Okay, sorry for ENORMOUSLY long break between chapters, but hey look! A new one!
(Also - I have another degree now. I'm collecting them. Degrees are the new Pogs.)
As always, not mine, no money, no sue.
Chapter Three
Bruce
Bruce waited in the lounge long after the battle had finished and the coverage had ended, the fingers of his good hand twisting in the material of his trousers over and over. He stared through the television blankly, stupidly, even as Pepper sighed, stood and left with a soft pat on his shoulder. Ads and programs danced across it, men and women smiling glossily and enticing him to buy now, now NOW - and he just sat there, like a lump.
He knew, consciously, that he was worried. He was certainly acting out the physical actions of a man who was worried. And yet it felt like only living through the motions. Once more the numbness had stolen any feeling he should have had. Empty again.
Shut up, Hulk.
A metallic clatter jolted him out of his stupor, and he jerked his eyes away from the dull-blurred screen.
"Well, that's it. That is the definitive It. Screw it all. Damn!"
Tony was stalking along the landing strip leading into the large lounge area on the top floor, robotic arms flying around him and tugging away his poor, beautiful, crushed-beyond-repair Mark IX. His face was a thundercloud as the helmet came off in two broken, charred pieces. He was obviously in a completely filthy mood; the kind in which he drank an ocean of scotch, smashed down walls and blew up half the lab. "Ow. Jesus, ow, ow, stop that, that is the opposite of help – ow! Fuck! Fucking Doom!"
"Are you okay?" Bruce asked, standing and taking a few steps towards the open glass doors to the balcony. "Did anyone get hurt?"
Tony glanced up. "Oh, not so you'd notice," he snapped. "Only another three fucking days of work and approximately eighty million dollars worth of high-tech prosthesis got trashed. Mark IX's a total write-off. I'm sending Latveria a bill."
"But is anyone hurt?" Bruce waited for the low pang of guilt that should have accompanied that question – the question he had asked so many times while wondering how many he had killed this time. But the guilt didn't come. He was a shell.
"Birdbrain got burned a bit, but he'll be fine, didn't even faze him. Widow's got a broken toe or two, not that you'd notice. Rhodey and his adulterated antique got off scott-free. Thor's pissed off that he had to cover War Machine in the air and so he didn't get much of a fight - because he is in actual fact a raving lunatic, a truth that has been covered up by SHIELD and Dr Tiny Foster in a vast conspiracy aimed at trashing all my suits and giving me ulcers. And I think Cap got strafed by one of their brand new fucking lasers. You know, the ones that trashed my incredibly expensive and glorious suit, which is the fucking point here?"
Bruce relaxed a little. Minor or no wounds, mostly. Clint knew his field medicine, Natasha could operate with only her pinky-finger, and Steve healed ridiculously fast. He'd be fine. "Easier to build a new suit than a new person."
"And yet totally unskilled and unqualified people pop out new ones every day," Tony said sourly as he helped the robotic arms tug off the last section of crushed and scorched armour and headed straight for his bar. "I'm having a drink. God, I'm having ten drinks. Fucking Doom."
"Are the others on their way home yet?"
"On-scene cleanup liaising is happening with the Turkish authorities. I came ahead. I only do sexy liaising, and the Turkish authority didn't qualify." Tony splashed scotch from a decanter into a glass, and then swigged half of it in one go. "God damn it."
Bruce sat, adjusting his sling. "Um. Did you at least get your hands on a doombot or two?" he asked, trying to cheer the engineer up. There was nothing Tony liked better than new toys.
Tony scowled into his scotch. "Nope. Auto-destruct at the end of the fight. I don't even get to nick Vickie's latest ideas. Total clusterfuck of an operation."
