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Chapter Text

Four years went by fast, 5 rather. One year ago they were married. At that time, Rebecca was all to happy to have finally met someone who understood her, and vowed to care and love her forever.

Brian never expected to fall in love in college. She was perfect, with her soft brown curls down to the shoulders, and bright hazel stare. Her smile was what he loved most, and her ability to remain positive even during the most difficult circumstances.

She had admired his many talents, gaining a PhD in physics, being the youngest to graduate in his class. His future options were unlimited. Brian could've settled anywhere and found respectable work, however, the twosome settled on going to Los Alamos, as he was able to find work on a government project to find a source for clean nuclear radiation. His smarts were unmatched...more so his demeanor. He was kind, though slightly stand-offish at times.

Together, they were happy. She laugh, he'd smile, hold her close while she either sang or hum a soft tune with her gentle voice.

But like every family, there were secrets...some of which Brian Banner vowed to never disclose with anyone, not even his wife.

And like every couple, there are dreams. Future adventures some wish to embark on before the other is ready. Rebecca had no shame in sharing her excitement for raising a family...however, Brian's response, or lack of, demonstrated his internal desire never to have a child, for he had vowed within his heart, 'Never to bring another Banner into the world.'

Sure, they were happy for the past 5 years...but work got stressful, more demanding.

Rebecca would stay up well past midnight before her love would enter the house after a long day. Later and later, he'd come home, looking more and more torn apart and drunk.

She'd assure him of her support, but that went unheard. In an alcoholic fit, he'd puncture wholes in the walls, become irate with his co-workers, even more quick to anger with his one true love.

It was shocking that first time he struck her, both tired and exhausted. He marched in at 2 am, and like always, she had waited up for him.

"How was work honey? Are you alright?"

He mumbled, growling angrily as he walked away from her without a word. She followed him, hesitant that he may yell at any given moment. This was life...especially when she could smell liquor on him. He headed straight for the cabinet, pouring himself another glass. She whispered again from a distance;

"Honey? Are you alright?"

With those soft-spoken words, he lashed at her, calling her a few vile things before throwing the bottle in her direction. Trembling in the corner and hidden from his view was always when he yelled for her.

It was hopeless, this was life. All her dreams had been taken from her, any hope of being loved and tenderly cared for had vanished. She only wished he would stop and think for while. She often wondered if he even cared for her anymore.

His apology was weak that morning, stuck in bed with a hangover. She refused to leave his side no matter how irate he had been. Despite her urging for him to stay home, he stated that he "had to work," and that the "project was due that morning."

She just nodded, tears in her eyes. He was so focused on his work, they barely talk anymore.

Despite being lost in a haze, he kissed her forehead gently before leaving the home. Rebecca clutched her heart as he drove away leaving her to wonder about his sanity, his well-being, and their future.

He should've listened to her, he should've stayed at home under her tender and loving arms. It had been a mistake to go ahead with this project, not being sound in mind;

"Alright Banner, what is this?" The boss was furious, seeing the disaster made from a careless mistake.

He fumbled for words, "Sir, please, it was an overload of equipment, it was just a mistake."

"We don't have time for mistakes Banner!,' he breathed heavily, 'how do you feel?"

He looked into his palms, the overload of nurses and doctor's had checked him to insure he was safe. Brian felt radiation within himself. He stressed over the fact that he had been sure to hide behind a shield when it blew. It had to have altered his genetic structure, even the slightest...he could feel it despite multiple physicians claiming to have found not a single thread of the chemical.

Brian was court-martialed and released from off the project.

How could he tell Rebecca?  She had been right, she was always right. He should've never left the home in that state. On that drive home he vowed even stronger within his heart never to have a child.

But Brian was too intelligent not to be able to find work, and he did. In Ohio with the full support of his one true love. The money was good, the home was clean, and the bond between the couple was improving due to his limiting alcoholic intake. He finally believed that he had accomplished something good. And Rebecca had learned to love him even more for his ambitious spirit and will to continue despite all they had been through.

Chapter Text

On that warm summer night, she was all to happy to see him pull up the driveway. She dashed for the door, smile on her delicate face as she opened it for him.

"I'm home Rebecca." He returned her smile and kissed her gently.

She was anxious to have him sit at the table, tell her about work, so she could share the news with him.

"Oh, well. The usual. Not fantastic, they just asked me to preform a new project, but this one is going to be good, and there's a heavy check involved. So, Becky. I was thinking, maybe, you and I, we, could go away? Take a nice trip."

She smiled, he wasn't talking fast enough for her. Becky, her sweet nickname that he gave her in college. She smiled, not having heard him call her that in years. Her heart was beating quickly, as she holds her lower stomach, "Honey, that would be wonderful. Or we could use the money to, um, maybe, build a bedroom?"

He raised an eyebrow curiously, "For when my sister visits? Or when your relatives come over?"

She pulled down at her summer skirt anxiously, "Well, usually we go there to visit them, but I was thinking -"

He cut her off with a smile, "Your so cute Becky. Why are you blushing?"

Her angelic voice expressed slight embarrassment, ankles crossed underneath their table, "Oh, darling. Actually, we could-"

"Rebecca, I'm not taking no for an answer. We're going away, on a nice trip to Florida, we're getting out of here, just for a week. Besides, it's our anniversary. And you deserve something nice."

She couldn't hold it in any longer, "Oh Brian, we will have something nice. Something money can't buy."

"We can go to Mexico if you prefer. France?"

"Brian."

He picks up on her tension, eyebrows lowering, smile slipping with a hint of nervousness;

"What is it? What's wrong?"

She circles her finger over the table glancing up at him with those sweet brown eyes;

"I- I'm pregnant, Brian."

He pauses, frozen and though he expresses no emotion. She must be joking. This has to be some sort of nightmare. His stare has a hold on her, making her even more uncomfortable then she already is. Rebecca tugs at her hair, eyes shifting between her husband and the floor;

"I- I got really sick this morning, and I felt dizzy all day...so- I called the doctor, but I fainted so Marilyn, our neighbor came over and, let him in and he said that- oh Brian!"

Her palm over her heart, she's over-joyed. There's a glow in her eyes he doesn't seem to care about, a radiant nature about her cheeks he seems to ignore.

His stare only goes deeper and more intense, his voice is below a whisper, "You can't be! That's impossible!"

"Oh, darling aren't you happy? I couldn't wait to tell you."

He remains at the table, shocked at her news. He tosses his utensils, onto the table and swiftly heads up the stairs. His feelings are unknown to her, though she can only assume the worst. She is at a loss for words as she sits at the table, unsure of how he really feels.

Again, she's alone. She stands and heads up the stairs, they feel like mountains as she holds onto the hand-rail, taking one slow step at a time. Surely he must've just had a bad day at work. Her eyes close, taking in a deep breath before she proceded for their bedroom.

He sits on the edge of their bed, blank, unreadable stare over his face. She carefully sits beside him, head lowered without saying a word for the rest of the night.

Chapter Text

Month 1

Brian had started drinking once more, within that first month on the pregnancy that had been so rough on Rebecca;

He had come home, arrogant and boastful to find her in the bed, with nothing done.

"Rebecca! You've been sleeping all day?"

She slowly opens her eyes, her voice is groggy as she explains her dilemma;

"Honey, I don't feel right."

He debates yelling at her to make his dinner, iron his clothes, but he stopped. She did look ill. There was no luster in her stare, not color in her cheeks, and no red on her lips. And since when? Since that damn baby came into the picture! He couldn't help but remember that this was only month one.

Nine more of this?

He crosses his arms, blank expression over his features, "So call a doctor."

Rebecca closes her eyes once more, her voice was barely a whisper, "I'll be okay, I just need rest."

When she tries to move, she squeals in a bit of pain as her hand quickly covers over her belly. Brian pulls away from her as if she's carrying a disease, eyes wide and a bit disgusted.

He brushes his forehead before storming out of the bedroom, directly headed for the liquor cabinet. He pops the cork, spilling the bottle down his throat.

Pregnant! How can she be pregnant!

Hours pass, he sits at the table alone, leaving his wife 'abandoned' in bed. He yells up the stairs that he's leaving for the bar, without a caring tone in his voice.

Upon hearing his words, she covers her face with her hands. She knows he's heading down that same road that separated them last time and it hurts.

Month 2

Her dizziness is yet to subside. Doctor's pace in and out from the house on a daily basis, encouraging her to 'rest often'.

Brian catches the physician's arm as he's about to leave, "What's wrong with my wife?"

The short older fellow adjusts his glasses, "I don't know."

"What do you mean you don't know?"

"Nobody knows. This is nothing like I've ever seen."

It's a less then acceptable remark, Brian raises his voice, "What are you talking about?"

"She's sick. Sure, morning sickness is one thing, but she's in pain, she can hardly move, and she is almost too small. She complains of headaches, nausea, and she lays there and cries. She's already fainted twice, her hormones are beyond raging. She complains of soreness, and all of these things are beyond excessive. What concerns me the most is the bleeding and the fainting."

"WHY? Why is this happening?"

"I don't know."

"Well, you better find out, and you better find out quick!"

"Yes Mr. Banner, we're trying our best."

"You better try harder!"

“Yes Mr. Banner.”

“And you make a note of this; my wife takes priority! Even if you have to kill that thing inside of her!”

Brian enters the dining room, seeing Rebecca has fallen asleep at the table, the stove on, kettle about to whistle.

He yells throwing his fist into the table, "REBECCA!"

She is shaken from the first 'sleep' she's had all month, "Brian, I'm sorry!" She struggles to stand and runs to the oven, turning off everything.

His eyes widen, "You could have burnt the house down! Is that what you want?"

"No Brian! Please! I had not control over myself!"

"Really? Is that the best excuse you can come up with?"

"Brian please! Don't shout!"

"REBECCA!"

She covers her face as he throws his fist into the walls screaming at the top of his lungs.

Rebecca carries the heavy load of laundry, struggling up the stairs. She can feel the child fidgeting within her, just as uncomfortable as she is. Alone in the home, she speaks consolingly to her belly, "It's okay. I'm here, I'm not going to hurt you." Her eyes shut tight as she feels a headache returning. The limpness in her legs causes her elbows to give out.

She gasps quickly as she drops her heavy load. Clothes are everywhere as she clutches her very small belly, ready to vomit. Tears form in her eyes. She knows if the laundry isn't done, Brian will scream at her. If his dinner isn't set, he'll take off to the bar with his friends and drink himself to death. And if the home isn't clean, he'll take off to his sister's who will speak abusively, telling Rebecca she needs to take better care of Brian.

Tears stream down her face as she lays aching on the steps. She whispers;

Why?

It was the first time in a long while, she had woke up early enough to show Brian off to work. He opens the door as she slowly walks down the steps. His tone expressing no mercy;

"I want my suit cleaned before I get home, the carpets vacuumed and the floors scrubbed. And God help you if I catch you asleep!"

She nods holding back the tears. He rolls his eyes before his voice changes slightly, "And, call me."

She nods once more before he slams the door shut. Tears stream down her face as she collapses on the steps once more, alone and isolated. Or is she alone?

She looks downward at her belly, she can feel her baby moving more, slightly restless since her morning nausea. Her headache has already returned since the door slammed shut. She wraps her arms around her stomach as if to hold it closer. She knows that soon, she won't be so alone;

But is it self-fish? What will Brian do? Will he love the child as much as she already does?

Brian hasn't given her anything more then orders. He hasn't offered help, or assistance not even a comforting word. But she heard him on the phone the other day, talking with his sister;

"Rebecca has me worried, I just want her to be okay. I love her!"

It was the very early morning, and she was vomiting again. Brian covered his ears from inside the bedroom with his pillow, not even speaking a word to her. She was so involved with that little monster inside of her, he wished it would die. He would whisper to himself, even have dreams that she'd walk in and tell him that it died. He'd even go so far as to call the doctor, and ask;

"Is the baby dead?" And be thoroughly angry at hearing that it was very much alive.

Or scream until a doctor came outside the hostpiral to talk to him;

"We told you Dr. Banner, the birth of your child might be difficult because of the position of the baby in her womb."

"Why does my wife have to suffer!?"

"Dr. Banner please, try to be patient."

"The life of Rebecca is a hell of a lot more important that the baby! Rebecca takes priority! You understand?!"

"Yes Sir, you have mentioned that before."

She stood up that morning back in her home, looking in the mirror at her appearance, she felt horrible and heavy anxiety. There were bags under her eyes from a lack of sleep and a lack of color in her typical vibrant cheeks. She would close her eyes and whisper sweet nothings, reassuring her 'baby' that everything would be alright. Rebecca felt a pool of blood within her mouth, before spitting into the sink. She holds it tighter, fingers rubbing over herself. She felt dizzy at the moment, secretly wishing her husband would come and check on her.

Brian eventually stood outside as he pounding the door neither cross, nor kind;

"Get out Becky, I need to get ready for work."

Her body aches as she prepares for Brian to enter at any given moment. After thoroughly cleaning the home she's completely exhausted, but happy that the contractors have finally finished a small bedroom for the child. Her pace is slower then usual, though she struggles to keep up her work. She felt achy, writing up possible names that came to her mind in between trips to the bathroom to vomit what felt like everything she had ever eaten.

Brian's entry is abrupt, "I'm going out to the bar. Be back later."

Her tears, were uncontrollable. She reaches down back at her belly. Rebecca had already established a bond with her creation, talking to her baby as if it were sitting beside her.

The child would be there for her and she vowed never to let anything come between them.

From morning, until the afternoon, she cries as the pain from false contractions en-lope her body. The pain is intense, but quoting her doctor, she reminds herself;

"It's not real, don't panic, they are simply preparing your body for the real thing."

It hurts to walk and clean. She breaks every few minutes, feeling the agony in her gut.

How many more tests could she handle? How many more test could her child be forced to endure?

Her baby can't come fast enough. She longs to cuddle it, teach it, train it with all the love her mother gave to her. Her excitement and anticipation fades with thoughts of how Brian would treat it. She prayed his mind would change...eventually.

She fell onto the floor feeling faint. She screamed for help, though she's completely alone.

She can feel different things happening within her body. This is not what she was expecting or anything that the doctor had described. She knew her baby was uncomfortable from the way it moved inside of her. Something was definitely wrong. She reaches for the phone, dialing for Brian;

He answers harshly, before she continues, pausing in her statement;

"Brian, I'm sorry, I- OW- Brian- I can't breathe."

He drops his voice, "Don't move Rebecca. I'm coming home."

He dashes from the job, driving through every stop light on the highway. Although he wishes that child dead, he wants her to be alright.

He entered the home, his wife on the ground, eyes barely open. She panicked thinking he would kick her if she didn't stand up. Rebecca feels her eyes start to fill, tears slipping from the corners of her eyes.

Brian lowers down to her level, hand gently rested over her cheek; "Talk to me Becky. What's wrong?"

She continues to struggle, holding her belly, "Brian- I -." She screams feeling another contraction.

He runs to the phone calling the doctor in a panic, "Rebecca can't breathe!"

The doctor fumbles for words, "Bring her to the hospital, I'll be right there."

Brian panicked as he carefully places Rebecca into the car, driving miles over the speed limit to get her there.

Once she was admitted to a room, she fainted, leaving the doctors frantic for a solution. No matter how much Brian yelled and screamed, the doctor's remain quiet, unsure of how to answer him.

Chapter Text

Two days later, She can feel the contractions worsen, lasting longer each time. Nurses ran frantic trying to help her as best they can. Her pain is intense, but every few minutes she asks in a whisper, "Is my baby going to be alright?"

Brain raises his voice from the corner of the room, expressing pure frustration, "Relax Rebecca!"

The nurses reassure her that it's normal, though they themselves see the complications she's enduring and wonder if their statements are truthful. Finally the doctor tells her she's in labor. Moments before she screams in a bit of pain.

Brian dashes for the door and angrily slams it. The nurses tremble, confused by his nature.

Rebecca can feel a lump in her throat. She panics to think that he will never change his mind about their child.

. . . . . . . . .

Hours pass, the doctor's are still around her as her vision blurs. Contractions continue, this being the third day of a long and complicated labor. Chills and shakiness en-lope her body. She feels alone, hurt that Brian refuses to even walk in the room.

Her dilating is complete, the pain is unbearable, and her mind is racing. Her shrills are quiet, her gentle face expressing pure fragility. She throws her head back, her mouth open, and tears spilling down her cheek. Her sounds are soft, surprising to the nurses around her;

"Mrs. Banner, you need to breathe."

"Mrs. Banner, stay awake!"

She can't focus. In her mind, she's asking about her child. In reality, her words are soft noises that are barely audible. The pain intensifies as she screams; A sound that has rippled through the room and the hallway into the ears of an aggravated father.

"Mrs. Banner can you hear us?"

"Mrs. Banner!"

"Get her on oxygen and get the surgeon in her right now!"

"We're going to need to do a C-section. Her baby's practically clinging to her womb."

Rebecca's screams intensify, writhing on her table. She mumbles, constantly checking on her baby. A doctor lays a reassuring hand over her shoulder;

"It's going to be alright Mrs. Banner, just listen to us and do what we tell you."

. . . . . . . . . . . .

The team breathes a brief sigh of relief as does the new mother whose just woken up. She pounds her head against the pillow, in exasperation.

"Congratulations Mrs. Banner. It's a boy."

She shakes her head as she mumbles, "Is he okay? Is my baby okay?"

The nurse narrows her focus becoming concerned, "Mrs. Banner? Mrs. Banner are you alright?"

She reopens her eyes, "Yes, where's my baby?"

Her assistant brushes the curly lock from her forehead, "It's okay Mrs. Banner."

Rebecca repeats herself becoming nervous when she doesn't see him in the room with her;

"Where's my baby?"

"The doctor took him downstairs. Don't worry, it's just a precaution."

She struggles to sit up, still panicking, "Precaution? For what?"

"Just to make sure we don't find any trace radiation due to your husbands accident."

She feels a lump in her throat. After three days of labor, and a long day in surgery she still hasn't seen her child;

"I understand, but I want my baby. Please!"

"Please Mrs. Banner. You need to trust us. We'll bring him up as soon as possible."

Rebecca throws her hands over her face, emotionally imbalanced, still concerned with what Brian will say;

"I just want my baby! I want peace, I want a family, I want my husband, I want my son."

The tender nurse brushes her tears, "I'll go see where he's at."

Brian opens the door, seeing his wife in a state of complete grief. He feels slightly happier not seeing the child. Until that darn nurse returned, baby in her arms.

Rebecca's eyes light up as she cuddles her small son in her arms.

The nurse decides to wait outside for a while before taking the boy back for testing.

The new mom smiles, surprised at his small and fragile features;

"Look at him Brian, he's beautiful! Look at his dark curly locks! Oh! His eyes Brian, look their brown!"

He refuses to look up, even for a moment. In an aggravated tone he harshly asks, "What's his name."

She looks at her husband questioningly, then back at her son, "I like Robert."

She thinks for a moment, "Or Bruce?"

He pauses in shock. Of all the names to think of.

She misunderstands his silence, "Robert is a nice name."

He crosses his arms, still looking down at the floor, "He's yours."

"Robert Bruce Banner." She kisses his small head gently, making Brian immediatly envious of her complete admiration for this monster within her arms. He stands up, and abruptly slams the door, just as he did before. She jumps, causing the small child to pick up her fear. Tears pour from his small eyes shut closed, trembling in his mother's arms.

She carefully swaddles him tighter within her embrace, "Shh, it's okay baby. I've got you, don't cry. I'm here sweet-heart, nothing can hurt you."

She draws him even closer, his noises soften as he recognizes her calm and tender voice. His big eyes look up at her for comfort, and reassurance, frightened by the number of people who have already poked him and thrown him around for testing. She lifts her gentle forefinger below his eyes brushing away a tear. She hums a tune slowly and kindly, whispering into his ear;

"It will be alright, I will be here, don't you cry. Nothing's going to harm you, not while I'm around."

Chapter Text

Chapter 5

"Brian please!" She trembles, hair pulled back in a loose ponytail, as she cuddles her baby at the edge of the bed.

"From the day you brought him home, you haven't left him alone!"

"He's only 2 months old! I feel bad that he's only been home for a week, after all of the testing! One week Brian! And the doctor still wants him to go back! I can't do it Brian!"

"He's going back and that's that!' He grumbles throwing the pillow back over his head, 'Becky, I wish you'd put him down! It's going on 2:15!"

She closes her eyes, "He's finally asleep Brian, I don't want to startle him."

He growls, "Rebecca Banner! Don't make me put him to bed!"

She scowls at him, "Brian! You haven't even looked at him since he was born!"

"Put him down Rebecca."

"But if you would just-"

"Rebecca! If I have to ask again, it won't be pretty."

She hesitates, not wanting to comply. She knows she can only push her husband so far, before she's at a risk.

-He wouldn't even look at Robert!

Her baby picks up on her fear, moving slightly within her arms. She sighs compassionately when he starts to tremble, too scared to cling onto her.

After all, she might abandon him at that hospital again, which would only mean more poking and prodding.

She whispers as she slowly walks down the hall to his small room, "Shh, it's okay darling. Your home, your safe."

He settles down, hearing his mother's voice and feels her soft embrace. She smiles gently placing him in his crib, kissing his forehead; "Goodnight darling. I love you Bruce."

. . . . . . . . . . . .

Brian can hear he on the phone as he enters the home drained from work. He walks in ease dropping on her conversation. She's talking to Elaine, that's for sure. His other sister to whom he stays in limited contact with.

"Oh Elaine! You have to come over to visit! He's beautiful!-Oh yes!-hmm?-Oh, oh I see. Please give your husband our love.-You as well.-Goodbye."

She returns the phone to it's hanger smiling at Brian who remains emotionless. "That was your sister Brian."

"Yes I know." He parks himself at the edge of the table.

She twirls her hands over one another, "And, I called for a nurse."

His eyes light up, "Oh good. When can she start?"

She lowers her head, "Brian, I don't like the idea of someone else moving in, and watching over my child."

He struggles to hide his smile, "Nonsense Rebecca. How much do we owe her?"

"Nurse Meachum. I wrote everything up. But Brian, I-"

"Marvelous! Must be the best news I've heard all week. Rebecca, I'm going out with some friends from work. You can handle that can't you?"

She stutters, "But Brian, Elaine said that she-"

"Elaine is 20 miles away! Besides, when are you going to call Susan?"

Rebecca brushes her hair behind her ear, "She called me Brian. But I must admit that she wasn't very nice."

"Susan has a bad marriage. You be nice to my sisters!"

"Brian I am. I just find it easier to get along with Elaine-"

"And they're coming over for Christmas?"

She nods. She won't be able to get another word out, and she knows it.

He nods before marching back through the living room and to the door; "Oh, and Rebecca, tell Nurse...May-much-"

"Meachum?"

"Her, to keep that kid away when Susan gets here. She needs adult company not some 5 moth old child frolic."

Rebecca throws her hands on her hips once the door is shut, gasping in an outrage,- 'child frolic? How dare he!'

She spots her baby gazing about the room on his belly. She kneels down to his level, rolling onto her belly. She smiles, he smiles. She laughs, he laughs. Rebecca can't resist the urge to pick him up into her arms. She sits up and crosses her legs 'Indian style'. He reaches for her, returning her hug as much as he could. Her voice is a tender, soft and deliberate. She whispers that song that bound them together, cuddling her 'best friend'.

"Nothing can harm you, not while I'm around. Others might leave you, but I would never. Your in my heart, and your there forever."

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

"So I told him if he didn't stop, I'd throw his butt out the window." Susan's conversation is muffled by the lump in her throat. Rebecca's beginning to wonder exactly just how many drinks she's had since she's parked herself in their living room across from Brian.

"Look Sue, just move on!" Brian's getting angry, tired of playing therapist for his sister.

"Brian I can't! I love that worthless piece of crap!" She brushes a tear with her fake nails careful not to smudge her eyeliner.

Rebecca looks up, "Please don't talk like that, Bruce can hear you."

She glances around the room once again muffled with tears, "Who gives a damn Rebecca!"

Brian raises his voice, "Rebecca, his name is Robert! And I thought the nurse was watching him?!"

"She is, but I just wanted to give him some free-time it is his home-"

Brian pulls his legs in as if he's avoiding a disease. His eyes narrow as Bruce slowly pushes up looking over the coach to see his father, "Rebecca! Get him out of here!"

She nods, repeatedly whispering okay. She reaches over taking his two small hands and leading him back into the living room.

In stark contrast to Susan, Elaine opens her arms, kneeling to his level, "Hello sweat-heart. Oh Rebecca, your not putting him upstairs are you?"

Elaine's husband, Morris Walters mumbles from in front of the TV, "You can leave him Becky, I kind of like him. Kid's got spunk."

She fumbles trying to catch him from a fall, "No, no, I have to. Brian asked me to.' she yells up the stairs, 'Nurse Meachum! Can you come here a moment please!"

Bruce falls from her grip, quickly trying to stand up once again. Rebecca leans over, "Oh baby! Are you alright?"

He laughs at his own mistake. Rebecca smiles hearing his little chuckle. He turns to look at his mother, still smiling at her grin.

Elaine covers her chuckle, "Oh, he's precious. And he doesn't even cry?"

The nurse dashes down the stairs seemingly appearing out of nowhere, "Yes Mrs. Banner."

Rebecca turns around, "My dear, are you alright?"

She nods expressing clear frustration, "Yes Mrs. Banner."

"Would you be able to keep him upstairs? If it's not to much trouble."

She reaches out taking the child's wrist into her grip, "No trouble, no trouble at all."

Rebecca watches him up the stairs, the nurse clearly frustrated and exhausted.

Brian enters the main room with his drunk sister behind him, "Rebecca, we're going away. The four of us. You me, Susan and Mike. It will be a nice bonding trip which would be healthy for everyone. No, if, ands, or buts."

She struggles not to speak, wanting so badly to refuse.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Chapter Text

She had begun to regret going to work with him that morning, busy with a 'project'. Brian had just made it sound so important that his wife had no choice but to comply. Rebecca was concerned for Bruce, not being able to see him as often as she would have liked. Of course, cirumstances just didn't permit for anything more then a story, or a game before bed. He was two years old now, and she was begining to wish she could have more time, have the days just a little bit longer.

But poor Nurse Meachum! Always 'accidentally' stepping on the things he'd 'create'. Always ignoring his calling for her, or even his basic need for attention. She'd be busy on the phone, especially when the Mr. and Mrs. went out for the evening. She'd have her friend over, linger in the living room, or run down the street to gossip with the neighbors. When she did have her friends over it was imperative that the Banner boy was locked in his room so as not to disturb the conversation. There were days he'd go without food or water, sick often enough usually due to neglect. Of course the only thing that mattered to him was his mother's 'I love you' every night before bed, and keeping a mental record, he was slightly disappointed she foregot to say it last night. 

