A/N: I want to thank both Guest and An Avenger Fan for their comments. I really appreciate your support and remarks. Your reviews mean so much to me! Thank you. :)


Chapter 9

Mom had gone out early that morning to see Aunt Elaine, acting almost as if it were an emergency. She never smiled, never sung to him softly, and not once read him a story; not since that Christmas incident. Even while he was in the hospital for a week healing from the injuries, on oxygen, and needing stitches; her words were far from comforting. But even though that was at least two months ago, and things had changed; not for the better.

Bruce shook as he huddled in a fetal position on top of his bed. His eyes shut tight, praying Daddy would be merciful this evening. His mouth was dry from his heavy breathing and lack of proper nutrition. His body ached recounting a kick in his upper and lower torso from the previous night. At least his bottom lip had finally stopped bleeding.

Daddy was gone too, at work all day. But that small hand on the clock, was clicking towards the number 6 quicker then ever. Bruce shut his eyes, hoping that when he opened them, he'd have an extra hour of solitude and peace.

Mommy promised that when he went to school next year, things would be better. He would make friends, learn more, and be able to 'refocus' his attention from a troublesome life at home. Was she right? What could be so refocusing about this thing called 'school'?

He heard that dreadful machine pull up the driveway, knowing that wasn't Mom.

His coming! Bruce covered his face, trembling even more. ..wait...the foot steps came to a halt, but Brian's voice was clearly audible, slurring in his speech; "Meachum! Where's the kid?"

Robert burried his face in his forearms, smart enough to have removed his glasses already. They were his fourth pair this month...and Mommy couldn't afford another. Anything Bruce had, came out of her own pocket. She was struggling as it was, having to sell a few belongings to get him his newest pair. Brian would give her a small monthly 'allowance' that she had stashed away for emergencies...that too was dwindling.

Brian Banner entered, gripping a firm hold on his son's small shoulders throwing him from his bed. He barley scrambled to his hands and knees before Daddy slapped the back of his head with an intense blow, "Where's your mother?! What did you do to her you little freak?!"

The child's tears slip from his eyes, as he grips at his own head screaming in for it all to stop. Brain wasted no time before kneeing his small gut, "Stop crying you abnormal demon! Where's Rebecca!"

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Rebecca shuts her car off, dashing to the door upon realizing Brian beat her home. She mutters under her breath pulling at the door before turning the key, "Oh no, please no!" Her hands tremble lightly, brushing her hair over her shoulder and out of her way.

Her heart pounds, noticing a shattered and empty beer bottle outside her front door. Her body thrusts forward pushing the door open, "Nurse Meachum! Brian!"

Her feet hurry up the stairs, hearing her baby's weak shrills. "Bruce!" Her eyes widen as she stands in his doorway. Her small son doubled over clutching his gut, continually coughing up small amounts of blood onto the ground as he shook uncontrollably. Brian yelled clenching a fist, "It's in your blood! You're a mutant! There's no reason why your alive!"

She runs forward throwing herself in front of Bruce, taking his father's punch, "Brian stop it!"

He turns away punching the wall after he realizes, he's hurt his wife. His eyes shut before running for the door. His screaming echoes throughout the entire house as he breaks a glass in the hallway. Doors slam, things fall, shattering into a million pieces.

Rebecca can hear the front door slam shut and the car engine begin to roar. She's lost him...no matter how hard she's tried.

She shuts her eyes, sitting on her heels with Bruce huddled over her lap. Her hands gently stroking his sore back, tears slowly slipping from her own eyes, "Baby! Look at me, your safe." She frantically yells for the nurse seeing his bruises and fresh cuts, "Meachum! Please come quick!"

She pulls back in her embrace trying to look him in the eye brushing his cheek. He trembles curled up in a tight position, unable to open his eyes. She holds his head gently against her heart speaking soft and consolingly, "It's okay Bruce. I've got you, it's alright. No one can hurt you."

Her child breathes heavy, struggling to whisper, "Daddy-hit you- Mom-."

She brushes through his hair, "Shh, no- It's okay baby. We'll be alright. Hold onto me." She looks upwards holding him closer then before, tears streaming down her cheek, "Meachum! Please!"

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

One Month Later-

Bruce twirled his tongue over the cut in his mouth, the taste of blood still clear as day. Rebecca handed him a second ice pack, holding it just above his eye, her right hand occupied on the telephone with Aunt Elaine. No matter what, their personal sufferings were always a secret. No one knew, and Rebecca had made sure it stayed that way, trying to appear as 'normal' as possible...