He splashed yet more scotch into the glass, and then paced around the counter, arm waving wildly as he began to rant. "And Rhodey's frikkin' HammerTech, man. I mean, when is he going to let me replace some of that shit with something that works? I get that he wants to look badass and all, with all his - frankly overcompensating - guns, but Jesus, at least when I shoot something, it stays shot. He might as well have thrown confetti on those things. Thor had to cover his back instead of ripping them apart, and he's the only super-bruiser on the team now. We needed him to concentrate on hammering the fuckers, but he's bailing out honeybear instead!"
Ducking his head, Bruce sighed. "Sorry I wasn't there. Or, well..."
Swallowing scotch once more, Tony snorted, an ugly sound. "Oh sure. Bet you are. You're just so happy you're free of the big green monkey on your back that you're losing sight of what this team is for. What he does. You know, smashing bad guys, saving the world, all that jazz?"
Bruce jerked back. Tony wasn't usually cruel. "Tony. That's not fair."
"Yeah, you know, you're right. It's not fair that we got our asses handed to us because you're too fucked-up to reach out to him, you bastard," Tony snapped, and swigged at his drink again.
A tiny flicker of anger ignited in the pit of Bruce's stomach. He could have cried in relief at the feeling. "You don't know what you're talking about."
"He could have taken out all that noise in two minutes. One, if I dared him," Tony exclaimed, waving his glass around in annoyance. "We need him, Bruce!"
Bruce shook his head. "He's a monster, Tony. You can't know what he'd do. I tried to talk to him..."
"Yeah, Katniss told me," Tony rolled his eyes sardonically. "Mutual declarations of hatred are so touchingly heartwarming. You sure tried to reach out to the guy, didn't you? Do you even know if he's stopped roaring yet?"
Bruce realised he hadn't the faintest idea. He hadn't gone down to the adamantium cage since before the mission. "I..." he said, and stopped.
"I mean, what is he, really? Think about it," Tony said, whirling around to face Bruce. "Is he your brother? Your son? Part of you? And the first thing you do is tell him you hate him and leave him alone for hours on end... has he even eaten? Has he slept?"
"I don't know," Bruce said, feeling the muscles in his jaw clench.
"Fuck, Banner, I've got a heart made of metal and even I think that's cold."
"Tony, you know what he did to my life," Bruce said, the little flicker of anger building, familiar and welcome against the emptiness. "The first thing he did when he saw me was to beat me into a pulp! You think I should be kind? You think I want to be kind to that?"
Tony glared. "Yeah, I get that, Banner, I really do. But when you went down and saw him, did you really look?"
Bruce glared at Tony in return. "Can't you get the message? Back off on this, Tony. Now."
"Or what, you'll hulk out?" Tony grinned.
"I told you before, this is none of your business," Bruce grated, and Tony laughed out loud.
"None of my...! Okay, putting aside the whole you-are-my-science-bro and he-is-my-Avenger-teammate and you're-both-sort-of-my-friends... issues, all of which are new-ish and therefore exciting to me, do you really want to know how much adamantium costs?"
"Right," Bruce said stiffly. "Well, maybe I can cut down on your expenditure a bit. I'll be out of here tomorrow."
Tony ran his hand through his sweaty hair. "Oh for fuck's sake! I'm not saying that, I'm just trying to point out that it is our business! All of ours! Especially yours, but you just keep slipping away from it!"
Bruce gritted his teeth and began to stalk towards the door.
"Fine! Go on, run," Tony growled. "It's what you're good at, right, Banner?"
Bruce turned back towards him a little, eyes cold and hard. "Yes. Very."
Hulk
Hulk is still smashing, but Hulk is bored, bored, bored.
Hulk never knew that Hulk could get bored with smashing.
Hulk's arms feel funny. Heavy. Slow. Hulk's arms have never felt like this before. They do not smash at the grey shiny walls and floor like they did before. Not as strong. Not as strong.
But... Hulk is strongest! What has happened to Hulk's arms?
Hulk roars and smashes as hard as he can. Angry, angry is good. Angry at stupid cage, at stupid Banner...
At stupid Hulk.
"Hey, buddy."