Otherwise, Robert Bruce Banner would usually find things to occupy his time with. He'd 'construct' things until he couldn't find any more materials and 'read' until his eyes burned or until Meachum would take his book away, claiming 'he was too young for books.' Even if he couldn't read, just to see the words and numbers excited him and when Meachum took away his little amusement, he was usually one step ahead of her. Bruce would always find it again mistaking her frustration as nothing more of a game. He had even eventually found a way to pick at the lock for his room and 'escape', outsmarting his care-taker in every sense of the word.

All the things Mrs. Banner found completely adorable, were further reason for Brian to consider his son a 'freak of nature', including his poor vision. Rebecca nearly flipped when Bruce told her in his limited voabulary that he couldn't see the pictures on his story;

"Mama, I not see."

"Darling, what do you mean you can't see?" She had to test it. She brought the book closer to his nose; He pulled away.

She stood up, holding the book on her thighs, positioning herself on the opposite end of his room, "Can you see it now baby?"

He smiled, "Yes mama. I see."

At least he was good about his optometry appointment, and about wearing his glasses. The large glass circles highlighting his adorable and irrisistable features. Mom couldn't help but snuggle him if she wasn't chasing him in a game of 'hide and go seek' on the weekends.

Even at that, Brian Banner had so convienently arranged for a vacation on the last two weekends of every month, leaving him with a foregetful and neglectful Nurse Meachum. No matter how hard Robert Bruce tried to even look at his father, Brian would shove him aside or slip the Nurse an extra $20 to keep him out of his way.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

The very first time Bruce had ever even heard of another child was when Jennifer Walters was born, exactly fourteen days after he had turned 3;

"Oh my word! That's wonderful Morris!-I can't wait to meet her." Rebecca held her hand over her heart, talking on the phone. Bruce looked up at his mother, eyes wide and waiting for the news;

Maybe Daddy was coming home? Oh no! Would he yell again? Maybe Aunt Elaine wasn't so sick anymore? Maybe Aunt Susan would come over and use those words that made Mommy cover over his ears.

She hung up the phone before kneeling to his level. She loved how his eyes lit up whenever she smiled. It was beyond tempting not to scoop him up into her arms. She brushed a small curly lock from his forehead, "Aunt Elaine had a baby."

He tilts his head trying to understand her. She holds his small hands into hers, "And the baby is a little girl. Her name is Jennifer."

He tries to repeat her, "Jenn-Jennifer."

"Yes sweat-heart. She's your cousin and we're going to meet her next week. You must be very careful with her when she comes because she's still very little. Alright baby?"

"Yes mommy."

His little voice, smile, and glistening eyes were all too much for her. She lifts her hand to his cheek, "Come on my little one. Do you want to sit with mommy and read a story before bed?"

He nodded, "Yes Mommy. Please."

She holds his hand as they walk to the sofa. She reaches over grabbing two books from the shelf. one on 'Captain America' or the other containing pure facts. She'd modify the science one to make it interesting enough for Bruce to want to learn about it, or to at least look at the pictures.

To her surprise, he politely requested another choice from the shelf;

"Mommy? What's this one?"

She glances over, "Really baby? You want this one? About physic- huh, science?"

He smiles, nodding his head, "Please?"

Rebecca knows what he wants; her version of a story, to his liking complete with demonstrations of how stuff works. She skims through the pages, "Oh here! So we'll talk about gravity. Can you say that darling?"

"Mommy."

"Yes baby?"

"I know about gravity." He takes his small book, urging her to watch as he gently tosses it onto the carpet, "Look Mommy, gravity."

"Yes honey, that's gravity. But, please don't throw your book."

He looks down ashamed and embarassed, realizing he's disappointed his mother. And time was too precious to be wasting with her scolding him;

"I sorry mommy."

Rebecca rubs his small back, "It's ok darling. I foregive you."

He jumps off the coach, picking up his book and placing it onto the shelf before returning to sit beside his 'best friend'. He never wanted to make her upset, always behaving to the best of his ability when she was around and listened to every word she said;

"I not do it again."

"Bruce honey, don't be sad, I foregive you."

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Aunt Elaine was beyond excited to introduce her baby, happy her sister-in-law came to her instead of the other way around. Rebecca stood wide-eyed in the entry of the door held open by Morris;

"Evening Rebecca, hi Robert. Did Brian come?"

She shakes her head, "No. I'm sorry Morris. He got busy with work."

"That's too bad. I haven't seen him in a while.' He nods, slightly disappointed welcoming the two-some into their humble home. Rebecca covers her mouth looking at the small bundle in Elaine's arms, 'Oh! She's beautiful!"

Elaine smiles, "Thank you Rebecca. Hello Robert."

Bruce stands beside his mother, not to close, but not to far. He's slightly tired from that 20 minute drive, but beyond excited to meet his cousin.

Rebecca rests beside her sister-in-law as Jennifer moves her hands over her eyes waking up from her nap. Bruce raises an eyebrow; cousins are so small...but pretty.

His mom smiles, "Can you see her Bruce?"

His aunt stutters, slightly alarmed, "Oh, uh it's Bruce? Not Robert?"

"No no, Bruce is his middle name."

She nods. Why Bruce? Of all the names to think of. "You know Rebecca, Bruce was my father's name."

"Oh really? I didn't even know. Brian doesn't mention his father."

She nods, changing the topic, "Look at Jennifer's eyes. Their almost hazel."

Bruce leans over, wanting to be a part of everything; "Aunty? Why she not talk?"

"Oh Robert, well...She's still very little. But she will be talking."

Rebecca nods in agreement. He pushes his sliding glasses up, "Aunty? Will she walk?"

"Yes my dear. She'll be walking."

"Aunty?"

She tries not to laugh at his adorable expressions, "Yes Robert?"

"Will Jenn-Jenni-fer play with me?"

"Of course! But right now, she's still very little. But when Jennifer is big like you, then she will play."

He smiles satisfied with his answers. He's curious about this bundle in front of him, just as curious as she is. Her eyes meet his, amused by his glasses. She reaches up to the surprise of Rebecca and Elaine, wanting to be with Bruce. Rebecca grabs her from falling, her son visible nervous about Jenn's manuvour; "It's ok Bruce baby, just make sure she doesn't fall."

Elaine pulls her back, "Jennifer Walters! Don't bother your cousin! Your such a girl! Interested in little boys already!"

Rebecca laughs, "Wait until she gets a little older! Then she'll be chasing them."

"Oh! Not in my house she won't!"

The words go over the little boys head, still enthralled with the little girl reaching for his glasses. His chuckle gets her to smile for the very first time.

Rebecca glances at Elaine who smiles back; "They're cute together. Rebecca, This might be good for him. I was just thinking, have you ever considered...having another?"

She looks down whispering, "I was very happy to hear about Jennifer. But Elaine, Brian doesn't even look at Bruce. He won't talk to him, won't hug him, I don't understand."

She glances upwards completely horrified, "Wha- Why?"

"I just don't know what to do. I've tried everything. All Bruce wants is to be acknowleged! And Brian treats him worse than a rebellious teenager."

Morris enters interuptting their conversation unknowingly, "Hey, you guys hungry? I made soup."

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Bruce woke just in time to run to the window and watch his parents drive off in that silver machine on four wheels.

His falls back onto his heels, feeling abandoned. He rests his chin on his crossed arms, gazing out the window. The boy wished he could have one full day to spend with his mother or at least wake up one morning without her leaving.

That strange woman enters the living room. Never kind, never exactly bitter either.

"Come on Robert." Her tone is out of pure obligation, rather then love or affection, ready to drage the child into submission like she always does.

He glances back out the window, pushing his glasses up from sliding.

"Robert!" She calls a second time.

Why all the names? What was his name? He places his small bare feet on the ground walking from the carpet of the living room to the cold tiled kitchen.

Mommy called him Bruce, sometimes Robert. Nurse Meachum just called him well, whatever she felt like at the moment. Words he didn't understand. And what did Daddy call him? Daddy ignored him. Had he not been good? Why was Daddy always mad at him? What was a 'Daddy' anyway?

He glances at the Nurse, staring into her coffee cup, "Robert!"

He chuckles; the lady is so strange! His big enough to take care of himself, pulling himself onto the chair, trying to look into the eyes of that weird woman in front of him.

"Nurse? When is Mommy coming home?"

She ignores him, standing to mix him something warm.

Maybe she didn't hear him; "Nurse?"

She tosses a bowl onto the table, oatmeal spilling over the edge of the small container. She tosses a towel beside it, before snagging her cup of coffee and heading into the living room.

He wrinkles his nose; why doesn't she say anything? He places his hands on the chair, slowly pushing himself off. His feet dash back onto the carpet looking for his care-taker. She's 'melted' on the sofa, watching a TV program. She bearly looks up before yelling, "ROBERT! Get inside and eat breakfast! And stay away from me you little creature!"

He jumps, startled by her tone. He turns back around running back into the kitchen, climbing back onto the chair. Probably the coolest thing at the table is the small spoon...wait!

He narrows his focus on that tempting electric socket. What was that big word? Experiment! Yes! It was an experiment! Bruce couldn't resist, as he climbs back off the chair, headed for that thing in the wall. He gets on his knees, studying the small rectangles before analyzing his spoon. Should fit.

His tongue twirls on the roof of his mouth as he jams it inward. A blue light sparks as he pulls away. His mouth is an 'o' as he studies the socket. There's somet sort of chemical, some sort of force pushing and pulling. He knows it has something to do with the spoon...what causes it? Can he control it?

Bruce pulls back, feeling dizzy. His hunger vanished, looking for more things to 'experiment' with. A book falls from the shelf onto the carpet. With the Nurse already fallen asleep on the sofa, nothing can wake her.

He picks up his book, studying the words. He reads the letters rather then actual words in an undertone, heading towards his room. He smiles, he knows this word! He keeps reading before looking at the picture; Steve Rogers was an experiment? With what? Why?

Chapter Text

It was a smart move to get Rebecca to take a drive with Susan, though she was completely against leaving Bruce on the weekend.

Brian Banner kept himself busy, changing all the locks on every door due to his little boy genius. His temper flaring quite frequently throwing the screw-driver to the ground in between sipping his bottle of liquor. Brian did not want to be doing this on a Saturday, but if it meant locking his son up for the rest of the day, he'd be willing to do just about anything.

Bruce stayed behind him, not making a sound. It was risky, standing so close to this giant who he called his 'father'. It was only a matter of time before he was yelled at and told to go away. He knew his father would snap at any given moment, but maybe, just maybe he would change his mind although Bruce never heard his parent say anything to him other than a reprimand. Bruce hesitated to ask, sitting comfortable on the sofa behind him, head rested on his hands.

His timid voice expresses his fear, "Daddy? Excuse me but what are you doing?"

His father slams the screw-driver down yelling down the stairs, "Nurse Meachum!"

Bruce trembles, his voice above a whisper, "Daddy?"

"NURSE MEACHUM!"

The startled nurse runs by and grabs the child's wrist, "I'm sorry Mr. Banner, please forgive me, I lost track of where he went."

"Keep him away from me!"

She drags him along, "Yes Mr. Banner."

Down the stairs, through the rooms; She opens the back door throwing Bruce outside in the backyard, "Go! Get out!"

He shakes, pulling at the door handle, "Nurse? Mommy!" He falls back losing his balance. The nurse yells in an angry outburst from the kitchen, "Go play!"

He rubbed at his eyes, exhausted and alone again. Daddy didn't even let him get his glasses before fixing the lock! How was he supposed to see anything?

But waiting to be let in wouldn't do any good. He knew he needed to amuse himself, so he searched through the yard looking for scraps. Daddy always left a mess behind after a project.

The child was all to happy to have found a wire, and a small transistor. He positioned himself on the grass, holding his project at a distance to view it better.

Minutes passed; Hours passed; Finally! Mommy came home!

He practically jumped into her arms once she stepped outside, big smile over his face when she held him; 

"Baby, it's going to rain soon. Come inside."

He snagged his small 'experiment' and brought it inside with him. Rebecca analyzed it trying to figure out what it was. He had managed to create a small radio, using scraps?

"Hum, you know what this needs baby?' he shakes his head, 'A nine volt." She searches through her drawer, for his missing piece. Upon finding it, she kneels to his level so that he can see her work. He's memorized by her slender fingers, turning over his creation upon completion

"There. Perfect." She hands it back to him.

He smiles, "Mommy, your really smart."

Brian shouts as he storms down the steps, "I'm going out! I want Robert in bed when I come back. God help him if that kid is still awake!" He slams the door behind him, startling his wife and son.

Bruce looks down. She leans over, gently touching his shoulder, "Where are your glasses baby?"

He shakes his head, "In my room."

"Why don't you put them on?" She's confused, he's always good about his glasses.

He heads towards the stairs without another word, not in any rush. She can tell he's having trouble seeing the steps as he slowly takes his time, hanging onto the wall beside him.

"Nurse Meachum?" Rebecca turns around to look for the nurse. She calls her a second time, finding her asleep on the coach. Some help.

Rebecca jumps as she hears a tumble on the stairs and the nurse rattled from her sleep, makes no attempt to move. Mrs. Banner dashes into the living room clutching her heart after seeing Bruce on his hands and knees on the steps. "Baby! Are you okay?"

His mouth is open in shock. It hurt, but what bothers him is the steps are 'moving'! He remains emotionless, trembling as he re-establishes his balance. She stands behind him, realizing he wanted to to it on his own. It almost bothers her that he's so strong and independent already. For someone that age, she knew any other typical child would cry if he fell and need a boost in climbing those stairs, but not her son. And what should she expect from a boy whose been forced into independance since he could walk?;

"Are you okay sweat-heart?"

He holds onto the wall, "Yes mommy."

They reach the top of the steps. Rebecca holds her hands on her hips concerned for her baby. Bruce picks up his glasses, putting them on his face. Finally! The world is no longer a blur!

He sits on the edge of his bed, head bowed low. She sits beside him, "Baby, what's wrong?"

He leans over picking up his book from the floor. Daddy was in here, he can tell. He clutches it before looking up at his mother, "Mommy, why does Daddy work?"

She thinks for a moment, "Well, Daddy works so that he can take care of us."

He has so many questions, so little answers, "Mommy, how come Daddy doesn't talk to me?"

"Aw Bruce, Daddy is just very busy."

His head lowers, looking at his bare feet. Rebecca is horrified the nurse would let him outside with no coat and no shoes.

"Mommy, does Daddy like me?"

She lies. She knows it's a lie and it breaks her heart; "Yes baby."

He doesn't believe her completely. All he wants is her warm embrace, to know he's loved by someone. He rests his head on her bicep, "Mommy, do you like me?"

She wraps her arm around him, "Oh Bruce, I love you very much."

He climbs to his feet, wrapping his arms around her neck, "I love you Mommy."

She returns his hug, gently holding his head on her shoulder. Tears swell in her eyes. How could someone so little feel so much?

"Your my best friend Bruce. I love you."

Chapter Text

He hadn't seen his mother all month, not even once. 'Christmas' was almost a promise that he wouldn't be left home alone. His eyes burned with tears from crying himself to sleep the night before. Nurse Meachum had been so cruel, throwing his doll at him and taking his book away. The fact that she had hit him harder than he was accustomed or that his dilemma was due to the fact that she had left him unattended with the stove on didn't seem to phase her. His hand still throbbed from touching the oven. But every child does that at least once! And he learned his lesson, even without all of the bitter yelling and screaming. And of course, Nurse was too busy hitting and scolding him to properly care for his third-degree burn.

At least today was one out of the year when he knew he'd see his Aunt Elaine, strange Uncle Morris, and his one beloved friend and cousin, Jennifer. He missed them, unable to see his family more then once out of the entire year.

Maybe his mom would be able to play with him today! Or even just read him a story. If only Dad wouldn't call her over so much!

The four-year-old couldn't linger in his bed another minute. The anticipation burned within him despite realizing that his mother would still be asleep. Where was Daddy? Did it matter?

Bruce snatched his glasses up from the table before attempting to tuck in his sheet. It was a messy job, but it was a worth-while attempt.

His small feet tip-toed down the hall. Past the room where the nurse slept soundly. His small feet carefully and slowly took one step at a time. The living room was crowded with a decorated tree stuck in the corner. Goodness! Half his play area had been taken over...

His deep brown eyes soon spotted a small package under that strange decoration. It had his name on it, it must belong to him-

His small fingers flipped the side, unleashing a million small pieces scattered about the floor. He pushes his glasses up from sliding before taking two of the splices with his his finger tips. They connect! An experiement!

He studies the box; Simple! He hands quickly pick up the next four peices snapping them into proper position. The tower looked different in his books, but then again, maybe illustrations were the ones missing the details. Paris? He wondered where Paris was anyways. One of his mother's perfect 'vacation destinations'. Maybe she'd go one day...wait! Would she remember to come home?

His tower quickly grew, accurately and to his liking. His mind vanishes, melted in his own creativity; he's lost in the moment. The minutes pass all to quickly as he snaps the final piece onto his creation. It's complete! Utterly beyond anything he had expected it to be. Maybe his mom would like it, imagining she's in the middle of Paris.

Brian Banner stands behind him, drunk as ever with his mouth open wide. His voice is utterly painful expressing pure rage and discontent, "Wha- ." His eyes rove about the living room, quickly taking everything in. -He's a mutant! It's from the radiation incident at work! It altered his DNA! It's the only explanation! His too young to put something like this together!

Brian steps forward destroying his complex little creation with one swing form his fist. He raises his voice, being the first time Bruce has ever heard him speak directly to him, "You monster!"

His clenched fist throws his son to the ground, pounding his small head against the wall. Bruce takes in a shuddering breath, half-blind as his glasses are thrown from his face. His cheek burns from his father's action. He screams, unprepared for the attack. It felt much worse than Meachum's; 

"Daddy! No!"

Brian yells uncontrolablly, punching his small son a second time to throw him across the room;

"You're a freak of nature! No child your age should be able to do what you've done!"

His small heart skips a beat as he struggles to hide in the corner backing away from his father, tears streaming down his bright red cheek, "Daddy! Don't hit me!"

"You abnormal mutant! You could fool your mother anyday! Try fooling me you freak!"

Bruce shudders at his father's aggressive hit. Blood fills in his mouth as he bends over trying to breathe trying to justify his punishment. Maybe he did something wrong. His small body huddles in the corner, small hands over his face and covered with blood. His chest is rattling when he coughs, still struggling to breathe.

Rebecca comes running down the stair, horrified over the scene. The red on their floor has to be from her baby, hiding in the corner in a pool of blood. She frantically grips her husbands tense arm;

"Brian stop it! You'll kill him!"

His thrust forces Rebecca to the ground. In pain she clutches her cheek, "Brian stop!"

"I never wanted a child Rebecca! He's a freak of nature! He's a mutant from all the radiation stuck in his blood!"

"He's only a child Brian!"

Bruce is bearly able to open his eyes, "Mom!"

His weak attempt to run to his mother doesn't go unnoticed by that giant still yelling, "Stay away from her!"

Rebecca dives forward blocking her husband's thrust for her baby, "Don't touch him!"

Brian shouts at the top of his lungs eyeing the small child huddled in his mother's embrace, "You inhuman monster!"

Rebecca pulls him closer, shutting her eyes prepared for another attack.

He yells for the nurse, startled from her sleep, she nods sleepily oblivous to everything happening around her, "Yes Mr. Banner, right away Mr. Banner."

She grabs the child's wrist, much to Bruce's dismay pulling him from his mother. She snaps at him, "Come on child! Walk! Upstairs!"

Rebecca relunctantly lets him go, panicking over his injuries. She convinces herself he's safer upstairs away from Brian. At least Meachum will take care of him.

Mr. Banner steps forward grabbing the keys from off the rack dashing out of the house in frustration.

Rebecca screams, "Brian! Don't do this!" The tears stream down her face as he slams the door behind him, ignoring his wife completely. She covers her face falling to the floor, unable to control her intense grief and trembling.

Inhuman monster...

Was that what he said? Daddy called him a mutant, a freak...

Bruce could bearly feel himself or see in front of him while Meachum dragged him up the stairs and into his room. Blood pooling through his mouth from that deep cut on his inner cheek, lip, and damaged internal organs. His chest and belly ached from the punching and he found it difficult to breathe normally.

The nurse threw a towel at him before placing him on his bed, "You stay there!"

He clutched it closer to his mouth, seeing stars as the blood gushed from him. He whimpered horrified and utterly frightened at everything that had transpired, still wondering what he did wrong.

Meachum threw her hands on her hips before fiddling with her hair in the mirror, completely ignoring the startled and afflicted child behind her.

Chapter Text

Mom had gone out early that morning to see Aunt Elaine, acting almost as if it were an emergency. She never smiled, never sung to him softly, and not once read him a story; not since that Christmas incident. Even while he was in the hospital for a week healing from the injuries, on oxygen, and needing stitches; her words were far from comforting. But even though that was at least two months ago, things had changed; not for the better.

Bruce shook as he huddled in a fetal position on top of his bed. His eyes shut tight, praying his father would be merciful this evening. His mouth was dry from his heavy breathing and lack of proper nutrition. His body ached recounting a kick in his upper and lower torso from the previous night, arms cut up from the glass bottle that was thrown at him when his father came home. At least his bottom lip had finally stopped bleeding.

At least Brain was at work all day. But that small hand on the clock was clicking towards the number 6 quicker then ever. Bruce shut his eyes, hoping that when he opened them he'd have an extra hour of solitude and peace. He clutches his pillow in search of comfort, feeling his heart pounding in his chest. 

Mommy promised that when he went to school next year, things would be better. He would make friends, learn more, and be able to 'refocus' his attention from a troublesome life at home. Was she right? What could be so refocusing about this thing called 'school'?

He heard that dreadful machine pull up the driveway and just from the sound, he knew that wasn't Mom.

He's coming! Bruce covered his face, trembling even more. He knew better than to cry no matter how much he wanted to. His eyes widen, hearing the foot steps came to a halt, but Brian's voice was clearly audible as he slurs in his speech;

"Meachum! Where's the kid?"

Robert burried his face in his forearms, smart enough to have removed his glasses already. Theywere his fourth pair this month...and Mommy couldn't afford another. Anything Bruce had, came out of her own pocket. She was struggling as it was, having to sell a few belongings to get him his newest pair. Brian would give her a small monthly 'allowance' that she had stashed away for emergencies usually spent on Bruce's constant hospital visits and surgeries...that too was dwindling.

Brian Banner entered the room, gripping a firm hold on his son's small shoulders before throwing him from his bed. He barley scrambled to his hands and knees before his father slapped the back of his head with an intense blow, "Where's your mother?! What did you do to her you little freak?!"

A tear slips from the child's eyes, griping at his own head when he screams in for it all to stop. Brain wasted no time before kneeing his small gut, tugging his hair to force Bruce to look him in the eye;

"Stop crying you abnormal demon! What the hell is wrong with you? Where's Rebecca!?"

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Rebecca shuts her car off, trembling when she dashes to the door upon realizing Brian beat her home. She mutters under her breath pulling at the door before turning the key;

"Oh no, please no!" Her body is shaking, brushing her hair over her shoulder and out of her way.

Her heart pounds, noticing a shattered and empty beer bottle outside her front door. Her body thrusts forward pushing the door open yelling in a panic; 

"Nurse Meachum! Brian!"

Her feet hurry up the stairs, hearing her baby's weak and muffled shrills. "Bruce!" Her eyes widen as she stands in his doorway, inhaling out of pure horror. She covers her mouth when Brian throws him to the ground, finally removing the hand from off his mouth. Bruce takes a shuddering inhale, finally able to breathe again once his body collides with the ground. He's doubled over clutching his gut, gagging and continually coughing up nothing but blood onto the ground as he shook uncontrollably.

Brian yelled clenching a fist, with no intention of leaving him alone,

"It's in your blood! You're a mutant! There's no reason why your alive!"

Rebecca runs forward throwing herself in front of Bruce to take his father's punch, "Brian stop it!"

He turns away punching the wall in frustration after he realizes, he's hurt his wife. His eyes shut before running for the door. His screaming echoes throughout the entire house as he breaks a glass in the hallway. Doors slam, things fall, and everyone seems to break into a million peices.

Rebecca can hear the front door slam shut and the car engine begin to roar. She's lost him...no matter how hard she's tried.

She shuts her eyes, sitting on her heels with Bruce huddled over her lap. Her hands gently stroking his sore back, tears slowly slipping from her own eyes;

"Baby! Look at me, your safe,' She frantically yells for the nurse seeing his bruises and fresh injuries, 'Meachum! Please come quick!"

She pulls back into her embrace trying to look him in the eye while she brushes his cheek. He trembles curled up in a tight position, unable to open his eyes or move at all. She holds his head gently against her chest speaking soft and consolingly;

"It's okay Bruce. I've got you, it's alright. No one can hurt you."

Her child's breathing stays shallow, struggling to whisper, "Dad-...hit you- Mom-."

She brushes through his hair, frantic over getting him help when she sees the pool of blood. She removes her jacket, trying to hold it over his mouth to stop the bleeding. He panics, pulling away when he misinterprets her help. Rebecca abandons the idea, scooping him into her arms with a lump in her throat; 

"Shh, no- It's okay baby. I'm not going to hurt you, I promise. We'll be alright. Hold onto me." She looks upwards holding him closer then before, tears streaming down her cheek when she screams, "Meachum! Please!"

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

One Month Later-

Bruce twirled his tongue over the cut in his mouth, the taste of blood still clear as day. Rebecca handed him a second ice pack, holding it just above his eye, her right hand occupied on the telephone with Aunt Elaine. No matter what, their personal sufferings were always a secret. No one knew and Rebecca had made sure it stayed that way, trying to appear as 'normal' as possible...

"I didn't even know you were planning on moving.-Yes- And I'm glad for Morris.- Hold on Elaine-(No Bruce, don't pull like that. Thank you Meachum)- I'm sorry Elaine, what was that?-Yes, of course you have to do what you feel is right. We'll miss you though. Is it a nice home?-Hold on-(Hold this baby.)-I'm sorry Elaine, yes I hear you. Of course, maybe we can talk later-(No Honey! Don't bite your lip!) Yes We'll talk. -Good-bye."

She hangs up the phone, glancing upwards at the clock, '5:30'. She sighs heavily throwing her hands on the top of her head.

Meachum flips a page in the newspaper at the opposite end of the table, "Another arrest in Blooms County. This guy just killed his wife and two daughters."

She brushes her fingers through her hair before taking the ice pack from her son, "Please, don't talk about that Meachum. I don't want Bruce to hear the news."

Her finger gently brushes over his eyebrow, black and blue. Susan and her husband Mike would be coming over any minute, and frankly, she was not in the mood for any sort of company ready to pour makeup over her son's injuries to avoid any more questions. The nurse mumbled from behind the huge printed page;

"The kettles whistling Mrs. Banner."