"I didn't even know you were planning on moving.-Yes- And I'm glad for Morris.- Hold on Elaine-(No Bruce, don't pull like that. Thank you Meachum)- I'm sorry Elaine, what was that?-Yes, of course you have to do what you feel is right. We'll miss you though. Is it a nice home?-Hold on-(Hold this baby.)-I'm sorry Elaine, yes I hear you. Of course, maybe we can talk later-(No Honey! Don't bite your lip!) Yes We'll talk. -Good-bye."

She hangs up the phone, glancing upwards at the clock, '5:30'. She sighs heavily throwing her hands on the top of her head.

Meachum flips a page in the newspaper at the opposite end of the table, "Another arrest in Blooms County. This guy just killed his wife and two daughters."

She brushes her fingers through her hair before taking the ice pack from her son, "Please, don't talk about that Meachum. I don't want Bruce to hear the news."

Her finger gently brushes over his eyebrow, black and blue. Susan and her husband Mike would be coming over any minute, and frankly, she was not in the mood for any sort of company. The nurse mumbled from behind the huge printed page, "The kettles whistling Mrs. Banner."

Rebecca rushes to the side flipping off the switches on the oven. She threw her head back, unable to bite her tongue, "Nurse Meachum, if it's too much for you to lend a hand in the kitchen, I don't believe I owe you as much?"

The frustrated nurse lowers her paper, "It's Friday Mrs. Banner. I am off on Fridays."

"If your off on Fridays, why are you lingering in the house? And not out with your friends?"

She leans her arms on the table, "Mrs. Banner! I'm going out this evening. If I have your permission of course."

Rebecca waves her hand in the air as if to say 'whatever'. She turns her back towards the oven looking at her son. She can tell he's biting at his cheek again, his small frame huddled in a chair, his knees brought into his chest. She felt bad giving him clothes a size to big, unable to see anything but his small fingers and tiny toes under the fabric. He rubbed his feet over one another, outwardly expressing his nervousness and discontent. She lowers her eyebrows being the first time she's realized this little habit of his, "What do you want sweat-heart?"

She watches him shake his head 'no', not wanting to talk. She glances at the nurse, "Meachum, can you go inside for a minute?"

The nurse jumps up feeling dismissed and heads for her room talking to herself.

Rebecca kneels down to look him in the eye, "What's wrong baby?" She wants to cuddle him, hold him in her arms, and reassure him of her love. She hesitates, knowing he's aching, and doesn't want to hurt him.

Bruce's eyes fill looking at his mother. Her upper cheek is flushed bright red, probably from when Daddy hit her. 'Why doesn't she smile and tell me everything will be alright?'

She gently kisses his head, before abruptly pulling away at the sound of the front door opening. Exposing Brian Banner, angry as always. Rebecca and her son jump, trembling as Daddy heads for the kitchen, "Rebecca, I want a beer."

She stays close by her son, "Brian, you know-you shouldn't"

"Rebecca!" He slams his fist into the table. She jumps, holding her palm over her heart startled by his action. She whispers repeated, 'Alright, alright.'

Bruce lowers his head over his forearms and knees, daring not to even look up at his father. Brian shouts, "Robert! Go inside!"

He shakes as he slowly stands up. To place his feet on the floor is more work then his body was ready for. He slowly starts moving towards the living room. Brian reaches out his hand hitting him as he passes. Rebecca runs forward, "Don't hit my baby!"

Bruce falls onto his knees, more emotionally hurt then anything else. His mother helps him to his feet as Brian yells, "When will you stop defending the little creature!"

She narrows her focus, a lump in her throat, "When you stop hurting him!"

"Get out of my way Rebecca!" He stands up, his forehead red from his screaming. Rebecca moves with her child in her grasp, "Brian please..."

"Rebecca I swear!" He follows her as she backs up keeping Bruce behind her.

She looks downward before pushing her son in the closet and pressing her back against the closed door, "Brian, your drunk! Please! Just stop it!" Her husband thrusts forward knocking her to the floor. She yells for it to stop,

Bruce falls into the dark space unable to control his tears. His weak pushing against the door goes unnoticed as he hears his mother scream. From the small crack in the door, he can see his father hitting her. His heart beat quickens, no more able to free himself, then prevent her attack.