Moremoremore. I am on a roll!

Chapter Five


Hulk

Banner keeps his promise.

He is there when Hulk eats. The food-things are better than before. Banner calls them 'hamburgers,' and shows Hulk how to eat them with his mouth closed. Banner even eats one of the food-things himself. Hulk makes him. Banner is too puny. Banner is hurt.

Hulk hurt Banner, made him weak. His face is covered in purple-brown-yellow-green, his eye black as black, and he makes faces when he thinks Hulk cannot see. Puny Banner does not heal. Like the white, and the leg. Hulk remembers that. Remembers the pain, and the people who flitted around them, lying sympathetic faces that cooed and smiled and never looked hard enough to see where their real hurt was - where their rage festered.

It makes Hulk feel strange, to know that Hulk hurt Banner – and the hurt will stay.

He growls when Banner moves too quickly. He snarls loudly when Banner reaches to him. He will not be touched again, not while Banner is still making Hulk feel so strange. Banner is hurt, and Hulk hurt him. Hulk should not touch Banner.

Banner does not seem angry that Hulk will not let him touch again. He sits back on the chair that he dragged into Hulk's shiny room. His shoulder hunches in pain but he does not wince, and he watches peacefully as Hulk smashes. There is a strange, haunted look in Banner's eyes.

They talk. Banner tells Hulk stories about people. Stories are like lies, but for fun. Hulk likes the stories. He likes the one about the giant, but the giant is stupid. Should smash puny Jack.

Hulk tells Banner about the small places. The words come easier when Banner is there. The small places are dark and Banner is small too, and Hulk is angry. The man is cruel, and Mummy cries. Hulk remembers and remembers until he roars with the remembering - and he smashes at the walls and the floor and breaks Banner's chair, but Banner is not angry that his chair is smashed. Banner just seems sad.

Banner tells Hulk about more numbers, even more numbers than seven. Hulk doesn't like the numbers very much. He knows that Banner loves them, loves all the numbers. But they make Hulk annoyed. Banner doesn't smell upset that Hulk does not like numbers. He reaches out again to pat Hulk's arm, but Hulk jerks it away and growls once more and shambles into a corner. No. Hulk hurt Banner. Banner should not touch Hulk.

Hulk smashes a place for Hulk to sleep. Banner laughs at it. His laugh is dull, and sour, and dusty. Hulk scowls, and Banner explains that people usually sleep on beds and not on a nest made of metal and rocks and smash.

People stupid. Hulk has already smashed the sleep, and so he will have no bad dreams.

He roars and throws a chunk of hard-grey-crumble-rock into the shiny walls when Banner gently suggests that he take a bath. He offers to help.

Hulk will not take a bath! Hulk is Hulk, the strongest one there is! Banner should show respect!

Banner does not flinch. "When you've quite finished throwing the concrete, stinky..." he says, and the words lilt with impatience.

Huh.

Banner is braver than Hulk thought.

Banner raises his puny hands. His voice is very soft.

Hulk growls some more. He will NOT take stupid bath.

Banner sighs. Hulk ignores how the sigh makes Hulk's insides turn strangely. Banner always confuses Hulk; why should this be different? Banner does not insist on the bath. He does, however, insist that Hulk rub at his teeth with a stick. The stick is scratchy on one end, and it tastes like sharp cold mornings. Banner rubs a little stick over his own teeth, showing Hulk how.

Hulk's tongue feels funny afterwards.

He sleeps. Banner stays. There are no shapes and colours. He does not dream.

When he wakes, Banner is gone, but there is a soft warm thing covering Hulk's shoulders, and the ghost-voice says that he will be back.

Hulk grunts, and waits.


Bruce

"Are you okay?" Tony asked as Bruce sank into the welcome embrace of Tony's appallingly expensive leather armchair in the large communal kitchen-lounge. His hands were shaking slightly.

Bruce hesitated, and then pinched his nose. A headache was forming behind his eyes. "Yes. Give me a moment."

Out of the corner of his eye he saw Tony exchange a look with Steve. It irritated him, and he cleared his throat, dropping his hand and giving them a pointed look. "What?"

"Doctor Banner," Steve began.

"Leave it," he said sharply.

"Big guy, we need to know what's going on in that freaky head of yours," Tony said, his arms folding. He looked like he wasn't about to take no for an answer, and so Bruce rolled his eyes upwards and answered the unspoken questions.

"I can feel things when I'm near him. He's getting the hang of understanding me. He won't take a damn bath, and I have a headache. Now leave it."

"Nope," Tony said, and leaned against the counter with his hip, his fingers tapping his forearm. "That's not what we're asking."

