"You ready, big guy?" Natasha smirked as their private copter touched down on land.
Bruce inhaled deeply before nodding his head. Now was the moment to face his fears. And if hell broke loose, he had tranquilizers that were guaranteed to knock him out. "Promise me you'll stay here out of harm's way."
Natasha reassuringly pat his knee. "Promise. And I'll shoot if you look like you're getting too crazy," she added. The Widow knew the drill and she respected Bruce's conditions.
He gave her hand a quick squeeze before he left his seat to remove his shirt and glasses.
"Bruce?" Natasha spoke up. His jaw came into her view as he turned his head. "What do you think of when you get angry?"
He stepped towards the helicopter's door and pushed it open. Between the obnoxious whirling of the copter's wings, his low voice muttered "myself."
Natasha watched him leave and made her way to the pilot's seat. "He's good to go, Stark," she announced through her headset. "Keep your eyes open for green." A thunderous roar followed her comment. "Try paying attention to the music, Bruce," Natasha warned over the vehicle's speaker system. She started to play Bruce's CD, hoping that the Hulk would respond well to the classical masterpieces. The copter lifted up off the ground and Natasha followed the rustling tops of the trees below her. She loomed over the Hulk and spotted the red of Tony's suit several feet away. "How about we try deep breathing?" Natasha offered over the speakers. She felt a trembling below her as a tree crashed to the ground. "Don't you like me, big guy?" she teased.
Hulk growled and leapt off the ground, his hands making a mad grab for the contraption hovering above him.
"It's not you, Romanoff," Tony assured.
"Less talking, Stark. Watch your back," Natasha lectured. She noticed the Hulk spot Tony and he charged for the hotrod red suit. The brawl below her was almost as good as the wrestling matches she occasionally caught on TV. She would have preferred it if Tony would fight back instead of take the punches, but she couldn't be picky.
The beast lifted Tony's suit up by the ankle and slammed him into the dirt. Tony swore and sent a repulsor beam into the beast's chest. The Hulk roared and grabbed Tony's helmet and began to squeeze.
"C'mon, Banner!" Tony hissed. "We just started this trial! I'm trying to run data here!"
Natasha immediately put the copter into autopilot and grabbed the tranquilizer gun at her side. "Shooting him now!"
"I've got it!" Tony's voice hissed into her headset. The blasters from his shoes emitted a fire that scalded Hulk's toes until his large hands dropped the metal man. "Don't play with fire, Banner," Tony warned, outstretching his hands.
The Hulk threw his opponent a fiery glare before he lunged at the suit like a bull to a matador. Tony was just about to fire a round of blasts when the Hulk ripped one of the hands straight off of the suit's body.
Tony flew high over the beast's head, examining his free, but unscathed, hand. "Could've ended worse," he commented.
"Yeah," Natasha agreed. "You really came out lucky…"
Tony brought his attention to Bruce's alter ego following Natasha's remark. The Hulk's yellowed teeth were busy chomping down on several fingers as if they were chunks of meat. Tony winced, grateful those weren't his own digits. "I think now might be a good time to change him back…"
Natasha threw open the helicopter's door and raised her gun.
The Hulk was too busy swallowing back chunks of wires and iron to know what was coming.
"Heart rate's normal," Tony noticed as he hovered over Bruce's small frame.
Natasha knelt down and gently nudged Bruce's shoulder. "Gotta get up, Bruce." She draped his shirt over his bare back. "Sleep on the ride home."
He stirred and cracked open his eyes to blurred scenery.
"Grab an arm," Natasha urged Tony. She proceeded to prop Bruce up, but a rushed "no" forced Natasha to stop.
Bruce's palms smacked the ground in an effort to keep his body from toppling into the dirt. He blankly stared at the ground with furrowed brows as he saw three sets of Tony's legs standing before him.
Natasha noticed the scientist's cheeks take on an unnatural shade of green. "Bruce?"