Rebecca rushes to the side flipping off the switches on the oven. She threw her head back, unable to bite her tongue;

"Nurse Meachum, if it's too much for you to lend a hand in the kitchen, I don't believe I owe you as much?"

The frustrated nurse lowers her paper, "It's Friday Mrs. Banner. I am off on Fridays."

"If your off on Fridays, why are you lingering in the house? And not out with your friends?"

She leans her arms on the table, "Mrs. Banner! I'm going out this evening. If I have your permission of course."

Rebecca waves her hand in the air as if to say 'whatever'. She turns her back towards the oven looking at her son. She can tell he's biting at his cheek again, his small frame huddled in a chair, his knees brought into his chest. She felt bad giving him clothes a size to big, unable to see anything but his small fingers and tiny toes under the fabric. He rubbed his feet over one another, outwardly expressing his nervousness and discontent. She lowers her eyebrows being the first time she's realized this little habit of his;

"What do you want sweat-heart?"

She watches him shake his head 'no', not wanting to talk. She glances at the nurse, "Meachum, can you go inside for a minute?"

The nurse jumps up feeling dismissed and heads for her room talking to herself.

Rebecca kneels down to look him in the eye, "What's wrong baby?"

She wants to cuddle him, hold him in her arms, and reassure him of her love. She hesitates, knowing he's aching and doesn't want to hurt him.

Bruce's eyes fill looking at his mother. Her upper cheek is flushed bright purple, probably from when Daddy hit her.

-'Why doesn't she smile and tell me everything will be alright?'

She gently kisses his head, before abruptly pulling away at the sound of the front door opening. Exposing Brian Banner, angry as always. Rebecca and her son jump, trembling as Daddy heads for the kitchen, "Rebecca, I want a beer."

She stays close by her son, "Brian, you know-you shouldn't"

"Rebecca!" He slams his fist into the table. She jumps, holding her palm over her heart startled by his action. She whispers repeated, 'Alright, alright.'

Bruce lowers his head over his forearms and knees, daring not to even look up at his father. Brian shouts, "Robert! Go inside!"

He shakes as he slowly stands up. To place his feet on the floor is more work then his body was ready for. He slowly starts moving towards the living room. Brian reaches out his hand hitting him as he passes. Rebecca runs forward, "Don't hit my baby!"

Bruce falls onto his knees, more emotionally hurt then anything else. His mother runs to help him to his feet as Brian yells;

"When will you stop defending the little creature!"

She narrows her focus, a lump in her throat, "When you stop hurting him!"

"Get out of my way Rebecca!" He stands up, his forehead red from his screaming. Rebecca moves with her child in her grasp, "Brian please..."

"Rebecca I swear!" He follows her as she backs up keeping Bruce behind her.

She looks downward before pushing her son in the closet firmer than she had intended and presses her back against the closed door;

"Brian, your drunk! Please! Just stop it!" Her husband thrusts forward knocking her to the floor. She yells for it to stop,

Bruce falls into the dark space, struggling to control his tears. His weak pushing against the door goes unnoticed as he hears his mother scream. From the small crack in the door, he can see his father hitting her. Bruce goes back to his pushing, eyes blurring when he tries to snap the lock, aching to break free and protect his mother. He tries to scream, voice cracking with nothing more than a whisper, leaving his throat bone dry. His heart beat quickens when it ends in failure, realizing the painful truth that he is no more able to free himself, then prevent her attack.

Chapter Text

Rebecca had done her best to hide her son's fresh wounds and bruises as much as possible with that long sleeve sweater. Despite it being at least 77 degrees on that warm September, he'd be forced to dress to the opposite extreme, just to appear 'normal' on this very first day of school. Mom had made sure his glasses were clean and his two small books were in order before stepping out of the car.

That 10 minute drive was the longest in Bruce's entire life, hesitant about what might happen. These were strangers, every single one of them.

-Would they hit him? Would they beat him if he didn't get the answers right?

Rebecca knelt to the damp grass, wrapping her arms around his small figure giving him one more hug. He'd be safe here, away from home for a longer amount of time.

Her little scientist didn't seem to enthralled with the idea of leaving Mom, scared to death with arms that couldn't have held her any closer in their embrace.

She pulled away holding her hands gently over his shoulders. Her voice was soft, but Bruce knew better: She was scared, upset, and slightly uneasy. No matter how many 'parent-teacher' conferences she had already arranged for herself, leaving her most precious possession, even just for the day, was difficult after all they'd been through.

"It's okay baby, you'll be fine. You be very good for Miss Helen and listen to what she says. Okay darling?" He nodded, never smiling, never really expressing any emotion. This scared Rebecca as she cupped her hand over his cheek, "Are you okay baby?"

He nodded in a whisper, "Yes Mommy."

Her eyes shifted to his left eyebrow, black and blue. Her delicate finger brushed over his eye, whispering tearfully;

"Bruce, I'm- I'm so sorry." Her arms wrapped back around him. Though he wasn't exactly sure what she was apologizing for, it was comforting just to have her hold him close.

Tears filled in her eyes exposing the lump in her throat, all she ever wanted was a family, peace, and a loving home. And all she had ever wanted was taken away from her. Without Bruce, she felt that her life wouldn't have been worth living.

She cupped his small face one more time, kissing his forehead, "I will be back later. Be good. I love you very much baby."

His eyes meet hers, "I love you Mommy."

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

1st Grade

Miss Helen was a strange young woman, hair up in a tight bun, always wearing heals that clicked on the tiled floor. She barely knew the names of the children in her first grade class, calling them 'boy' or 'girl'. Despite having them the year before in kindergarten. She had little control over the class, often letting them run around for the first 5 minutes of every lesson.

'Tommy' was the worst, leading the little wee devils into every sort of trouble he could find. Lucy followed him everywhere, practically worshiping the ground he walked on, dragging Hannah, and David along with her. The other 7 would just watch and laugh, dare them to continue harassing Miss Helen.

As always, Robert Bruce would sit in the corner, immersed in his books and in his lessons. Half the information learned, he had already knew and he excelled in. Unfortunately, his intelligence would always go unnoticed, as Miss Helen wasn't one to actually 'check' the work the way she should have.

But the children knew about that strange quiet boy in the corner. Wearing glasses and long sleeve sweaters, even in the middle of a heat wave. They knew his mind never stopped, watching him work tirelessly on problems children at least two years older were busy with.

Tommy wasted no time spreading rumors about the 'little freak in glasses.' David would laugh, calling out to him during their breaks;

"Hey, freak! What's on your face!" Tommy would chime in, "What cat got your tongue?"

Bruce would ignore them, covering his ears, never shifting his focus from off the written page. It was only that day the annoying little girl decided to physically 'attack' Bruce, when things went wrong;

Hannah had no problem poking him, in an attempt to illicit a response. Bruce pulled away quickly unaware that she had even snuck up behind him. His body slid, he squealed as he fell off his chair. Hannah snickered running to her own desk, "Your so weird!"

Miss Helen turned around seeing Bruce, the only child on the ground. She crossed her arms, "Robert Banner! Are you paying attention? Or should I call your mother?"

Tommy laughed, whispering behind him to David, "Bobby needs his mommy!" David chimed in, "His name is what?"

Bruce trembled coming up to his feet before readjusting, "I'm sorry Miss Helen."

She snubbed her nose, before turning back around to her chalk board, "You should be. Disturbing my class."

Tommy rolled up a small dampened piece of paper into a ball at the urging of Lucy. She jumped in her seat, dying for the odd ball to get into more trouble "Do it, do it, do it!"

He was all to happy to oblige throwing the paper ball at the teacher. Helen whipped her head around, eyes narrowing at Bruce. He looked up over the rim of his glasses, confused as to why she looked that way.

She placed her chalk on the board, "That's it. I've had enough with you."

Lucy sunk in her chair, Tommy covered his mouth hoping that strange kid would get in trouble.

Miss Helen grabbed Bruce by his wrist dragging him from the room as she yelled, "Mr. Demetrius! Can you take him down to the principals office? I need to teach my class."

The strange man nodded more focused on the teacher then the child, "Certainly ma'am. And I didn't forget about our little date later you know."

Her face turned red handing Bruce into his grip, "Oh, Demi, you make me blush!"

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Bruce fussed to pull out of his grip as they struggled down the hall, "Lemme go! Don't hit me!"

The teacher growled, tired of his figting, "Come on kid! Stop it! I'm not gonna hit you!"

They reached the stairs when Bruce finally succeeded in pulling away, twisting and forcing the teacher to release his hold until he complied. Demetrius pulled at his neck smiling at his little maneuver, "Take it easy kid, that's how you break your wrist."

Bruce huddled his back to the corner trembling as a tear slid from his eye, "Don't hit me!"

The young teacher gave a nervous chuckle, lifting his hands in a surrender. He paused in his step slightly concerned over how badly he seemed to shake;

"Kid, I'm not going to hurt you."

Bruce couldn't have gotten his body any closer to the corner. He quickly removed his glasses, holding them in his hands as he covered his face expecting a punch.

The teacher stopped in his tracks, dropping his arms, "Jeez! Enough already!" He crossed his arms, positioning his body to stand over the child to stop him from running off, "What's your name kid? Is it Robert?"

His voice shook with uneasiness, "Bruce."

Demetrius raised an eyebrow, "Bruce? Not Robert?"

He refused to respond, never moving his arms from over his face. The teacher dropped his voice, "Can you, follow me? I won't touch you anymore I promise."

No answer.

-Forget the Principal, this kid was going to the psychologist!- The teacher felt a hint of pity, wondering what could've possibly shaken him up that much. Mr. Demetrius just smirked;

"Come on, follow me."

Bruce hesitantly listened, refusing to permit anyone to even think about touching him, maintaining a safe distance.

They past the lab where 3rd Graders worked on their models. The teacher couldn't help but notice his curiousity. He smiled, "They're making things for science class. What? You like science or something?"

Bruce kept quiet, still observing their work as they headed down the hallway. There was something about his shy behavior that the teacher connected with, dying to open him up and see what he was thinking.

Another lady cam up walking the other way, heals clicking calling his name, "Mr. Demetrius? Principal Harris wants to speak with you."

"Oh good! That's just where I was headed."

"No, it's not good. He's aware of your unprofessional careless behavior in a school!"

"Um...I've got a kid here that's missing class because I can't get him to the office!?"

"No excuses. I'll take the kid. You just report to that office unless you want to get laid off!" She reaches down aggressively grabbing Bruce's wrist, "What he do?"

Demetrius takes the paper, eyes fixed on the boy when he shrugs, "I don't know, he seems to quiet to be causing trouble honestly. Careful with him, he's a little fussy. I was tempted to take him to the psychologist honestly. He was shaking in the corner-"

She rolls her eyes, "What you do? Hit him?"

"I would never! You know that!"

Bruce feels a lump in his throat, pain in his wrist, and tears in his eyes. -Why couldn't he just go home already?-

"Really? Cause he's got a black and blue over his eye!"

He pulls his face away from her when she tries to point to his obvious injury. Demetrius, rests a hand on Bruce's shoulder, pointing to the marks on the back of his neck, "What's this?"

Bruce shrills, struggling to pull his wrist from the lady's hand and get away from the other teacher when he screams, "No!"

He releases the child, "See what I mean? he freaks out over every little thing."

"Child! Stop fighting with me!"

"Easy Elsa, don't hurt him."

She waves her other hand gripping the boy a little tighter, "You know what Demetrius, for all your rubbish, I'd rather you just get laid off! I'm sick and tired of covering you! You hear me?!"

"Okay, just take care of the kid, I'll take care of myself, alright?"

"What's his name?"

Demetrius gives a smile, "Bruce Banner."

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Bruce waited in the cold room on a small chair waiting to be called. His knees were brought in with his arms wrapped around them, hiding his face.

Mr. Demetrius slammed the door entering the lobby where Bruce waited. He looked up startled by the teachers behavior. The Secretary snickered;

"Serves you right Demi. Going to the bar to find a new job? Probably the only place where you'd fit in anyways."

He snickers at her before glancing back at Bruce, "See you around kid." He held out in his hand in a final attempt to make amends. Bruce just looked at it then back at him. The teacher waved his hand in a surrender as he headed for the door.

Principal Harris stepped outside his office into the lobby, "Robert Banner?"

Bruce looked up, not sure of what to do. The Secretary pointed to the only child in the room rolling her eyes, "Banner."

The principal rubbed his face in exhaustion. Bruce was called in way too many times over nonsense, not once caused by him individually, "You called his mom?"

She nods.

"She coming?"

She nods again.

"Okay then what does Helen want me to do? Beat him?"

Bruce shudders, misunderstanding his sarcasm.

The Secretary laughs, "I'll handle it if you want to go home."

He nods in agreement lifting his coat off the rack and heads for the door.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Bruce jumps when his mother walks in, innocent eyes wide and hopeful she wouldn't be angry over him falling off the chair because he was poked. The boy still had no idea why he was being punished, to startled to ask any questions.

He saw Tommy walk by the clear door with his father, pointing to the Banner boy with a devilish smirk over his face. Bruce burried his face into his knees praying his father wouldn't beat him later. He couldn't afford to get one more bruise.

Rebecca stands in front of him, hands clasped in front of the waistband of her skirt. When she offers a hand to her child. Bruce just stands up on his own, walking beside his mother as they leave the office.

She sounds disappointed as they make their way to the door, always remainging tender and soft in her tone;

"What happened Bruce?"

He shakes his head 'no', repressing all his emotions for the time being. She sighs, hair swaying when she brushes it over her shoulder;

"What did you learn in class today?"

His voice stays low, walking slowly to stop his backpack from grinding against an open wound;

"What do to in Thunderstorms, equal parts, map symbols and telling sentences."

His mother nods, eyebrows lowering when she sighs. How could Helen say he wasn't paying attention? She had to ask, hardly believing this to be a problem;

"Baby, were you distracting other children?"

He nods, blaming himself, "Yes, because I fell off my chair at my desk."

"Honey, you fell? Are you alright?"

"Yes but Miss Helen got upset."

She kneels down to his level outside by their car, rubbing her forefinger over a healing cut on his upper cheek. She didn't know what to tell him. The secretary seemed to know it wasn't his fault, simply sharing a message the teacher told her to repeat before saying something like, 'He's a good boy, I don't blame him for the trouble.' 

Rebecca knew he wasn't a problem, this was happening all too often and over the same story to be considered real. If Bruce wasn't paying attention, how would he know what went on in class? And his notebook was proof he was listening, taking some in depth notes for a first grader.

Chapter Text

Bruce waited, hand under his chin as he stared out the window. His homework was done, but he had no desire to 'invent' or 'create' anything, at least not today. Tommy had tried to throw a punch in his direction, and it wasn't the first time. Daddy had come home already, yelling in Bruce's face, telling him how stupid he was going to be, 'Introverted, and shunned by humanity' before throwing him against the wall.

Rebecca stood in his door, watching her small child in a haze. She took a deep breath before stepping into his room. She glanced over at his papers, books, report card and all. His handwriting was very neat, but his papers were uncharacteristically scattered over his floor; Probably from Brian.

She looked at his grades, everything was perfect. She sighs heavily trying to get him talking;

"What is it baby?"

He growls, anger seemingly exploding from out of nowhere, "Why am I a freak!"

She jumps, eyes widening, "Bruce, don't say that."

He grabs his hair, "I'm a freak! My father says it! He says I'm a mutant!"

She lowers her eyebrows, "Nevermind what your father says!"

He takes deep shuddering breaths. His volume is fading until it's a whisper, "What is a mutant."

She sits in front of him on the widow seat, grabbing his small hands, "No baby! Don't listen to him."

His head pounds into his knees, releasing his tears and still whispering, "He hates me."

She wraps her arms around him to pull his body into her chest, ready to cry herself, "No, don't say that!"

"He hurts me, and, I bleed, and, he hits you, and, he yells, and, he makes you cry."

She feels his body trembling, his voice is shot, fading in and out from all his complex emotions he tries to repress; 

"Shhh, it's okay Bruce. No one can hurt you, I'm here. It's going to be alright."

"Mom!" He screams in his hands, his forehead pounding, his body aching. His call for her is nothing less than subconcious a cry for help. He feels hopeless and confused, internally abandoned.

She cuddles him closer, running her hands over his hair, "Shhh, it's alright baby. I'm here, sweet-heart. I'm not going to leave you."

He doesn't look up, just lets Mom hold him close. Bruce hates contact, he hates it even more right now in this very moment. But if it makes her happy, he's willing to do it, no matter what his pain.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Brian laughs in a drunken fit, slamming his fist on the table. His loud companions shouting arrogantly boastful about anything and everything. The bar tender holds her hand on her hip, "It's well past 1AM and I suggest you boys go home before one of ya gets into an accident!"

Brian snarls at her, "Keep it shut! Hit me up with another!"

She lowers her eyebrows, "Get it yourself! Your here often enough! Why don't you go home to your wife!"

He smashes his bottle onto the ground, shattering the glass over the bar. She clenches a fist, "That's it Mr. Banner! If you don't get out, I'll throw you out!"

He snickers evily, before reaching for his car keys within his coat pocket. His 'friends' yell about seeing him tomorrow and he shouts back leaving the building in a haze.

The bar tender taps a new employee on the shoulder, "Timothy! Can you make sure he gets home okay?"

The new employee nods, stepping outside of the pub. Brian's vision is fogged and his steps are far from straight.

Brian waves his hand heading for his car. The boy follows him with his eyes, and eventually in his car.

Mr. Banner starts his engine, taking off miles over the limit. down the road, into the neighborhood. As he stops the car, angled on the driveway, the young man lowers his window, ensuring Mr. Banner has made it home safely. His eyes rove about the modest home, in the area of this quiet and half deserted neighborhood.

Brian Banner struggles to stand erect, eventually finding his house key after 10 minutes of testing every one on the chain.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

All the children had their eyes focused on the clock, waiting to be 'let loose'. Each child breathing a sigh of relief when the bell went off, with the exception of our little scientist. Naturally brushed aside as different children ran and pushed him from their way.

"Slow poke!" "My dad would call you a loser!" "Move!" "Your in my way!"

Bruce clenched his jaw, tighting his focus for the exit. He ran from the room dashing down the hallway avoiding everyone in his way.

Tommy held out his foot in a failed attempt to trip him. Lucy and Hannah both threatened to poke him should he have passed her way.

Bruce just couldn't get out fast enough. He spotted that silver machine with Nurse Meachum waiting half-asleep in the driver's seat. He jumped in the back without a word, just waiting for her to take off and head home.

. . . . .

Upon their arrival home, he ran to the door ahead of Meachum unable to hide in his room fast enough. He prayed his mom would be there. At least he could hide in her arms until Daddy- no, his father, returned from work.

He ran up the stairs and straight for his room, shocked to see his father standing and drinking as he looked out the window. Bruce took a deep breath before slowly backing up, careful not to make a sound.

Brian turned around all too soon, shouting at the top of his lungs, "Stupid kid!" He took his half empty bottle and swung it forward. The glass shattered, small pieces surrounding his son.

Bruce threw his backpack from off of him before dashing towards the stairs. He was too focused on escape to care about the blood on him from the shattered glass. His heartbeat quickened, running from the unnecessary torment. He could hear another car pull up the driveway just as Brian caught up with him, grabbing his shoulders roughly;

"Mutant! You little Prick!"

"Stop! Dad stop!" He squirmed within his grasp, attempting to fight back.

Rebecca pounded open the door, screaming as Brian threw his son to the ground.

She gasped as Brian kicked him harshly, still yelling, and swearing every other word.

As she ran forward, he turned to her, "Don't get in my way!"

She panted eyes narrowing, "Don't stand between me and my son!"

"Stand back Rebecca!"

"You never give him a chance! How can you do this everyday and not feel guilty!?"

"Give him a chance!? He's worthless! Just because he is smart doesn't mean he's worth living! He's weak Rebecca!"

"Don't lay another finger on my child!"

Brian shifts his focus to the boy, then back at her, "I'm warning you Rebecca!"

"Brian! Why do you do this?! Why Brian?! I hardly know you anymore!" Tears stream down her cheek, her voice in a panic wondering what her future holds.

He raises his voice, "It's him! Ever since that- Thing came into our lives you haven't been the same!"

She opens her mouth in shock, eyes barely opened;

"You never even looked at him! You never talk with him! You never show him any kind of love or any hint of affection! You treat him worse than an object! How can you throw him around and expect him not to break?!"

"I can't love a beast! I prayed every night that thing would die! I asked the doctor's, the nurses- and wished to whatever body is out there that you might change your mind and get an abortion! I should've killed him myself when he was small and when you weren't around! Hell I won't be stuck with the introverted creature for the rest of my life!"

She screams, angered as the lump in her throat gets bigger, "Don't you touch him!"

He raises his fist aiming for Bruce as he runs to his mother. Rebecca clutches her cheek, still feeling the throb of her husbands strike.

Bruce stays close, refusing to leave her side, "Stop it!"

His father yells, "I hope the devil spits you out when you get to hell!"

She screams, throwing her body over her son, "Leave him alone!"

He yells, "Robert will bring the death of you Rebecca! Don't come to me for help because you won't receive it!"

Rebecca stands up, barely able to push Bruce weakly into the bathroom and closes the door. He screams at the top of his voice for his mother. He can hear his father's grunts, slapping and yelling. He pushes at the door going for it's weakest point in an attempt to free himself;

"Mom! Dad don't hurt her!"

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Once in her bedroom, twice in the bathroom, at least 4 times in the closet; Rebecca would push him, preventing physical abuse as best she could, even at the threat of receiving it herself. It troubled her that she could never shield him completely and Bruce never deserved any of this. He never gave her a hard time, acted up, or did anything he wasn't supposed to. Like him, she had bruises on her arm, her head, and on her legs, each one still healing slowly. But the scars imprinted on her heart, would be there forever.

Chapter Text

Bruce was groggy when he woke up, throat burning when he starts in another one of his coughing fits. He forced himself to get out of bed, doubling checking the clock before he did anything else to ensure that his father was gone and out of the house. He makes his way towards the bathroom with a set of clean clothes in his arms. It's his typical attire, long sleeves to cover the scars, cuts and bruises.

Bruce frantically covers his mouth when he sees his mother still sleeping, trying to swallow hard and avoid coughing too close to her room. He didn't want to wake her when he knew she'd been crying through most of the night. He wraps a towel over his nose and mouth, hands pressed tightly against his face to muffle the cough. His eyes close, feeling an intense burning in his chest that causes him to double over. The towel falls from his grip when dizziness kicks in, forcing him to his hands and knees while he struggles to breathe.

His one priority is to stay quiet for his mother, too focused on letting her sleep to think too much about himself. He gets ready as fast as he can, hand over his mouth when he runs back to his room, body colliding with the door frame when he misjudges a few inches. He's disoriented when he makes his bed, rolling up the sleeves of his sweater when he starts to feel warm enough to faint.

He knew his father was working on a project the night before, practically filling the house with the smell of his burning chemicals. Neither Bruce nor Rebecca had gotten any sleep between the noise, the smell and the daily abuse after all of it was done.

Bruce finds his eyes closing dizzy when he finally collapses onto the floor in a haze, covering his mouth in a frantic movement to muffle the noise.

Rebecca covers her mouth when she finds her child on the floor, scooping him into her arms while she sits on the edge of his bed;

“Baby, what's wrong?”

She rubs his back through another coughing fit feeling his muscles tense and hearing his chest crackle. He mumbles, voice shot from all of his screaming through his father's punching the night before;

“I didn't want to wake you...”

Rebecca presses his head into her chest, opposite hand running up and down his tired frame;

“No sweety, it's okay.”

She presses a hand over his forehead, eyes widening over his temperature;

“Baby, do you feel dizzy?”

He nods, cringing through an intense coughing fit. His mother holds him through it, panicking when he starts to wheeze. Reaching over to prop his pillow upright before laying him down, rubbing her hand over his cheek when he curls up into a tight ball;

“Easy Bruce baby, shh, easy.”

His fever was raging, his voice was gone and his cough sounded plain awful. Rebecca had no intention of sending him to school like this. She rubs his back when she sees him trembling running her gentle hand up and down his small body that takes up little room on his twin-size bed;

“Relax sweetheart, it's okay. I'll be right back, I'm just getting the phone.”

She returns quickly with the phone on her shoulder and a thermometer in her hand. Sweet voice when she explains his absence to the school;

“Yes hello?- This is Rebecca Banner, I just wanted to let you know that Robert won't be in today. - No, I'm, I'm really not sure. I'm taking his temperature now.- I'm thinking bronchitis after hearing his cough.- Oh, I do too, I'm going to try and get him to the doctor today. - Yes, thank you Mrs. Jones.”

Rebecca clicks her phone off, urging him to let her take a temperature;

“Please open your mouth for me honey...Good boy.”

She goes back to rubbing him tenderly, pausing with her eyes wide when she reads her thermometer. She stays calm, even if she's panicking internally;

“Bruce, I've got to get you to emergency.”

“Again mommy?”

His reply breaks her heart, her lip quivering when she takes up his hand;

“It's going to be okay baby. It's not going to be like last time. No stitches.”

His eyes close, still tight in his curled up position;

“No surgery?”

“No surgery.”

. . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Rebecca had waited until Bruce had fallen asleep in his bed before tip-toeing down the stairs. He had been sick for the past two weeks, ill with a bad case of Bronchitis, - just like she suspected - and was just starting to come out of it. She refused to leave his bedside every night for the entire week.

She had passed her room, seeing her intoxicated spouse passed out on their bed. It was truly sickening to see the bottles on his end of the room just from that morning. She often wondered how he kept that job, despite his obvious drunken nature.

She slowly sat down on the bottom of the staircase, glancing up at her clock reading '3:00 AM.' No matter the late hour, she was awake, angry from her lack of sleep and depressed over her lack of support from someone, someone who had once vowed to love her forever.

There was that photograph taken many years ago. There was love in his eyes, empathy in his stare, and that gentle hand, wrapped delicately around her waist. She was young and filled with energy, passion, love, and hope for their future together. Rebecca loved him once, for that eager and positive spirit. He would never give up no matter what trials they faced.

This was not the same man in her room, that once filled her with joy sharing in her achievements and failures. Life was different then, worth living, when they had vowed to share in everything together. She wrapped her arms around herself subconsciously.

Her baby changed her world. She had always dreamed he would and for the better. Every goal Rebecca had centered around a peaceful and loving family, where they would rear their children to love in a hopeless world. She vowed to give her baby everything, all the affection and care she could muster;

Had she kept her promise?

When Bruce was born, she knew Brian wouldn't think of him the way she did. Rebecca had prayed one day Brian would change his mind and see the beautiful child filled with energy, intelligence; with a need to love, and to be loved in return.

