Disclaimer: I own nothing, nada, squat- besides the plot

A/N: It's late

'thinking'
"talking"
Hulk desu

Chapter One

Bruce Banner yawned. His thin-rimmed, doctor-man glasses were placed on his bedside table and his scruffy brown jacket hung on the knob of his Stark Tower bedroom door. Running his fingers through his limp-crimped brown hair that was sprawled across his pillow, he sighed and closed his eyes.

This was seemingly the worst day of his life. First off, his team had completed a whole save-the-world mission without him. Tony just kept telling him to stop moping and help them with the next one, but this just made him furious: a bit of a green-tinted furious. Second, what made him the maddest was that Fury had afterwards taken both Tony and Steve to see a movie; and they wondered why Bruce was as gloomy as he seemed. Fury had apologized, saying that he didn't mind him taking a break now and then to work on his own affairs, as if it were his fault this was all occurring.

What affairs? When did he ever do anything? What was with these people!?

Some time we need time off. Some time away from 'missions', some time alone with Hulk and Bruce.

'Be quiet! That's not the point!'

Hulk is right.

'I am trying to sleep!'

Then why you think to Hulk?

'UGH.'

This seemed to be one of Bruce's latest pastimes: either arguing with the Hyde to his Jekyll or complimenting him on his most lovely performances during a fight. Yet lately he had no chances complimenting Hulk on anything due to his 'so called' teammates and his 'so called' affairs. It was pathetic, really.

Bruce… Hulk have question.

'What is it now!?'

Do not mad, Hulk only help Bruce.

'Alright, alright, what's the problem?'

What type movie did Tony Man and American go see?

At that moment, Bruce's eyes flew open wide. Jumping out of bed, he tore his jacket off of the door and flung it over his ruffled purple shirt and little white fanny-pants and began to sprint out of his quarters and down the hall to the elevators.

'What a question Hulk, what a question. It must be answered!'

Tony Stark moaned and rolled out of his bed as his door received a pounding. He let his blurry vision wander down to Pepper: fast asleep and probably dreaming about running or some shit.

'It can't be anyone bad, otherwise J.A.R.V.I.S. would have set of a warning.' He took in a deep breath before reaching for the handle. "UGH"-he cried, pulling away and clasping his hands over his nose. 'Banner you bastard! Why the Hell do you always have to smell like cats, aftershave and burritos!? Do you ever wash your clothes!?'

Tony huffed out a little breath and opened the battered door to find an angry, yet relatively composed looking Bruce Banner standing before him. He tried to suppress a laugh. Bruce obviously hadn't thought much of their meeting; his usual brown jacket and purple shirt was un-ironed and unbuttoned and loosely hung over top a nice pair of whiteys. Tony felt embarrassed for him.

"TONYYOUSHORTASSBASTARD! WHATTYPEOFMOVIEDIDYOUANDTHOS EFUCKINGTRAITORSGOANDWATCHWI THOUTME!?"

Tony gaped in confusion. 'What the hell did he say…?'

"Please, Bruce, repeat yourself… a whole lot more… slowly,' he cooed gently, raising his hands in attempt to fend off the pulpy green man, or to possibly wave away the scent of old burrito mince.

Bruce took a deep breath and begun again. "What…what was the particular genre of cinematic feature did you traitors go to view while I was on my… 'so named' vocational afternoon?"

Tony raised his eyebrows. "In English please!" he barked.

Bruce let out a war-cry of fury. "THE BLOODY MOVIE! WHAT WAS THE STYLE OF MOVIE THAT YOU AND THOSE SCUM-SUCKING SHITS SAW!?"

"Ah…"

They stood in silence for some time with the slight interruption of Bruce's still enraged breaths from the long trip to Tony's level of Stark Tower.

Tony gave Bruce the quick once-over. This seemed to be the first time that he had seen him without his pants on before…

"TONY"-

"Oh right… what were we talking about again?"

"THE GODDAMNED MO"-

"Oh yeah, that."

They stood silently again.

"Well, from what I recall…" Tony began in a droning tone, "was that Cap and Fury screamed a few times and clung to each other a lot… and those stupid movie staff people wouldn't let me wear my suit into the cinema…"

Silence overcame them once more.

"Horror."

It was so quick, Bruce didn't catch it. "What?"

"It was a horror movie, if I am not mistaken."

Tony watched as Bruce's eyebrows twitched and his eyes glazed over with internal grief. Horror just happened to be his favourite.

"Tony… Tony you bastard!"

Tony howled in pain as Bruce's enlarged green fist landed firmly into his unsuspecting stomach, knocking the wind out of him completely. He fell to his doorstep in a haze, watching a greenish, screaming and possibly crying Bruce tear off his jacket to hold it above his head as he ran down the street back to his home, his tighty-whiteys stretching enough to cause a tear at his back crack.

'Maybe we should have invited him…'

Bruce sat on the front steps of Stark Tower, legs draped over the stairs leading down from the main entrance and head bowed allowing his droopy bed hair sway with the midnight wind. Yes, he was in an even worse mood now. He really shouldn't have gone to Tony's... he made a wrong call.

It seemed so horrible for him to be different to everyone else. People hardly remembered his name and when they did… being the Hulk isn't that bad, is it…? So what if he has some problems? Who doesn't? Steve is about a 100 year old virgin. Fury cries while watching Legally Blonde. Pepper is a man. He doesn't complain about his other friends' habits or issues!

'Bruce. Bruce! That isn't the point!' He tensed. 'You're right me!' Pulling his legs from the stairs, he stood up. 'Hulk, what should we do!?'

It good you consult Hulk.

'Drastic times call for drastic measures.'

A light shone above his head in the black, cloudless sky.

Look star, Bruce… make wish…

'What?'

Hulk continued, there shooting star in sky… make wish before it too late… what would Jesus do?

Bruce gasped. "You're RIGHT!"

He dropped to his knees and clasped his hands together. Bruce was going to make a wish.

'I wish… that tomorrow will be my day… I wish it will end up like a movie: a horror movie… one where no one will know the outcome… it shall be a full-on real life horror movie, where everyone has to be involved and has to involve me.

I wish…'

Little did Bruce know as he peacefully made his way back to his room was that some wishes may actually come true…

and he fucked up royally.