Chapter 5: Vacation Is Not All I Ever Wanted

Alright.

I was all moved into my new room. It had a real bed, normal walls, and a large window that looked out on a tropical island paradise:

Beautiful, calm, relaxing, and isolated as hell.

I sighed.

I had wanted a vacation. I had needed one.

And don't get me wrong. I loved my day job…most of the time…well, enough of the time, but everyone needs time-off occasionally, right?

I'd just wanted to break loose from it all, feel the wind in my hair, enjoy the fact I was alive and young, and be free.

But this…

This was the exact opposite of that.

One…two…okay maybe three rash decisions and I had permanently changed my entire life. I was a lawyer. I knew how quickly a life could be ruined on an intellectual level, but again this was something else.

This was a goddamn nightmare.

"Jen?"

I turned. Bruce was in the doorway. Or rather, he stood just outside of it and was leaning on the frame with his arm up. I was used to tall guys making that manspreading pose, but Bruce had my genes, down to our rare and now irradiated blood type. He was way too short to pull off that stance and it made the awkward nerd look even more awkward and nerdy than usual. His words were a similar disaster. "Hey so…uh…you…up for dinner?"

"Sure," I said, following him out and down to the main level which was two steps from being a full-on tiki bar, but Bruce broke the luau vibe by going behind the counter and placing what must be our dinner on the bar top. The large flat cardboard box could only mean one thing:

"Pizza?"

"From New York," he said, pushing the box towards me.

I eyed him. "Seriously?"

"It's not an antidote, but it can't hurt. I uh…called in a favor," he said.

"A favor," I repeated, reaching for what promised to be good pizza, an impossibility in Cali. I loved LA, but a visit to NYC ten years ago ruined California's pizza forever in my eyes. I didn't care that this probably was from the man who had both saved and destroyed my life. All I cared about was getting a piece of this Americanized heaven. I opened the box, grabbed a slice, and bit into the gooey, cheesy, perfectly sauced flatbread.

YASS! I was four bites in before the tears began.

"Jen…" Bruce said as I rubbed at my eyes.

I wasn't having another mental breakdown.

Not yet.

"This is damn good pizza!" I exclaimed. "Definitely the best apology bribe ever."

Bruce gave me an uncertain look. "Well, at least your sense of humor is still intact. That's a good thing to have."

I shot him a pizza-stuffed smile and swallowed before joking, "You got the brains, while I got the charm, looks, and the brains. That's why they pay me the big lawyer bucks."

I wish…

But it did the trick.

"Cocky upstart," Bruce said fondly before getting a slice of his own.

"I invented the term," I quipped and for a while, we left it at that and ate pizza which was slightly saltier than it should have been.

After his second slice, Bruce got out some beer mugs and went over to the tap.

"Is that a good idea?" I asked.

"You an angry drunk?" he replied.

I shook my head and he poured me a glass like this was an actual bar.

The beer certainly tasted like it was bar quality. Fresh-from-the-tap froth had been a guilty pleasure of mine since college and this beer's crisp bitter flavor paired really well with the pizza. "Where's this from?" I asked.

"Oregon," Bruce said, taking a swig from his own mug. He licked his lips and sat back down next to me. "Good?"

I took another swig myself and confirmed, "Very! But it doesn't beat the pizza." I'm not sure anything would.

"I'm glad I led with that then."

There was a beat of silence.

It should be no secret by now that Bruce and I had similar tastes in comfort food. Even under these circumstances, I was totally capable of chatting with my cousin and eating quality goods like this for hours, but I knew he and I should wade into deeper conversational depths sometime soon. I also knew I really didn't want to.

Eventually, Bruce broke my mental stalemate. Staring at his now half-full beer, he attempted to start a new topic, "So…um…uh…well…I guess…"

The poor man was drowning. I did my best to help. "It's alright, Bruce. You don't need to invent another way to apologize. I already forgave you, remember?" I had told him so four times already. "And even if I hadn't, this pizza and beer would be more than enough to win me over," I said, managing a small but genuine smile.

Bruce closed his mouth. It seemed apologizing was all he had wanted to do right now. It was what he'd been doing all day. I had needed to hear it at first, but reason had come back to me at some point and now, I knew his constant apologies were more about him than me.

And it really wasn't working for either of us. This wasn't even his fault. That drive-by had brought his other side out, catching the attention of the frightened townsfolk and…say it with me:

Tony Stark.

Apparently, Bruce wore a special friendship bracelet that let Tony know his location whenever he transformed. It 'helped' that Tony had already been looking for Bruce. The two of them were supposed to have drinks together last night, but Tony had been running late because who gives a damn.

After he and…I guess I shouldn't avoid saying it anymore…the Hulk had worked together to 'save the day', they took me here to Bruce's hideaway science hut. At which point, Tony had pretended to be Dr. Frankenstein and asked Hulk for his blood to bring me back from the dead. Thanks to the Hulk's healing factor, I was alive once more, but you can't get something for nothing.

Now, even though neither of us had been active participants in my revival, Bruce and I, being sensible people who realized that turning into an uncontrollable green monster whenever upset really limited one's prospects, were the only ones left to lament what happened. For Bruce that meant turning into a man-sized lump of regret who apologized with every other breath. As for me…

I just felt sorry for myself.