If only he could see how much she needed that baby. Bruce kept her going, whether he realized it or not. His expressive brown eyes, his warm embrace, tender personality, and eager mind. This was not the environment in which he could blossom to become what he could be. Her child's true potential was muffled with fear of the unknown, fear of be tormented for no reason, and fear of being abandoned.

Rebecca felt a tear fill in her eye as she fell to the ground upon her knees. Her long brown hair swung forward as one hand held her forehead and the other on her stomach; Bruce didn't deserve this; She didn't deserve this. Had she not been there yesterday, Brian would've killed her baby. Bruce was already weak due to his illness and his small body could barely handle the stress as it was. There was no reason to live like this. Every day of their life was a struggle. Their healthcare bill was already more then she could swallow and the emotional injuries caused by Brian's reckless behavior, would be there forever.

Tears streamed down her cheek as she realized Brian had changed and he would not change again. This was the new 'normal', and the worst part was that he didn't care. There was no 'talking sense' into him, no turning back time. Rebecca loved her husband but he was not the man she originally fell in love with. He had become a far different person, and he was not about to revert back.

He tore her apart, and worse off? She had brought another life into this hell of a home. She knew how fragile Bruce was, taking after his mother in many ways which would one day come back to hurt him. She couldn't bear to see Brian draw another drop of blood from her baby. If she lived through one more day of this torment, could he?

And for what?

Rebecca had always tried her best and it was never good enough; not for Susan, not for Susan's husband Mike, and not for Brian. What was the point of trying when all she received was pain? No matter what dream she had, no matter what hope she held onto, nothing would change. Her life would always be a living hell, trying to escape the demon she was tide to forever. Brian was only going to get worse and he would stop at nothing to kill Bruce if he had the chance.

Her fingers wrapped around each other as her right forefinger tugged at her wedding ring. If she was alone, she would've fought longer. She had been selfish enough for bringing a child into the mess and she knew what she had to do. For her own welfare, and for the sake of her son.

Her sobbing was uncontrollable as she slid the ring off her finger; There was no turning back, no time to think about it anymore. No matter how hard she fought, it was over. Divorce was not an option, neither was any sort of legal separation. Rebecca would just take her son and leave anywhere, without the knowledge of Brian.

She cursed herself for even trying to hold onto her marriage, trying to change him. Any dream she had was gone. Any goal she had disappeared. The only thing that mattered was holding onto her life, and the life of her young child.

She buried her face within her hands as the tears continued to stream down her face.

Chapter Text

Rebecca had already decided that enough was enough and that today was the only opportunity she'd have to literally run from the oppression of her violent husband.

She woke early that morning, packing only minimally to avoid sparking Brian's curiosity. She waited until the last possible minute to inform Bruce of her intentions as he stayed close by her side, just doing what he was told.

He whispered realizing his mother had been very quiet since that morning, seemingly ignoring him when she wasn't hugging his shoulders into her to ensure he stayed at her side;

"Mommy, what are we doing?"

She knelt to his level as they stood by the car. Her delicate hands held onto his as she peered into his beautiful cocoa stare, "Oh baby. I don't know where we're going, but it's going to be just the two of us from now on. Just you and me Bruce."

He tries to understand the way a seven-year-old should understand;

"What about Dad Mommy?"

She tenderly brushes his hair from off his forehead;

"Daddy won't be able to hurt you anymore. I promise you that we will both be safe. Nothing will harm you ever again, not while I'm around."

He loves his mother for always being there for him. And wishes he could protect his mom the same way she always protected him.

-Why couldn't he be big already? What took so long to grow up?

Rebecca couldn't hide those tears in her eyes, not from someone who knew her so well. Bruce quickly wrapped his arms around her, wanting to know that she would be alright.

He whispers in her ear, "Don't cry Mommy, I love you."

She returns his warm embrace, whispering back almost tearfully;

"I love you very much Bruce. No one is every going to come between us. And no matter what your father says, you are a very special little one. Don't you ever forget what your worth."

She pulls away gently brushing her hand over her cheek as she whispers, "Come on baby, you ready?"

He nods, quickly kissing her cheek before running to the car. She stands up, taking in one more memory of the small home. Her eyes close as she unlocks the car. She justified her decision in her mind one final time; Enough was enough.

Rebecca's hears a familiar voice and turns around horrified, "Brian!"

He growls, "What is this Rebecca?!"

She backs towards the car, glancing towards Bruce, "Nothing Brian, it's nothing!"

Bruce comes slowly back around, watching as Brian grabs onto her shoulders yelling her name.

She screams frantically, desperate to keep her child out of harms way;

"Run baby!"

Bruce screamed over his father's loud voice, refusing to leave her side;

"Dad stop! Let her go!"

Rebecca fussed to pull away, "Brian-Please!"

His strength over-powers her ability to fight back, "You thought you'd outsmart me?!"

"No Brian! Please just stop!"

"Let her go! I promise I'll be good! I'll never hit you if you hit me! Just let her go! Please!" Bruce screamed as his small hands covered over his ears.

"Shut up Robert! Answer me Rebecca!"

"Please Brian!"

Bruce yells at the top of his voice, "Mom! Daddy let her go!"

She continues to struggle as Brian grabs the back of her head. Her whispers go inaudible as her husband smashes her weak body into the pavement. She falls backward, pounding her head into the cement. Rebecca's eyes close abruptly as her breathing comes to an aggressive stop.

Bruce screams for his mother as blood pours from the skull of her still form, mortified over the ordeal. Her soft brown hair is shaded with deep red hues spilled out around her.

Brian grabs his head screaming as he paces in front of the home, before entering without a word or a backwards glance.

The small child runs closer to his mother's lifeless body, eyes wide completely shaken from the event. He lays the back of his hand over her cheek;

“Mom...?”

He sits next to her, back on his heals as he trembles, hoping she'd 'wake up'. He bows his head, his feet pushing over each other. His mind is racing to fight with the plain reality. Tears form in his eyes, but he is unable to release them as his body stays frozen in shock. Bruce's heart beat quickens as he remains close to her, never leaving the side of his best friend.

He promised he wouldn't leave her, he promised he loved her, and he wasn't about to break those promises.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Police were soon destined to arrive, as a neighbor frantically dialed for help upon seeing the bloodied woman on the pavement with her son close by.

Nurse Meachum ran out grabbing Bruce by his wrist. She appeared numb to the entire occasion, as Brian had given her a solid reward for throwing Bruce in the home. The only stipulation? She was out of a job. Once Robert Bruce was back in the home, the nurse strangely disappeared.

Bruce ran to his window, hearing a swarm of sirens surrounding his home. His body trembled, his heart physically hurt from his emotional pain.

Brian stormed his door open, "Robert you little freak! It's your fault!" He grabs his sons small arms, "If we go to court, you have to lie if you want to get out of the fricken situation you little mutant! You hear me?! If you tell the truth, you'll go to hell! The devil will burn your skin off! And it'll hurt worse than my belt on your back!"

He squirmed from his grip, seeing his mother's blood still on his father's hand, "Robert! Answer me! Don't say a word to the police or I swear I'll cut you over your mother's dead corpse!"

Bruce screams as his small cheeks turn red from built-up anger, "YES!"

His father tosses him to the ground as he runs down stares to answer the door. Cops enter the home severely questioning Brian as to what had just transpired. Bruce peers out the window, witnessing an ambulance and a number of qualified individuals hover over his mother.

His small hand touches the window as they lift the woman into the ambulance. His eyes fill once more, yet his emotions remain imbalanced unsure of how to respond to his current situation. His knees are brought up close as a police officer calls to him;

"Hey kid. You live here? What's your name?"

Bruce trembles, gripping at his clasped hands. His voice changes volume as he says those two little words, "Robert, Banner."

The officer nods remaining stern, "And that is your father down stairs?"

Bruce nods quickly, before burying his head in his knees to avoid any more questions.

"Kid! Look at me! Was that your mother?"

Bruce quickly lifts his head up startled by his tone, "Y-yes. Sir."

The officer leaves him having sufficient information for the time being. He sits alone, mulling over his solitude and abandonment. He can hear his father's voice arguing with the stern and cruel officer.

Hours pass, eventually leaving the father and son alone in the deserted home. The child can hear his father's footsteps as he dashes back into his bedroom, "Robert!"

His father aggressively slaps his already flushed cheek, "You don't say a word when we go to court! You understand? If your mother's in heaven, I swear you'll never see her again! She'd never want to see you again you little prick! If you tell anyone about what happened I'll kill you! Do you understand me?!"

Bruce feels his body go numb as he buries his face back into his knees. Brian slaps the back of his head looking for a response, "Answer me! Yes or No!""

His son throws his head back yelling at the top of his voice as a tear slips from his closed eyes, "Yes!"

As Brian leaves, Bruce falls back looking up at his ceiling, eager to put an end to the most agonizing day of his life.

He soon falls into a restless sleep seeing his mother in his dreams, holding him close. He aches at the thought of never feeling her warm embrace ever again. His body curls into a fetal position, hands under his head feeling more insecure and alone. His imagination played tricks on him, seeing shadows on the wall, hearing his mother scream and watching blood spill from her. There was a strange sensation of suddenly feeling like he was being watched by some imagined individual as he shook from fear and overwhelming emotions he knew his father would beat him for. He hears her tender voice echoing through his mind telling him that she'd be there forever. Even in the distance he can hear her song;

No one's gonna hurt you, not while I'm around. Others may hurt you, but I would never. You're in my heart, and your there, forever.

Chapter Text

Chapter 14

Bruce stays hiding in the bathroom, head buried in his knees when he hears his father screaming;

“Robert! Open the friken door! Now!”

He shakes when he goes to comply, weakly turning the knob an inch before 'daddy' does the rest, knocking the door practically from off the hinge until he grabs his son by his collar;

“You idiot! Trying to hide from me you little freak!? Answer me!”

Bruce can't form the right words, busy trying to stifle the tears he knows he'll get beat for should they ever become visible. The image of that monster he calls his father hurling his best friend to the ground was always going to haunt him. Every time he heard Brian scream or saw that look in his face, he couldn't help but think of his mother's cries for help.

The young Banner boy gnaws at his cheek in an attempt to hide his discomfort, cringing silently when he feels his small body thrown to the ground;

“You are so weak! Pitiful. Stupid,' he grabs his shoulder, forcing his stiff body onto the edge of his bed, 'You realize all the hell you cause? If you weren't hear I'd still have my wife! YOU took her from me! It's your fault! Everything is your fault!”

Bruce just stares blankly at his father, unable to process anything but the frightening tone in his voice. He releases his child only for a moment, clenching a fist that quickly finds it's way into a more tender area on his small frame. Bruce is doubled over with his mouth agape when he feels the pain shoot up through his abdomen, weak moaning and whimpering escaping from him when he shuts his eyes tighter.

Brian turns his back to the aching boy, proving he has no regrets for hitting his only child. His son. The only thing he has left from Rebecca;

“Court is in two days you weak, mindless pest! They're going to ask you questions and you're going to lie! Your mother fell on the pavement, I never even laid a hand on her. Or you. Robert! Look at me!”

Bruce cracks his eyes open after pulling his knees in to protect his lower half, clearly afraid of another hit. His father keeps rambling, tugging at Bruce's hair to pull his head back;

“They'll send me to jail if you go in there and say that I abused you or your mother! But do you know where you'll go for speaking against me?! Hell!”

The child buries his head back into his knees, begging for it to stop. Brian releases his son, heading for a drawer in his nightstand. Bruce can hear the faint crack of leather from his father's belt, preparing for the worst when Brian gives him orders;

“Take off your shirt mutant!”

Bruce trembles, fingers slipping nervously when he tries to be obedient. He knows resisting only leads to more pain, and that it's better to cooperate than deal with any more verbal abuse. Brian takes a step forward when he takes too long, slapping his cheek before tearing his shirt off. He wastes little time in turning him around, immobilizing him with his strong grip. Robert Bruce feels the tears in his eyes over the anticipation of pain he's familiar with;

“No! Daddy!”

Brian corrects him after his first strike;

“I never wanted a son! I may have had something to do with your being born enough to be your father but I am NOT your 'dad'!....What the hell are you going to tell the court if they ask?!”

Bruce trembles, feeling his skin peeling over the rough leather before he feels a tear fall from his eye;

“About what-”

His father turns him back around, pulling his face close to his. Bruce can see the drops of blood on his hands when he goes for his small shoulders;

“You're going to hell Robert! You hear me? Hell!”

Robert Bruce Banner could feel eyes on him as he stood in front of what looked like millions of people. Lights were warm, piercing through his body. There was a tall gentlemen requesting him to place his small hand on a bible, swearing to tell the truth. He remained obedient, doing just as he was told. There was another man continuously raising his voice ready to pound Bruce with questions in a cross and stern voice. His eyes closed removing himself from the current situation, recounting a brutal morning not too long ago.

Tons of death threats came from the man who caused his birth along with plenty of aggressive nudges for no apparent reason. His father's voice continued to ring in his ears, 'You don't say a word when we go to court...if you tell the truth you'll go to hell you little mutant!'

Bruce shook from his trance as his father narrowed a deathly stare at his son. Tears formed in Robert's eyes listening to the horrific story of his mother's murder, that he wished he could forget.

The large gentleman in the black uniform addressed the child for what felt like the hundredth time, "Did your mother try to run away?"

Bruce nods his head, trying to speak clearly as his feet nervously rubbed over one another, "Yes."

"And she attempted to leave with you?"

"Yes."

The questioning pauses for a brief moment, "Did your father ever hurt your mother?"

The child felt a warm sensation, then a numbing in his fingers, "No."

"Never?"

Bruce looked down feeling a lump in his throat, "No."

Brian uncrossed his arms, wanting to beat his son senseless as he glanced at his attorney.

The questionnaire continued, "Son, look at me. Did your father ever hurt you?"

He looks up, tears streaming down his cheeks while he shifts uncomfortably in his chair, "No!"

"So, your mother died, running away from your father for no reason?"

He shuts his eyes feeling tense, "Yes." His chest moves rapidly as his heart pounds faster, his shirt scraping ruthlessly against the cuts on his back.

"Robert Banner, you can honestly testify to this fact?" The prosecutor held his head, rephrasing his original statement, "Robert, are you telling the truth?"

Bruce lowers his head, tears continuing to stream down his face. He can't speak, unable to find his voice. The questioner raises his voice slightly, "Robert Banner! Look at me!"

He clasps his hands tighter startled by his statement, "No! I'm not lying!"

"You swear that are telling the truth?"

Bruce shakes his head crying with a little less restraint as his hand quickly rubs the tears away, "Yes."

"Robert Banner, this is a legal matter. You need to be honest."

He chokes out his words throwing his head back, now crying uncontrollably, "I'm not lying!"

The prosecutor sighs heavily, saying more words that go over the young boy's head, "And you-"

"I'm not lying! I'm not-lying!" Holding the sides of his head wanting to curl up and hide from the frustrated voices. He was starting to wish he was dead, shaking while his vision goes completely blury do to nerves...Make it stop!

The words continue, the story is repeated as people start up a mumbling through the auditorium. Brian Banner gives a smirk as he crosses his arms eyes focused on his visibly shaken child.

A slam on the desk puts an end to the long and grueling case pleading the murderer;

Not Guilty.

Chapter Text

Chapter 15

Bruce holds his arms over his face, pushing his back into the corner of the room as far as possible.

He whimpers holding back his tears as his father continuously throws forceful punches all over his small body, "You ruined me Robert! You took away everything that was important to me you monster! Look at me you freak! Stop crying! You are worthless!"

His voice shakes never looking him in the eye, "No Daddy!- Stop! -Ow!-"

Brian showed no intention of stopping or easing up on his attack. His eyes burn red, craving the taste of liquor and some sort of strong alcohol.

Mr. Banner gives a firm hit knocking his son to the ground before freezing in his abuse. He laughs nervously backing up to the door before he yells back, "Don't even think about calling the police Robert, I'll kill you. Say a prayer I don't kill you anyways. I can only listen to you cry for so long you little mutant." He slams the door shut shut without looking back.

Bruce comes to to knees, left alone in the empty and destroyed building otherwise known as home. He grips at his hair feeling a returning headache as his chest feels heavy crackling every time he breathes. As the pain intensifies, he wonders if it will ever disappear. Tears stream down his cheeks as he falls back onto his heels covering his face with his hands. He has no desire to do anything but cry and now that his father is gone, he can.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

"Little jerk couldn't even finish a sentence before it started Niagara Falling over his face!" Brian laughed in a drunken fit smashing his bottle to the ground. He taps the woman behind the counter, "Hit me up with another will ya?"

She glares at him, "I don't know what your ranting about, but I'm certainly ready to throw you out!"

He laughs, "I was in court this morning. Got me off for a lack of evidence."

"Who? Evidence for what?! You look like a murderer."

"Actually, you just mind your business and hit me with whatever is on tap!"

The bar tender rolls her eyes, "You disgust me Banner."

The young man behind the counter raises an eyebrow, upon hearing that name; 'Banner'.

Brian turns around to his drunk companions, "I threatened to beat the hell out of him if he told the truth. You should have been there, worked like a charm."

Laughter insisted. The woman looked at the young man, then back towards Brian. "So the only reason you escaped is from a lack of evidence. You really did kill someone?"

He throws his glass, "What's it to you? Shut up."

She threw her hands up in a surrender.

Brian continues to gloat, "Robert charmed the prosecutor with his tears. Can't believe the judge fell for it. I'm telling you, when I get home, that kid is going to bleed. You'll hear him screaming from here. And guess who got off the hook? Ain't nobody's sending me to some crappy prison."

Mr. Banner stands up leaving his money on the counter before heading for the door.

The young man snaps open his eyes, slamming the table making the connection, Robert! "Bruce Banner!"

The maid whispers, "No, that was Brian."

Demetrius grabs her arms, "How many Banner's do you know around these parts?"

She shrugs her shoulders, "Just him. Why?"

"Then I know Brian's son! He was in the elementary school where I worked- all skittish and distrusting, I knew something was wrong!"

"What's wrong?"

He panics heading for the phone, "Brian obviously killed someone and forced his son to lie in court right? Isn't that what he was ranting about? Well I know his son Robert! The boy was all bruised and beat up two years ago."

"What? You think he's abused?"

"Brian's in here EVERYDAY! Drunk! Can only imagine what he puts him through. Poor kid, hope he's alright. Doesn't he have a mother?.. Damn what's her name...Rebecca! Rebecca Banner! That sweet woman with the dark hair and brown eyes, classy lady. You'd never hear her say a bad word about anyone."

She thinks for a moment, "There was a 'Rebecca Banner' listed under my grandmother's name in the obituary weeks ago,' she pauses, 'You don't think..."

His eyes widen, "Call the cops Lucy! See if you can get Brian's liscience from off him for two seconds so we can look up their address."

"Oh, with pleasure. You don't have to tell me twice. Anything to get that guy off our property."

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Bruce felt a cold chill run up his spine knowing it had been long enough and that soon, his father would come home.

He shakes still sitting on the kitchen floor choosing to shut his eyes and hide in an unreality. His imagination wanders feeling an urge from some unidentified force, almost as if it's a large imagined creature able to convince him to take some sort of action. His forehead burns wrinkling his face in agitation. His breathing pace quickens as he stands up, aggressively smashing a glass left out on the kitchen table. He screams feeling a burning in his throat as he grips back at his head. This was not the first time he'd been given the urge to destroy something and he knew it wouldn't be the last.

That voice returns, urging him to 'smash' something else. He panics feeling his knees about to buckle. Tears stream down his cheek as he reaches for the liquor bottle left out on the table, thrusting it to the floor until it shatters into a million pieces. He whispers the words he's unable to speak, 'I just want Mom back! I don't wanna cry anymore! I just want my Mom!'

He falls back to his knees, grabbing the back of his head as he screams, cheeks turned bright red as the image of his mother flashes on his closed eyelids. Clearly, he can remember every detail of her brutal murder. He yells the top of his voice unsure of where he directs his comment, "I hate you!"

Bruce covers his ears as he notices his father pound open the door. Brian shouts anxious to grip onto Robert's shoulders, ready to throw him again. The kicking persists, the punching resumes, and the screaming and yelling just appears to get louder.

The boy shivers hearing sirens roll down the street, blue and red colors swarm over everything he can see. Mr. Banner shouts, startled as the cops break the door open flooding into the home. Brian releases his son back onto the tile. The boy's head barely misses a pounding on the chair behind him. Bruce feels dizzy wanting to throw up.

The policemen use large words grabbing the murderer without a glance at the child who watches in terror. His father screams, fighting with the police looking at Bruce, "I'll get you for this you little monster! You creature! I'll get you I swear!"

Robert feels a lump in his throat and blood in his mouth. His eyes are open as he watches his father fight with the authorities as he's dragged from the home.

A police woman gently wraps a blanket around Bruce who is unable to respond, neither verbally, nor physically, "We'll take him to the station,' she kneels in front of him, 'What's your name?"

He shuts his eyes speaking through his clenched teeth. His eyebrows are low, beyond upset with the question and with his situation, "Bruce."

She remains stern holding the blanket over him noticing his fresh cuts, "And that is your father?"

He looks down, cheeks flushed from the abuse. Blood and bruises covering over his tiny frame;

"Yes ma'am."

She responds firmly, worried over his appearance. She cups part of the blanket over his mouth when she sees him gag, worried about the blood he's losing;

"Your coming with us. We're going to take you to the hospital."

She reaches out her arm, causing him to tremble as he abruptly tries to pull from her outstretched hand. She sighs heavily grabbing firmly at his wrist;

"Come on Bruce. Let's go."

Chapter Text

Susan Drake would have had some curses to share with the police when they called her home, had Jennifer Walters not been listening. Her mom Elaine had been so overprotective over her growing young lady. Morris had offered without delay to drive his wife, Jennifer and Susan to pick up Robert Banner from the hospital.

Plenty of arguments arouse in the vehicle, debating on what was to become of him, Brian, and what had happened to Rebecca. Elaine was quite tearful regretfully remembering she hadn't been there for her funeral. Susan could care less, remembering that she and her husband Mike had no intention of even attending. There were words shared between the adults that flew over the head of Jennifer who was content in the backseat amused by her doll.

It had been years since she had seen her cousin or her Uncle Brian. She was a simple girl, preferring the company of things rather then people. Jennifer generally disliked the company of other young girls her age and felt awkward around them. School was taking time to adjust to, though she had made one friend in particular, David, whom she would barely speak to. Jennifer had little interest in 'meeting' another child, even if it was her cousin.

She barely remembered her Aunt Rebecca, mostly as a kind and loving person that she'd deeply miss. She had seen Uncle Mike and Aunt Susan more often then she wanted to, at least once a month. And they never changed. Always arguing, always screaming, always complaining, while she covered herself with an overload of eyeliner and makeup.

Elaine turned towards her husband tearfully, "Morris, if Brian does get arrested, maybe we should think about taking Robert."

Morris releases a sigh, "Elaine, please! Don't even start that. I like the kid, you know I do. But we have Jennifer and she's enough to handle."

She persists in a whisper, "But I really think that we should just consider it."

"No Elaine. Don't ask me again."

She taps the back of her short blonde hair, "Morris, just think about it. At least until things get settled."

Susan snaps her gum from the back seat picking at her nails, "Elaine, this isn't getting fixed. Brian's going to a mental home for the rest of his life and I'm not taking the boy."

She taps her husband, "Morris please!"

He tries not to raise his voice, "Please Elaine I'm driving! And I said no! And no means no!"

She turns around to face Susan, "I feel bad Susan. You have enough going on with Mike."

She widens her eyes, "Now wait a minute! Are you suggesting I take the little- thing?"

Elaine opens her mouth slightly horrified, "Robert has no place else to go."

"I know, but seriously?"

She sighs, "Please Susan. For Rebecca. You must have known this was coming."

Susan thinks for a moment, "I did, but I didn't think it would be now! Do I look like I can put up with that kid? He's a boy! What am I supposed to do with a little boy?! And I don't have the time or money."

Elaine turns back to face front glaring at Morris. She mumbles tugging at her shirt, "She could lose some of that makeup. It takes time to look like the bloody ghost of Christmas Past."

Morris gives a smile as he pulls into the parking lot of the hospital;

"Come on Susan. Think about everything Brian's done for you. The least you could do is take Robert. And he's a good kid."

She snorts, "He's Brian's son."

Elaine glares at her as the car parks. They jump out each one to their respective doors. Jennifer steps out holding her father's hand as they enter the hospital politely requesting the location of their family members. As the lady gives directions, they head up in the elevator and down the halls for the room.

Bruce lays in the bed covered in bruises and surrounded by three cops awaiting the arrival of his family.

The police woman introduces herself getting straight to business, "Brian Banner has been imprisoned though we are considering him to be mentally unstable."

Susan chimes in still snapping her gum, "Figures. I'm not surprised."

Elaine brushes her off, "I'm sorry, Miss. Please continue."

The lady ignores the interruption, "Can I see your ID's. Drivers license is fine."

The reach in their pockets for their identification. Susan mumbles, "Seriously?"

She sternly replies, "Miss, this is a legal matter I need to make sure that you are who you say you are. Thank you Mrs. Walters. Thank you Mr. Walters. Ma'am?"

Susan sarcastically hands her ID to the woman who studies it, "Thank you Mrs. Drake. Now which one of you is responsible for the child?"

Elaine tries one more time, glancing over at Morris who sternly shakes his head 'no'.

Susan closes her eyes before speaking up, "Me. I am."

The lady motions for her to follow, "Follow me please ma'am. We have a lot of paper work to fill out."

Elaine watches as the two exit the room before glancing back at Bruce. She slowly steps to his bedside whispering with a smile on her face, "Robert? do you remember me?"

He narrows the focus of his tearful brown eyes, visibly shaken over whatever he's been put through; 

"Aunt Elaine?"

She gently reaches over with the intention of brushing his lock from off his forehead. He shuts his eyes withdrawing as far as he could without falling off of his bed;

"Don't touch me!"

She quickly pulls away startled by his response, picking up on his fear and natural distrust; 

"Sweet-heart. It's okay. It's alright. No one's going to hurt you."

His body freezes, recognizes the tenderness of her words. His eyes open a little wider before feeling an emotional pain in his heart. He aches realizing that it is not her.

His Uncle smiles stepping forward with Jennifer underneath him, "Hey kiddo. Remember me? And Jennifer?"

Bruce expresses no emotion still recovering from the false alarm, "No. I mean yes. Jenn-Jennifer. Uncle Morris."

Jennifer focuses on him unable to bridle her tongue, refering to his cuts and bruises, "You look bad. Like a car hit you."

Morris taps her shoulder whispering, "Jenn! Knock it off."

She looks up at her father, "But Daddy, it's true. I'm not going to lie."

The two other cops, still in the room, laugh at her outspoken attitude. nudging each other and whispering about her pretty hair and eyes.

Elaine tilts her head sympathetically, eyeing her husband from across the room when she mouths, "Please?"