Bruce glanced up at where the two of them stood with expectant looks on their faces, and tried to restrain a surge of irritation. Apparently too much time with Hulk had a rather deleterious effect on his mood. "Oh?"

"What was all that about? Earlier?"

"Which bit?"

"Stark, maybe we should give him a little space..." Steve murmured.

"Yeah, Stark, give me some space," Bruce echoed mockingly.

"That attitude of yours has gone from zero to a hundred and ten in five seconds, pookie," Tony said, and his mouth crooked into a half-smile. "Let's talk about that."

"I told you, I can feel things when I'm near him. I'm not..." Bruce swallowed, "empty."

"Gathered that, but what was with the whole throwing up? And you said us. So what's the deal with that, exactly? Not that I don't have my brilliant theories, but hey, we all know your opinions on brilliant Hulk theories. Even when they've been proved incontrovertibly and awesomely right, not that there was ever any doubt, hello, genius here. But still, it'd be better to go into this with as much data as possible. So, you two. Aaaaand, go."

Bruce's fist clenched reflexively. "I'm still working on it."

"We need to know, Bruce, we're your team, we've got to help you both."

"No-one asked you to," Bruce snapped.

Tony raised an eyebrow.

"Sorry," Bruce said, and pinched his nose again. "I'm sorry. Fuck."

"What's going on, Doctor Banner?" Steve asked. He sat down in the chair opposite Bruce and leaned forward in concern, his elbows resting on his knees.

Bruce closed his eyes, hiding his face for a moment behind his raised hand. Oh, I've discovered that Tony was right about everything, from the very first day we met, he debated saying. My abused and angry childhood id is asleep in a cell downstairs, and now I have to take on his every action as mine because we are in fact the same fucking person split in two. One hundred and forty eight people, all dead at my- our - hands. He won't let me touch him anymore because he feels guilty. I can barely breathe because of my own guilt. I'm a murderer, and a gaoler. He's like a child, and I locked him up. I'm still locking him up. He smashes without thinking, and he smashes when he does think. Everything confuses him, and confusion makes him angry. I don't feel alive when I'm apart from him. I'm getting more and more numb as we speak.

And he won't take a goddamned bath.

"It's complicated," he mumbled.

"I'm good at complicated," said Tony in what had to be the understatement of the century.

Steve smiled. "We'll listen. What happened tonight?"

"He ate, he smashed, he cleaned his teeth," Bruce said, and his hand dropped into his lap as his head thudded back against the headrest. There was a dull throbbing feeling growing just over his left eyebrow. "I talked to him some more."

"Why'd you throw up?" asked Tony bluntly.

Because I'm a murderer. My gamma-powered survival instinct kills people. "Never mind."

"Doctor Banner," Steve said, gentle and understanding.

"Would it kill you to call me Bruce?" he snapped, and immediately regretted it. His emotional reactions were increasing exponentially the more time he spent in the adamantium cell. They even lasted longer after his departure, and the numbness took more time to take root after each exposure. He'd have to run some tests.

"Whoa there, grumpy," Tony said, raising his hands and smirking. "Defensive, much?"

Bruce glowered at him.

"By the way, told you so," Tony sing-songed. "Oh, still feels good. That's never getting old. Told you so. Told you so. Hey, Brucey-babes, isn't your IQ actually higher than mine? Well guess what, I told you-"

"Shut up," Bruce said, and that was actually sort of nice. Telling Tony to shut up was becoming a comfortable kind of reflex.

Still smirking, Tony subsided.

"Do I need to know?" Steve said, looking from one man to the other.

"Uh," Bruce managed, and his eyes slid over to his triumphantly grinning friend. "Probably not."

"What Bruce is trying to say – badly - is that I am a very great genius who wins at life," Tony declared. "But of course this is not news to anyone."

"Oh god, does he have an off-switch?" Bruce moaned. Tony's smirk suddenly turned lascivious.

"Yes," he said, and winked.

"Oh god," Bruce said again.

"I don't actually want to know what that means, do I?" Steve sighed.

"No," Bruce said as hurriedly as he could.

"Such a filthy mind, Doctor," Tony said, and slung himself over the arm of the chair. "So. Spill. Jackson Pollock impression all over the floor. Why?"

"Delayed reaction, maybe, physical response to stress and fear," Bruce lied, and changed the subject as swiftly as possible. "You know, I think Hulk might be ready to start talking to others. I mean apart from me and Tony. Because he talks to you, doesn't he?"

The look Tony gave him was openly suspicious at the change of topic, but he ran with it. "He's been talking to me for days. He likes me."

"Yes, I know," Bruce said, and deliberately refused to consider what that suggested about his own feelings for the billionaire. "He quotes Rule One a lot."

"Rule One?"