I hated feeling sorry for myself. It wasn't like me to mope. That had always been Bruce's thing. I was more of a 'never give up because the only thing worse than failing is losing' type of person, but for once, I could say they felt like the same thing. Law school hadn't prepared me to tackle this sort of problem and if big-brained Bruce and his mad scientist friends couldn't figure it out, what hope did I have in solving one of the most dangerous and strange diseases known to modern man?

Don't answer that. I already know the answer.

No amount of apologies, no matter how delicious, would change how fucked I was, so I did what people do when faced with a problem they have no idea how to solve:

I indulged in a huge hopeless sigh and more booze.

Meanwhile, Bruce began again, "Jen, I am so…"

I held up a finger and took my last swig of beer to wash away the pain. Then I slammed the mug down with a bit more force than I meant to, looked my cousin in the eye, and declared, "I meant what I said before. No more apologies, Bruce. We're done with that."

He still looked like he wanted to try.

So, I attempted to give him my best 'believe me, valued client, I'm a confident, capable, and compassionate professional' smile and proclaimed, "We're good. I'm good."

Bruce nodded, not believing a word I said.

I didn't believe me either, but it didn't matter. I had to pull myself together.

Bruce needed my help.

I needed my help!

I was Jennifer Walters, Attorney at Law. I ate unwinnable cases for breakfast and currently had an endless supply of liquid courage at my fingertips. So what if I was fucked? Brooding over the impossible was just not my style!

I stood up, ignored the sound of my bar stool clattering to the floor, and announced, "We are going to figure this out! Alright, Bruce? You, me, and all your mad scientist buddies are going to get it done and solve…what?"

Bruce looked like he'd seen a ghost. His eyes were huge. His skin had gone pale and he also seemed smaller somehow?

"What?" I repeated, looking down at him which was something I hadn't been able to do since we were kids.

"You should sit back down," Bruce said softly. "And take some deep breaths."

"Why?" I asked, sitting on a different bar stool. Had Bruce not liked my little speech? Maybe the beer was stronger than I thought and I was tipsy again. I could workshop my wording later. It was the gist of it that mattered.

"Deep breaths first," he suggested.

"Only if you do them with me," I countered. He looked like he needed them a lot more than I did.

Together we took some deep breaths and Bruce and the rest of the bar got taller again.

"How did you do that?" I asked, squinting at him.

"I didn't. You did," he said, holding his watch up to his face. "I'll tell Tony that he can turn around."

I frowned. I thought he was pissed at Tony. Why would…

Oh.

OH!

"Wait? Really!" I cried. Too late, I looked down at my arms. They were distinctly not green.

"Really," Bruce confirmed. "This is only the second time I've seen it from the outside. It's…different."

"It didn't seem that different to me," I admitted. "Besides being taller." I kind of missed being taller. "Is it always like that? I don't remember being angry or anything."

Bruce just said, "We should call it a night."

"But—"

"Jen, please!" he cut in sharply, "let's just finish the pizza and call it a night. We can pick this up in the morning, alright?"

It wasn't like Bruce to raise his voice. For any reason. And we both knew it.

I narrowed my eyes at my cousin and said, "Fine, but I expect to have a proper talk about this over waffles or Corn Pops tomorrow."

Bruce didn't smile. He agreed to my terms with that detached scientist look back on his face.

I switched to milk and we ate pizza in an awkward silence. The second I was done with my last slice, I got up and said, "Night, Bruce." I gave him a hug that he didn't return and left.

Bruce watched me climb up the stairs without another word.

I hurried to my room and closed the door behind me.

I didn't know what to make of all this, but as my body got ready for bed, my brain tried to piece things together anyway. I just kept getting stuck on how anticlimactic the transformation had been.

There had barely been a difference.

No rage.

No pain.

No sudden desire to smash.

Nothing.

And the only triggers I could identify were alcohol and me getting a bit worked up about perseverance and stuff. Bruce also seemed stumped. I'd bet money he was going back to his basement lab tonight to run tests, swirl his beakers, and do whatever else he did down there.

I hoped all of Bruce's science-ing got him some answers because that was not what I thought being a Hulk would be like at all. I never thought being a Hulk would feel…

Right.

Also, I still kind of missed being taller.

Note: And so, we have reached the end of Annbell's 'pilot'. Can you see why I've been so irritated!? There's so much left to know!

How do my powers work? What is Bruce plotting? Are drive-bys just a thing that happens sometimes in this part of Mexico or is there a big conspiracy involving that rude bartender, Alejandro, and those blue-collar workers who left the diner suspiciously quickly? When am I going to meet Tony Stark to give him a piece of my mind? How does Nikki feel about green? Am I ever going back to work? And are Bruce and I going to have waffles or Corn Pops for breakfast?

ARGH!

This pocket dimension is closed so I have no more answers for you and Annbell refuses to tell me anything. Every time I ask she just gives me this secretive smug smile and starts spouting free-will arguments, but that's a load of BS because Annbell did deign to inform me that she is willing to talk to you guys, 'her readers', about such things. I think, excluding Annbell, we can all agree you are my readers. So readers, if you have questions or other feedback, and for my sake please at least have questions, Annbell is willing to answer your reviews personally and she can't stop me from peeking.

It hasn't exactly been a joy to hang out with you, given the whole dying thing, but thanks for sticking with me. I hope your week is going better than mine has. I'm told that this chapter will be published on October 30th, so:

Happy Halloween tomorrow!

Enjoy the holiday and your life!

Yours Temporarily,

Jennifer Walters

Attorney At Law