It had started small, as nearly all big things do. At first, it was all right—it was almost good. It was okay. It was just a little thing, and he had twisted it into a good little thing.
Started out with just one little scar, one little line. Just one cut, throw on a Band-Aid, and no one ever knew. As long as he wore long sleeves, nobody would ever see it, and if they did, "lab accident" was usually enough to satisfy them.
The only one who knew otherwise about the handful of Band-Aids, the scratches, the cuts, and the long sleeves was JARVIS. Bruce had made him promise not to tell anyone—not Tony, not Steve, not anyone. JARVIS had agreed, but he seemed reluctant, even for an AI.
Bruce had tried to say it was just an experiment—just a test. If he could cut himself without turning in the other guy, that was a good thing, right? And when he did it more often, it was just a training of sorts. Training himself to stay in control. Capable of handling pain, injuries, whatever, and staying Bruce.
And then like nearly all small things do, it had gotten out of hand. The line of scars had crept up his wrist, gotten deeper, gotten darker. He had to wear long sleeves all the time now, and the weather was turning warmer. He wondered if someone would catch on to him eventually. He wondered if he could explain it away as an experiment. He tried it in his head—tried to convince imaginary Tony that it wasn't a big deal.
He didn't even convince himself.
Bruce buried his face in his hands. His wrist stung. Tears pricked the back of his eyes. He'd kept this a secret for so long…
"Mr. Banner." JARVIS's voice broke into his hearing. "Would you like me to call Mr. Stark?"
Bruce opened his mouth. He swallowed, his throat dry, and then tried again. "No, JARVIS. I'm…"
"Sir?"
His breath was shaky. He was okay. He could handle this on his own…
He caught sight of the razor blade on the table beside him, and his stomach turned. Everywhere in the lab were sharp things—everywhere were sharp things. He couldn't handle this.
"JARVIS?" His voice was soft, hoarse, but JARVIS heard him anyway.
"Yes, Mr. Banner?"
"Can… Can you call Tony after all?"