Morris shakes his head, eyes wide, "No."

"But Susan and Mike aren't stable enough for him-"

"I don't want him Elaine! Don't ask me again!"

Susan returns after a while holding papers and rolling her eyes at Elaine.

The police woman stands behind a nurse who authorizes a discharge on the patient. She looks at the group, "Which one of you is responsible for Robert?"

Susan growls, "Oh my God! Must you people shove this in my face!?"

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Jennifer curiously follows her father as he carries Bruce up the stairs and into the home of Susan Drake. She points shoving things from her way;

"Here. Robert can stay in the guest room. I've got no place else to put it- uh, him."

Gently, Morris lays the wounded and exhausted boy on his bed as Jennifer places his glasses on the night table beside him. Morris shakes his head;

"Poor kid."

His wife gives him a look, disgusted when he shakes his head 'no', dragging Jennifer out of the room beside him.

The room was clean, but not to Susan's liking as she threw his small bag onto the ground growling with complete discontent.

Elaine laid some of his books on the dresser before unpacking his clothes. She whispers to her sister, "This is sad. He doesn't have anything."

Susan removes a picture from his small backpack gently handing it to Elaine, "Look; It's Rebecca. You want it? I'll throw it out."

She panicks, "No! Don't! Please Susan, it's all he has left of his mother. Have a heart!"

Her sister shrugs her shoulders giving up on the unpacking and returning down stairs. Elaine sighs heavily looking at the photograph. Poor Rebecca. She looked so sad as she held her small child so close to her. She would have never wanted him to go through any of this. Elaine decided to leave it on his dresser and let Bruce decide where to put it when he woke from his well deserved nap.

She stands up, and quietly looks at the boy after her husband and daughter headed back downstairs. He stayed curled up in a fetal position, still shaking uncontrollably. From his whimpering, she could tell he was either having a bad dream, or recalling some awful past experience. She reaches over pulling up a blanket over his small body, hoping one day he'd trust her enough to view her as a mother no matter how far away she lived from him.

His eyes flutter slightly, voice cracking when he covers his face, "Please don't yell at me! Don't touch me! Don't hit me!"

She stays close but remembers not to touch him, no matter how hard it is not to scoop her fragile nephew into her arms;

"Shh, it's alright sweet-heart. Your safe. I would never hurt you Robert."

Chapter Text

Jennifer tip-toed up the stairs, eager to break away from all the adult talk concerning her Uncle Mike and Aunt Susan. She took deep quiet breaths as she headed towards the guest room curious about her cousin.

They closest they had ever gotten to a formal introduction was when Bruce and Rebecca came to visit her after she was born. And Jennifer wouldn't remember that anyways.

It wasn't long before she reached the door peeking through the crack before inviting herself in. She bit her bottom lip as she snuck quietly to his bedside anxious for him to wake up, or was he awake? She couldn't tell for sure, being that the blanket was over his head and there was quite a bit of movement and whimpering under the sheets.

She carefully reached her hand over the comforter mouth open as she brushed her tongue over the roof of her mouth. Once she saw his big brown eyes, he screamed in a panic covering over his face with his hands, then she screamed falling backwards onto the floor. Jennifer's eyes widen as she bites the side of her forefinger and thumb. He glances over, nervously trying to decide what she wanted, "Jennifer?"

She mumbles coming up to her feet, "Hi?"

He remains in his curled up position hands held over his knees as he watches her from the side. His eyes shut as he pulls his head in;

"Don't touch me! Don't hit me!"

Jennifer lowers her eyebrows, "Seriously? You think I'm going to hit you or something? Why?"

Bruce glances around the room. The only thing he knows about other children is that they poke him, punch him, and make fun of him. He stutters;

"You're- not going to hurt me?"

She crosses her arms, picking up mannerisms from her father, "Duh!? Why would I hit you? We're cousins right?"

He lowers his eyebrows with slight confusion;

"I guess."

Jennifer shrugs her shoulders, "Yes we are. Your Dad is my mom's brother. Wait, are you going to hide in there all day? Why are you crying?"

He clenches his teeth hiding in his pillow when she mentions his father. He pulls from her feeling threatened already;

"Go away!"

She tilts her head to the side to resemble Bruce's, ignoring his defensive nature, "Are you always this cranky? You've got a bruise over your eye."

Bruce covers his head and face with his arms when his voice raises in a panic;

"Leave me alone!" He waits, feeling bad about yelling at his cousin. He trembles as he whispers almost apologetically, "Please."

She remains unphased by his reaction to her, "You know, smiling always makes things better."

He mumbles still under his hands, "It doesn't work for me Jennifer."

She rolls her eyes, "Have you tried it?"

"I- I don't want to."

"It works. Trust me."

He throws his face into the pillow. He couldn't remember the last time he smiled; 

"Please go away Jennifer."

She persists holding her hands behind her back as she leans forward, "Robert?"

He mumbles still feeling guilty for shouting at her, "It's 'Bruce'. I like 'Bruce' better."

Jennifer raises an eyebrow, parking herself on the floor, "Bruce? Okay Bruce, I'm going to think of something, and you can tell me what I'm thinking of, alright? So. I'm thinking of something, golden, and bright, and warm, and its outside,' she waits, 'Guess!"

He fights under the blanket, submerged in his own sorrows and agony still trying to figure out where he is. He knows he won't be able to get rid of the little girl who won't stop talking and his cousin had intention of leaving her new friend. Surprisingly, Jenn felt comfortable around him, despite his displaying a standoffish personality.

She breathes heavy expressing her exasperation, "Oh come on Bruce! That one was easy! Okay, let's do another one; Okay, I'm thinking of something small, and brown, and they wag their tails...Bruce? Any ideas?...Oh come on! It's a dog! Just guess!"

He growls sitting up to face her with tears in his eyes, "Jennifer! Please! I don't feel like playing with you! Just go away and leave me alone!"

She tugs on her cheeks, "Ugh! I'm not going downstairs! It's boring! You're my age, yes? I'm five."

Bruce sighs again collapsing back onto the pillow, "8."

"Eight what? Oh! You're 8? Cool."

His eyelids close as his body begs to shut down with his breathing slowing steadily. She jumps onto his bed and without hesitating, climbs over him and grabs his shoulders;

"Hey, you've been sleeping all morning!"

He releases a small yelp not appreciating her attack on his sore frame. His body fumbles out of the bed and onto the floor in his mad dash to break free from her gentle grip. He's trembling from her grabbing, reliving some torment from the past.

Jennifer covers her mouth looking down at him from on top of the bed, "Bruce? Are you okay?"

The boy scrambles to his knees and holds his head with his eyes shut tight. That voice is still ringing clearly in his mind urging him to smash something. His own voice cracks unsure of what he wants, who he is, and why he's here;

"No!"

She carefully climbs off the bed, kneeling onto the ground at his level. She widens her eyes, nervous as to why he's crying and yelling. She talks at a normal level remaining calm;

"It's okay. Don't cry."

"I'm no crying!" He reaches over in a frantic motion, smashing the water-glass left out on the night table.

She jumps at his reckless action, "Oh Jiminy Cricket!"

She covers her head wondering if he'll throw something else. Jennifer contemplates calling her father, but she also knows if the adults downstairs haven't heard anything by now, they won't hear her scream. Instead she tries to reason the best way she can, "Uh, Bruce? Why did you break that?"

He growls gripping back at his head as he kneels back to the ground, "I don't know Jennifer...I- I felt like it I guess."

She widens her eyes, "Why?"

He sighs, struggling to sort through his mess of emotions, "I don't know."

"Well, it didn't do anything to you."

He snaps, wishing she'd stop trying to correct him, "I don't care!"

Jennifer thinks for a moment, "Do you break things often? I mean, as long as you don't throw it at me, I don't mind."

He throws his head back in frustration remaining quiet. As he regains control, his mind refocuses back to his physical pain. He winces, looking down to see the scars on his inner arms. His hands feel over his aching torso before he curls up tightly, wishing there were some place to just hide from the rest of humanity.

Jennifer reaches over him taking a book from off the night table. She sits beside him outwardly expressing that she's not afraid, even if he did decide to throw something else. She skims through the book, then nudges him gently. He flinches, eyes wide in her direction;

"Bruce? What is physics?"

He gives her an answer in a calmed voice, still curled up in a ball, "Matter and energy."

She studies the complex book with no pictures, wondering why he had it in the first place. - Why would he be reading this?- "What's energy?"

He answers her, with his head rested on his forearms, "Heat and work."

"What's matter?"

"A substance that occupies space."

She thinks for a moment, "Do you like science? And like, can you fix things?"

He nods, trying to be more polite with her as an apology. Her eyes widen as she gives him a smile, "Wait right here! I'll be right back!"

She jumps up running from the room, her mind on that small model she couldn't finish. As she returns she hands him her small creation;

"Everything but the lights work."

He carefully examines it, before giving up and reaching for his glasses left out on the table. As he sits back in his spot she leans over his shoulder to watch him work. His small fingers fiddle with the wires in the small openings of the complex design, "You made this?"

She shakes her head, "Me and my Dad."

Before she can finish her statement, he flips the tiny switch and illuminates her small model. She smiles in surprise, "That was fast. Daddy said it was broken."

He hands it back to her, "It wasn't broken, you guys just mismatched a few wires."

She nods, uninterested in the complete explanation he was ready to offer. Jennifer looks up at her cousin still confused by his open gashes and bruises. She points;

"Um, do they hurt?"

He nods, answering her softly, "A little. Why?"

She continues, already on a different topic, "So, why do Mommy and Daddy call you Robert? You just like Bruce better? What's your real name?"

He sighs, not wanting to talk about himself. He just liked Bruce better since that was the name his mother would call him. 'Robert' just reminded him of his father and he hated it. Still, he knows he's been rude to her, so the least he could do is answer her questions. Jennifer wasn't so bad after all. As long as she didn't jump on him, or try to grab him, they could got along fine, "Technically it's, Robert Bruce Banner. I like 'Bruce'."

Jennifer holds out her hand as if to give a handshake, "Jennifer Susan Walters. I like Jenn, or Jennifer. Nice to meet you cousin."

He looks down, avoiding any physical contact, "I'm sorry I yelled at you, and threw things. I wasn't thinking I guess. Will you forgive me Jenn? Can we start over?"

She waves her hand with a chuckle, "Heck yeah and it's all good. I like you Bruce."

The children look up hearing a knock on the door frame. Morris gives a smile at his daughter before addressing Bruce, "Hey Robert, how you feeling?"

Bruce glances at Jennifer. Just seeing her warm smile and friendly disposition gave him something to refocus on. He gives a quick smirk looking up at his Uncle;

"Better."

Morris just keeps his smile, "Jenny girl, get ready we're going to head out in a few minutes."

"Okay Dad. Oh! Bruce fixed the model for us!" She holds it up for him to see.

Her father thinks for a moment, "Oh cool. Wait, how?"

Jennifer runs her mouth without giving her cousin a chance, "Bruce said that the wires were messed up. We mismatched them."

Morris scratches the back of his head unsure of what he could've done wrong. The model had to be simpler then he thought. He felt like an idiot;

-Oh great! Even the kid could figure it out! Wait, it's Brian's kid...Why was he surprised?-

Chapter Text

"Just go outside Robert! I told you a million times- just- ugh! I think Mr. Drake is home. Go outside and stay away from us."

He holds his arms, stuck in an oversized sweater as he listens to his Aunt Susan, or, as she made clear, 'Mrs. Drake.' Bruce lowers his head still readjusting to his new 'home' and caregivers. He whispers as he clutches his book, not wanting her to be upset with him;

"I'm sorry Mrs. Drake. I won't make gadgets in my room anymore."

She sighs readjusting her large ring on her finger, replying in a firm but quiet way,;

"Go outside and avoid the neighbors,' she reaches forward stealing his book from him before holding open the door, 'And will you stop reading and start playing like a normal child?! Jeez! No wonder Mr. Drake doesn't like you! Maybe if you were normal you'd win him over."

He calmly heads into the backyard, determine to create some sort of escape; namely, in that abandoned shed his family members had stopped using years ago. The only place where he can create, read, invent, and not be told he can't. The only place where he doesn't have to hear Mr. and Mrs. Drake violently argue, carelessly using words Bruce's mother would have covered his ears for.

Mr. Drake would just simply ignore him whenever he was around. Barely even looked at him if their paths collided. There was that one time he gave him a quick smie, but he had to have been drunk because it never happened again. The closest thing Bruce had to a role model was his Uncle Morris who wasn't the most normal person in his eyes. Morris would be quick to offense if Bruce didn't want to talk to him or didn't want to linger in his company. Morris Walters just couldn't understand why he wouldn't be up for a game of catch or talk to him without a look of pure suspicion. The child was just still extremely weary of adults no matter who they were; and who could blame him?

He's not always alone when he goes into that shed. There's that 'friend' of his who comes out every now and then usually when he's on the verge of 'smashing' some confounded contraption. He doesn't talk much, but sometimes his presence is good enough to rid that lonely and abandoned feeling Bruce feelings more often that not. No one else can see him or hear him, in fact, he tends to avoid all other adults and children altogether. Even when he tried 'introducing him' to Jennifer, it didn't go well. She just looked at him like he had two heads, asking if he lost his mind. She looked extremely concerned for her cousin, slowly backing out of the shed while she attempted to make sense of his active imagination.

His first day at the new school couldn't have gone worse; Being called awful nicknames for the healing bruises, scars,  oversized/undersized clothes, and glasses. Teachers did nothing, barely taking note of the quiet dark haired boy in the corner who managed to ace every exam no matter what.

As long as he could get out of the house, hide in the shed, and create a few gadgets, Bruce Banner was somewhat content during the day.

Yet once the sun went down and the yelling started up between Aunt and Uncle, any peace left within the home was gone. He'd shut his door, cover his ears with the pillow, 'escaping' from the caregivers who didn't know how to handle children. Every other night ended in mental anguish; upset over what some classmate said or did, bitter memories of his father's abuse, or even wishing he could have his mom back for one more day. Even an imaginary friend, no matter how real he seemed, couldn't fix that sort of emptiness.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . .

1 Years Later...

"Alright kid, come on get up,' Susan nudges him gently, running to open the blinds, 'Let's go! I can't leave the house until you leave and if you make me miss my sale-"

Bruce mumbles throwing his pillow, stuck in a groggy haze as he wakes from another nightmare. He trembling and raising his voice in fear when she tries to grab him;

"Don't touch me!"

She raises her voice without any hint of compassion, "Don't yell at me! Get up!"

He wrinkles his nose at the stong smell of her perfume at 6:30 in the morning, slow to touch his bare feet on the floor. Susan holds her hands on her hips, holding her nail polish in her clenched fist;

"Will you move it already?"

He growls, breathing harder every time his eyes close. That image of his mother's wounded body burning in his mind, hearing her scream throughout most of his nightmare while his father tortured them. -Susan is my Dad's sister!- His dark lock falls onto his forehead, running to the bathroom to hide from her.

She gasps at his weak nudge to get past her, shocked because she knows he's never done anything like that before, "Robert Banner! Don't you ever nudge me again! Robert!" His aunt runs to the door in a panic, -Locked!- She pulls away, glancing at her fingers as she whispers, "Oh! Heaven help you child! You chipped my nail!"

He mumbles from inside the bathroom, sitting up against the door, "Please leave me alone."

She answers back heading for her room, "Fine! Keys are under the mat. Bring them because I'll be home late. When you get home I have a list of things that need to be fixed and cleaned on the kitchen table as usual. Do them before Morris gets back."

He talks back in a sarcastic tone, "Fine!"

She snickers, "Fine. I'll see you later."

Bruce shuts his eyes, body trembling. He doesn't want to create, he doesn't even feel like reading either. All he cares about is hiding from a world that has shown him nothing but grief, pain, and anguish. He reaches to he side, fiddling with the pealing wallpaper.

He listens as the front door closes, concealing him inside an empty house. Bruce knows he should go to school, but what for? To get pushed to the ground? Books stole from you? To get poked and made fun of? Sure, he liked learning, but his classmates made the experience a complete hell. He felt guilty not going even if he wouldn't walk away with anything life altering. His conscience had started to bother him for 'nudging' his Aunt, and now, contemplating skipping school was out of the question. His father was right, he was going to hell. He knew he better 'move it' and walk himself to that stupid elementary school. Why couldn't he be like Steve Rogers? A thin youth turned into a hero; big, brave, and strong enough to protect everyone important to him. Did he need some dumb super-serum to make a difference? Apparently.

Chapter Text

"Banner! Say something! You're just going to keep walking?"

Bruce kept his head low, ignoring the taunts of that bully who followed him everywhere. Aparently being the smartes in the class didn't earn the respect of anyone any more. His foot clashed into another, a group of voices lingering around him. He clenches his teeth, elbow sore from his crash onto the tile.

"Watch it twirp!"

"He's blind even with his glasses!"

"He's too scared to defend himself."

"He's too weak to defend himself!"

He breathes heavy the instant he hears their laughter...they called him a freak, they called him weak...And he feels another punch the instant he scrambles to his feet. The 'giant' is standing over him, threatening to kick him if he doesn't move. His head aches from the attack, squirming to avoid further conflict.

"Hey jerk! Come here you freak! Why are you running?"

He holds his head heart burning with an increase of tension. Bruce instinctively searches for some sort of shadow when he runs for the exit. His mind too focused on finding some imaginary comforter to realize the blood forming on his lip and elbow. Or the bruise forming on his cheek and abdomen. Out the door, down the steps of the Middle School; He looks up towards the sky through his scuffed up glasses. He peers through the dark clouds gripping his curls as he whispers with more anger then sadness, -'Why am I here?'

Bruce takes off in a mad dash the instant he hears that boy and his friends exit the school behind him;

"Robert! Running home to your mother?!"

"Robert! You're such an idiot!"

His feet take off moving faster then he's ever run before, never once giving a backward glance. His eyes fill with a burning sense of heated revenge and agitation. His mind running in a million different directions as he thinks about his father, about the bullies, and about himself. 

He hates feeling weak, stupid, and unable to defend himself.

He knew he'd be alone once he got home, at least he could hide in the shed until Mrs. Drake arrived and dragged him inside. His voice is a low, repeatedly mumbling as he heads down his block, "I hate you!"

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

"Nobody understands me, nobody bothers to talk to me, they just kick me. Daniel pushed me down the stairs after math today. Sierra's too busy laughing at it to tell him to stop. She thinks it's funny when he kicks me. And punches me. And leaves me bleeding." Bruce is parked in the shed, pealing a wire apart with some tools Mr. Drake hadn't touched in years. 'The hulk' was a good listener. He never cut Bruce off, or threw in his own two cents until he was finished.

"Idealy, I need Acetone and Hydrogen peroxide, wait." He tosses his creation onto the floor of the shed searching through his box of 'gadgets'.

"Justin thinks he can push me and cut me up. Look at this 'hulk'; I've got a cut on my elbow too." He points to his lip, tasting his own blood as he reached for a towel within his equipment.

"Stupid! Plain stupid! Hulk! I hate life!" -Smash!.

His jar explodes a smoking chemical within the shed. Another failure. His glasses steam as he curses under his breath, "Damn!" He knew his mother would never approve of such talk. But now...what was the difference? Bruce had heard a lot worse coming out from Susan's mouth on a daily basis anyway. He was frustrated! His schoolmates needed to be punished for torturing him, pushing him, cutting him. Bruce had enough and the bomb was going to be an escape. He frankly didn't care if he went up with everyone else in the school, concluding that hell might actually be an improvement from his current life.

. . .

"Robert! Get in the house! Elaine, Morris, and Jennifer are here and I'm not about to get another lecture about care-taking because you want to sit out in the rain!"

-I'm not in the rain!- Bruce stuck his tongue out, knowing that from inside the shed, his aunt wouldn't see it anyway. Destruction and revenge were a lot more important then babysitting Jenn for a few hours. He felt bitter, angry, and a desparate need for solitude.

He breathes a heavy sigh, immediately regretting being so fresh. Even if she didn't see or hear him, it was rude and the thought should have never entered his mind. Aunt Susan was wierd, but at least she didn't hit him. He reached in his pocket to return the key he borrowed from under the mat. He looks up at his 'friend';

"Well, thanks for listening hulk. I'll see you later."

He heard her voice calling, "Robert! Get inside now! I won't ask again! Do you want to be punished?"

He sighs, closing the shed with a lock he invented, "I'm coming."

"Mrs..."

He rolls his eyes, "Mrs. Drake."

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Formal greetings were quick being that Elaine panicked the instant she saw his bleeding lip and bruised cheek, "Robert, are you okay?"

He pulls away from her trying to remain respectful, "I'm fine Aunt Elaine."

Morris crosses his arms glaring at Susan, "Who cut his lip Sue."

Mrs. Drake reaches for the boy, turning his face towards hers. She's rough with him when she tugs at his arms and forces his chin up;

"Robert! Look at me and tell me how that happened!"

Bruce tugs from her grip, overwhelmed with contact he's not used to and doesn't appreciate;

"Don't touch me! I fell in school. I'm fine, just. I want to be alone."

Elaine covers her mouth, wanting so badly to wrap her fragile nephew in her arms, "Sweetheart..."

"Robert Banner!" Susan is ready to lunge forward out of frustration without thinking twice, ready to lift a fist in his direction.

He breathes heavy, hating all the eyes currently focused on him. He hides his face in his arms as he quickly backs into the corner, afraid of his Aunt Susan's next move while he stands trembling;

"Don't hit me!"

Jen's eyes widen when her mother panics, "Susan stop!"

Her sister grinds her teeth, trying hard not to beat the young Banner in front of her;

"You're driving me insane Robert! Talk! What the hell happened in school! Tell me!"

Morris drops his arms and heads to the opposite end of the room; 

"Just leave him alone, you're going to scare him."

Bruce grinds his teeth, trying to sound tougher then he feels, "I'm not scared!"

Elaine closes her eyes, hating the way her sister treats the child. She lays a hand on Susan's shoulder while she addresses Bruce;

"Easy, just calm down honey. We're not going to hurt you. Are you okay?"

"I'm fine."

Mike Drake enters the living room, eyebrows low, "Sue! I'm hungry! Did you cook or didn't you?"

Susan throws her hands into the air storming towards the kitchen, "Damn you! Damn you to hell Mike! You come home and demand things from me!"

"Sue! You didn't even tell me you were having company!"

"I told you! You were drunk."

"Whatever."

Morris holds his head glancing over the situation. Elaine breathes heavy, eyes piercing towards her husband who remained firm. He knew what she was thinking, still regretful over the fact that they left Bruce to the Drakes. His wife widens her stare as if to ask one more time. Morris shakes his head as he whispers, "No."

She whispers in his ear, worried about the small child, "Morris! Why not? He's unhappy! And Susan has no idea how to handle him!"

"Jennifer's enough to deal with! Rob's a good kid, I like him, but something's wrong with him and I don't want to get involved."

Elaine exhales with nothing but frustration, crossing her arms when she tries again, "Morris! Can't you see he needs a little help, a little guidance!? Love and affection! Susan's not going to answer his questions or dry his tears-!"

"I'm not taking him and that's final! I don't mind seeing him once in a while, you know I care about the boy and I love him dearly but I can't adopt him! I don't want him for a son!"

Susan smirks sarcastically when she sees them argue, "Dinner's ready."

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

All the tension seemed to ease up a little once they quietly sat around the table, Jennifer making certain to park herself beside her cousin, practically on her cousin when she took up half his chair. Morris would occasional spit out a joke, only for his daughter to be the only one who understood it and laughed. His wife would throw a glance in his direction, urging him to watch Susan and Mike silently nudge and growl at one another out of frustration.

Bruce nibbled on his plate, one hand holding his head as he threw scraps into his lap. Mike slightly raised his voice eyeing the boy, "You're not still feeding that dumb cat are you?"

He shakes his head remaining vague, "No, I'm not feeding that cat."

Mike nods content with his answer, "You gonna fix my alarm clock?"

Bruce gives a heavy sigh before getting up from the table, "Yep."

Susan tosses her hair over her shoulder, "Robert! Sit down and eat!"

He just mumbles, "I'm not hungry."

"Fine. Don't ask me for anything later."

He rolls his eyes heading for the back door, "I never do."

Elaine tilts her head compassionately, trying to talk with him, "Honey, do you want something else? I'll make it for you."

He shakes his head, giving her a polite glance before walking out the back door with his head bowed low, "No thank you."

Jennifer whispers to her father, "Dad! Can I go with Bruce? Please? I ate my vegetables."

Morris widens his eyes with a smile on his face, "Yeah sure, why not? Stay out of trouble princess."

His wife shakes her head, dabbing her fork over the undercooked food she'd never even think about serving her family. hiding her face in her open palms when Mike stands up to yell at Susan in another temper tantrum.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Jennifer lingered behind her cousin bent over on his knees as he fed a few scraps of a roll to some stray orange kitten underneath the shed. She narrows her focus and crosses her arms, "Hm mm. And what would Uncle Mike say about that Bruce?"

He sarcastically glances over his shoulder, "It's not that cat, it's her baby."

Jennifer releases a squeal of excitement, "Aww! Can I feed her?"

He holds a forefinger over his lips for her to keep quiet about it. Lightly he taps the wet grass for her to sit next to him handing her pieces of the roll;

"Here. Open your hand so he can nibble."

She follows his instructions, holding her hand under his small mouth. She chuckles when the kitten licks her hand for crumbs, "Where's the mommy?"

Bruce pets the kittens head, smirking when he hears her laugh, "She used to live under here. I think she died...or ran off or...something."

Jennifer copies him after he's done, petting the head of the kitten, "Where's her daddy?"

He shrugs, "I don't know. And why do you keep calling it a 'she'?"

"I think it's a girl. Is it a girl? What does it do?"

He smiles leaning back on his hands, "I don't know. It just stays under there. I think it's too little to go anywhere yet."

She lowers her head to peer under the shed making gentle noises as it purred enjoying her touch, "I think she likes me. What's her name?"

Bruce shrugs his shoulders, "I didn't name it."

"Can I?"

He nods, "Yeah sure."

"If it's a girl, I want to name it Katie."

"Why?"

"Just because. And if it's a boy, I think we should call him Tiger because of the stripes on his back."

He smirked trying not to laugh at her high squeaky voice when she got excited about something, "Okay Jennifer, whatever you say."

She scoots closer to him until their shoulders rub, pointing up at the stars;

"Can I tell you a secret?"

He lifts his eyebrows, pulling a centimeter away from her, "Sure."

Jennifer pouts over his moving her from off him before she whispers, "I drew on Aunt Susan's wall. With a marker. On purpose. Signed my name and everything."

Bruce widens his eyes, worried for her sake, "Jenn! She's going to kill you!"

She shrugs, laughing it off, "I told Daddy. He laughed. We don't like her very much."

Her cousin just shakes his head with a chuckle, "You're...crazy."