Tony winced and took a good step backwards. "I don't think the 'iron suit diet' agreed with him."
Natasha ignored the comment and remained kneeling at Bruce's side. "Stark, get some water!" She gingerly pat Bruce on the back and his hand made a weak attempt to push her away.
His head dropped as his stomach violently churned. 'Iron suit diet'… He erupted into a coughing fit as the acid in his stomach rose.
"You're okay," Natasha soothed, lightly patting his back.
Bruce felt something lodged in his throat that forced him to gag until his bile aided in dislodging the object from his windpipe. He spit up into the dirt and gasped for air once the contents of his stomach were emptied. Staring up at him from the ground were pieces of wires and teeth-marked shards of iron smothered in chunks of vomit.
Natasha held her breath and continued patting him on the back.
He slowly straightened his back and felt his shirt at his side. Bruce reached for it and used it as a makeshift towel. "Sorry," he breathed, his gaze fixed on Natasha's legs.
Natasha rose to her feet and helped him stand up. "It happens," she said with a smile.
"You don't have to be nice about it." His throat felt raw as they approached their ride home.
Natasha allowed him in first, cautious of his trembling form.
Tony offered Bruce a bottle of water once he was seated. Bruce accepted the drink with a small smile and set it aside so he could slip into his shirt and grab his glasses.
"Feeling better?" Natasha wondered when he took a sear across from her.
Bruce swigged down half of the bottled water before responding. The taste of iron and acid was still strong in his mouth. "I've had better days," he meekly replied.
Tony set his ride into autopilot so he could join the chat with his friends. "Never offering you a hand again," he remarked, forcing Natasha to throw him a dirty look.
Bruce's brows furrowed in confusion.
Tony left his seat and quickly returned with what remained of a right hand.
Bruce's stomach churned as he noticed the distinct teeth indentations along the once sleek metal's surface. "I ate it…" His eyes quickly found Tony's own right hand and he took a deep breath of relief when he saw that his friend was unharmed. "God, we can't do this anymore…"
"Big guy's gotta eat," Tony shrugged. "No hard feelings."
"That could've been your hand, Tony…" Bruce leaned forward in his seat, unsure if he would make the ride home without puking.
The Hulk had been putting Bruce through a streak of 'off days,' but Natasha knew that her casually saying that aloud would only upset Bruce further. "You're not trusting yourself…" She felt a set of eyes on her and turned to her left to find Tony staring. "This could relate to what happened last time... You don't trust yourself around Stark anymore. You need to."
"If Romanoff's correct, that means Hulk's feeding off your subconscious. He knows something's got you pissed, and it's eating away at him, too."
"Excuse me for feeling guilty over attacking you," Bruce muttered, his head so low that he was nearly cradling it in his lap.
"We can kiss and make up," Tony offered. "C'mon, I'm not mad."
Bruce's fingers pulled at his messy curls. "It's me, Tony. This has nothing to do with you."
Tony raised a brow. Everything was supposed to be about him.
"You've gotta let go of this guilt, Bruce," Natasha interrupted. "It's killing you."
Bruce sat up in his seat and watched Natasha in silence. "I'm sorry," he began. Between feeling ready to vomit again and struggling to keep his eyes open, Bruce wasn't in the mood to argue with her. All he wanted was a long nap, then food if his stomach would allow it.
Natasha shook her head and smiled. "Get some rest, big guy."
He didn't need to be told twice. The second his eyes fell shut, he was fast asleep.
Tony observed his sleeping friend in quiet. Once he heard Bruce's gentle snores, he reached for a flask in his back pocket. "I'd hate to see him if you were on the receiving end of this."
Natasha hummed, eyes fixed on Bruce's face. One never would have guessed that the man sleeping before her could become the epitome of boiling rage. "He almost killed me, you know," she mused. "On the helicarrier." Tony was quiet. "I got out with a sprained ankle. Kinda thought it was the end for me, but only for a moment…" she paused. "I never told him. He'd never go near me again if he knew I had seen my life flash before me. " Natasha recalled the moment Bruce's innocent eyes darkened into those of the Hulk's. In that moment, he terrified her. She had no control over him-the beast was an unpredictable force of nature, and she was his doomed prey.