Hulk looks up, a snarl on his lips. His fists clench. He may be slow and heavy, but he can still smash puny little people like Banner. Hulk slams his fists either side of the annoying little gap where the eyes are. Brown eyes.
Hulk knows them.
Metal Man? Hulk thinks.
"Metal Man?" Hulk asks, because Hulk is not very good at keeping thoughts inside Hulk's head.
"Bingo, big guy. Came to see you." Metal Man sounds... slow. And heavy. Like Hulk's arms.
Metal Man also sounds angry. Hulk knows something about being angry.
"So, how's things?"
"Metal Man," Hulk growls. "Let Hulk out!"
Metal Man sighs, and it is even slower and heavier than before. "I'm going to, big guy. I'm going to. I just gotta convince some idiots that it'll be safe to let you out."
Hulk snorts. "Hulk is Hulk. Hulk not meant to be safe."
Metal Man laughs aloud, short and dry. It sounds like desert sands feel.
"Who?"
"Who what?"
"Who needs Hulk... safe?" Hulk says the last word like it is dirty. Stupid puny humans, thinking that safe is most important. Danger is where things grow. Safe is where they rot.
Metal Man blows air between his teeth. "Some people who help with the team," he said. "And the team as well, I guess. And Banner."
Hulk growls. It is a loud, deep, good growl. Hulk hates Banner.
(Hulk does NOT miss Banner. Annoying little voice so scared in his head, always bleating, always sad. Hulk doesn't doesn't doesn't...)
"Hey... whoa, hey now!" Metal Man puts his eyes right up to the little slot, his fingers curled over the shiny metal. "What brought all this on? What the fuck? Hulk, buddy, calm down a bit and tell me what the hell..."
"Hulk hates Banner!" Hulk howls, and brings his arms down to smash against the shiny floor as hard as he can. The noise, like bells and bells and bells, rings out again.
"Whoa," says Metal Man, and his eyes are wide. Hulk can see the white.
Hulk pants, and then his head slumps. Metal Man is a friend. "Banner always tries to trap Hulk," Hulk says through teeth that grit and grind. "Banner is still trapping Hulk!"
Metal Man begins, "Big Guy, it's not like that – okay, well, maybe it is like that – but we can get around that if you prove..."
Hulk interrupts. "No! Hulk always trapped, Hulk always prisoner! Banner always locks Hulk away!" Hulk brings his fists down onto the shiny once more. His arms are heavy and slow, so slow.
"Hulk!" Stop! Buddy, please, please stop, and listen, hey? Please?" says Metal Man, and he sounds both sad and angry. Hulk does not know the name for how he sounds. Hulk stops, panting.
"We gotta convince everyone that you won't hurt them if I let you out, yeah?" says Metal Man. Hulk can still see his hands over the lip of the little slot, his brown eyes sad and angry.
"Hulk want to be free! Hulk want to be left alone!"
"Yeah, I know, big guy," Metal Man says. "I know."
Hulk slumps onto the ground. So, so heavy. "Metal Man?" he says. Even Hulk's voice is slow and heavy.
"Tony. Friends get to call me Tony."
Hulk looks up. Metal Man's eyes are soft.
"Is Hulk friend of Metal Man? Can Hulk call... Tony?"
Hulk can see the smile, all white shiny teeth. Hulk used to think it was a threat, but Hulk knows better now. "Sure thing. You're my friend. You're both my friends."
Hulk frowns. "Both."
"You and Bruce."
Hulk growls again, but Metal Man is brave. "Ah-ah. Nope. I know you hate each other, but you're both my friends and you have to deal with that. No way around it."
Hulk shifts impatiently, annoyed. Hulk doesn't much like it, but if Metal Man is Hulk's friend... "Tony."
A smile again. "That's it!"
Hulk lets his fingers open for the first time in days, unclenches them from their fist. "Tony. Hulk's arms... are slow. Heavy. Why?"