"No scare, no smash," Tony told Steve.

"Although he's not so hot at the 'no scare' part," Bruce murmured.

"He's nine feet tall, he's working with a disadvantage," Tony shrugged.

"He still smashes when he gets confused."

"Not people, though. He likes the stuff I got for him. Did you see what he did with the I-beams? We could sell that; call it 'Hulk Hates Mondays' and put it in a gallery."

"Doc- er, Bruce, do you think he's ready to start working with the whole team?" Steve asked.

Bruce's head hurt. "No, not just yet. Look, we need a plan here."

"Oh, now he wants to talk."

"Shut up Tony." Yes, that definitely felt good. "He likes Tony, and he... well, he's not exactly comfortable with me, but he listens. The problem is still the smashing. When he gets confused he gets angry, and other people confuse him. We need to work out how to get the rest of the team involved without overloading him." He twisted his hands absently as he thought. "I think he'd be all right with one other person, but not two."

"How about you and me?" Tony suggested.

"Sorry?" Bruce blinked, and then tried to stifle the blush that came roaring up the column of his neck. "Oh, right. You and I with... yes. I think if he got used to the two of us, he might get the hang of small groups. If we introduce the variable team members one at a time..."

"Then he'll get the chance to interact with everyone individually, but with..."

"...a safety net, an emotional buffer. Us. The people..."

"...that he's most comfortable with," Tony finished. Then he gave Bruce a blinding grin. "Damn, nice to have you firing on all cylinders again, Jolly Green."

"But there needs to be a purpose behind all this," Steve interjected. "We can't just go in and sit with him."

"Don't see why not," Tony said, cocking his head.

"See the previously mentioned confusion equals smash equation," said Bruce.

"Ah."

"Would he be all right with me?" Steve offered, and drew himself up when the two dark heads turned to him. "I mean, he follows my orders in the field. He knows me. And he doesn't have the problems with me that he does with Thor and Natasha."

"May...be," Bruce said slowly.

"Not bad, Cap," Tony said, giving him an appraising look. "Me, then you. Then Birdbrain?"

"That's probably best," Bruce sighed.

"What can we do?" Steve leaned forward, his brow furrowing. "How can we help train him?"

"JARVIS, let's get something together here," Tony said as he moved towards the fridge, pulling out some fancy microbrew and cracking it open. "Some sort of list. Behavioural development steps. Cross-reference to the signposts for a..." Tony took a sip, and then squinted at Bruce, "three year old?"

"About right."

"A three year old. A super-strong three year old."

"Yes Sir. May I suggest that the physical development milestones for gross motor movement be overlooked in this case?"

"Good call, JARVIS, not like the green guy needs any help there."

"There are however some fine motor skills I feel would be beneficial towards Mr. Hulk's further education, in addition to speech, understanding, intellectual and social instruction."

"Okay, lay it on us."

Bruce let out a minute sigh of relief. Both Tony and Steve immediately began arguing over the new information, firing out ideas for exercises and activities for Hulk to try. Neither one called him out on his clumsy evasion from before.


"Got the balloons?"

"Yes. Hey, d'you like the colours?"

"I hate you, Tony."

"Aw, kitten. You say the sweetest things."

Bruce stepped into what was beginning to be known as the Hulk-cage, and peered into the murk. Hulk rumbled, "Banner back."

"Hello, Hulk." It was bizarre, essentially saying hello to yourself, Bruce mused. "Brought you a visitor."

Hulk shifted and moved forward into the light. He was holding a rock in one hand, and his fingers flexed around it absently, causing flakes and pebbles to scatter onto the debris-covered floor. "Hulk busy."

"What are you doing?" Bruce sat down on a twisted metal sheet that clearly bore the imprint of huge knuckles.

"Making."

"Making what?"

"Numbers." Hulk held out his rock and shuffled backwards. "Hulk does Banner numbers. Work."

Bruce's eyebrows shot up. "Sorry, what? You're doing... like I do? An experiment?"

"Experiment," Hulk said slowly as though tasting the word, and then he nodded his great head. "Hulk makes experiment with numbers. Like Banner."

Bruce peered around the huge green bulk to where a row of rocks, bits of concrete and torn metal sat in a row. "Can I help?"

Hulk scowled. "Hulk's experiment!"

"Easy," Bruce said and held up his hands. "We're not going to take it away. But Tony is good at experiments too, remember? Do you remember the lab, the white room where the, um, computers and screens and things are? Where Tony and I work?"

Hulk dropped his rock at the end of the row and gave his 'experiment' a hard, calculating look. Then he huffed. "Easier to think with Banner. Words are easier. Hulk remembers white place. Banner thinks too fast in white place. Tony talks too fast in white place. Not in white place now."

