Now, Tony hugging him had been one thing. He had been reluctant, but it was just Tony, and really, he had already been attached to the guy if he admitted it or not anyway. It would be hard to leave Tony behind whatever he did. It didn't make a difference. Much.
No, it really started to get tough when out of the blue, Clint hugged him.
It was after another battle. Hulk had done his smashing, and had done his smashing well. It had left Bruce exhausted, even more than normal, which said something.
When he woke up he lay in a pile of rubble - nothing out of the ordinary there. What was out of the ordinary was the fact that his pile of rubble was shared. Clint Barton sat next to him quietly, staring off in the distance. Bruce carefully sat up. Well, this was certainly unusual. A pair of pants was thrown into his lap. "Goodmorning, sweetie." Clint looked at him, his lips stretching into a grin at his startled expression. He shook his head. And immediately regretted that decision. He growled in unpleasant surprise when a skull splitting pain shot up his neck.
"Whoah there, big guy. Take it easy," Clint rushed over. Supporting him, he carefully helped him stand upright. Bruce's head was swimming.
"What- what happened?" he asked.
Clint picked up the pants, offering him the piece of fabric. "You were transforming back when one of the buildings nearby collapsed. You got hit in the head pretty hard."
That confused him.
"Didn't the other guy…?"
"Surprisingly, no. You just growled defensively and then just shut up. You shrank really fast after that."
Bruce gingerly took the pants. He frowned. He must have been too far into the transformation for the hulk to lash out again...
"Where-"
"The others are on their way. I was the only one present. Hulk and I had teamed up on one the big flying one. We kicked it's ass all the way to China. But by the time we were done it had crashed a little far out of the fighting scene. Hence, we're sitting on a farm." He gestured around him.
Bruce hadn't noticed the grasslands surrounding them. He glanced up, and found that the sun hung lower than expected. He shut his eyes with a grunt of pain. Light and headaches did not go well together.
Clint asked him "You okay?". He sounded concerned.
Now that was something that didn't happen very often.
"Yeah, I'm fine. It's just the light." He frowned and blinked a couple of times.
"It's already better."
Clint nodded.
They were silent for a moment, and Bruce stifled a yawn. He was really, really tired. His eyes drooped. His head had drained most of the energy he had left, which hadn't been very much to begin with.
Under Clint's scrutinizing gaze he sat down on in front of a big rock. It was hard, but he didn't care. His mind was all fog and he just wanted to sleep.
He sighed. In a haze he heard Clint speaking to his earpiece. It was a quiet mumble in his head. He leaned his head back and closed his eyes, drifting off.
Then he felt two strong arms wrap around him firmly. He opened his eyes just in time to see Clint slide between him and his rock. He tried to move away in a hurry, but his attempt was cut off by his arms collapsing underneath him.
Clint caught him easily and sat down behind Bruce, pulling the protesting scientist closer, sitting him practically in his lap.
"You are not going to be sleeping against a rock, Bruce."
Bruce tried to wriggle free, but he was too tired to shrug off Clint's hands.
"I just slept on rubble, I'll be f-f- f-fine" he frowned, yawning grudgingly.
Clint just stretched out his legs in front of him, capturing Bruce in between, forcing him stop moving.
"I don't care. You'll get some strange form of hernia. I'll wake you when the others are close."
Bruce still tried to protest faintly, but really, he knew it was all futile. He was too tired and Clint was too strong. He couldn't fight the arms that pulled him to the archer's heart, and to be honest, he didn't really want to. Clint was piercing his defences with an ease that should have been frightening, but somehow his mind hadn't processed that emotion yet. He didn't have the strength to pull away even if he could.
God, he knew it would hurt later, when he had to go. He knew, and couldn't bring himself to care.
Not now. Now, all he wanted was to lean back into Clint and let the other man shift his head onto his shoulder, closing strong arms around him in a safe cage of warmth, protecting him from himself.
He was out within seconds.
When he woke up, he was in a bed, and a plate of food was on his night stand A note was tucked underneath it. Careful not to move his head too much, he picked it up.
Sorry I didn't wake you. You looked like you needed it.
If you get food poisoning, blame Thor. He helped.
– Clint
PS if Tony is being an ass, tell me. I'll hide his alcohol stash.
Bruce chuckled faintly. Then he sighed. He had a problem. A serious problem. Groaning, he hid his face in his pillow.
Why did they have to make leaving so fucking hard.