She tilts her head, leaning forward to see his face, "Ob-vious-ly."

Jennifer chuckles, scrunching her face to get him to laugh. She tries at least three more before he loses it, smiling and giggling for the first time in a long while.

Chapter Text

Bruce was pretty sure that kitten under the shed was bored of random table scraps, even though 'Tiger' never complained otherwise.

Apparently 'Hulk' was too lazy to feed or play with the striped tammy, so Bruce would just give him what ever he could find. A few scraps before entering the shed, and a quick pat over the little guy's head as he left. A soft purr usually ensured Bruce that the kitten was content in his little bed both he and Jenn left readily available for 'Tiger'.

The young boy was in his room, holding an icy compress over his left eye from the latest punch. It was hard to do his homework without his glasses and using only one eye, but it had to be done. He'd take an occasional breather to clam down when he was on the verge of screaming out of pure frustration.

Susan pushed his door open holding a book in her arms. Her tone is far from comforting but it's not too cross either. She's busy playing with her hair as she talks to him;

"I was at that 'parent-teacher' crap this afternoon."

He barely moans, not in the mood to hear her complain, "Hm mm."

"How come you don't participate in school? The teacher says you just sit there."

He shrugs his shoulders, still mulling over that third push down the stairs and that punch into the lockers. The words his classmates shouted today were borderline disturbing. Bruce could still hear Daniel's laughter ringing in the back of his head. He sighs, remaining polite when he answers his aunt;

"I don't know Mrs. Drake."

She releases an exasperated sigh taking the compress from off of him as she roughly lifts his chin up, "What is wrong with you?!"

Bruce remains calm, breathing deeply before he repeats himself in a softer tone, "I don't know."

Susan presses a finger into his bruise, rougher then Bruce is used to. He hates how long she keeps her nails, constantly digging into his cuts and bruises;

"Robert, just hold still. How did this happen?"

He omits the details, "I fell."

"You're so clumsy."

He stays still, breathing through his teeth as she runs her long nails his cuts. She pulls away when he starts to tremble. She hands him the new book in her arms, apparently trying to 'make up' for her needless forceful treatement only moments earlier;

"From your Aunt Elaine. She remembered you like physics."

Bruce casually points to his eye as he leans back in the chair, "It's a little hard to read with one eye Mrs. Drake."

She crosses her arms sarcastically, "Well, how about that. Maybe it would force you to actually run around a bit like a normal child. How come you don't mingle with the other children in school?"

He lifts his pencil returning to his math. She persists giving that questioning 'hum', "Robert."

"I don't know." He sighs returning that compress over his face.

Susan throws her arms up rolling her eyes behind his view, "Robert, I'm not getting another damn lecture from your Uncle Morris and Aunt Elaine just because you want to give me a hard time. Look at me!"

He's startled when she grabs him, heart pounding quickly. He raises his voice a bit in reply to her, eyes tearful as he drops his pencil;

"Mom!"

Her eyes widen, he freezes. His throat thickens as his mind runs away into some corner of the imagination. He saw her every night in every dream and every nightmare. He needed her, stuck with those awful vivid memories that would haunt him forever. He swallows har with his head pounding. Remember that three letter word hasn't slipped from his mouth since he was eight years old.

Mrs. Drake narrows her focus and lowers her eyebrows as if he just swore to her, "What did you call me?!"

Bruce runs his fingers through his hair his heart thumping a mile a minute, "I'm sorry Mrs. Drake."

"Yeah,' she drops her arms clenching her teeth, 'I'll give you a roof over your head and clothes on your back, but I am not your mother. Do you think I took you in because I care?! Do you?!"

He shakes his head biting on his lower lip as he whispers, "No." I know you don't care, nobody cares.

"Straighten up Robert, I'm not going to be housing some freak of nature. Just because you ace academically doesn't mean you're worth- Look, there's book smart and there's street smart. I suggest you pay a little more attention to the latter. And don't you ever call me your mother again."

He trembles when he hears that door slam behind her grand exit. Bruce clenches his teeth tears ready to stream down his face. He flies face first into his bed, his face thrown into his pillow as he explodes. All the tears that have been bottled up from long enough come pouring down his face as he whispers in a shuddering breath...

"...Why?"

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Bruce jumps when his Uncle Mike comes storming over to him, aggressively knocking a book from his grip before growing with his focus downward;

"You didn't finish your list. Bulbs need to be changed in my office. And the lights keep flickering in the bathroom."

Banner takes a deep breath, tapping his lip to see if the blood is gone from his punch at school. He sighs before answering;

"I did the office already. I tried to fix the wires-"

He grumbles, already walking away before Bruce is finished, "I don't care."

The boy contorts his mouth, leaning over to pick up his book while he adjusts his glasses. That had to be the most Mike had ever spoken to him personally. He shakes his head, running up the stairs to hide in his room. He should've known sitting in the den was a mistake, even if he was tired of his same four walls. Susan sarcastically waves a screwdriver in his face, eyes widening when Bruce doesn't see her;

"Hello..."

He sighs, taking it from her hand, "Sorry, I didn't see you."

She sighs dramatically, voice raising progressively as she heads down the stairs;

"Yeah well, wake up Robert, you're completely useless- Mike get the hell out of my way!"

Bruce closes his eyes when he hears glass hit the tile, frantic to hide in the office. He closes the door behind him, tossing the screwdriver before getting a good look at the bulbs he just change. There was nothing wrong with them, but if double-checking woul keep his uncle quiet, he'd do it.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Yesterday, after dealing with that brutal attack, he decided he had had been through enough. Daniel was at it again, this time avoiding catching any of the teachers attention with his mutely crew. A trip in the hallway lead to plenty of punches in the stomach, broken glasses, a slap in the face and a series of hurtful words was enough to send Bruce back into his revengeful hell.

5 days locked in that shed was enough to create a time bomb, one that could potentially destroy the school. Bruce felt dark, upset and discontent during that week. He even resulted to throwing out that book on his hero, Steve Rogers.

What was the point of dreaming? He would never be this scrouny youth turned into something strong enough to protect those he loved. And keeping that image in front of his face only made him hurt more.

Susan opens his door, handing him a house key, "I won't be home when you get home because there's a sale this week. Can I leave you home alone or will you burn the place down?"

He just nods respectfully, mind on his dark revenge. It wouldn't matter since he would live to come home anyway; "Yes Mrs. Drake, that's fine."

She holds her head leaning in the door frame, "'Miss Susan'. I'm tired of hearing 'Drake'."

Bruce just lifts his eyebrows in confusion. He knew she didn't get along with her husband. Their constant screaming and arguing was not a secret. Did it have to do with that bad relationship? Or was she growing closer to Bruce? He snickered, the latter could hardly be possible;

"Okay Miss Susan." He waits until she leaves before giving one final glance at his mother's picture. Too many memories to comprehend, too much suffering to make sense of it, too much loneliness to feel a void for friendship.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

He'd made it down the basement so far, without attracting any attention of the middle school 'authorities.' Bruce had come up with the conclusion that setting it up in the foundation of a building would lessen the chance for an escape. He punched in the clock for it to go off after 20 minutes...Long enough.

The concept was cruel, vicious, and a bit inhuman.

He was quick to evacuate the room to avoid suspicion and possible dismantle of his prized creation.

Daniel caught sight of him as he walked down the hallway, nudging his friends before calling for him; "Hey skinny! What happened to your eye freak!"

Bruce gave a smirk. In 20 minutes, he'd be toasted. Shriveled up like a prune while an explosive flame burned his ashes. No words were necessary. The act would be good enough to silence those bullies forever.

He was beyond grateful when that bell rang, issuing for their first class.

Everyone took their usual places as they waited for class to start. They would have a substitute teacher this morning for science, of whom Bruce could pay no attention to. His deep brown eyes were fixed on that clock; '15 minutes left...and it would all be over.'

He doodled a bit on his page, '14:56, 14:50, 14:30, 20, 10...14 minutes left.'

His mind was racing, a voice in the back of his head praising him while his heart ached at the thought of dragging a few innocent victims down with a 'sinking ship'. Like that quiet girl who sat in the opposite corner with her friend. Or Victor who was paralyzed in that wheelchair who sat in front of her. Not that they paid him any attention, they had their own lives. But the thought was starting to haunt him...

...Why take revenge out on people who never hurt him?

He shut his eyes holding the sides of his head,; Why not? the world was dark, selfish, and cruel.

'13:58'

His heart beat quickened when he thought of that irritating math teacher. He deserved to die for all his nasty comments and selfish remarks.

'12:50'

Then again, his wife just had a baby...

'12:40'

And her father was killed in a car crash...

'12:30'

His gutt still throbbed, his eye burning as the blood rushed to his skull. Bruce released a nervous and evil chuckle when he thought of Daniel being swallowed up in some swarm of hell fire. Someone to throw him around for the unnecessary abuse. A wicked portion of his mind craved that sort of revenge more then anything else.

'11:40'

'11 minutes left.'

Do or die. He'd rather die then have to live with the pain anymore. A quick suffocation of crumbling walls would be the perfect method of escape from all his troubles and worry.

'10 minutes.'

He skimmed through his notebook for some sort of way to lift him from his doubts. It was the right thing to do...wasn't it? He'd finally be heard.

'9:40'

His heart ached, his hands went numb. Class was proceeding around him and his bubble. Bruce held his forehead as if he heard some voice in the back of his head pulling him out of the deep rooted revengeful persona.

'7 Minutes.'

He growls from the frustration, storming from the classroom in one swift motion. His mind was in such a fog, he could barely hear the muffled voices of the teacher demanding an explanation for his abrupt exit. Even the Daniel's laughter was a bit muffled. His heart pounded at an unbearble speed as he ran through the halls. No one deserved to die. Not even Daniel. He couldn't bring himself to let that bomb go off. Bruce didn't care if his life ended, but why should he take out his anger on a bunch of innocent victims? Even if not all of them were so innocent?

'4 Minutes.'

Down the stairs and back at the boiler, the clock read a good clear '60 seconds'. Bruce knew how to dismantle it and fast. His fingers working through the constant trembling and shaking. That voice behind him of the 'hulk' telling him to move a little faster. Bruce clutches his stomach once he realizes it's been completely shut down. His eyes are a bit blurry as he breathes a sigh of relief.

He backs up slowly, colliding unexpected into that taller man. He gives that stare, sending chills down his spine as he turns around to meet his unexpected guest.

The principal widens his eyes and crosses his arms, "Hi Banner."

Chapter Text

He just stayed in that small waiting area, deprived of everything but his imagination. Bruce seemed reality unaffected as he waited for Susan to arrive. He was bored but far from nervous over what could transpire. Knowing that the 'hulk' was sitting in that empty chair next him made him feel less alone.

The boy watched through that frosted glass door as two authorities examined his creation. He smirked; funny how it took three people to hover around his little invention.

The secretary would give occasional glances in his direction ensuring that he stayed where he was placed. He didn't try to move or express any emotion. The woman was personally ready to call a psychologist, believing there to be something wrong with the abnormally quiet child.

The woman gave a smile and an eye roll when Mrs. Drake entered the waiting area, parking herself three chairs away from Bruce. He didn't look at her, and she ignored him. After all, plastering lipstick on her face was a lot more important then addressing the weapon her nephew had created.

They were called in together to speak with the principle, with two officials standing behind him. He gave a polite smile as he addressed Mrs. Drake;

"I assume my secretary filled you in-"

She cuts him off, "Yes, yes, over the phone. Something about a time bomb, I know."

He raises an eye brow, slightly flustered by her calm demeanor, "Yes of course. Well, we have a lot to discuss. Do you want the bad news or the good news first?"

Susan gives a huff resting her elbows on the table, "Oh, the bad news of course. My day can't get any worse. Go ahead, stab me."

Bruce kept twirling his tongue, occasionally rolling his eyes at Susan's comments or nail chipping. He waited patiently his ears attentive to every word that had been exchanged.

"Okay Mrs. Drake, if your nephew was a few years older he'd be sent to prison-"

She snickers, "He's a juvenile delinquent."

Bruce rests his hand on his knee fingers crossed. Maybe Susan would eventually shut up. All he wanted to do was hear the principle out and go home, even if there was some sort of corporal punishment waiting for him.

The gentlemen pushes his glasses upwards, "Not necessarily Mrs. Drake. Robert has excelled academically, beyond anything I've ever seen. Just hear me out for one second; we're willing to forget the incident, if you move."

"Move?"

"Location of your choice,' he points to the child, 'Because this little one's attracted the attention of a certain army general, all expenses on your move and his future education will be covered-"

"Why? What's the catch?"

He smirks, "No catch ma'am. He's just a bright child who has a lot of potential if his creative mind is channeled in the right direction."

"An army general... You've got to be joking. I'll admit he's smart but you make him sound like he's a genius."

The principle leans over placing the time bomb onto his desk, marveling at the small metal creation. He gives a quick glance at Susan whose far from impressed. The man leans in making eye contact with the child beside her, "Robert, take it apart."

He widens his stare, "Now?"

The gentlemen nods somewhat excited, "Yep. I want to see what's inside. You need tools?"

Bruce answers the question by going straight to work, bare hands delving into the dirty work. He is quick at dismantling the object in front of them, removing the 'heart' of his bomb. He wrinkles his nose with a hint of disgust and a bit of relief, "Sir, I don't think it would have gone off anyway."

Susan replies with her eyebrows lowered more cross then usual, "Why not?"

He shrugs casually, "My battery was bad. The positive end exploded before it was installed. It's just a chain reaction, what effects one thing could effect another but-"

The principle covers his mouth, unsure of how to handle the boy, "And what do you have to say about your motives? Were they just as bad?"

Bruce just runs his thumbs over the battery head bowed low as he answers in a short statement, already cut off once; "Yes."

The man nods, "So, the move; talk it over. Unfortunately neither one of you can set foot on this property again if we're going to blow this one under the carpet, I'll give you my number. Keep me posted on where you decide to 'evacuate' and in the mean time and the general wants me to send him the creation. He'll be in touch with you as well."

She stands up fixing her hair, "Thank you."

"Yeah. And don't be too hard on him, he's not necessarily a bad kid. Might be some big important scientist some day. Who knows right?"

She rolls her eyes running ahead of Bruce, "Yeah, okay. You're funny."

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

The ride home was completely silent. Both parties too dedicated to their own minds to address the other. Susan gives a chuckle as she pulls up the driveway, "I don't believe this."

He just unlocks himself from the vehicle heading up the walk with his head bowed low in contemplative thought. Everything was so complicated!

He follows his aunt into the home, locking the door for her as she headed towards the phone, "I have to call Elaine. Robert. ugh. is that seriously what you've been doing in the shed? Making explosives? Are you going to blow up our house too? Oh that's right, we've got to move now."

Bruce just lets her talk. There was no reasoning with her anyways. She wouldn't listen, and she didn't care;

"Robert."

"Miss Susan, I really didn't want to hurt anybody. That's why I dismantled it before it went off. I didn't know it was a dud, but he, I, talked myself out of it."

He changed that pronoun, knowing she of all people never accepted his 'hulk friend'.

His blood boiled when she snickered a second time, "I can't believe you took that thing apart without any tools. You've got too much of your father in you, in that way, as far as minds go. Well, you've got a lot of your mother in you too, maybe that's why we don't get along..Listen, you shouldn't have built that thing to begin with."

Bruce shudders as she speaks of the devil, when all the memories come rushing back. He really didn't know anything about his dad, other then the fact that he drank a lot and beat him and his mother senseless. Still currently housed in that mental institution of course, and Bruce hoped they'd never let him out.

He freezes halfway up the stairs looking down at his aunt, "Miss Susan?"

She smirks sarcastically, "What?"

"What kind of scientist was my dad?"

"He was into physics, but scared stiff of any nuclear physics. Why."

He shakes his head, "Just wondering."

Susan drops her hands from her forehead, "Go upstairs please. I can't hit you, I can't yell at you, I can't ground you because you don't go anywhere anyway. I really have no clue what to do with you anymore! I never knew what to do with you! What the hell is Mike going to say?"

Bruce shrugs nervously as he stutters, "I- I'll talk to him."

"No! God help us, we both know he'll kill you. Just stay upstairs, and away from me."

"Miss Susan...-"

"Upstairs Bruce. Now. Actually, if I liked you a little more, making you talk to me as opposed to letting you hide in your room would be a good punishment."

He rests his head against the wall beside him, waiting for her to finish rambling about how useless he was to her and how she didn't want him. It had been a while since he heard her talk to him, since anyone spoke to him for that matter. Susan releases a heavy sigh when she sees he's not participating, waving her hand in the air when she huffs out a laugh;

"Go upstairs Bruce. Before Mike gets home."

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

'...Might be some big important scientist some day'...

Bruce gave a regretful sigh, sketching those three circles with a star in the center. He slips a tack through the top leaving on his desk; Steve Rogers must have made mistakes too, and who says a hero needs to be perfect?

With a sharpened pencil, he resumes his work on those complicated equations. Revenge wasn't the answer, even if he was still beyond angry with those bullies. And he knew he felt more and more guilty for even thinking he could blow up his school. His stomach twisted and his chest hurt over the thought. When he looks at the picture of his mother he almost feels like throwing up. She's be heart-broken over his actions, so disappointed. His finger trails over the edge, wishing he could curl up into her arms and know he was still loved by somebody. Susan didn't know how hurtful she could be sometimes.

But no one was injured, and at the end of the day, that was all that mattered.

Chapter Text

"What am I supposed to do Mike!? You're such an asshole!" Susan slams her fist into the table, eyes widening in aggravation.

He clenches his teeth, "That twirp is technically your responsibility! Not mine! If you have to move then move! I shouldn't have to suffer because of it!"

"We should just kick him out on his own!"

"You'd get arrested you little witch! How could you even talk like that?"

"You can't even support me! You can't even offer a little help around here! Take care of the little animal for a little while!"

"He's your nephew!"

"I don't want him! I never wanted him!"

"Then you should've kept your mouth shut and send him off with your sister!"

"Morris didn't want him either!"

He yells, "Well I can't blame him!"

"Yelling about it won't do you any good!"

"Talking to you doesn't get me anywhere!"

She rolls her eyes, "Oh, you talk to me since when?"

"When you're not flirting with the salesmen or spending my salary!"

"You're salary! I'm stuck at home raising Brian's freak!"

"You're the one who belongs in a mental institution! Not your damn brother!"

Bruce huddled into the corner, slowly and quietly sneaking back up the stairs. Once the debate shifted to their personal relationship, it bothered him a little more. Not only did they absolutly hate him, but they also hated each other. Their arguments were getting worse; longer, and much more intense. There was little he could do to avoid it other than to just keep quiet and out of their way.

Weeks passed before Bruce could accept their frequent arguments as the new normal.

Moving wasn't easy, and eventually Mike complied, complaining throughout the entire process. Elaine and Morris spent the next 2 weeks in a local hotel to offer support and help. Aunt Elaine gave Bruce a small lecture after hearing about the bomb, sitting him down on his bed to talk with him. Her voice was gentle whenever she addressed her fragile nephew and her words were strong though she was careful not to crush him. Miss Walters could see past his rash decision, especially when he couldn't even look at her without his eyes watering or his cheeks reddening. He never wanted to hurt anybody, but himself, sinking into some sort of depression. She knew he was lost, unappreciated, and completely confused. But she also knew that if he had a little guidance and affection, he'd be a very different person; Open, talkative, confident, and whitty.

Elaine still felt guilty for leaving him with Susan, knowing one talk wasn't going to change much of anything. She smies at him when she's about to wrap up, leaning forward to get him to look at her;

"Sweetheart?"

His lip trembles, "I'm a juvenile deliquent?"

She tilts her head, wanting so badly to scoop him into her arms if he'd let her, "Oh, baby no, no. Who told you that?"

He shrugs, not wanting to get his Aunt Susan in trouble. Elaine releases a gentle sigh, staying as compassionate as possible;

"Robert, you are not a bad person. And I'm not unhappy with you; I'm unhappy about your actions. Do you understand the difference?"

He nods. She claspses her fingers, trying hard not to touch him, "You mean a lot to me sweetheart. I love you very much. And I want you to talk to me if something is troubling you. I know you've had a hard time trusting others for as long as I can remember but I promise, I'm not going to hurt you."

He nods, tears in his eyes. She reminds him so much of mom that sometimes it hurts more then helps. But he respected her. And of all his Aunts and Uncles he was the closest with her. She was the only one he trusted. Still, he didn't talk much to any of them and he had no intention of confiding anything with anyone...except maybe Jennifer.

And Jennifer provided the most help, keeping Bruce out of his room and unhealthy solitude. Elaine would send them outdoors when things between the adults got too dark, knowing he was most comfortable with her daughter. She liked the way Jen would get him to loosen up and laugh every once in a while. He needed a friend, and she was perfect for him. They balanced each other out rather well in their close brother/sister sort of relationship.

They spent as much time as they could with 'Tiger', that small kitten under the shed until he finally disappeared to venture off into the world on his own. Jennifer was very upset about 'losing' the 'pet', hoping to eventually convince her father to adopt it. The little girl insisted on having some sort of speech in honor of the little kitty's welcome to the real world.

She ignored her cousins strange glances and snickering as she continued with her spirited delivery in the backyard;

"Tiger, or if the cat of stripes were a girl, Katie, was a fine feline to care for as he lived under the shed of my crazy Aunt Susan's heck of a home. Bruce and I shall miss this little guy but we hope the real cat world will treat him well. Amen,' she wrinkles her brow, 'Bruce, say 'amen.'"

He chuckles a bit before complying with what he considered an absurd request. She nods suspiciously, "Right, that was very enthusiastic."

He shrugs his shoulders, "You're very into this whole, 'talking in front of people' thing aren't you?"

She wrinkles her nose, "Nah, I'm a dancer at heart. Mommy takes me for lessons. Oh! I'm having a show this year! I'm going to be on the big stage for the recital and you should come."

Bruce calmly replies to her energetic suggestions, "Recital huh."

"Yeah! And I do ballet, and tap, and jazz, and lyrical, and modern, and theater, and the big girls do hip hop."

He nods politely, not completely understanding all the varieties, "You like it?"

She bods her head, "Is that a question? I go three times a week for practice. When I grow up, I'm going to be a dancer. ABT in N.Y."

"What's 'ABT in N.Y'?"

She widens her eyes, dramatically lifting her hand to her head, "My cousin doesn't know what ABT in NY is. I might faint...catch me."

He lifts his arms, jumping up to catch her dramatic fall. He panics, raising his voice a little in sheer terror, "Please don't faint. You might hit your head!"

She pulls from his grip, "Thanks, but I was just kidding. So...ABT stands for American Ballet Theater, and NY stands for New York. Do you get it now?"

Bruce looks her over, not appreciating her dramatic joke. He hated head injuries, worried sick she might fall and hurt herself;

"Yes, but why did you feel the need to freak me out like that? No more dramatic 'fainting.' Okay?"

Jennifer gives an exasperated sigh, "Mr. Paranoia over here. Relax. Breathe with me. In...and out...and, repeat the process over and over again."

He copies her...doesn't help. Bruce shifts his glance towards her large gestures, "Jennifer, maybe you should be an actress instead."

She lifts her hand to her chin, "Is that sarcastic, or a real life suggestion?"

Bruce twirls his tongue a bit within his mouth, "A bit of both I guess."

She leans forward in a bow, "Why thank you Bruce. And my suggestion for you is to take a yoga class. Meditation on calming things...preferably without building a time bomb and um...without...the hulk."

His eyes widen, "So you admit he's real?"

She crosses her arms, tilting her head as her brown hair falls over her shoulder, "Buddy, if it makes you happy then believe in it. I personally don't see anyone out here other then you and me."

The boy contemplates on pushing his way, then again, she's just a little girl. It would be mean, wrong even, to keep telling her that she's wrong. He drops it, glancing over the fence;

"Would you like to go for a walk Jennifer?"

She claps her hands, pulling her best british accent for pure dramatics, "I shall be delighted to stroll down a paved...oh whatever. Yeah! I'm game."

Chapter Text

Bruce was afraid to admit his general fear of school, or more specifically, his classmates. Still, the word 'high' in front of it only added to the intimidation. The fact that he was a new comer to te local community, gave him further reason to dread day 1.

Laying awake on his bed during the early evening hours, he debates calling his cousin. At this point Jennifer had become more like a sister to him. Even though she was only 11 and he 14, they connected an understood each other. She could even hug him now if she so desired without him flinching too much.

The first time she called him over the phone was about a year ago to vent how someone had the nerve to push her to the ground. Of course, the fact that Jenn threw her bully down the stairs hardly resolved the issue. Bruce let her talk, but without him saying a word she admitted that by the end of the 'conversation' she felt better.

So it continued; she'd call him, he'd call her. She would invite him to her dance recitals and he would amuse her with some intense calculation or discovery. They'd laugh, vent, debate, and sometimes complain about their relatives. Realistically, she was the leader, taking over much of the phone call. But to hear Jennifer talk was enough to break up his constant loneliness for a while, even if he really had no clue what she was talking about.

Now was one of those moments when he wanted to hear her silly comments and high pitched laughter. It was better then having to hear Susan and Mike argue over whose credit card debt was higher.

Bruce makes up his mind, heading towards his Uncle Mike's office as he dials a number that his fingers have personally memorized. He parks himself in the chair behind him, removing his glasses to rub at his exausted brown eye. Morris answers, anxious to try out his caller I.D;

"Is this Robert?"

"Hi Uncle Morris. How are you."

"Oh, fine, and yourself? Everything well?"

"Yes. How's Aunt Elaine."

"Doing well. You want to speak with Jennifer?"

"Yes please. If she's around, that would be great thanks."

"She's right here. Hold on one second buddy. Nice to hear from you."

He prepares himself for her usual boisterous greeting, pulling the phone away from his ear just as the little girl answers:

"Hi ya cousin!"

"Hi Jenn. A little louder today huh." He can hear her shameless munching away on the opposite end as she snickers:

"I can be louder. Wanna hear?"

"Please don't. My eardrums are begging for mercy."

"Haha! Oh! I have something to tell you. Remember Billy the Bully? He sent me flowers to apologize."

"That was nice."

"But I threw them at his face yesterday in school. Wups! Clumsy me!"

"Jennifer!"

"What? He was mean to me."

"Yeah but you shouldn't do that."

"Eh. Can't say I regret it. So what's happening by you? Did you start HIgh School yet?"

"Not yet. Susan's got me attending this science focused curriculum. Supposedly be funded by this army general in New Mexico...I don't even know him!"

"Ooh. Fancy. What's it like?"

"I don't know I start tomorrow. Honestly, I'm a little nervous."

"So, aside from needlessly panicking, what else are you doing?"

"I'm not panicking, just a little, apprehensive. And to answer your question, I'm hiding from Susan and Mike. Yourself?"

"Watching TV and doodling in my sketchbook."

