Tears like liquid diamonds shone in his eyes as he held his breath and squeezed the trigger of the gun he held between his teeth.
Naked, face down in the dirt, his shoulders hitching, he sobbed. Something fractured within him. He couldn't even give up. He wasn't even allowed that small victory. He felt hollow, shocked, and cold. He had no idea where he was, how far he'd rampaged. The effort it took to stand up was almost too much and he swayed like a newborn foal.
I have to get back home. But it's not home anymore.
A he began to trek he made plans. He'd have to move. Find somewhere else off of the grid. Again. He sighed. As he walked, he tried to look straight down. No use. He saw signs of destruction as he passed - broken trees, crying children, animals stirred into frenzies. His nudity went unnoticed; everyone was more or less in shock and emergency mode.
When he finally got back to the beginning, he picked up his gun. He hid it as best he could against his bare thigh and made the rest of the trip home. A he collapsed into bed he shivered convulsively.
I wonder who I hurt today. The thought made him curl into as tight a ball as he could. He lay there. He breathed deeply and steadily as he focused. All the pain and frustration, shame, and fear he felt he melted together and he imagined pushing it through himself to his core. He felt it fueling his underlying anger. The never ending presence ate it like flame at paper.
It would be a wound forever, he knew, but if he channeled it he hoped he could get a better rein on himself.
When he woke hours later he was unreplenished. But there was work to do. Sick, injured, dying, and some of it his fault. He'd have to finish what he could before he fled.
Dr. Banner buttoned his shirt, rolled up his sleeves, and stepped out into his chaos.