Tony frowns, and Hulk doesn't like that expression. He huffs, while Tony thinks. "Welllllll..." says Tony, "Maybe you're tired?"
"Hulk not get tired!"
"Everyone gets tired, big guy. Have you slept?" Tony cocks his head.
Hulk copies him, tipping his great head. "What is slept?"
Tony seems to get even angrier at that. "I'm gonna fucking kill you, Banner," he mutters.
Hulk brightens. "Good! Hulk help!"
"No!" Tony says, alarmed. Hulk hates that smell, the stink of fear. It follows him everywhere, fills his nostrils every time he opens his eyes. "I wasn't serious, Hulk. I'm mad at Banner, but I'm not going to kill him."
Hulk slumps, disappointed.
Tony takes a deep breath, and then lets it out slowly. "Sleep is like... well, it's like what happens when you go back inside and Bruce takes over. You rest. You recharge."
Hulk tips his head. "Hulk not rest ever. Hulk always here."
"And I thought I had insomnia," Tony says, and Hulk can see his head move side to side. "Jesus."
Hulk frowns, shifts. "Hulk needs sleep?"
Tony nods his head firmly. "And food."
"Food!" Hulk has been smashing so long, Hulk forgot all about food!
"Bet you're hungry," Tony says.
"Hulk VERY hungry!"
"See, everyone, even Hulks, need food," Tony says, and he is pressing things on a little thing that glows in his hand. "How does pizza sound?"
Hulk wrinkles his nose, bares his teeth. He's not sure what that means.
"Well, we'll find out. JARVIS, order fifteen... no, make that twenty pizzas. Large. Whatever toppings, surprise us, mix it up." Tony smiles grimly and puts the glowy thing away. "And package up our conversation when we're done here and send it to Banner, would you? He needs to see what he's doing to our green pal here."
Hulk growls low, warningly, drowning out the ghost-voice's answer. Hulk hates Banner.
"Hey, hey now!" Tony lifts his hands, empty again, fingers spread. "It's okay, big guy! He's not coming down here right now. But you're going to have to learn to get that reaction under control, or they'll never let you out."
"Smash them!"
"See, that's the kind of reaction I'm talking about," Tony sighs.
"Hulk want OUT!"
"Yeah, we've all gathered that," Tony says, and pinches his nose. "Look, Hulk. I know it doesn't make much sense to you... but people get scared. What does Hulk do when he gets scared?"
"Smash!"
Tony winces. "Apart from smash?"
A memory, distant and faded, struggles into Hulk's tired mind. A cave, and lightning, and a pale face in the darkness. "H... hide," Hulk says slowly. "Hulk run. Hulk hide, to be left alone."
"That's right," Tony said. "And people get scared of you. Because of the smashing. Some people run and hide, sure, like you and Brucey. But not everyone runs and hides. So those people trap you where you can't touch them. Where you can't hurt them."
Tony's voice is flat, pained.
It takes a moment to sink in, and then Hulk slams his fists against the floor. "Not fair!"
"Shit, you really are a three-year-old, aren't you," Tony murmurs. "I know. The world isn't very fair, buddy, but we're working on fixing that."
Hulk stops, and thinks. Betty wasn't scared. Tony isn't scared. Bruce...
"Banner scared," Hulk rumbles, and meets Tony's eyes. "Banner always scared."
"Yep," Tony says, and folds his arms. His face is annoyed. "He's a fucking coward, is what he is."
Hulk feels strange then, like he wants to snarl at Tony. But Tony is Hulk's friend! And Banner... no. Hulk does not defend Banner any more.
"Well, to be fair to the guy," Tony says, sighing, his hand running through his hair, "you did smash him pretty good when you two did your whole amoeba-trick."
Hulk ignores the shiny words, and zeroes in on the important one. "Hulk smashed Banner," he says, and thinks, and thinks, and thinks. It is hard to think without Banner in his head. Empty.
"Yeah," Tony says.