"Hurting you-That'll do it for him," Tony remarked under his breath.
"Is it that obvious that he's crazy about me?"
Tony slumped back in his seat and uncapped the flask. "Little bit."
"Does he ever mention Betty?" she wondered, keeping her voice low just in case the doctor was feigning sleep on them.
"Not in a while." Tony took a swig of his liquor. "Kinda nice. I didn't think he'd ever get over her."
Natasha turned to the inventor. "He worries about you, you know," she noted. "You holding up okay, Stark?"
He knocked his head back and let a mouthful of liquid burn his throat. "Never better."
Tony helped Bruce up to his floor, but Bruce insisted that Tony needn't drag him off to bed.
"You sure?" the inventor offered, warily noticing his friend's pale complexion. "You're looking a little green in the pukey way."
Bruce uneasily nodded as he opened the front door. "I'll be fine. Just need to lie down," he assured.
Tony gave him a gentle pat on the shoulder. "Let Jarvie know if you need anything."
Bruce nodded a second time. As much as he appreciated Tony's kindness the acid forcing its way up his throat forced him to quickly disappear into his home. He quietly shut the door and held his breath until he could hear Tony's footsteps leaving. Bruce clapped a hand over his mouth as he charged straight for the kitchen sink. He hung his head over the drain while the water began to run. His sides ached and his throat burned as he began to retch. Bruce's eyes remained tightly shut through the ordeal until he heard bits of metal clinking against his sink's stainless steel interior. He had coughed up several tiny screws and some bolts in addition to the bits of red iron he spotted in his bile. Bruce waited for the water to rinse the vulgar pinkish orange mess away before lifting up a screw to examine. In retrospect, the Hulk had gotten ahold of worse: guns, glass, bullets… He tossed the screw back into the sink and splashed some water over his clammy face.
Natasha had never minded the dark. Being alone in the shadows was peaceful. It allowed her time to think and reflect on her troubles, even if she didn't know where she was.
A footstep to her right forced her head to jerk in the direction of the sound. The Widow could handle darkness, but the second she knew she wasn't alone forced her guard to raise.
"Natasha." Bruce emerged from the shadows with a calm smile.
She offered him her hand and he accepted the gesture. "Didn't think you'd come around."
Bruce was quiet as his fingers wrapped around hers.
"Everything okay?" She noticed his smile fall. "Bruce." Natasha felt his grip tighten and she lowered her gaze.
"No more apologies, Natasha," he stated.
She didn't like the heaviness in his tone-it didn't suit Bruce at all.
"You should've ran away…"
His hand began squeezing hers until she heard a crack. Terror filled her eyes as Bruce's hand tripled in size. Natasha's head snapped up to find that Bruce was gone, and in his place, a smirking Hulk with blood red eyes. The Hulk's fingers formed a tight fist around Natasha's hand and a gruesome snap followed that jerked her awake.
She lay in bed with the side of her face buried in her pillow. With quickened breaths, Natasha sat up in her darkened bedroom. She found herself carefully examining the hand crushed by the Hulk's death grip while her mind repeatedly warned her it was only a nightmare.
She knew Bruce wouldn't hurt her.
The other guy was an entirely different story...
Natasha reached for her phone and before checking the time, she noticed a message. She didn't need to read the sender's name to know who it was from.
"Thank you for coming today. I'm feeling much better."
Thoughts of the Hulk from her nightmare were flushed away as she re-read Bruce's text. She had no reason to fear the other guy, not if she put her trust in Bruce. "Sleep well, Doc," she replied. The thought of trust lingered on her brain as she attempted to relax in bed. Bruce needed more faith in himself. His living in fear of his other half was only going to destroy him.
Or quite possibly, her.