"Fuck me drunk, he's twice as with it when you're around, isn't he?" came Tony's voice from the doorway.

"Tony, get back," Bruce hissed as Hulk stood with purposeful menace, his body unfolding and his shoulders looming large as his head turned to glare at the engineer.

"Nah, Hulk and I are buds. We're good," Tony said breezily, and sauntered into the mess-strewn room. "Hey, Hulkster."

Hulk's eyes narrowed at Tony for a long moment, and then he grunted again. "Metal Man. Tony."

"Yep. Good to see you too."

"Metal Man is okay," Hulk said, and an imperceptible tension bled away from those gigantic shoulders. "Not smashed."

"All present and correct," Tony agreed. "Whatcha doing?"

"Experiment."

Tony gave Bruce a sly sidelong look. "Well, well, well. Chip off the old block, aren't you? Come on, show us what you got so far."

Bruce watched dry mouthed and disbelieving as Hulk shuffled aside to show Tony his row of rocks and rubbish. "Numbers. Banner told Hulk numbers. Hulk counts them."

"Oh, hey, that's awesome!" Tony hunkered down into a crouch and smiled at one of the metal pieces, twisted into a strange pair of rabbit ears. "Is that seven?"

Hulk nodded, and made the peace sign again. "Seven."

"That's not actually..." Bruce began helplessly.

"Shut it, Bruciekins, you're contaminating the results. No faffing with the data," Tony said, and grinned. "What are the others?"

Hulk pointed at each one. "One. Two. Two-one. Four. Fire. Team. Seven. Food. Smash. Ten."

"What," stated Bruce, toneless with disbelief.

Tony bit down on his lip, hard. "Awesome experiment, buddy."

Hulk looked immensely pleased with himself. His eyes glittered. "Hulk does experiment. Like Banner."

"Actually, he got some of that right," Tony said in a more conversational tone. "There's six in the team, after all. I bet 'food' is a reference to eating; 'ate' instead of 'eight'. Teaching him about homonyms is gonna be fun. Why is smash nine?"

"Do I look like I know?" Bruce said.

"Well, that's your Wonder Twin doing the counting, I thought maybe you'd have some sort of insight," Tony straightened and grinned up at Hulk. He gave the brawny upper arm a congratulatory smack with the back of his hand. "Nice work. We'll have to get you a labcoat. Do they make them in Giga-X-L?"

With a triumphant flash of pebble-like teeth, Hulk copied the smack - and Tony skidded across several feet of rubble to slump against Bruce.

"Ah!" Bruce choked as his injuries howled at him. Tony was heavier than he looked. Gavin was going to be unimpressed at how Bruce was managing to botch his recovery.

"Metal Man!"

"Wait," Bruce croaked. "I've got him. Hold on."

Hulk rumbled low in his throat, his worried eyes fixed on the two men. "Banner hurt."

"Banner's very hurt, but Banner's got this," he answered, fighting the dampness pricking at his eyes. "Ah, jeez. Tony?"

"Hnngh," said Tony, and for some unknown reason he giggled.

Bruce hauled at his dazed friend with his good arm, trying to keep him upright. Tony was as unmanageable dazed as he was lucid, and slid downwards on wobbly legs. Bruce hoisted Tony's arm over his shoulder and ignored the twinge from his collarbone as he whispered into the closest ear, "Um. Maybe not so much with the affectionate violence?"

"Didja get the number of that helicarrier?" Tony mumbled. Bruce relaxed as Tony focused on him and smiled vaguely. He'd be fine, he was just a bit winded. "Oh, hey there Brucey. Anyone ever tell you that your hair is really... really... really spaniely? It is. It's totally like a spaniel curled up on your head."

"Ah, not to my knowledge," Bruce said dryly. "The whole rage monster thing, you understand."

"Well it is. S'like a spaniel," Tony said, and a hand reached up to tug down one of his curls and release it, making it bounce upwards like a spring. "Fun, too. Hair with torque."

"He's all right," Bruce told Hulk, who was shifting on his feet again, his massive green face worried. "But let's not do that again, okay? You're a lot bigger and stronger than everyone else. You have to be careful with us puny people, remember?"

"Rule One," Hulk said mournfully.

"Uh-uh, nope," Tony said, and struggled upwards. His eyes were rapidly refocusing. "Time for a new rule. Rule Two: making mistakes is okay. That's how we learn things."

Hulk took a short step forward, and then stepped back, eyes bewildered. Then he let out a gruff breath. "Rule Two."

Tony staggered to his feet. "Ow. Yeah, two. See your experiment?"