"How was ballet this week?"

"Stupid! Okay, so I told you we're doing the Nutcracker and that I wanted the role of the Sugar Plum, yes?"

"I remember."

"Alright well, guess who got the part of the Sugar Plum?!"

"Based on your tone? Was it 'Tiny Feet'?"

"Yes! It was Little Miss 'I'm so perfect' Tiny Feet!"

He tries not to laugh, "I'm sorry Jenn. You'll get your chance."

"It's not even like I got a good backup part! I can't even play the Rat King!"

"...You're funny Jennifer."

"No, at least the Rat Kind gets a cool costume."

"Complain all you want I know you still love it."

"I do. So what time is class tomorrow?"

"6 o'clock."

"A.M! That's ludicrous!"

"It's not bad."

"Let me know how it goes."

"I will."

"Are you coming to my show in the spring? It's May 10th this year. Can you come?"

"I'll try to."

"Yeah yeah..."

"No, no, I promise."

"You better!"

"I'll try my best."

"And when will I see you again?"

"Hopefully soon."

"I miss you."

"I miss you too."

"You have to come out here and meet my boyfriend."

"Oh brother...Jennifer! You're only eleven!"

"So? He's cute."

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

9th Grade

Robert Bruce Banner found the new school to be much less intimidating then his initial suspicions. His grades were always above average, and in his new environment, there weren't too many individuals who gave him trouble. He got through freshman year without any physical attacks which was a new record for him.

Of course, there were a few kids who obviously disliked him. Gossiping through the hallway, purposely hiding his books. Sometimes one would ask him some complicated question just to test his wits. It usually cam back to bite them when Bruce would answer the question in a matter of seconds. When they found out about his grades, the situation didn't improve. Still, as long as nobody pushed, punched, or tripped him, Bruce decided he'd been through a lot worse.

His typical clumsiness would be the one thing to occasionally annoy the teachers, not to mention those little tongue twirling, finger tugging habits of his. Aside from being a silent observer, the teachers didn't have anything bad to say about the awkward intelligent young boy in the corner.

Bruce went to school, did what he had to do, and left. He was never aware of his little fan base consisting of two girls who would comment among themselves over his thick hair or glasses. Their infatuation didn't last long, quickly deciding that if he was just a little bit less awkward, they'd talk to him.

Chapter Text

"What? Just because you can't handle it anymore you're going to walk out on me?!"

Mike wastes no time before snapping back, hands slamming on the kitchen table, "I can't handle you anymore! You and your selfish attitude! You and your damn family! I've had enough!"

"So your quitting! Fine! I don't need you! I never did!" Susan crosses her arms, screaming a little louder.

He shrugs, "Fine! Then you admit you're done? Finished? Cause I certainly am!"

She shakes her head, "Who are you again?"

He storms off, "I'm calling a lawyer."

"Fine. The house is mine!"

He waves his finger, teeth clenched, "The only thing you're getting, is that kid!"

She drops her jaw, "Now wait just a minute! You can not expect me to raise him on my own!"

"He's not my nephew! He's yours!"

...

Bruce covering his ears in a final attempt to fall back to sleep, glancing up at the digital clock. He'd have to get up soon anyway, so what was the point? He rolled his eyes, still hearing his aunt and uncle arguing, having been at it for a good 3 hours.

The seventeen year old, rubs over his sore eyes, head aching from the non stop yelling. He made a worthwhile attempt to organize himself, hand running through his thick messy curls. Searching in his drawers for something, eventually choosing the light purple sweater for comforts sake. It was getting intense, between his disturbing nightmares, tramatising memories, and not one phone call from Jennifer in months. He decided she was due for a phone call, resolving to contact her later.

He washed up quickly, threw his glasses on, and headed down the stairs. His small body collided with his uncle, quick to apologize and take the blame, "I'm sorry Uncle Mike, I didn't see you."

He growls pushing his body from his way, "Just go Robert."

The boy runs down the stairs, spotting his aunt on the verge of tears at the kitchen table. Bruce has one hand on the door knob, eyes focused on his distraught caretaker. He hesitates to ask, knowing he'll just get yelled at. There's a sort of burning in his gut, something that will forever haunt him if he doesn't try. He takes a step into the kitchen, hands nervously tugging on one another, "Miss Susan, are you alright?"

She throws her head back, growling in her throat before she rolls her eyes, "Just got out Robert,' she sighs, obviously regretting her snapping, ' I have a stupid meeting at the school...Just go for now, I'll meet you."

Bruce gives a nod, surprised she didn't try to bite his head off like usual. He tugs the door open, surprised when Mike follows him out. His uncle gives him a tap on the shoulder, now outside the house, "I'm divorcing Susan. Thought you should know and she's not going to tell you anything, the lousy bitch." He storms towards the car without another word.

Bruce just gives a sigh before heading off to school. He was barely effected by it all, his mind a bit more focused on the upcoming test and project he'd be graded on for the day.

"He's always working!"

"What? Who?"

"Robert."

"Oh! The boy with the glasses."

"Duh! Who else do we talk about."

"The guy makes us look like pikers!"

"There's something wrong with him."

"Obviously!"

The four boys push each other down the hallway to avoid contact with the 'freak.'

Bruce kept his head down, nose stuck in a book as he headed for his locker with a pencil in his mouth. He can hear whispers behind him, picking up nothing more than his name before he just dismisses any thought of translating the mumbles. With a quick sketch, he glances at a shadow on the wall, comforted by the presence of some imaginary companion.

"Mrs. Drake, I have to say, Robert is brilliant. No intelligence test that has been developed to adequately measure his IQ."

Susan holds her head and nods, her knees crossed over one another. Her eyes rove over the desk of the headmaster, mentally somewhere else at the moment, "Well, his father was the same way."

The man nods face a little more worried, "But he shuns his classmates as much as they shun him. I'm a little concerned about his social skills, he doesn't have any friends in school. Do you take him for extra activities someplace else?"

She shakes her head, "All he cares about is his studies. He's got no interest in anything else. Personally, I think it has to do with his childhood."

"I figured. I know Dr. Banner killed his wife. It must have been hard for him."

Susan shrugs her shoulders, coming to a firmer grip on reality, "It was, very bad for Bruce a long time before that tragedy as well."

He nods, "I came to that conclusion. Whatever rage Bruce felt about his father's mistreatment must have been internalized. I almost hate to say this, but I hope one day he finds some way to let it go, nondestructively"

The boy snickers, nudging his friend when he pours something into Bruce's unattended vial, "Shh, get over here, you're going to get in trouble!"

He pushes his friend, "Are you kidding? This is so going to shake up big brain."

"He's going to freak out!"

"Will you shut up!"

Bruce lowers his eyebrows, pausing in his writing. The pencil snaps just before he hears a sizzling sound. The boy holds his head, stomach turning as he contemplates what could have gone wrong. Every calculation was correct, and there was no way his chemicals could have reacted explosively. He jumps, heading for the vial just as it pops.

Glass shatters, liquid spills onto the floor. A girl pulls her legs up on her stool, squealing in a higher pitch then usual, "Mr. Thayer! Robert's trying to kill us!"

The teacher jumps as he yells, "ROBERT!"

The boy looks up over the rim of his glasses, cheeks turned bright red with the lock over his forehead, "I'm sorry Mr. Thayer."

He crosses his arms, raising his voice, "Is this some sort of a joke!?"

Bruce tugs on his fingers, "No! I wasn't - that's not what I meant!"

The teacher frowns, "I expected you to be more mature. You never struck me as the type to pull stupid pranks."

The other boy snickers in the corner, raising his hand sarcastically, "That's the problem with eggheads, you never know when they're going to crack."

His friend gives him a 'high-five' from the back. Bruce clenches his teeth, eyes closing as he goes through what he could have possibly done wrong. He picks up his notebook when he comes out empty-handed, dashing from the classroom in a trembling fit.

The teacher shakes his head, "Someone needs to clean up the mess."

The girl points, "Robert should clean it! He made the mess!"

The boys snicker, trying their best to cover themselves, "We'll clean it Mr. Thayer."

He nods, "Thank you boys. I'd appreciate that."

Susan and Mike did most definitely get a divorce within the next few months, never explaining anything to Bruce. The first time he knew for a certainty Mike was not coming back was when Susan invited Elaine and Morris over for the evening. She shed plenty of tears before convincing herself she made the right decision.

Elaine just sat there, utterly horrified at her sister's attitude, glancing at Morris before she speaks up without consulting her husband, "If it would make it easier for you, we don't mind taking Robert."

Morris lowers his eyebrows, sitting up straighter in his chair, "Excuse me! Elaine!"

Susan brushes under her eye, shocked by what she's about to admit, "No, I- I don't mind keeping him."

Elaine widens her eyes, "Are you sure? We don't mind."

Her husband raises his voice, "Uh, yes we mind!"

His sister-in-law shrugs her shoulders, "He's practically an adult now anyway. I can handle him."

Jennifer snickers from the other room, playing cards with her cousin as she eavesdrop on the 'adult conversation'. Bruce looks at her with a smirk on his face, "What are you laughing at?"

She shakes her head, "Mom wants you, dad doesn't."

He shrugs, biting his cheek, "I'm going to be 18 next year Jenn. It's a little late for a legal adoption."

Jennifer shifts her big eyes upwards, "But, you can live with us if you want. Or...move closer."

He smiles, removing his glasses to see her clearer, "Well, between the two of us, I'd like to go to college in California. I'd be closer to you guys."

Her face lights up, "Really?! So, maybe you could finally come to my dance recitals?"

"All of them." He drops a card on the table.

She rolls her eyes over the game, "You promise?"

"I swear."

She pulls her legs into her chest, brushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear, "What are you going to school for? Still nuclear physics?"

"Yes, major in that, minor in medical."

She tilts her head, reaching over to shuffle the deck, "Interesting pick. Not that I'm surprised."

"What about you Jennifer? Still going for a dancing career?" He runs a hand through his curls, after pinching between his eyes.

She smiles, "You have to ask?"

He smirks, taking up his cards, "So, eventually move to New York?"

Jennifer smirks, flashing her winning cards onto the table, "Definitely! Will you move with me?"

Bruce gives a shrug, "Maybe. If you haven't had enough of me by then."

"Never! Are you kidding? You're my best friend."

He lowers his head, cleaning his lenses, "You're my only friend."

She smirks, "Remember when you used to talk to yourself? I'm sorry, 'the hulk'. That was hilarious."

Her cousin gives a weak smile, reluctant to admit his firm reliance on his imagination;

"Yeah...hilarious."

Robert Bruce Banner graduated at 17 years old, receiving all the praise and honors available to a boy with his intelligence level. Both his Aunt Susan and Aunt Elaine attended it to his graduation, but Morris volunteered to take Jennifer to her ever so important ballet rehearsal that just could not be missed.

Back at the house, Bruce finally admitted his future plans to his Aunt Elaine who occasionally glanced at Susan with a sweet expression. She turned her focus back towards her nephew, holding his hand, "Rob- Bruce, I'm very proud of you.' Susan widens her eyes, shocked that Elaine used his prefered name, 'And I know your mother would be very proud as well. I hope you know that she loved you very much. You're a very special young man, and you're going to be a brilliant scientist. I love you Bruce."

He smiles, "I love you too Aunt Elaine. Thanks, for everything."

She tilts her head compassionately, hesitant to ask him for something she nows he doesn't like;

"Can I hug you Bruce?"

He smirks, gently wrapping his arms around his Aunt. She holds him tenderly, not even feeling his touch. Elaine kisses his cheek, holding his hands when she pulls away;

"I am so proud of you."

Susan coughs sarcastically, "Can I hug my nephew now?"

Both Elaine and Bruce give her a wide-eyed glance, shocked by her request. The awkward care-taker barely touching him when her arms are around his frame. He whispers, hesitant to say a word to her, "You too, um Miss Susan. I really- thanks for keeping me around. I promise once I'll move out as soon as possible."

She shrugs her shoulders closing her eyes to avoid crying, "Okay. No rush, but don't postpone it either."

Chapter Text

She rolls her eyes when she hears the phone continuously ringing, biting the skin off her cuticle as she takes a glance at the clock.

Her mom walks by, mug in her hands as she watches her daughter from the hallway. Elaine moves back to avoid suspicion, taking note of Jennifer's disappointed facial expression as she no doubt get nothing but an answering machine;

"Hi Bruce, it's Jenn, just calling to say 'hi'. Hope everything's great in college. I miss you and...hopefully we can see you soon. Bye."

Elaine waits until she hangs up the phone, eyes watching her teenage daughter head for the mirror as she pins up her ballet bun. She keeps a smile on her face as she enters the room,

"Hi."

Jennifer looks over her shoulder, tossing a bobby pin back on her dresser as she spins to sort through her dance bag, "Hi."

She breathes a heavy sigh, hesitant to bring it up, "You called Bruce?"

Her daughter nods, snapping in response, "Yes."

"You got the answering machine?"

Jenn tosses her bag onto the floor before plopping beside her mother, "Is he mad at me?"

"Sweetheart, why would he be mad at you?"

She sighs, eyes wide and expressive, "Because he's not calling me back! We've talked once since he started his nuclear physics course! And that was on the anniversary of Aunt Rebecca's death so it doesn't even count!"

Elaine contorts her lips, gentle hand rubbing over her daughters back, "Honey, you know he loves you. Bruce is just very busy with school."

She snorts, "Yeah. He can't even take 5 minutes out of his busy schedule to call?"

"He will."

Jennifer shrugs, responding in a calmer tone then before, "When? When I die?"

"Jennifer! Don't talk like that."

She sighs looking up at the clock, "We're going to be late mom."

Elaine nods, pointing towards her costumes, "You want me to throw those in the car?"

Her daughter breathes another heavy sigh, picking up her belongings, "No, I've got it. That's another thing, it's Saturday. He can't even come to my recital? He knows how important this is to me."

Her mom reaches over to give her a quick hug, "Don't think about it so much Jennifer. He loves you, and I love you. And right now, the only thing that matters is you having one of the best performances of your life."

She smirks, "And Dad's coming?"

She nods, "Yes, but Susan can't make it. She says she sorry. I think she's got a date with her boyfriend."

Jenn rolls her eyes, "Who cares. No loss."

Elaine tries not to laugh, slipping a closed envelope on the desk. The dancer's scholarship would be a surprise for the 10th grader when she got back from her show, with an extra little note from a proud mother and father. Jennifer deserved it for all the work she put into her artistic hobby and future career.

"I love you Jenn."

Her daughter makes her typical silly face, wrinkling her nose and shaking her head;

"Love ya Mom."

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

She made him smile when she stole his notebook, skimming through the pages as she read aloud;

"Let me see what the infamous study-holic Bruce Banner has to say about his Nuclear discovery."

He smirks, "Susan Jacobs! Please give it back."

She snickers, baiting him to reach up and grab it though he never complies. She's obviously disappointed when he skims through his textbook, readjusting his glasses as a thick lock falls over his forehead. Susan contorts her lips, short hair bobbing with her movement as she returns the book over the bed;

"Is that all you do? Study?"

He glances upward, big eyes roving about the room slightly startled by the tone in her voice, "Why?"

She crosses her arms, "Oh, I don't know. Because for the past month we've been, 'together' that's really all you've done."

He shrugs, hurt by her tone, "You're exaggerating."

Susan narrows her focus, shifting in her position before standing up and heading for the door;

"Where's your roommate?"

He jumps up to follow her, "Out. Susan where are you going?"

She rolls her eyes before heading down the hallway in her simple attire, frustrated with her friend.

Bruce follows her out and through the hallway in the hopes that she'd open up, "Miss Jacobs? Is it something I said?"

She whips her head around, arms dropping to the sides, "No. It's just,' she closes her eyes, 'how come we can't have a physical relationship? Every other one of my friends has a boyfriend who cuddles with them and sleeps with them. And you never even touch me! You never even suggested we cuddle or spend the night. It's like I have a disease or something."

He narrows his focus, flabbergasted by her choice of words, "What?!"

"You never hug me, or hold me, you never even kissed me! And what I don't understand is that you never even let me hold your hand. As long as there's room between us you're fine, but the instant I brush my shoulder against yours, you freak out. Do you even love me?"

He stammers, cheeks flushing red. He knows he hates contact, nervous to hurt anyone or to be hurt in return, "Of course I do i just don't like..."

She throws an arm in the air, "Well, you never proved it!"

Susan knew it was risky to approach such a strange young man in the first place, over a month ago. She didn't know the slightest thing about him when she suggested they spend the evening together, other than his reputation of being extremely intelligent and single. She didn't do much else to get to know him other then flirt and try to touch him despite his constant pulling away and meek requests for her to stop.

He sighs, despirate when she turns her back on him again. It was the closest he had ever been to feeling normal in a halfway decent relationship, or so he thought. He shut those big brown eyes pain building up in his chest as he suffers through a distant memory, feeling a slap across his face or a punch across his body. He hates contact, his past teaching him to fear such a thing.

Susan's on her way out before he reaches over, forcefully grabbing her shoulder. Not even Bruce was aware of his own strength or of his ability to cause her to scream, immediately releasing her as she bolts in the opposite direction.

He felt dizzy, the scream plunging in a direct route from his eardrums to his heart. When he closes his eyes a second time he can feel his heart palpitating, or hear his mother's shrills before his vision starts to fade. He takes off back for his room, collapsing on the bed face down in a fit of blended emotions, too weak to scream or cry. He feels numb, a tingling sensation burning in his finger tips as he relives through the words of his father;

'Worthless.'

'Mutant.'

'Demon.'

...A word and a story for every hour until he finds himself curling up and craving solitude more than anything else.

"Bruce! Wait!"

He's ready to run, when he hears her behind him, though she seems much calmer from the night before. Her smile is what causes him to relax, eyes dropping up and down her frame, nervous for what she could possibly want.

She stops in front of him, hands nervously rubbing against her books, "I'm sorry about last night, when I yelled at you. When you grabbed me, ugh, it sounds wierd. Bruce when you grabbed me, it didn't feel like you. You startled me I guess, I didn't know how to handle it."

He shrugs, casually ready for her to move along as he situates his stuff and sorts through his chemicals, "I'm sorry Susan, but you scared me too you know."

She sighs, "I know I did, but I really didn't mean to. Clearly you're just a very sensitive person, and I didn't mean to get you upset. I'm just not used to, that."

He smirks nervously, cleaning his lenses with the end of his lab coat, "Sorry...no...it's fine Susan. My mind is too busy with school at the moment to think about anything else."

She nods with a smile on her face, "I know, and that's okay. You're a good guy and you'll find someone else.' she reaches over, planting a gentle kiss on his cheek, 'You'll be an important scientist some day. So, I guess I'll see you around the campus in passing and what-have-you. Good luck Bruce."

The boy gives her a smirk, heading back to his work, "You too."

. . . . . . . . . .

It's late by the time he gets back to his room, equations burning in his mind as he reads a note left by his roommate:

'Banner,

If you choose to go to bed instead of working on another stupid project, please leave the light on! I can't see when I'm wasted, AND I've got a date tomorrow afternoon and I'm using the room so make yourself scarce.

Sincerely,

D-'

Bruce rolls his eyes and quickly crumples the note, eyes spotting at least 7+ unheard messages flashing over the answering machine.

He frowns, holding his forehead as he parks at the desk, his mind somewhere between his father's taunts and the upcoming exam as he clicks a replay:

'HI YA COUSIN! It's Jennifer, call me back when you get a chance, nothing important.'

'HI YA COUSIN! It's Jenny, you never called me back so I called again. Just saying Hi. okay, Bye.'

'Hi Bruce, it's Jennifer. Um...it's a Saturday. Do you have class on Saturday's too? Anyways, call me back please. Nothing important.'

'Hey Cousin, guess who? Um, yeah...call me back? I'm having a problem at school. Hope all is well.'

'Hi Bruce. Resolved my problem in case you were worried. Um, My friend David is coming to my recital so, I thought you might feel a little more comfortable with another boy if that's why you won't come. Please call back? Okay, talk to you later.'

'Hi, call me back please? I miss you.'

'Bruce, Daddy's not supporting my dancing career. Would be nice if you called back, I could use some encouragement.'

'BRUCE! Guess who got a cat? And guess what I named it? Tiger! Call me back.'

'HI BRUCE! Guess who got the leading role?! Please please please try to come! Call me back for details!'

He's startled when her voice changes, and his heart drops when she's on the brink of tears. The tape replays it as being from 'one month ago':

'Bruce, it's Jennifer. Something happened, please call me back.'

'It's Jennifer, Bruce I know you're busy but this is really important. Please call me back.'

'Robert Bruce, it's Jennifer. I know I just called but I really need to talk to you.'

'Bruce, this is really important. I need help, please! I need you, please call me back.'

'Bruce, mom was killed in a car accident last week. Her funeral is this Saturday at the local funeral home, down the road from the house at 7. Even if you can't come, I want to talk to you. Daddy's heartbroken over it and Aunt Susan can't come. Please call for daddy at least. I still love you like you're my older brother. I don't want to wait until something like this happens to see you again. I'll talk to you later.'

He shakes his head in disbelief, heart palpitating as he looks up at the calendar, exactly two days late. Bruce clenches a fist pounding into the table before he reaches for the phone. He dials quick, a lump forming in his throat when he hears nothing but the answering machine. He takes a swallow, holding his head in an attempt to remain composed;

'Jennifer, it's Bruce. I'm...so sorry to hear about Aunt Elaine, and I didn't get back to you quick enough. I'm sorry I got the message late. I'll be home all day, otherwise I'll try to call you later. I love you Jenn, hang in there...'

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

She's too distraught to answer the phone, tears streaming down her face as she cries into her pillow, just listening to his voice as he talks to a dial-tone.

She pushes up to her hands and knees, sniffling and struggling to inhale as she whispers over his 'hang in there';

"I miss you Bruce..."

Chapter Text

"Hi Jen, it's Bruce. Just wanted to give you a call a see how you were doing. I'm thinking about you....I love you Jen. Stay strong."

He clicks his phone off, throwing it onto his night stand after leaving the 5th message on his cousin's voicemail. Jennifer was the only person he had heard from since high school, but he tried his best to contact her father and his Aunt Susan through letters, cards and phone calls. No one picked up or answered him.

And why should they? Morris didn't want him, and Susan only viewed him as a burden.

He brushes the hair from his forehead, rubbing his eyes out of pure exhaustion. His stomach twisted over losing his Aunt, sick over not being able to help his cousin and be there for her like he wanted.

. . . . . . . . . .

"Angela Lipscombe. Mind if I sit down?" The blond haired girl barely gives him a chance to nod before she parks beside him at the fountain, slipping through her notebook before she leans over to look at his.

Bruce keeps to himself, avoiding the newly introduced girl for a number of reasons. For one thing, no one talks to him. And what does she want?

When Susan Jacobs first introduced herself, she seemed friendly, kindly suggesting they study together. Things progressed from there before they exploded, and Bruce Banner was in no rush to jump right back into another so called 'relationship.'

-They were heartbreaking!

Susan was his first real friend, (aside from Jennifer of course) and losing her through him right back into solitude. Every other student just ignored him, mumbling among themselves about his genius and above average grades. Banner wasn't an idiot, he knew when they were talking about him.

He contorted his body, back towards the blue-eyed classmate as he looked over notes from the previous class. When he closed his eyes, all he could see was Jennifer. It bothered him that his beloved cousin never called back, realizing how annoyed she probably was with him for avoiding her those few years.

Bruce jumps when she tugs on the shoulder of his sweatshirt;

"Sorry to bother you, but what did you get for question 24? That's the deltoid?"

He gives a quick glance at her diagram before sketching out his involved mathematically equation as he answers her, hoping she won't say another word and just ignore him;

"Deltoid. 23 is latissimus dorsi, not sartorius, that's 26. The essay on Deltoid intramuscular injection cam from page 230 paragraph 3. You can look at mine if you want."

She glances at her picture, then back at him and his ability to multitask with one glance at her notes;

"Um...its...in your backpack?"

He gives an exasperated sigh, digging through his stuff before handing her his notes;

"I bent the page. I wrote out the answers to test 4. Indulge yourself."

She speaks quietly, glancing through his detailed explanation;

"Aren't you taking nuclear physics too? How do you have time for this?"

Bruce zips up his backpack, ready to run off, "I don't, and I don't have time to talk so excuse me for being abrupt Miss...Lipscombe."

She folds his book, holding it up for him. He refuses to turn around spotting her return through his peripheral;

"Keep it."

"I can't. I mean- can I hold onto until tomorrow? I'll see you in class?"

He nods, lock falling onto his forehead as he walks off with his head bowed low and hands rammed into his pockets, "Yeah sure."

She contorts her lips, tossing her books into her bag as she walks after him;

"Robert? Is it?"

He corrects her, pausing to toss a rock with the side of his foot, "Bruce."

"Oh. Okay. Bruce,' she holds hold her hand, 'Angela. Nice to, finally talk to the quiet boy in the corner."

Banner glances at her hand suspiciously, before slowly placing his into hers. He barely touches her as they shake hands, scoffing at her comment, "Ha! Is that my reputation."

"Everyone talks about you, but something tells me you already knew that.' She wraps her hands around her books, 'You alright?"

He backs up, reverting to himself as he brushes her off, "I'm fine." Why would you care?

"Well. What are you doing tomorrow? After class."

"Studying. Why."

She shrugs, "Wanna study together-."

He cuts her off before she's done, eyes shifting up behind her, "No."

Angela lifts an eyebrow, just as stubborn as he is, "Meet me at the fountain after school. 2:15."

Bruce narrows his focus, "Listen, I'm really not interested in, talking to people-"

She smiles sarcastically, "You want your notebook back? 2:15. Have a nice evening."

He watches her walk the opposite way, rolling his eyes behind her back. The young boy growls to himself, anger building within him as his muscles tense. He clenches his teeth as he hurls a small stone into the river before he sits back on his heels. He's alone on the pavement to watch the sunset, despite a splitting headache. He feels closer to his mom when he's outdoors, occasionally looking up at the sky. It's comforting to imagine she's watching him, maybe with his Aunt Elaine...someplace, somewhere, though he's starting to question the daydream, along with everything else he ever believed in...

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

-2:15, Snag the book and run.

She shows up on the clock, holding out his notebook just like she promised. Angela gives him a smile he doesn't return, stealing his book from her grip. She tilts her head and crosses her arms.

He gives a double take, breathing a heavy sigh, "I'm sorry Angela I just-"

"Well I should say so. Never met anyone quite like you."

He looks down, anger building inside him for no apparent reason. He rolls his eyes in front of her, grinding his teeth with less restraint.

