Hi there.

11)I am so sorry about not updating in forever, I promised my self I'd be good and I really wasn't. I'm a terrible person.

22)Thank you so so much for the reviews, they really do make my day. Please request a character if you want one about them.

33)This is definitely long, and I apologise if it isn't up to standard. Because I have taken so long, I'm going to post both Bruce and Natasha today as a sort of apology.

4)As always, I don't own any of these characters. If I did though, I DEFINITELY WOULDN'T SET CLINT AND NATASHA AGAINST EACH OTHER WHEN THEY'VE BOTH BEEN BEST FRIENDS SINCE FORVEVER AND ARE PRETTY MUCH THE ONLY PERSON IN EACH OTHER'S LIVES WHO UNDERSTANDS WHAT THEY'VE BEEN THROUGH. Ahem, onto the show.

Sam felt rather than saw the building fall. One minute he was standing, ready to transport an exhausted Bruce back to the lab, and then the next the ground shook as the ceiling started to crumble. He dived down, barely avoiding the massive steel beam from taking his head off. It landed suspended above him by a pile of rubber, and just as Sam was about to thank his lucky stars it fell. His leg was in the way.

A scream of pain ripped itself from his throat as he heard his leg crunch under the immense weight. White, hot agony coursed through his body when he felt the bones in his leg shatter, causing his eyes to roll up into his body and guttural moan to escape his mouth. Every breath of air sent new pain through him.

When he had caught a bullet for Steve and had it taken out of his soldier, he had thought that that was pain. When Steve had sown up a knife wound in the middle of a battle, Sam had thought he knew pain. He had no idea.

Black spots danced across his blurry vision, but he knew he couldn't go unconscious, no matter how much his screaming nerve endings wanted him to. If he went unconscious nobody would find him, and he would bleed out. But he wasn't on his own.

He suddenly remembered Bruce, and how he was there to fly the shaking scientist, who had just calmed down after the Hulk had taken out about fifty hydra agents. The battle was nearly over, and they couldn't risk him turning into the other guy so near helpless civilians.

The scientist leaned over him, his eyes flashing a worrying shade of green when he saw the injuries.
"Sam?" Bruce rocked back on his heels. Sam Wilson was one of the few people he felt totally at home with, and the reliable guy's apartment offered a welcome rest for when Tony got a bit intense. Sam wasn't afraid of him, but he had seen what he could do and didn't put himself at risk. He understood that Bruce's worst nightmare was hurting one of his friends when he lost control, and didn't totally forget his own worth and try to face him and talk him down like Steve kept trying to do. It had earned the super soldier a few broken ribs and very nearly a lot more than that, and Banner couldn't bring himself to look at the captain for weeks.

Sam's leg was totally crushed, and he looked to be losing quite a bit of blood. As far as he knew the other avengers were quite far away. He felt the other guy trying to claw his way out. Sam was losing colour, and it was suddenly clear that if he didn't do something now his friend was going to die. It wasn't fair that a good man should die alone in a building because the man who could save him was too scared to help. Anger coursed through his veins, his skin tightening and becoming green.

"Bruce?" Sam tried to relax his breathing, biting down the scream of pain. "Banner, stay with me. Come on man, don't turn into the other guy now."

The scientist gasped as his skin contracted again, as he tried to calm down the anger inside of him. "The… other guy… can help…"

"Yeah, but right now I want the guy who's a doctor." Sam's voice shook, his skin losing all colours. Adrenaline must be coursing though him a thousand miles an hour, because here was no other reason he wasn't unconscious right now. "Listen. There are… civilians out there… wait till they're… gone." He was slowing down, but he had a point.

"Okay, okay. Okay." He wasn't sure whether he was talking to himself or Sam, but it slowed down his heartbeat a bit. "Okay, stay awake Sam. I'm going to call in your injuries. I should have done that straight away. God I'm so stupid."

He took Falcon's radio – his had disappeared somewhere when the other guy appeared – while sending a worried look at him. His eyes were closing, and his life was slipping away. "There's an avenger down. Taken out by a falling building, a steel beam collapsed on him and totally shattered Sam's leg. Come as quick as you can and bring manpower. I can find a pulse but he won't survive like this much longer." He heard Captain America's voice down the radio, desperation starting to shine through.

