Disclaimer: You know it. I know it. Lawyers know it. I own nothing.
How to Break a Man
His hands. Why is it so hard to focus his vision? Calloused and bruised and green… Blood? No, not blood! It can't be! The quivering scientist slowly raises his eyes to face the carnage strewn about him. He is in Stark Towers. At least, he thinks he is. The rubble, expensive rubble, indicates as much, but… Is he responsible?
As if in a daze, Dr. Banner stumbles about the disaster zone, emotionally caught between warring forces of dread, horror, and guilt? He cries out as his bare feet are pierced by jagged shards of glass. The scientist wonders as he limps towards clearer ground. This blood: is it his?
Refusing to acknowledge the implication, Dr. Banner collapses onto what once was a couch and begins the painstaking process of removing the glass imbedded in his soles. As he does so, a rush of frigid air sends shivers coursing through his body. He looks up.
The long, seamless windows are gone, granting both wind and moonlight entry. Banner tilts his head. A sea of shattered glass sparkles within the pale light, almost like snow. So clean, so beautiful, yet washed in blood. His body jerks, and he blinks, now seeing only the pristine beauty of the glass sea.
With a desperate, anguished cry, he leaps to his feet and dashes across the glass and onto the ruined balcony, ignoring the slight prickling beneath his soles. Just like the Other Guy. He does not realize that he has mouthed the traitorous words.
Dr. Banner stops short once in the open air. Blood. It's all he sees, all he smells. The sharp metallic odor invades his flaring nostrils, and dark red colors his vision. Green…? Between flashes, he glimpses twisted limbs and matted hair littering the debris.
Shivering violently, he looks down and fully comprehends his state of undress. He sees the smooth skin. Where are his scars? The wind freezes him before his mind can even begin to consider the answer. Then he hears it.
A vengeful roar that strikes terror into his heart. A furious, strangled sob that chills his veins and arteries and chokes within his throat. Does it belong to him? No. It belongs to the hunched monstrous figure rising from the rubble. The figure turns its head, and Banner flinches. It is the Hulk.
Bewildered, but irate, the Hulk lurches and lumbers towards the stiff scientist, whose heart strains to burst within his chest. Stop, it hurts! Bruce! His eyes widen. He hears the strange sound and thinks that he should recognize it. Breaking from his stupor, he swings around.
The sea of glass twinkles at him.
Then he feels a hot, erratic breath on his neck. Why does it freeze his sweat? Or, is he on fire? The breath does not comfort him, and he wants to flee. Why won't his legs move?! "You," a throaty voice growls, and Banner hears the seething wrath. "Killer."
"No," the scientist whispers. His heart rate increases, and the world spins to a dizzying tune.
"Killer."
"No…?" Red hazes his vision.
"Killer!"
"No!" His raised voice infuriates the monster, and he is lifted by rough, unforgiving fingers. As his naked form is hurled from the balcony, he allows consciousness to slip from him until all is dark. Except for… one…tiny…shard…of glass.
Poor, poor Dr. Banner. Life is unfair to deal him a bad hand and then force him to live through the horror. I'm thinking of adding another bit, perhaps a reaction. Any thoughts?