Watching a sleeping Hulk was an interesting thing, Peter mused. It was the only time that Peter could ever remember seeing the Hulk completely at peace. His face was smoothed out and relaxed, and Peter could now see the resemblance between the Hulk and Bruce. Yeah, they were the same person, but it was hard to remember that when Bruce was always zen, and the Hulk was a roiling ball of rage and grammatical errors. But here, as the creature/friend dozed in an abandoned and destroyed hollow that had once been someone's bedroom, Peter could see that they shared similar features. The Hulk's lips curved like Bruce's when he smiled, and his hair tufted over the Hulk's forehead like Bruce's did when he ruffled it after a tiring day.

Peter mused that it was nice that there were still some things about his friend that stayed the same even when he was a giant green rage machine.

The Hulk hadn't been asleep long. After he had bridal-style carried Peter back to this weird bricky-and-wrecked-bed nest, and Peter had been able to hold the Hulk still long enough for him to pull the arrow from his back (easier than pulling out a splinter, the Hulk hadn't even seemed to notice it), the Hulk had apparently thought that this ruined ex-apartment meant sleepy time, and he cuddled into the rocks and had fallen asleep immediately.

Peter's first thought was that he should escape immediately now that his captor was no longer conscious. Not that the Hulk had been mean to him or anything. In fact, Hulk had pretty much been a gracious host, or as much of a host as he could be when he didn't actually own the apartment, and couldn't really say complete sentences. But Peter really just wanted to go back to his home after the day he'd had and cuddle with his fiancé.

But then he'd seen the hulk relaxed and had started to think that it might not only be a social faux pas to run out on his host while he slept, but it would be a bummer for the Hulk to wake up alone, and Peter didn't think that would be nice.

And then the Hulk had started to shrink back down into little Bruce Banner, skin paling to a more normal flesh tone, and Peter couldn't leave then! Leaving a naked Bruce in an unfamiliar place, well that would be just odious of him! (Wasn't that also a fun word? Peter had been digging through the dictionary looking for fun words to use in amusing situations. So far nothing had really come of it, but he could hope).

Bruce, as Bruce now and not the Hulk, shifted on the uncomfortable nest of brick fragments, dirt, and the splintery ends of what had once been a nice-looking bed, and opened his eyes. He glanced around the room first, and then his eyes landed on Peter. Peter waved his fingers lazily in the air. Bruce glanced down at his naked body (a sight Peter was steadfastly ignoring) and then back at Peter. In a voice much calmer than Peter might have expected, Bruce said, "Excuse me, but may I ask why I'm in a destroyed house with you watching over me?"

Peter blinked and then gestured towards Bruce's clothesless skin. "You're not worried about the completely naked thing? 'Cause let me tell you, that threw me for a loop."

"Not really. I usually wake up like this after the Hulk makes an appearance. In fact, on more than one occasion I've also woken up in a destroyed and/or abandoned building before. But, as far as I can remember I've never woken up next to a Spiderman."

"Huh," Peter said, "well, I don't know what this experience has been like for you, but I'm having a grand ol' time. Next time you're going to wake up in rubble alone, and naked, hit me up. Maybe we can do this again."

"Now you're just being ridiculous. Care to explain?" Bruce raised his eyebrow condescendingly, and Peter was impressed to note that despite the fact that Bruce was completely naked and lying unmoved in rubble he still managed to look intimidating.

"You mean why am I sitting above a naked Bruce Banner when I could be doing other things with my life? More specifically, bathing and sleeping?" Bruce gave him an unimpressed look and Peter rolled his eyes. "Fine! Be a stick in the mud. I think it's funny. But, to answer your question, you kidnapped and carried me here before you passed out."

Bruce jerked into a sitting position. "What? I kidnapped you?"

Peter chuckled at Bruce's wide-eyed expression. "No. I'm sorry. I was over-exaggerating for dramatic effect. Ummm, how to explain…" He subconsciously stroked his cheek where the bruise from Thor's backhand still ached, "Me and your friends, you know, the colorful ones, had a slight disagreement, and when I ran off to sleep off the annoyance and anxiety that has been growing on me like mold, I was sidetracked by you, the Hulk, grabbing me up and running off with me."

Bruce blinked rapidly. "Spiderman, that constitutes as kidnapping."

Peter waved away Bruce's concern with his hand. "I mean, technically, I guess. And yeah, I wouldn't have chosen to go to an abandoned and destroyed apartment to chill with a guy who can't form full sentences, but he's pretty nice, so I wasn't too worried."

Bruce's eyes widened. "What? The Hulk? Nice? No…"

Peter snapped his fingers and pointed at Bruce excitedly. "Yeah! That's how he talks. All the time. It's actually pretty amusing. And yeah, he's pretty nice. He defended me against Natasha once," mental smack to the head. Thankfully, Bruce looked preoccupied enough to not notice Peter's slip with Nat's name, "and is the only Avenger to seem completely cool with me. Freaked the Black Widow out!" Peter grinned beneath his mask. "I wish I'd had my camera. That picture would have been priceless. Seriously, I could have retired on the money I'd be able to make from selling just that photo alone. And it would have been glorious blackmail material, if I were to ever need such a thing." Peter sighed melodramatically. "Unfortunately, that ship has sailed."

"Woah! Back up! The Hulk is nice to you? That… thing?"

Peter frowned. "No need to be mean about it. He's a pretty chill guy."

"The Hulk?!" Bruce's voice had taken on a particularly strangled tone and he tried backing away from Peter, though he didn't get very far what with the being naked lying on debris thing.