"Banner... scared of Hulk."
"Nail on the head, big guy."
"Hulk... always smash Banner," Hulk says slowly, and then sits back on his haunches again, his hands heavy and tired in his lap. "Hulk... smash everything that was Banner's."
Tony is silent. Hulk takes that as agreement. He thinks, and thinks, and thinks. About running, and about traps. About being scared.
"Banner told truth," Hulk says finally, and it is a heavy, strange feeling. His hands are dead weights, his legs aching. His shoulders slump. He is so empty.
"Hulk," Tony says, and then stops. Like he can't think of the thing to say to Hulk.
"Hulk runs too," Hulk says, and rumbles unhappily. "Hulk and Banner run away. Banner scared, runs away. Hides. Banner hides Hulk away."
This is why. This is why Banner keeps Hulk locked inside his head, inside the stupid metal room. This is why Banner runs. Hulk understands. Because Hulk runs too. Hulk hides too. Hulk knows about scared.
"Hulk trapped because Hulk smash," Hulk says eventually.
Why does Banner not think properly? He thinks in shiny words, shiny and fast like birds, and Hulk does not understand. Tony makes Hulk understand. Banner thinks too fast!
(Hulk does NOT miss Banner.)
Tony is silent again. Then he clears his throat.
"Not always," Tony says, and smiles, teeth white in the darkness. "You caught me. You saved me."
True. Hulk saved Metal Man. Caught him falling from the dark hole in the sky.
"If you don't smash, if you can prove that you won't... we can get you out of there."
Hulk's head jerks up. "Hulk want out!"
"We gotta make sure you don't get those other people scared, Hulk," Tony says, very serious. His eyes are dark and looking right into Hulk's. "They'll want to trap you all over again. You have to show people that you can do it."
"Not smash."
"Right."
"Hulk not scare."
"Now you got it."
Hulk scowls. He doesn't like this. "But Hulk always angry."
"And you say you're not the same person," Tony says, rolling his eyes. "Look, fine, be angry. Just don't smash, or scare. Yeah?"
Hulk shifts again, and huffs through his nose.
"Tell you what, if you get really steamed, tell me," Tony says. "I can take you to a place where you can smash and not scare people."
"But Hulk always hunted! People always try hurt Hulk!"
"No," Tony says, and his voice is flat and dark again. "Not this time. I got your back, buddy. Anyone tries to hurt you has to get through me."
Hulk looks dubiously down at him. "Tony not very big."
"Man, are you good for the ego," Tony says, grinning. "Remember, the suit? Metal Man? Zapping the bug-men? Oh, I got it where it counts, baby."
"Hulk not baby!"
"No, it's a... never mind."
Hulk clenches his fists. "Hulk show people that Hulk can NOT smash. How?"
"Unless it's a bad guy," Tony corrects, and then smiles at Hulk's look of irritation and confusion. "Star Man? Y'know, Cap? He'll tell us."
Hulk grunts. Star Man is bossy. "Bad men. But they? Others?"
"Just be calm when people come to talk to you, yeah? I know that's not really in your whole job description as a giant green rage monster, but remember that everyone is a lot smaller and a lot squishier and a lot more scared of you than they want to let on. I'll ask some people to come visit you, and if you can talk to them like you're talking to me, they'll agree to let you out," says Tony, and then adds in a mutter, "if they don't want their eyepatch set on fire."
Hulk thinks and thinks. It is so hard to think without Banner piping in the back if his mind. But Hulk thinks. "Hulk try."
"That's all I ask, pal." Tony looks down at the little glowy thing again. "Now, I'll be back with your pizza soon, but first I gotta see some people. There's a certain fluffy scientist who needs..."
Bruce
Bruce sighed and dropped his bag on his bed. "A what?"
"An intervention," said Clint cheerfully. "Go team."
Bruce narrowed his eyes. "Is that popcorn?"
Clint shrugged and ate another piece.
