Natasha wakes before Bruce- partially because he's been up all night tossing and turning.
The shack is small enough to hear him from the living room sofa he's insisted upon occupying. She's told the other Avengers to keep their distance for the time being so as not to crowd Bruce after such a traumatic event. Tony and Steve have work to do in the way of keeping the government away from their friend anyways.
Romanoff is working in the kitchen, dicing up some fruit for herself when she hears him groan and toss a bit in his sleep. The sun hasn't come up yet and she's preparing for a run. Only now does she realize it might be a bad idea to leave him, even if it's only for a few minutes.
Her eyes flick up, abandoning the strawberry previously in her mouth and steps closer watch over him. Bruce tosses with a flinch, hurling himself from the couch with a thud and a scream. He's mumbling incoherently and she can see a bit of green on the back of his neck. "Stop," "that hurts", and "so much Blood," seem to be the only clear phrases he has on repeat.
Natasha circles around to meet him, waiting for him to wake up with soft reassurance;
"You're okay."
"Mm fine, I'm fine, I'm fine-! I'm fine! Natasha! Don't touch me."
"I won't," Natasha listens as his volume slowly starts to rise, clearly frustrated as he tries to calm himself back down.
"Bad dream?" She finally asks.
He tightens himself into a ball, pulling his knees into his chest. He's yet to change from the scraps of his cave days. And she's not going to push him beyond anything he's ready to do. He shivers down she reaches behind them to secure a blanket over his shoulders;
"I was hoping we could start training this morning, but if you're not up for it-."
"I am, I'm fine, that's fine...sorry,' he stands, removing the blanket she's just secured and stands with a bit of confusion, 'Did I hit you?"
"No...?"
"I hit something and I heard a noise…"
She shrugs "You rolled off the couch, nearly split your skull on the coffee table."
"Oh...oh. Where's the shower?"
"Upstairs."
He turns without a response and heads for the steps, breathing a bit prior to taking the staircase.
Asking if he is 'okay' seems like a dumb thing to do so she decides against it, standing to return to her breakfast she no longer has the stomach for.
. . . . . . . .
He's not in a particularly chatty mood as the sun comes up and they duel a bit out on the open field. He doesn't seem to want to button his shirt if it'll just get torn off anyways. Numb to the world and borderline cold.
Natasha has been talking but he's barely heard a word. She pauses in the hopes of getting a reaction, a bit genuinely excited to share some of these drills she's learned over the years.
She lays a hand over her hip, "That blade of grass must be extremely interesting."
No response.
"Do you garden?"
Bruce quirks his jaw to the right, finally looking up from the ground, "What? Sorry, I wasn't, listening."
She rolls her eyes, toying with her fists in a comfortable sweatshirt, "Why do I feel like we're not going to make a whole lot of progress today-."
"I'm listening," he mumbles, suddenly trying extra hard not to piss her off.
She scoffs, "I don't know who you're trying to lie to."
Bruce reaches to cross his arms, "Sorry. I can't focus."
"Why."
"Just can't. I'll try it again."
"Try what?"
"Whatever,' he waves a palm, 'What you were just talking about."
"Which was?"
"...I have no idea,' he finally laughs, 'I don't know if you plan on wrestling the hulk or practice talking me down, I don't see the point."
She laughs a bit in response and brushes her hair from her face. Leaning back she sinks briefly against a nearby tree, "A bit of both. I'm just trying to keep your ass out of jail. Out of Ross' hands-."
"Why."
"Why not?"
"Well for one thing-."
"No. Don't answer that,' she lifts a hand, 'We're going to work on breath control. Breathing, inhaling and exhaling. Alright?"
He stares, breaking with a wide smile and a laugh. He clears his throat over her response which is just an offended stare. He lifts his chin toward the clouds and crosses his arms, "Gosh, listen Nat, I appreciate it. I appreciate all of this, I do. But I've tried it all."
"Have you."
"Yes. I don't lack control, there's just something wrong with the hulk right now-."
"Have you run a dna sample? Checked your blood?"
"Yeah?"
"You haven't."
"I have."
"And?"
He shrugs, hands falling at his sides. He shifts his weight with his bare feet on the ground in his baggy sweats. It's an odd look for the doctor but Natasha doesn't seem all that fazed, "I've run everything. Aside from a higher radiation leve I can't explain it.
"Your eye color is softening."
He scoffs, "They're still green."
She lifts a twig from the ground and snaps it in two places, "Not the worst look on you."
