn't work as well as he had hoped. I can feel the shame rearing it's ugly head as I come to the conclusion of what a complete fuck up I am, I can't even control myself what chance have I got controlling the Hulk?

The realization that I have to run again hurts, I'd finally begun to feel like I was a part of something but I could not allow myself to hurt anyone.

I tugged my arm away forcefully wincing slightly and startling Tony out of whatever he'd been ranting on about. He glared and folded his arms across his chest.

"No... "

There is a moment of silent confusion.

"No what Tony?"

"Don't play coy with me Banner... I know that look..."

"Look?" I ask more out of politeness than curiosity.

"Yeah... The I'm running away because shit's getting a bit too real look."

I bristle and feel my eyes narrow into a glare and when I retort I make my voice as cold as possible.

"Whatever you say Stark, after all you're so well adjusted."

It's a low blow, I know it is and there is a brief flicker of hurt before the usual smug mask is back oozing falsified confidence. He turns on his heel and raises his hand in a mockery of a wave before storming off leaving with some words of wisdom that feel like a stinging barb piercing my chest.

"I might not be the most well adjusted person but I don't just run at the first bump in the road, at least not anymore. I learned that I had to man up and face shit and that I learned from those closest to me even if I did bitch and whine and try to push them away. When you're done being afraid maybe we can do something about all the shit going on in your head but you need to stop running first."

He leaves then, leaving me alone with my thoughts and his words echoed in my mind.

But try as I might I can't reconcile with myself.

I'm lost.

And I might have just thrown away my only anchor.

~End~

A/N: Loosely based on real events... Sorry had a very bad day & attempting to work through the minefield that is my brain/ life using word vomit. Apologies if you were expecting a masterpiece.