Hulk's head gradually turned. Then his finger reached out, ever so slowly, and he touched the crumpled piece of corrugated iron that was his second 'number'. "Two."

"Mistakes are okay," Tony repeated. Then he rubbed at his arm. "Ow. You all right there, Punky Brucester?"

"Punky Brucester?" Bruce said incredulously.

"Not one of my better ones, I'll admit, but I just got Hulk-swatted. Sue me."

"I can't afford to go up against your battalions of lawyers and Pepper," Bruce returned, relieved that Tony was bantering again. He was definitely fine.

"Hells to the yes, Pepper is scary," Tony said proudly – a little too proudly. The sadness threading through the words wasn't very well hidden. Hulk made a soft rumbling noise, leaning down to peer at them. "Heya, Green Bean, I'm okay. You made a mistake, but I sort of asked for it. I made a mistake as well, see?"

Hulk wrinkled his nose. "Tony needs Rules. Like Hulk."

Bruce stifled a laugh.

"You would not believe how many people agree with you," Tony said, shaking himself a little and pushing his weight off Bruce. "Thanks for the save, Big B."

"Rule Two," Hulk grunted. "Mistakes okay."

"Very good," Bruce said softly, and the Hulk's face lit up at the praise, baring his teeth in that fearsome smile once more. He thought of reaching out to touch that lowered face again, and decided against it. Hulk would draw away, and Bruce didn't feel like facing up to a whole new round of Tony Stark-brand questioning (also known as 'badgering', 'pestering' and 'being unwholesomely perceptive').

"Tony hit Hulk," Hulk said, and tipped his head. "Hulk not upset. Mistakes okay."

"He didn't mean it as a bad thing," Bruce told him. "It was to congratulate you on your... your experiment."

Hulk's chest puffed up. "Hulk's experiment."

"But yes, he made a mistake by hitting you," Bruce said, giving Tony a very loaded glance. "He won't do it again."

"Hulk sorry," Hulk offered. Bruce's breath caught. He never, ever thought he'd hear... and now he'd heard it twice. Hulk could be sorry. This massive being composed of pure rage could actually feel remorse.

His hand rose slowly, drifting through the air towards his other face. He couldn't have stopped it if he tried.

Hulk gave it a startled look and immediately shuffled backwards on his mammoth feet, his brows beetling. "No. Banner no touch Hulk."

Bruce's hand dropped. "Right."

Tony looked from one of them to the other, his face growing concerned. "What's this?"

"I'll tell you later," Bruce lied.

Hulk snorted and gave Bruce a sardonic sort of look. Too late Bruce remembered that Hulk had a kind of sixth sense about lies. He gave his other self a pleading look, shaking his head infinitesimally. Hulk snorted again, before giving a grunt of assent.

"If he won't touch, maybe we should try something else," Tony whispered, and Bruce, too overcome by nerves to hold it back, chuckled.

"No, he'll go near you. I'll... watch, I'll be here in case... Hulk? Do you want to try another experiment?"

Hulk sank into his normal squat, his expression clearing. "Experiment?"

"Yeah," Tony said, not taking his eyes from Bruce. Suspicion was written all over his face. "It's an experiment we think you can help us with."

"Hulk's experiment?"

"Like that, yes," Bruce said. "But instead of numbers, it's touch."

Hulk immediately scowled. "No. Hulk no touch."

"No, not me," Bruce said, and gave him(self) a smile. "You and Tony can do the experiment."

"Tony?"

"You, me and science," Tony said, and smirked at Bruce. "I'm so getting him a labcoat. You've been replaced, Brucey-babes."

"Ah, woe, rejected by the cool kids, how shall I ever survive, I'll write angsty poetry in my diary and paint my nails black," Bruce deadpanned, and turned to go and get the balloons.

"The only one who gets to paint your nails is me, remember!" Tony called after him. "It's in the contractual arrangement of super secret science club!"

"I don't recall ever signing anything."

"Unwritten contractual arrangement, you agreed when you drooled all over my iongenic microscope prototype."

"But you've already found my replacement. I'm a free agent."

"Binding contractual agreement," Tony stressed.

"Talks too fast," Hulk grumbled. "Hulk not understand."

"It's not worth it, believe me," Bruce muttered, and slipped out the door.

He paused for a moment, leaning against the outside of the adamantium cell and allowing the numbness to settle a little. His breath was coming a little fast and he could use the break that distance from Hulk allowed him. Well. That could have gone better. Tony now knew that Hulk wouldn't touch him anymore, which... not great. The questioning was no doubt going to intensify. He'd be expected to give some answers sooner or later.

He'd better start thinking of some.

