This just kind of came out of nowhere. I liked it. I hope you do too. :D

He sat up and clutched his head in his shaking hands. He couldn't run from that nightmare fast enough. The bed was soaked with his sweat. He tried to push the memory of the dream off of him, but it was too heavy and fell back, crushing him. Under its weight, pitiful sobs escaped him. His knees drew up to his chest as he continued to cough out the ugly sounds. In only seconds he literally couldn't see though his tears. Rubbing his hands over his pant legs, Bruce tried to rid the sensations from his finger tips, from his palms. Still the feeling of bones crushing under his grip remained. More painful moans dragged themselves up and out of his heart. The wall behind his bed greeted his fingers as they searched in the dark for something, anything real, solid. Bruce hauled himself onto his knees to face the wall. Opening his palms wide against it, he pressed his forehead to the cool surface. Steady breaths tried and failed. New jarring sobs tore each one apart. One thump against the wall was all it took. Some glimmer of relief. He threw his head against the wall again. Harder this time. He did it again and again, until night descended on him once more.

Then, he felt the morning sun on his face.

By the time he stumbled into the bathroom that bright morning, the throbbing in his head had started. One glance in the mirror told him he'd be barraged with questions from Tony. F*ck it. He'd just tell Jarvis he was sick. Tony would hopefully take it at face value and leave him alone. His left cheekbone was bruised and the goose egg to the left of his forehead was painfully obvious. His lip was also split.

Bruce looked down into the sink. He had no desire to look at himself anymore. Pathetic.

A sudden rage came over him and his knuckles turned white as his grip tightened on the sides of the sink.

I hate you.

A deep rumbled sounded at the back of his mind.

Last night he'd beat himself unconscious just so he wouldn't have to be afraid anymore, just so the guilt would release him. What happened? He'd been good. Three months. Three months he'd been here with the Avengers. He'd felt strong, empowered. The guilt had faded into the background and the fear forced into the closet. But all in one go last night it had blasted out of him and he could not hold it back. Agony. That's what it felt like.

And for what?

Some big green f*ck, who lived inside him.

I never asked for you to protect me. You f*cked everything up!

All at once Bruce's whole body seized and he fell to the floor.

F*ck you! his mind screamed. "I'm not sorry" he grit out from between his teeth. "You did this to me and you can't protect me from you!"

His spine blazed with pain. Bruce gasped for breath.

"No!" he pounded his fists down on the bathroom floor. "No!"

You stay down! This is my body! Not yours!

An angry roar tore through his mind, but he didn't budge.

No.

He took a breath and released it. Again. In and out. "I'm in charge. I'm in charge." He repeated between each deep breath. Shoulders gradually relaxed and the burning in his spine soon cooled to nothing. His fists uncurled, fingers spread out on the tile. Finally he blew out one final breath and lifted his body from the floor.

The mirror was still there, waiting for him. He turned and looked into his own brown eyes. No green. Just Bruce.

"Me." He said. "Not you."

Deep in him he sensed a rumble like the far off thunder of a passing storm.

You have no idea how much I appreciate reviews. :D

I wasn't trying to portray that Bruce hates the Hulk... though maybe he does? They definitely have their bad days though. I really dig the Will vs. Passion aspect of Bruce/Hulk. That's what I find most compelling about Banner and The Hulk. Half the time for me he's a metaphor for our lives. We all have to deal with that inside of us and there are battles. I hope that came across and not just darkness. Struggle is ok. It's what we do. :D