"You are not leaving until this is sorted," said Steve sternly.
"You are not leaving, period," said Natasha, and crossed her arms. Bruce weighed the likelihood of getting past her, and then considered climbing Everest instead.
"And this necessitated you all barging into my bedroom and delivering ultimatums?" he said bitingly, and sat down. His body twinged and ached, and oh, he never thought he'd miss the quick healing that the gamma had given him.
"Well, yeah," Clint said. "Haven't you figured out the whole 'intervention' thing yet?"
Bruce just looked at him.
Clint huffed. "Well. We clearly need to revise your televisual habits."
"Bruce, you are not yourself," Thor said, his voice deep and concerned. "We have all perceived this. You no longer have the rage that brings with it your green warrior-self, but neither do you react with joy nor fear nor any other true feeling. You are drifting, my friend."
Bruce scowled at the god. "Well, I've recently been through a bit of a life change..."
"Bruce," Tony said from behind Clint, his eyes like a thundercloud. "Stop it. Stop talking bullshit. There's something you need to see."
Bruce's hands clenched, and he consciously smoothed them back out, rubbing his good one against his thigh. "Yeah, I'm sort of wary of anything you've got to say at this point, Stark," he snarled.
"Good," Natasha said clinically. "That was a true emotion. Not very intense, but there."
Bruce's eyes flickered to her, and then snapped back to Tony, glowering. "You're getting Natasha to parse my reactions?"
"Shit, you think I needed to ask?" Tony said. "JARVIS, play it."
The television (huge and glossy and ludicrous) flickered into life. Bruce rolled his eyes as the adamantium cage snapped onto the screen. "Oh, please, this again? Did you teach him a trick?"
"In a manner of speaking," said Tony grimly.
Bruce snorted and turned to the screen. "There is nothing, nothing he could say that will convince me."
Tony laughed. "Oh, Banner. They told me you were smart."
The beast's voice, even though it was dulled by the smaller speakers, still chilled Bruce right to the bone. He tried to cling to the embers of anger and scepticism as the conversation played out, but he could feel them sliding away. Not because of the Hulk's words, no. Because Bruce was now empty, a husk.
And then the Hulk said Banner told truth.
"He understands," Bruce said, and his own voice was unfocused and distant.
"Yeah," Tony said, and sat down beside him. "He's full of pizza right now, and fast asleep. But we're going to try. He's going to try. The giant with the three-year-old mentality can get this, Bruce. How come you can't?"
"Give me some of that," Bruce said absently to Clint, and the popcorn tub was held out. He shovelled a handful into his mouth and chewed. At least that way he didn't have to talk.
"Okay, I acted badly. I'm sorry, all right? I was in a shitty mood, Doom trashed my suit, and then you were there with that blank face you've got now and the dull..." Tony waved his hands over his eyes. "It's like no-one's home."
Bruce's mouth was abruptly too dry to swallow the popcorn properly.
"It's not right," Tony said, frustration leaking out of him. "You can't even think properly. You used to run rings around me in half the stuff we do, and suddenly I'm ahead of you in synthesizing applications for the new polymer. Hell, I mapped the radiation signature of that Kree shit - that's your favourite fucking field! We got slammed by Doom and you couldn't even muster the energy to grab the first-aid kit like you normally do. Whatever's going on in there isn't Bruce Banner. I don't know what it is, but it isn't you."
Bruce sat very still, and then he nodded his head. "I know."
"Fellas," Steve said, and gave them his best fond-but-long-suffering-leader look. "Okay. We got a situation."
"This is why they pay him the big bucks," Clint said.
"Is this funny to you?" Bruce demanded. Clint just smirked a bit.
"Doc, when you've been in some of the situations I have, this is better than Frasier."
"How old are you?" asked Tony. "At least say Arrested Development, come on."
"Oh for the love of Pete," Steve muttered. "Look. Fighting between us isn't helping. Doctor Banner, we don't want you to leave."