Peter got to his feet and moved over toward what he assumed was the closet. "Yeah. He's nice. I haven't had too many interactions with the guy, but he was kind. Got all upset when the others were insulting me. He even protected me from a certain flying projectile that might have ended my life." Peter shrugged and pulled open closet door, dislodging a pile of crumbling drywall that tumbled across the floor. He began rifling through the closet. "By the way, it hit you—the Hulk—in the shoulder. I pulled it out, but I'm not sure what your healing capabilities are, if they're better because you turn green sometimes or what. I would have bandaged it up, but it wasn't like I could just pop down to the drug store get some band-aids. And this place isn't exactly the most hygienic anyway." Peter shrugged and pulled out a pair of slacks which he held up before throwing off to the side.

"What?" Bruce asked and reached his hand over his shoulder to feel at his back. "Wound's gone, so no worries about patching me up."

"Really?" Peter asked, intrigued. "How does that work? Any injury sustained by big green goes away when you turn back into Dr. Banner? Does it come back when you Hulk smash again?" Peter pulled out a pair of jeans, held them up, nodded to himself, and threw them over his arm before diving back into the closet. "Or is it just the radiation thing sped up your healing?"

Bruce shook his head. "Hulk's got tough skin."

Peter threw a green button up over his arm and started making his way back to the good doctor. "I saw him bleeding, Doc. Bleeding actual blood. And let me tell you. Scarlet blood on green skin is not nearly as festive as I might have imagined." Upon reaching Bruce, Peter dropped the gathered clothing in his lap unceremoniously. "There you go. Clothes that I hope will fit."

Bruce blinked and held up the shirt. "Thanks? I'm not sure how I feel about stealing someone's clothes though."

Peter snorted. "Please, Dr. Banner. They won't be missing them any time soon, and I'm sure their insurance will cover whatever can't be recovered. I wasn't just digging for clothes that would fit, you know. I had to find stuff that wasn't unwearable. They'll just assume these were destroyed as well."

"You seem to know a lot about the consequences of such destruction. You do a lot of research about the victims of these attacks?"

Peter snorted and turned around so Bruce could change without being embarrassed. "Yeah, research. Or, you know, I do actually live in this city. It's not like I'm completely ignorant to the plight of my fellow New Yorkers. And the taxes—" he groaned and dropped his head into his hands, "I can just imagine the jump now that this area needs to be rebuilt."

A laugh escaped Bruce but he quickly cut it off. It was enough, though, Peter had caught the amusement.

"I'm serious. After every attack the taxes just go up and up. I'm not exactly rich, you know? I can't afford all this. My—ah, my friend thinks that super heroes should be exempt from taxes because we save the city-slash-world. Or, no wait, he might actually have said that we should get free water and electricity…and housing. Don't quote me on any of this. He only said it in passing, like, months ago."

"Really?" Bruce asked, and Peter could note the laughter in his voice. "You can turn around."

Peter turned to see that for the most part the clothes fit Bruce, though the jeans had to be rolled up and the button-up hung too low. Better too big than too small, though.

"I've often thought," Peter confessed, "that I don't know how anyone other than Tony Stark can even afford to live in this city. Honestly, how does anyone do it?"

Bruce gave Peter a little half-smile. "Well, most people have jobs. Jobs give them money, they use that money to pay for things."

Peter scoffed. "I have a job. A real one. All I'm saying, is that while I'm off living in my one-bed, one-bath apartment, working all day and spending my free time fighting strange robots and lizard-people, I don't have a lot of extra cash to spend on me. And I'm doing pretty well. What about those other people who aren't doing so well, huh?"

Bruce shook his head. "I don't know, but I'm afraid that I really should be getting back, and not debating the price of living in Manhatten with a superhero that we aren't really on speaking terms with."

Peter clutched at his chest dramatically. "Ouch!" Then he relaxed his stance. "I know I don't really deserve fluffy kindness, but I'm not all bad. Really. And Hulk seems to like me ok." Peter shrugged.

Bruce seemed torn. Peter wasn't really worried. As long as Bruce stayed Peter's friend, he didn't need to be Spiderman's.

"Well," Peter said after a moment of no one saying anything, "I should be heading back myself. Want a ride?"

Bruce raised his eyebrows, and Peter could detect a slight hint of a smile before it was hidden. "No thank you."

Peter shrugged. "Suit yourself." He began making his way through the unsteady rubble and towards the giant hole in one of the walls that had allowed the Hulk to enter. He looked over the edge, and made some room when Bruce came to stand beside him. They were at least five storeys up. Maybe more.

Bruce gulped. "I'll just take the front door."

Peter shook his head. "Blocked." Bruce scratched the back of his neck. Peter opened his arms. "Come on, haven't you ever wanted to swing through the city like Spiderman? I know I have." Bruce didn't look impressed. "At least let me bring you to the ground safely, yeah? I wouldn't want a nice guy like Bruce Banner getting hurt because I left him five floors up with no way of getting down."

Bruce rolled his eyes. "Fine." There was a pause. "Now, how do we do this?"

Peter smirked beneath his mask, but Bruce still seemed to sense it, as he took a step back. "Just wrap your arms around my neck and hold on."

Bruce raised another unimpressed eyebrow, but this time Peter merely raised his hands above his head. "I swear, I'm being serious. I need both use of my hands for the swinging. Don't worry, I've done this before. I won't drop you."

Bruce didn't seem completely convinced, but he also seemed to accept that he really didn't have a choice. He stepped up to Peter and wrapped his arms around Peter's neck while simultaneously trying to stay as far from him as possible.

Peter rolled his eyes. "You actually have to hold on." He pulled Bruce closer and forced his arms to wrap tighter around the back of his neck. "There you go, now don't let go."

Bruce looked extremely uncomfortable, but it only made Peter grin. He wrapped one arm around Bruce's back and the other he shot out, shooting a web at the building across the street. Peter was not ashamed to say that he most definitely laughed when Bruce's surprised shriek reached his ears.