Bruce grabbed the bunch of balloons by their trailing ties and took a last deep breath as the murmur of Tony's voice and the gravelly rumble that was Hulk drifted out into the antechamber. He fixed a more neutral expression on his face as he entered.

"... so let's let him make it up to – oh, hey again, grumpy. See? Do you like 'em?" Tony whirled around to grin again at Hulk, who was looking distinctly obstinate.

"No, Hulk won't," Hulk told Tony with some finality. He then squinted over at the bunch of balloons in Bruce's hand. "Metal Man colours!"

"I know, right? I knew you'd like the colours." Tony gave Bruce a very smug look, and then gently - and carefully - patted Hulk's hand. "These are for our experiment."

Hulk reached out and tapped a balloon and it bounced from his huge forefinger, swaying back and forth.

"I'm beginning to feel like an amusement park attendant," Bruce commented while his brain raced over the snippet of conversation he'd just heard. What was Tony playing at? Bruce would wager the entirety of his meagre possessions that he'd just walked in on Tony trying to convince Hulk to let Bruce touch him again. Meddler. "Do you want to take these?"

"You're doing such a good job, you can keep 'em," Tony said. "Besides, you look so good in my colours, baby doll."

"Hilarious."

"Hey, it's a real burden to be this charming and witty," Tony said with an airy wave of a hand. "So, Hulk, buddy. Here's the idea. We've got these because although we've got some idea of your strength, we haven't got a clue about how gentle you can be. Can you take one of these without popping it?"

With an affronted scowl Hulk said, "Hulk can take floaty round thing!"

"Without popping it?"

"Yes!"

"Can we see?" Bruce asked, holding out the bunch of balloons at arm's length. Hulk's face grew a little apprehensive as he regarded his other half, but he knuckled forward and reached for one, the closest, a large yellow balloon that bobbed about in front of his nose.

The minute Hulk's giant fingers closed around it, it burst with an almighty bang! Tony burst out laughing at the look of shock on Hulk's face. The giant was frozen, eyes wide.

Then those eyes clouded over in remembered rage and pain.

Bruce's mouth dropped open. "Um, Tony?"

A growl began to build in Hulk's chest.

"Remember what I told you about Hulk and thunder and lightning?"

Tony's face drained to white. "Maybe we didn't totally think this through."

"No, really?"

Hulk's growl was rapidly becoming a roar, and his eyes were starting out of his head in rage and fear. "Hulk!"

With an echoing snarl, Hulk moved. Huge green arms immediately wrapped themselves around Bruce, and he choked as he was pressed against Hulk's chest. Next to him Tony was making little gasping sounds, tucked under Hulk's other arm.

"Hulk, it's okay, it's not a gun!" Bruce wheezed.

"Ross!" Hulk said viciously, and wrapped himself even further around the two men. "ROSS! Hurts, always hurts! Run, run to the green places!"

"No!" Tony managed, and then coughed. "Man, you are ponging. It was just the balloon popping, Hulkster. Everything's fine. It's okay."

"SMASH ROSS! LEAVE HULK ALONE!"

"There's no Ross! It's not him! It's not a gun!" Bruce gabbled, and pushed himself away from Hulk as much as he could to crane up at the frantic green face above them. Hulk was sheltering them with his body as his head swang back and forth, his lip curling. "There aren't any guns, Hulk, there's no-one to fight."

"Smash Ross," Hulk snarled savagely. Then he blinked and his angry, frightened eyes seemed to focus on the room again. "Where...?"

"No guns," Bruce repeated. "It was just the balloon popping, just the balloon. It's okay, it's all okay."

"Well, we got him to touch you again," Tony whispered.

"No Ross," Hulk said, and he sounded so lost.

"You mean you did this deliberately?" Bruce hissed to Tony, before concentrating on Hulk again. "No, he's not here. It's like the thunder, remember that? It sounds like a gun, but it's not. The balloon popped."

Hulk's arms tightened fractionally.

"He's not letting go," Tony said clinically. "He smells like feet and old sweat. Gross."

"I am so fucking angry with you," Bruce muttered to him. "We'll talk about this later."

"Yeah, we've got a lot to cover," Tony said with a hard and knowing glint in his eye.

Shit.

"Green places," Hulk finally said. "Betty."

"Right," Bruce said, almost boneless in relief.

"Not Ross."

"The balloon popped. It makes a bang. It's not a gun."

"No smashing?" Hulk said, sounding just a little disappointed.

"Sorry, Big Green," Tony said, and patted Hulk's chest comfortingly. Then he wiped his hand on his jeans.

With another blink of his eyes Hulk seemed to realise that he was still cradling them. He jerked his arms outwards with shocking suddenness and hunched back in on himself. Tony and Bruce both sprawled onto the rubble, and Bruce groaned. "Ah god. Ouch. Oh, fuck, my ribs, ah... This is not helping with the whole recuperation thing."