"Just keep him as stable as you can. Don't hulk out Bruce, please. He needs your medical. Please." The next words were murmured, but the sorrow in them sent a chill down his spine. "I can't lose another friend. I just can't."

Taking in deep breaths and trying not to look at the glazed look in his friend's eyes, Bruce tried his best to stop the bleeding. The blood was making an alarming large puddle. Bruce's breath caught in his throat. His friend was going to die. Suddenly Sam's hand clenched on his shoulder. "Not… green."

He let the hand on his shoulder ground him, just like Natasha's shock of red hair and steady voice did when the other guy needed to disappear. He felt for a pulse, his stomach sinking when all he could find was a faint beat. It wasn't going to carry on for much longer. Falcon was going to die.

He scrabbled around in the huge pockets of his trousers (he and Stark had made them extra stretchy, even though it meant they had to make a whole new material), looking for the box he hoped was still in there. His fingers closed over cool metal. Bingo.

Inside the box was tiny vile of luminous purple liquid. It had taken weeks of constant experimenting and as many of Pietro's blood samples as he had cared to offer, but Bruce had finally found the right formula. After the coma Pietro had put himself in while is body healed the bullet wounds, Banner had been determined to replicate it. His original intention was to stab it into his own neck the next time he hulked out, putting himself in a coma before the other guy could hurt anyone.

Blinking back tears, he poured a few drops of the liquid down the other man's throat. Sam suddenly started to thrash with renewed strength, guttural moans ripped out of his throat.

"You need to relax. I'm looking after you, I swear. This is going to save you. Please just stop thrashing."

Sam slowed down, before going totally limp. "I trust you." Bruce poured he rest of the liquid down his throat, watching as he fell unconscious within a few seconds.

Rocking back on his heels, Bruce prayed for the first time. He prayed for the life of Sam Wilson, the hero who was stupid enough to trust him.

Thor lifted the piece of metal from Sam's foot, allowing Shield's medical team to get to him. Bruce could have sworn he saw tears in Clint's eyes, and all the jokes and sarcasm had deserted Tony. Natasha rested a hand on his shoulder, but the cool mask was already starting to slip away when he glanced at her. Cap was beside Sam the whole time, even in the helicarrier when he was being transported back to base.

In the month that Falcon stayed in the coma, Bruce visited every day. Tony could be found there every so often, taking measurements for some new wings he was making for Sam. Clint sat in the chair beside the sleeping form and tightened his bow, setting his arrows out on the mattress and cleaning them meticulously. Natasha often curled up in the armchair with a book, and the twins would go there every couple of days. Wanda always said the same thing. No change when she went inside his head. Cap was the worst affected by far. He would sit for hours just talking, about how things used to be, about the weather and missions and baseball and anything that was in his mind. Seeing someone so strong and self assured break down scared him more than he was willing to admit.

The day Sam woke up was one of the best days of Bruce's life. But he couldn't force himself to go in. He didn't want to face the disappointment, the anger. Bruce could have done more, should have done more. Then, one day he forced himself to go into the hospital room. He wasn't sure why. It could have been because he missed Sam's presence, or because he wanted to feel the pain of his failure all over again. He deserved to feel that pain.

Sam raised an eyebrow at him when he perched on the armchair next to the bed.

"Took you long enough."

"I… didn't think you'd want to see me."

"Why not?"

"Because it's my fault!" The words tumbled out of his mouth before he could stop them. "You've been in a coma for a month because of me."

"I'm alive because of you. I've got two younger sisters and five little nieces and nephews, and I get to see them again because of you. This isn't your fault Banner. And I wont let your beat yourself up over it for the rest of your life." They sat and talked for another hour or so, until a nurse came in and said that the patient really needed to rest. Sam sighed, but didn't refuse, which showed how tired he really was. As Bruce went to leave, he heard him say something.

"I was right to trust you, Banner. And I still do."