"Really," said Bruce.
"Yes, so stop with the flouncing away," Tony said. "It's like living with an angry genius sorority princess."
Bruce ignored that. "What about him?" he asked, nodding to where Hulk crouched on the screen, huge and tired.
"We don't want Hulk to leave either," Steve said. "As far as we're concerned, you're both Avengers. You're not going, and neither is he."
Bruce glanced at Tony, and then shrugged. "He wants to kill me."
"He doesn't," Tony corrected. "He really doesn't. He's angry, yeah, cos' that's sort of his thing, but he's also confused and hurt. You gotta start looking at this from his perspective. C'mon Banner, get that big brain into gear already..."
"Stark, stop pushing so hard," Steve said, and regretted it immediately when Tony smirked knowingly. "I mean, stop forcing the issue. Give Doctor Banner some space. This has to be hard for him." And then he realised what he'd just said and groaned.
Tony looked like it was Christmas, New Years and his birthday all at once. His face was gleeful as he opened his mouth.
"Don't," Natasha said. Tony deflated.
"Damn, I wanted to see him expire of an innuendo overdose," Clint said.
Steve rubbed at his eyes. "Give me strength," he mumbled.
"Someone did," Thor pointed out. "Was it not your Midgard science?"
"This is going nowhere," Bruce said. It was funny, he knew. But he didn't feel it. He should be laughing. He usually did. He took some more popcorn and tried not to think.
"I meant this can't be easy for Doctor Banner," Steve grated. "Stark, be serious, and stop it."
Tony waved a hand. "Yeah, sure, when you remove the stick up your ass, we'll talk about that."
"Bruce," Natasha said.
Bruce looked up warily, his mouth full.
"I have been where you are now, feeling nothing," she said, and her eyes were cold. "It is not a good place to remain. You need him, no matter what you say. You can't stay like this."
He swallowed. "But I'm free," he said plaintively.
She regarded him for a moment, and then shook her head. "No you're not. You're just building a cage you can't see."
Thor's hand landed on Bruce's good shoulder. "Bruce, you need to reach to your warrior-self," he said.
He shrugged it off. "I tried. You all saw how well that went."
"Not the best first step, no," Clint said.
"First meetings aren't everything, Doc," said Natasha. "You and I both know that."
Bruce glanced up at her, and then looked down at his hands. They were twisting around each other as they normally did when he was under stress, patting the back of the other; soft, self-soothing touches learned from a nervous childhood. But he didn't really feel stressed. He didn't know what he was feeling. There was something under the numbness, but he couldn't reach for it. He tried again.
"Look, you just watched what we did, didn't you?" Tony said, exasperated. "You're his only frame of reference – for everything, ever! He didn't even know about sleeping, for fuck's sake..."
"Tony," Steve said warningly. Tony blinked at the use of his first name, and then waved a hand in defeat.
"Fine," he said. "Just, Bruce, try again. Hulk's getting on this page a lot faster than you are."
"Hulk doesn't have to deal with his own messes," Bruce snapped.
"Not this time," Tony retorted. "This time, he's facing it. Not graciously, but he is. It's your turn. You need to face what you do to him."
"What?" Bruce exploded.
Tony held up his hands. "You had – have – reasons, we all know that! He hurts things, people. He's dangerous. We KNOW, Bruce! But see - he didn't understand. He's getting it now, but he didn't. You do."
"He's like a big angry kid," said Clint.
"Which would make you the adult in this situation," said Natasha, and wow, now Bruce felt like a bully.
But the victim in these circumstances was the HULK, for god's sake! This was ludicrous! Couldn't they all see this?
"He kills people," Bruce said.
"So do I," said Natasha calmly.
"Guilty," Clint said, rather breezily, but there was a lingering echo of guilt in his blue-grey eyes.
"I've probably killed more people than any of you," Steve said, and his back was stiff. "It was a war, not a tea party."
"Merchant of Death," Tony said, and gave a mocking little bow.