"Like you were ever going to actually follow Nurse Stupidface's orders," Tony rolled his eyes upwards, before groaning himself. "There's. A something. In the middle of my back. Ow."

"Hulk thought..." Hulk mumbled, and Bruce sat up as quickly as he dared with every nerve ending singing in pain. "Hulk make bang?"

"Yes. Look, watch me?" Bruce clambered awkwardly to his feet, pushing off the floor with his one good hand and lurching to one side as he found his balance. "Urgh. Right." He snagged a balloon by the tie, and pulled it down. It was red, and the surge of irritation that rushed through his chest was tinged with fondness. He decided not to examine that too closely. "Now, if I hold the balloon gently..." His fingers closed around it. "See? It doesn't pop. It doesn't make the bang."

"Bang," Hulk repeated owlishly. "Like gun, but not."

"Right," Bruce said. "Here. You give it a try? Remember, if it goes bang..."

"Not gun." Hulk nodded. He reached out to the red balloon that Bruce had used to demonstrate, and then drew his hand back a fraction. "No. Not Banner. Hulk not touch Banner. Tony."

"You just smothered him in your stink, grizzly bear," Tony pointed out, and Hulk's face screwed up.

"No," he said, and his other hand thudded against the floor. "Tony. Take bloons."

"Bal-loons," Tony corrected as he pushed back onto his knees and dusted his hands on his jeans, before brushing vigorously at his hair to get the cement dust out of it. "Fine, give 'em here. You guys love to ignore it when I'm right, don't you?"

"It's a gift," Bruce said, handing over the balloons. His hands fell to twisting together, the fingers linking and unlinking. "Hulk?"

"Experiment," Hulk said, and reached out to grasp that same red balloon again. His fingers closed around it with a peculiar tenderness, and he rocked back on his haunches as he lifted it to his face to peer at it.

"No bang," he said, pleased as punch. "No bang!"

"That's fantastic, big fella!" Tony congratulated him, and without turning his head he slapped Bruce rather hard on the back.

"That's really great, Hulk," Bruce added, before muttering, "oh, you are just asking for it now."

"Bring it, spaniel boy," Tony muttered back, before giving Hulk two thumbs up. "You totally got it!"

"Well done," Bruce said. "I'm proud of you."

Hulk beamed, proud and puzzled. Then he frowned. "Hulk made mistake. Bloon. Not gun. Rule Two?"

"Totally fine, Hulkster," Tony soothed. "It happens. Mistakes are good; mistakes are how we learn."

"You're allowed to make mistakes," Bruce confirmed when Hulk turned to him, the question in his eyes. The balloon stayed whole in his massive fingers, and Bruce had the random thought that he rather looked like Christmas.

"And hey, this whole thing started with a mistake, didn't it?" Tony gave Bruce a loaded look. "That's how you began in the first place."

Bruce shot him a deadly glare. "Watch your back, Stark."

"My head doesn't twist around that far."

"Yet."

"Oooh, classic bitchy Banner. Love it."

"Hulk pick up more bloons," Hulk said, evidently tiring of their bickering. He reached out with his other hand to the bunch floating above his head.

"He likes 'em," Tony commented neutrally as they watched him. Two more popped in his face, but unlike the first time they didn't trigger a flashback to gunfire. Hulk simply sneered at the shreds on his fingers and tried again.

"He's essentially a child, I think," Bruce answered.

"He's you."

Bruce's heart faltered a little, but he set his jaw and continued to watch Hulk carefully grasp balloons. "Yeah."

"You were one hell of an angry kid."

He smiled mirthlessly. "Tony, you have no idea."

"You're not getting out of talking about this, Bruce."

"Would you care to rephrase that in the form of a wager?"

"You can't afford the kind of bets I make. Anyway, when it comes to being right about Hulk, I'm the clear favourite in the race."

"In more than one way," Bruce sighed. "Look, did you mean for that to happen with the balloons? Get him to grab us like that?"

"Nah. But I wasn't upset that it happened. Were you?"

"He's too dangerous for that sort of mistake to happen."

"And you'd know."

Bruce didn't answer.

Eventually Hulk began to tire of the game. "Boring," he announced. "Hulk can take bloons, no more bang."

"Maybe..." Bruce stepped forward and noted with a sinking feeling that Hulk took one corresponding step backwards. "We could try this?" He grabbed a yellow balloon that was now decorated with a giant grubby handprint, and batted it gently through the air towards Hulk.

Hulk's eyebrows rose. "Moves."

"But gently," Bruce said. "If you tap it too hard..."

"Bang."