"You should be running."
"I don't run away just because something gets hard. Not anymore."
He grows a bit angry, his chest puffing a bit, "I'm not your problem. And putting your neck out for me was the dumbest thing you've ever done."
She gasps a bit, splitting her stick and standing in a huff, "Do you want to repeat that?"
"You heard me. Why'd you do it?"
Natasha rotates in a fury, her temper flaring, "I shouldn't have."
"No duh."
"Stop! Giving me snark-! For ten minutes! I'm out here, in the middle of nowhere trying to help you-!"
"I don't want help!"
She snaps, stepping closer with her eyes on his, "I know! We all know! If you just asked for it instead of thinking you can always do everything on your own-."
"You can't help. What on earth could you possibly do to me that I haven't already done?! What. Drill...could you possibly come up with that doesn't get your shoulder ripped out of its socket."
"That's not what I'm talking about."
"I'm a threat! I could kill you! Is that what you want?! Seriously, have you thought this through? Go home, Natasha."
She mutters above a whisper, "Fine! Help yourself! You always think you know better-."
"I do!"
"Great!" Natasha moves to storm off in exasperation.
"Great!"
"When I get killed in our next battle, when you're locked up in some radioactive testing program, don't come crawling back to me. I've saved your butt more times than I can count."
"Natasha!"
"Just shut up! I don't want to hear it."
Bruce instantly regrets his tone, trying to call her back, "Natasha, wait."
The redhead refuses to turn around, taking wide steps to get away from him quicker.
"Natasha,' he groans and steps to keep pace with her and cuts her off with a solid and yet gentle hold on her shoulders as she turns, 'Just wait, I'm sorry. I'm sorry…"
She pulls her arms from his hold, lingering eyes when he immediately lifts his hands. She's in no rush to keep walking or part from him completely.
He shuts his eyes with a cringe, "I'm on edge, I'm sorry. I'm stressed out and I'm not in the right headspace-."
If the spy weren't so stubborn she'd retry opening conversation. She snaps instead with a gesture, "You don't think I know that? You woke up pissed off!"
"I know."
"I asked you if you wanted to work-."
"-I know."
"You don't know everything!"
"I know-,' he breaks with a nervous chuckle, 'Sorry. I'm sorry…"
She sinks into her hip with her hands searching for the ends of her sleeves to tug, "Why didn't you tell us what was going on with you? Why did you let it get to this point?"
"I- thought- I could handle it-."
"We're your teammates. You didn't think to mention you were going green at random? That was way more of a risk don't you think?"
He bites his tongue quite literally and nods. Taking her scolding.
She shakes her head with nothing but disappointment, eyeing his lips and then back up to his hazel tinted eyes, "We care about you."
He nods.
"You don't believe that," She sighs.
"Um,' he checks his finger, picking at a nail, 'No? It's me…I'm-."
"Call yourself a monster one more time and I will slap you."
"That's not smart."
Natasha tilts her head, "I will. It's called Aversion Therapy."
"I-."
"Eh!,' she lifts a threatening palm, watching him jolt, twitch and hold his breath, 'Don't say that phrase either…"
He gradually releases the tension in his facial features, his palms raised in defense, "I'm aware of that form of therapy...better?"
She lowers her hand and rolls her tongue over her teeth with gentler eyes.
Bruce drops his hands next, "...you're trying to help, I get it."
"You need to want it or all of this is a waste of time."
"...Mmhm." He nods.
Natasha takes a breath, tugging at her sweatshirt, "I thought you trusted me."
He sighs, briefly looking over his shoulder, "Natasha...I'm terrified of hurting you."
"You won't,' she scoffs, 'I trust you."
"Why?! I can't take that chance!"
"Why-."
"Because you're important to me!"
"...So are you."
Natasha is stuck on her words, suddenly uninterested in talking when he makes eye contact. She eyes his lips somewhere between wanting to slap him and kiss him passionately in the middle of nowhere;
"Look; I'm not trying to invalidate your words. Or how you feel. I know what it's like to be viewed as a monster. What it's like to, not be able to trust yourself. To feel like a threat that doesn't fit in. Sometimes I still feel like that, most of the time, actually...I used to wonder if my programming would trigger, if I'd snap and become the villain. I have nightmares like that all the time. And I think we have those in common," she shrugs with a casual click of her tongue.
He shakes his head, lips firm.
She pries softly, "What?"
"I don't like it when you beat yourself up. You're so much more than your inner demons."
"Touché."