Thor smiled. "Let us simply say that the dökkálfar do not bless my name, and your people never remembered me to be a kindly god."
Bruce threw up his hands. "So that makes it better, what he does?"
"No, of course n-" Steve started.
"You mean protect himself?" Tony challenged. "Run? Hide?"
"I was there, Bruce," Natasha said, her voice still calmly composed. "At Culver. Fury had me undercover. I saw what happened. He came out after they trapped you, and then they threw weapon after weapon at him. He only attacked the weapons and soldiers, not the buildings or the bystanders. He still protected Doctor Ross."
"I..." Bruce said helplessly. "But... all I wanted...I'm... he's... I'm a physicist."
"An angry one," supplied Clint. Natasha elbowed him.
"Okay, so I'm not a picture of emotional health right now," Bruce said, and then lifted his sling. "Or of physical... but he's been the source of everything. He ruined everything."
There was a short silence, and then Natasha said, "Bruce. We've all read each other's files and dossiers. We all know it didn't start with him."
"Hulk always there," Tony quoted. "Hulk always exists."
"I don't want it," Bruce said, and his shoulders bunched. "I never wanted it. I was making a bomb..."
"Congratulations, it's a boy," Clint said dryly.
"If you don't hate each other so much, there might be some peace in all this," Steve suggested as gently as he could.
"Mayhap we can build a bridge between you," Thor said.
"It's all about bridges with you, isn't it," Clint said to him.
Bruce glanced at his bag, and then at his sling. Tony nudged his knee with his own. "Come on, Banner. The big guy thinks you're a fraidy-cat. Prove him wrong."
"You think I'm a coward," Bruce returned, and Tony winced.
"Only because you were running away from him – from yourself," he corrected.
"He isn't me," Bruce said wearily.
"He is," Natasha said, and gave him a half-smile. "You're him. He's another you. And you're both incomplete this way. You're both fading."
Bruce scowled. "You're wrong."
Her smile grew a little broader.
"Give him time," said Thor, and he gave Bruce a sad, tight smile. "It is the thing any hurt, angry child needs - time and patience."
"He'll prove to you that he's about more than anger," said Steve, "and you'll prove to him that you're about more than fear."
More than fear. Bruce sighed. "I'm not so sure about that."
"Oh god, shut him up, please," Tony groaned.
"Seriously? Mr IQ-Off-The-Charts is saying this?" Clint said incredulously.
"He does not know what he is saying," said Thor, giving the rest of them a pleading sort of look. "That is all."
"Worse than I thought," Natasha muttered.
"We are not going into your self-esteem issues right now," said Steve in a very controlled tone. "But what I will say is that there are six heroes in this room, and not one of them is a coward."
Tony's head jerked up, and then he grinned. "Nice, Cap. Thanks for the compliment."
"You all don't get it," Bruce began, but Tony cut him off.
"Bruce. Do you trust us?"
He paused, turning it over. Underneath the numbness, a certain panic was settling in.
"I..."
"I'm going to ignore that frankly hurtful pause and pretend the answer is a resounding yes," Clint announced, and then tossed some popcorn into his mouth. Naturally, his aim was immaculate.
"This will help you," Natasha told him. "It will not be easy, but it will help. But you can't pretend. You can't hide from this. Believe me, I know."
"What will help?" Bruce looked up at their faces. All of them looked uncomfortable, but determined.
"You've got to face up to him," said Steve.
"He is not so bad," Thor shrugged. "He is a challenging opponent."
"Not so bad? What? What are you all talking about?" Bruce said, and treasured the flicker of exasperation.
Tony grinned. "You and me, Bruceykins? We're going to train the Hulk."
AN: Referenced in here is Natasha's little expedition to Culver University in the comic tie-in, "Fury's Big Week".
Please, tell me what you think? Liked it, hated it, ideas, critiques, death threats for my long absence? (Aaaaaactually, skip that last.)