"Bang," Bruce said, nodding.

Hulk drew himself up, his teeth baring. "Hulk can do that," he boasted, and swiped at a balloon. It exploded immediately, and Hulk jerked back with his mouth open. Then he let out a short roar of annoyance – almost a bark.

"Gotta do it even more gently than that, big guy," Tony told him. "Look." He pushed a balloon towards Bruce, who sent it gliding back to the engineer. "If you're gentle, you can make it move between people. See?"

Hulk watched it drift between them a few more times, frowning in fascination. Then he awkwardly hopped forward on the knuckles of one hand and the balls of his feet, and slowly lifted his free hand. "Hulk tries?"

"Here," Bruce said, and sent the balloon floating towards him.

Bang!

"Whoops," Tony said cheerfully.

"Rule Two," Hulk said, scowling down at his hand.

"Rule Two. Try again," Tony suggested. "Red one this time. Red's a good colour."

"Red," Hulk rumbled, and then nodded. "Like Metal Man."

"Which makes it awesome. Here we are," Tony said, and another balloon went soaring through the air.

Two more balloons popped before Hulk got the hang of it. Then he insisted that he recreate the passing game with all of them. The balloon drifted between them in an oddly peaceful silence, and Bruce found himself relaxing as it described a serene circle. Hulk's face was contorted in concentration as he pushed the balloon with utter delicacy towards Bruce, who passed it on to Tony. The only sound was the soft thud of hands hitting the red balloon. Watching it, Bruce could feel the tension inside him begin to uncurl.

It was... strangely nice. Bruce wasn't very used to nice. It was certainly the last situation he'd ever expected to find it.

At last Hulk sat down on his debris-strewn floor with a loud boom, the pebbles and gravel rattling. He scratched at his side while he yawned. "Hulk hungry."

"I think they've got a ton of chicken and salad sandwiches for you today," Tony said, and sprawled carelessly beside him. Bruce shuffled his feet, uncertain of his welcome should he attempt to sit as well.

"Like hamburger?"

"A bit like them," Bruce said. "Something new. I like them, so you probably will too."

Hulk made a purling, satisfied noise deep in his chest and absently batted at a balloon like some giant radioactive kitten. "Hulk experiment."

"You're really good at it," Bruce said, and Hulk's eyes lifted to meet his and oh. Oh.

Of course. Why didn't he realise? Of course that little boy in there wants approval from some sort of male authority figure. All the approval that you never got.

"Hulk experiment like Banner," he said, and Bruce nodded, too dumbstruck to speak.

"I'm getting you a lab coat," Tony said, and nudged Hulk's knee very softly. "Professor Hulk."

Hulk simply frowned at that, obviously not understanding.

"I'm getting some new pants for you as well, because buddy, you are starting to make me feel lightheaded. Gotta wash up and get clean before you start growing moss."

Hulk definitely understood that. "No bath!"

"Okay," Bruce managed. "Not a bath. But you liked the rain, yes?"

Hulk growled under his breath, clearly confused as to where this line of questioning was leading.

"Well, Tony has special things which are like rain," Bruce explained. "Showers. That could help. You can't be comfortable like that."

With a puzzled glance down at his legs, Hulk pulled a little at the frayed knees of the dirty grey pants. "Rain."

"I can help," Bruce offered, and wasn't the least bit surprised at the loud response of "No! Banner not touch Hulk!" that eventuated.

"No probs, I got this," Tony said confidently. "Hey Mean Green?"

Hulk gave a last glare at Bruce before dropping his eyes to Tony. "Tony."

"How do you feel about Star Man coming with us for our rain experiment?"

"Star Man," Hulk repeated, and something strange passed through his eyes. Bruce couldn't place nor parse it. "Star Man, not Banner."

"He knows lots about rain," Tony said. "And he's a goddamned authority on being squeaky clean."

"Banner still there?" Hulk asked, and Tony turned to Bruce with an exasperated look.

"Not sure what he wants," he said.

"I don't think he knows what he wants either," Bruce sighed, before pasting on a smile for the sake of that little boy. "Yes, Hulk. I'll be there if you want. I won't help, but I'll be there."

After a short pause, Hulk jerked his head in a decisive nod. "Rain. Hulk does rain experiment. Star Man, Tony, Banner, Hulk."

"Oh, thank god," said Bruce fervently.

"Testify," agreed Tony, just as fervently.

"But."

Tony froze. "Please don't have changed your mind already."

Hulk's face was set in a petulant sulk. "Food first?"


Aaaaaand here we go! Training starts in earnest now. This chapter was originally a lot longer, but I've cut it in half. More fic: all part of the service!

Hulk has an experiment. It is called 'reviewing.'