She lowers her eyebrows, "Look, I don't know what you've been through, you've obviously been exposed to some action, but there's no reason to be bitter with me! I am not the cause of your suffering, and neither is the rest of our class.' she sighs, 'I'm not sure why you avoid us, and I'm not going to pry. It's your business, not mine. I like you Bruce, I can tell you're a good guy and that you've been misunderstood. I'm just looking for a little respect. There's no reason to walk past me in the halls, or ignore me when I'm talking to you. No offense, but it's rude not to look people in the eye when they're talking to you. Agreed?"

He nods, eyes fixed on hers in pure shock. She nods:

"Okay. So I'll see you tomorrow?"

He nods mechanically. Angela sighs, as she holds out her hand. He complies, though he hardly touches her when they shake hands.

Bruce grips at his neck, calling to her as she walks the other way;

"Thanks."

She turns her head around, brushing a loose strand of her hair behind her ear. She's stern, never glancing at him in a way that would consider her to be a flirt. Angela is genuine in her attempt to befriend him. She smirks, rolling her eyes in a sarcastic manner;

"See you tomorrow."

He shrugs, "2:15?"

She glances over her shoulder, "I, don't have a book to return."

He glances down at his foot, "Oh. Did you study for the midterm?"

Angela shrugs, "You, would study with me?"

He shrugs casually, "I've- got nothing else to do."

She wants to ask 'what changed your mind' she drops it. He seems sensitive. He's charming, awkward, but literally adorable. There's an endearing yet mysterious quality about that quiet boy with the loose chocolate curls;

"Huh. Alright, at the fountain then. See you tomorrow."

Chapter Text

There was a big part of him that was hoping she bailed out, chose not to show up for some reason. Bruce would occasionally check his watch busy with his notes. Even if Angela forgot, he had to study, and sitting at the fountain was a nice place to do it. He couldn't go back to his room if he wanted, kicked out so his new roommate could flirt with his girlfriend/s without the 'genius' awkwardly reading at his desk. It had happened before and it didn't end well, not helping with Banner's idea of moving into a separate apartment off the campus.

He wanted to hide when he felt her tap his shoulder, smile on her face when she sat beside him. Glancing at her watch, she chuckled a little;

"Two fifteen exactly. Can't get much more punctual than that Bruce."

He scoffs, flipping the page on his notebook. Angela just crosses her knees, lifting her textbook from her backpack. She flips her hair to the side, ensuring that she can watch him through her peripheral vision;

"So...chapters 32-50 huh?"

Bruce takes a deep inhale and exhale, finding it difficult to follow through with her request for eye contact. He turns his head her way, eyes shifting from her chin to her eyes, and back down to the floor after seeing those big blue orbs;

"Uh...32, 34, 35, 37, 40-43, 45-48, and 50. Just the review questions on chapters 46 and 49. And then 36 for the essays and diagrams and...whatever else."

"Yeah, I know. It's ridiculous. And do you have a lot to study for your physics course?"

He shrugs, catching himself when his eyes focusing back onto the cement. He could've elaborated, but Bruce didnt think she was that interested. He nods, "Yes."

Angela gives a smirk at his awkward nature, tempted to brush that lock over his forehead. She looks back down at her notes, still trying to 'figure him out'.

It isn't long before the other classes have ended, students quickly bustling around the once emptied area. To Bruce, it seemed like everyone knew this 'Angela' girl, waving and giving a quick greeting before heading off in their own directions.

Miss Lipscombe was a pretty popular young lady, making Bruce feel slightly awkward when random students came up to talk to her. Angela would try to introduce the boy to her friends, but he would never say anything more then a very insecure 'hello'.

She glances at her watch once they leave, then back at him, "It's almost 3:00. Do you want to come over to my place to study?"

He shakes his head, tossing his books into his bag;

"No I have to work."

Angela smirks, recognizing she's gotten nothing done within the 45 minutes she's been sitting there;

"Oh. Where do you work?"

He shrugs, "At the Library. Why."

"Every Thursday?"

"Tuesday, through Friday, from 3:15 to 7:30, and all day Saturday and Sunday."

She nods, eyes narrowing when she picks up on his nervous tongue twirling habit;

"Oh. So, do you want to stop by my place around 8:00 later to study?"

He shrugs, tossing his backpack over his shoulder as he stands up to walk away;

"I- No. Not really."

Angela lifts her forefinger for him to wait before ripping a page from her notebook. She scribbles her number on the paper, folds it in half and hands it to him;

"Well, if you change your mind, you're more than welcomed. Just give me a buzz. I'm building G, third floor room 22. My roommate's 'Mary' just in case you call and she picks up the phone."

He just nods casually without any intention of contacting her as she shoves her number into his pocket. She stands up holding out her hand like she always does;

"So, I'll see you tomorrow if I don't see you later. Have fun at work, make the most of it I guess."

Bruce complies as usual, barely touching her when they shake hands, "Thanks."

She smiles politely, "Anytime Bruce. Take care."

Banner was ready to flip when he gave a push on his door, obviously locked out from a room that half belonged to him. He growled under his breath, worn out from his day of work and school. It was going on 8:30 and the only thing on his mind was sleep...but he had a test to study for.

Bruce drops his bag in the hallway, using the public phone in an attempt to call his own room. Peter answers, girls obviously snickering on the opposite end;

'Hello?'

Bruce tugs on his cheek, "Peter, I need to get in the room."

'Rob-by...Oh, why it's locked?'

He rolls his eyes, this being the second time he's changed the locks;

"It's not funny-"

'Look, I'll open the door tomorrow. Just sleep in the lobby for the night.'

He removes his glasses, rubbing viciously at his right eye. Bruce rams the pair into his sweatshirt pocket, hand stuck inside;

"I'm not kidding! Good God! You're making me so angry-"

'Ooooh. This I'd love to see.'

"Peter, look, I'm trying to get an apartment off campus you've just got to put up with me for another month or so..."

'Just wait in the lobby! I'll call you back in a few hours, and then you can come up here for the rest of the night. Deal?'

He rolls his eyes, slamming the phone back into it's place before storming out of the booth. Bruce lowers his head when he parks on the public sofa, students walking past him with a strange look on their faces, one girl utterly horrified by his initial fit.

-I'm just like Brian...I'm just like my father!

He buries his face into his open palms, rubbing his temples as he tucks into a tight ball in the corner, feet nervously rubbing over one another with his sneakers on. When he rests his forehead on his arms, it still bothers him that she's not here. Even if he's 18 years old, he wants nothing more than to be accepted and told that he's loved. It hurts to look at the shadows on the wall, reflecting the lights from the outdoors. It doesn't take much to rattle an old memory, to imagine her struggling to free herself from that 'monster's' grip.

He's exhausted, resolving to search through his bag for the only thing he has left of his best friend. Bruce hasn't struggled with these sort of feelings in a while, recently resurfacing in a more predominant shade then they had been before he started college. Loosing his Aunt Elaine no doubt added a few coals to a burning heartache. His fingers run over the picture, tracing over his mother's pretty brown hair. His eyes fill when he looks at hers; It hurts to recount a distant memory, practically hearing her pretty voice and tender words;

'...Other's may hurt you, but I would never. You're in my heart, and your there, forever.'

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

"Hey Bruce!"

He glances over his shoulder, rolling his eyes as he continues to walk down the hallway, "Hi Angela."

She stops at his locker, eyes following intently as he sorts through his books, "So, I missed you last night. Were you able to study?"

He scoffs, "You mean when my roommate finally let me in the room? No."

Lipscombe lowers her eyebrows, eyes widening, "What happened?"

He shakes his head sleepily, rubbing one hand over his forehead over a growing headache;

"Nothing, it's fine now."

Two girls walk by aimlessly pointing in his direction when they giggle to themselves. He spots them, slamming the door for his locker shut. There's a knot in his stomach, growing by the minute when he heads for the lab, random lock out of place. Angela contorts her mouth, continually following behind him after giving the two brunettes an evil stare down;

"Bruce, you could've come to my place. Mary was out with her boyfriend last night so, you wouldn't have needed to socialize if you didn't want to-"

He tosses his textbook onto the table, vials shaking over his abrupt action;

"Sorry."

She jumps, eyes closing when she regains her composure;

"It's okay. Are you alright?"

"Yeah why."

Angela holds her neck, sighing over his secretive nature;

"You can tell me. I'm not going to hurt you if that's-"

He snaps without any warning;

"No! Just stay away from me Angela! I'm a violent worthless mutant, with violent genes so just stay away from me!"

She jumps a second time, heart dropping when he falls back into a chair, head bowed low when he covers his face. There aren't any tears, or any hint of remorse. He just stays hidden, buried within his open palms.

Her mouth closes as quick as it opens. Quite honestly, she feels like slapping him. Wrapping a good one across his jaw and remind him never to yell at a woman. There's was a glistening in his stare that made her resist, a sense of sadness and complete distrust within his nature that made her stop. She bends over to pick up his glasses that fell moments ago, cleaning his lens off with the end of her top. She calmly parking herself beside him and waits. For whatever reason, she pitied the boy, seeing through his defensive exterior and rough demeanor.

Angela offers his belongings with an open palm without nudging him;

"Here, these might come in handy."

He sighs, eyes reopening as he looks at her with his blury vision. Bruce lifts a shaky hand, gently taking his glasses from her soft touch. He takes a deep breath, hunched over as he debates running 'home' for the day;

"Ugh. I'm sorry Angela...I didn't mean- I hope I didn't- just-forget it." He buries his head again, hand rubbing over his temple.

She rests her elbow on her knee, head on her hand;

"You know, there's nothing wrong with taking a sick day when you're not feeling well."

He looks up apologetically, too upset to put on his glasses. It's the first time she's seen his eyes without the frames, and they're just as expressive as she thought they'd be, saying things he'd never have the gut to come out with on his own.

She nudges him with her body, "Or playing hooky for one afternoon,' she glances at her watch,' I don't think missing one class would hinder your perfect grades."

He laughs through an exhale, still lacking the courage to look her in the eye;

"So, after I yell at you, you're still here...next to me."

"Is that an apology?' She offers her hand, holding her palm over his wrist as she tilts her head towards the door, 'Come on Bruce. We'll address your lack of self-control later. Right now, you need some fresh air."

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

They're parked back at the fountain by 7:00, mood lightened as she tells some silly story from her childhood, complete with gestures and facial expressions.

When she's finished, he shakes his head, foot swinging against the cement;

"Angela, I- I'm really sorry for being such an idiot before."

She nods, crossing her knees in a classy manner, "You're forgiven."

He widens his eyes, "Just like that?"

She nods a second time, "Yeah, why? You thought I'd hold a grudge?"

Bruce gives a shrug, head lowering before he catches himself;

"No, I mean- I was hoping you wouldn't, but I couldn't blame you if you did."

Angela rolls her eyes;

"You're hard not to forgive."

He sighs, feeling an odd sensation in his core when he looks at her, tugging on the back of his neck when he stands up abruptly;

"I should get back before Peter locks the door again."

She snickers, "Okay. And don't let him push you around like that! Stand up for yourself!"

He holds out his hand, gentle expression over his sweet face;

"Thanks Angela."

Miss Lipscombe lets him take her hand, shaking it a little firmer than usual.

"I'll see you tomorrow Bruce. And Good luck with the midterm."

"Thanks. You too."

Chapter Text

He had briefly mentioned his intentions of moving out of the dorm to her, but he was not expecting her to remember the date let alone arrived at his door with open arms and an eager desire to help. Bruce didn't have much to pack, a duffel with memories and necessities and a backpack with his school books.

Angela took the initiative to carry his backpack on the way out. The apartment he found wasn't too far away from the college, only a 10 minutes away.

Miss Lipscombe looked a bit unnerved when they walked in. Second floor, B12 had to have been the smallest room in the complex unless it was simply the most affordable for a college kid with limited funds.

It was two rooms really, a bedroom and a bathroom. He had enough room to set up a desk in the corner on the opposite end where his refrigerator was parked, but not much more. Angela tried to be polite about it, realizing this was more of a necessity for him then a luxury. He snickered when she made a comment;

"It's um, going to be nice to have your own place."

He gave her a look, "If Peter wasn't such a bully, I would've stayed in the dorm."

She sighs, leaving his backpack on the floor, "Anything else I can do for you?"

Bruce gives her an uneasy smirk, "I wasn't expecting you to, but thanks for helping."

"Oh no problem. You have my number, just let me know if you need anything."

He nods running a hand through his curls while he bites his cheek, "Thanks."

She just smiles and heads for the door. Banner takes a step behind her, following her through to the hallway;

"What up Bruce."

He shakes his head, "Nothing I just don't want you walking back by yourself."

Angela gives him a smile, "Oh please. What are you worried about?"

He shrugs, "Nothing, I'd just feel better if I knew you got back safely."

She can't argue with the boy and his big brown eyes, so she nods, politely taking up his offer for a handsome escort back to the campus. She looks up at her door;

"Thanks for walking me home."

He returns her smile, "Thanks for your help."

It's another two months before he finally results to calling Angela. School was rough, semester close to it's finale and he still was nervously waiting for his recent grades.

He'd gotten a new job off campus, tutoring a 1st grader in math every Monday evening. Emily was a dedicated young lady, always punctual, timid, and a bit shy. They usually met in the library, parked a desk in the main lobby while her mother attended lectures in the back room. On that day, even Emily knew something was wrong, especially when Bruce accidentally snapped at her only to apologize two seconds later. The girl gives him a look, far from being afraid of him;

"Mr. Bruce? Maybe you should get more sleep."

He felt awful over what he did to her, mind off of math for the remainder of their hour together.

He knew she liked roses, so in an attempt to make up for his mistake, he invested in a bundle. Just to see her big smile and wide eyes made purchasing those expensive weeds worthwhile.

Angela was shocked when she picked up the phone and heard his voice;

"Uh...hi Angela, it's Bruce, do you have a minute?"

-'Yeah, of course. Everything okay? You sound upset.'

"Um...yeah. Is...your roommate out?"

-'Sure is. Want to come over?'

"No. I just-"

She must have heard that tremor in his voice, shaky and irregular breathes as it didn't take her long to panic:

-'I'll be right over.'

It's exactly ten minutes before she knocks on his door, inviting herself in the instant he opens it;

"Alright spill."

He sighs, "I'm loosing my mind."

She nods, "You're stressed. You're burning yourself out."

"Well I don't know about that."

"It's in your eyes." Angela sighs, searching through his medical textbook while he gnaws at his thumbnail.

She glances over her shoulder after searching the glossary for 'stress and anxiety';

"You're probably exhausted,' she abandons her book, stealing the physics one from his lap, 'Bruce, please. Talk to me and tell me what's bothering you. And stop chewing on your nails-Don't bite your cheek."

He tugs at his fingers, "Angela, I can't breathe."

She reaches for his wrist to time his pulse, "You feel warm. Dizzy?"

He rolls his eyes, "Yes. My hands are buzzing."

Angela pinches his fingertips, "Numb?"

He nods, eyes closed as he tries to regain control, "I feel sick."

"Chest hurts?"

He nods, tremor rolling up his spine.

She brushes over his head, despite his pulling away and curling up on his chair. he growls when she lays a hand over his forehead;

"Stop touching me!"

She releases an exasperated sigh, "Will you relax?!"

Bruce succeeds in pulling his hand from her, burying his head in between his knees;

"Stop it already!"

"I'm trying to help you! Calm down for Christ sake!"

He yells angrily, clutching his gut, "Angela!"

She clenches her teeth, raising a fist. He winces when he strikes his cheek, falling off the chair as he covers over his head in a huddled ball. She freezes when she sees him shaking, refusing to look up at her.

Her eyes lose their tension, hand falling to her side, "Bruce?"

No answer.

"Bruce...' She kneels beside him, barely touching his back before he pulls away, 'I'm so sorry."

He cringes, head spinning and eyes burning when he 'hears' his father:

-You mutant! I should've killed you a long time ago!

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

He spots her in school heading up the hallway, starting up the conversation, "You know, you didn't have to stay with me last night."

She nods, eyes wide and apologetic, "Yeah, I did. I shouldn't have hit you."

He bites his cheek, "Yeah, it hurt. But I shouldn't have yelled."

Angela hands him a paper she's been working on since that morning;

"Do you realize you were having a panic attack?"

He shakes his head 'no', studying her paper.

"Bruce, I'm worried about you."

"Well you sure do have a strange way of expressing concern. You plan on hitting your patients when you get out of medica-"

Angela presses her mouth against his, cutting him off before he finishes his sentence. His body remains stiff, but his lips are soft against her own, just as endearing as the rest of him. His eyes stay open the whole time, paranoid over her physical contact. She pulls away slowly, worry over her face.

He gives her a look, retorting out of pure shock, "What was that?!"

She gives him a wide-eyed glance, "You've never been kissed before...?"

"No..." Bruce gives her a look. He'd never even heard of 'kisses' being on the mouth. It wasn't like his parents, or Aunt and Uncle displayed that sort of affection around the home.

Angela sighs, "People do it when they're...when they really like somebody."

He thinks for a moment in disbelief, "So, you, really like me?"

She nods, "I do. Do you really like me? Despite my bad temper?"

Bruce slightly tilts his head back and forth, before resolving to lean forward and give her the quickest peck on the mouth. His eyes close that time, shocking her with a smooth 'attack before he runs off for his class.

Chapter Text

"Hey Bruce!" Se runs to him with a smile on her face, parking beside her friend at the fountain.

He weakly returns her smile, eyes focused on his notes from the nuclear physics course;

"Hi Angela."

The blonde nudges him lightly, realizing he's preoccupied, "Do you remember when Mr. Lock had those doctors come in to give us information on new procedures?"

He nods, scribbling names of substances over his pad to find a proper equation. Her eyes read over his gibberish, trying her best to make sense of something she'll never understand;

"Well, Dr. Austin called me in for an internship this summer. He said it might lead to something more permanent."

Angela feels her heart drop when all Bruce does is turn his pencil over to erase the 'solution'. Banner's whispers are for himself when he moves the pencil frantically over the page;

"Ugh, stupid! You forgot...um,' he looks up at her blue eyes, feeling guilty for seemingly ignoring her, 'That's great Angela. Where's his office."

"Right off the main road. Did you get a call yet?" She crosses her knees, content with his current attention until he starts to scribble more gibberish up the side of his notebook.

"Call for what."

"An internship."

He shakes his head, glasses slipping down his nose, "No."

She narrow his focus, thoroughly confused for a number of reasons;

"I thought you had the highest average. Didn't you get a 100% on the latest exam?"

"99%."

She rolls her eyes at his correction;

"Same difference. Bruce, with the exception of you, the high for our class was an 84%."

He gives her a look, "What did you get?"

She shrugs, "The 84%. So why haven't you gotten a call?"

Bruce shrugs his shoulders, pushing his glasses back up the bridge of his nose before tugging on the sleeve of his sweatshirt;

"I don't know."

"Don't you think that's a little strange?"

He shrugs, repeating himself, "I don't know."

Angela drops it, seeing his defensive attitude kicking into high gear. She crosses her knee, brushing a loose strand behind her ear, "So...tell me what's going on with nuclear physics. Did you get a call for that?"

He sighs, running his free hand through his thick locks, "No, but I keep getting scholarships to other schools, and college grants, or whatever."

"That's good."

"Yeah, but it's a little weird."

"Why?"

He shrugs, "Well, all these people are writing me to come and work for them and, I don't know who they are. I haven't even finished school yet."

"Because they know you're an intelligent young man."

Bruce drops his pencil, removing his glasses before he looks at her, "But all they see is numbers. Anyone can get a good grade, even if they don't know anything about the field. All the tests show is how well you know the textbook not necessarily what you know about, let's say being a doctor. The book won't give you bedside manner."

She nods, "Okay, I see your point. But what about when a student excels, gets the highest grade in the entire college, and has an excellent reputation? Don't you think they're going to pay a little more attention to someone like that?"

"They shouldn't. Grades don't make, him, better then anyone else."

Angela contorts her mouth when he tugs on his fingers, "You're just saying that because you know I'm talking about you. Don't you have any self-esteem? There's nothing wrong with being a little proud of your accomplishments."

"Yeah what accomplishments...They're just numbers-" His pencil point snaps the instant he starts to write again, making a face of pure disgust when it happens.

She's quick to reach over and take it from him, replacing one of her own within his grip. He barely nods before frantically writing over the bottom of a covered page. Bruce gives a final glance over his work before returning her pencil, "Thanks."

She lifts an eyebrow, "Okay. So what was your solution?"

"Just, fundamental forces that lead to a specific interaction. I'm not going to bore you with specifics."

Angela nods politely, changing the subject, "So, what did you do for vacation?"

He folds his notebook before tossing it into his backpack, glasses ready to fall off his lap before she catches them, "Um, work. You?...Thanks."

She smirks, handing him those corrective lenses. Her blue eyes shift up towards his pretty brown ones, "I went to visit my parents."

She drops her possible question on family, hesitant to bring up something that might shut him down. Bruce gives her a nod, slipping his glasses back onto his face. She sighs, wishing he kept them off a little longer.

Miss Lipscombe spots that lock over his forehead, eyes nervously shifting back down to her bag. He's adorable, sharp, and awkwardly charming;

"I was, wondering, if you wanted to go grab something to eat with me. Just down at the pizza place."

He shifts his focus back at the ground, standing up and tossing his backpack over his shoulder, "Thanks for the offer, but I can't. I have to study."

She sighs uncrossing her legs, "What if I order in. You can come to my place. My roommates away...and I'll help you study after."

Bruce gives her a strained smirk, free hand tugging the back of his neck, "I-."

Angela cuts him off, standing up as she takes up his wrist, "-have no excuse. Come on Bruce. And I'll let you go home at a reasonable hour."

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

She's quick to cover her mouth to block her snickering as she reads off review questions from his textbook. He seems to have a sarcastic answer for every question, rubbing his eye and forehead when she gets to the last one. Angela closes his book and leaves it on her table keeping an eye on her friend, "You're not getting enough sleep are you?"

Banner shakes his head, holding it up by the heel of his palm, "Probably not. I should get back,' he glances at her clock, 'Oh snap. I'm sorry Angela."

She rests a hand over his, pausing him in his frantic motion, "Bruce! Bruce, relax. I, I don't want you going back to your apartment at 1 in the morning."

He scoffs sleepily, getting his stuff together, "I'll be fine Angela."

She grabs his arm, loosening on her grip when he jumps. She keeps forgetting about his anxcious nature and preference not to be touched;

"Sorry. Bruce, not for nothing, but you don't live in the most respectable of locations. I'd feel a lot better if you just stayed here for the night."

He repeats himself, unzipping a few inches off the top of his sweatshirt for air. Her heart goes racing the instant she sees him in something less baggy, eyes dropping in pure nervousness, spotting his more form fitting button down. It's still baggy, but much more formable for his delicate nature. He's no jock for sure, but his build is just enough to be considered attractive.

Bruce obviously spotted her at a loss for words, misunderstanding her action;

"Are you alright?"

She nods, startled by his comment. She practically whispers, "Yeah, I'm fine...' she catches herself, 'So you're staying for the night?"

He takes a step back, free hand running through his thick curls, "No, but thanks for everything."

Angela smiles weakly, leaning against the wall, "Thank you. You paid for the food."

"So, I'll see you tomorrow?"

She nods, "At the fountain?"

"2:15?"

"Sure thing. Um...see you later Bruce."

He nods, hand wrapping over her knob, "Yep."

Angela takes a step towards him, "Bruce,' her head rests against the wall beside her, 'um...good luck with your test tomorrow."

"Thanks." Bruce smiles, an odd feeling pooling through his gutt when she makes eye contact with him. She's pretty, he'll give her that; with her long blonde hair and pretty blue eyes...

Maybe he was staring for a second too long, giving her too much food for thought and an oppertunity to plant a kiss on his tender lips. She keeps her hands to herself, remembering his hatred for physical contact, and she was pretty sure this was pushing it.

The instant they separate he bolts out the door and closes it behind him. She sighs heavily, pinning her back against the door before she holds onto her head. Guilt spills over her for letting him get away when she knows he should have stayed.

His back is pinned against the wall, outside of her door. His eyes are closed, image of her pretty face burning in the back of his mind. Bruce holds his head, unsure of how to handle her affections. He feels overwhelmed, emotions running strong.

He hates contact, so why is he craving it? Is he craving it?

He keeps a firm grip on his head, butterflies pooling in his gutt.

Why? Is he sick?

Bruce closes his eyes, having a strange desire to run back inside and kiss her.

But she might touch him again!...He squeezes his eyes subconsiously, ready to deal with it when he reopens her door.

He gives her a quick glance, realizing she's just as shocked as he is before he presses his mouth over hers with less restraint. He's shaking, completely afraid and thoroughly confused.

Angela feels her head press against the wall, proving he's the one pushing back. When her eyes crack open, she smirks. It's sweet, but beyond obvious that the boy has no experience. Angela wraps a gentle hand around his head, guiding him through the motions as she turns in between kisses.

He knew she was bound to grip his hair and he hates it. Still, there's something about her gentle lips and big heart that keep him right where he is.

His backpack falls off his shoulder as she kicks the door shut with her foot.

. . . . . . . . . . .

"Jen, come on we're going to be late."

The girl sighs, clicking her phone off for the fifth time that morning, "Coming Daddy."

There's a smile over the face of the proud father, eyes fixed on his pretty daughter;

"You okay sweetheart?"

She shrugs, twirling her graduation cap over her finger, "Yeah, great, why."

"Still trying to call Robert?"

Jennifer looks down, taking a step towards the door, "No why would I do that. Come on Dad let's go."

Her comment is far from convincing. Her father knew better, and just how much her cousin meant to her. He leaves it, noticing that look on her face;

"Baby, wait. I need a picture."

She groans, "Dad! Not now!"

He hovers a finger over the shutter, "Smile!"

The girl gives a sarcastic expression, "Dad! Are you going to do this all night?"

He smiles, "Why not? My girl's going to be a Criminal Lawyer! That's a big deal! You're your Daddy's daughter, but you got your mother's face."

She smirks half-heartedly, remembering her original dreams of being a dancer; "Mommy always said I looked like you."

He shakes his head, holding the door for them, "No, she was just trying to make me feel better."

Jennifer climbs into the passenger seat when her father starts the car, "I love you daddy."

Morris gives a heavy sigh, wrapping his arms around his daughter with the car in park;

"I love you Jennifer. And I don't care how big you get, you'll always be my little girl."

. . . . . . . . . . . . .

The blonde jumps from the opposite bed, lifting up a buzzing cellular before she yawns, "One new voicemail Bruce."

His eyes peel open, barely awake and still in his sweatshirt and jeans, "From who?"

She sits up straighter eyes narrowing suspiciously, "Jennifer?"

He jumps up, running a hand through his messy curls in a groggy haze. He's quick to open his message, much to Angela's dismay, "So is that why? Because there's someone else?"

Bruce narrows his focus in confusion, "Why what?"

"Why you didn't sleep with me last night?"

He rolls his eyes, disturbed by her comments as he refocuses on Jenn's message as he picks up his backpack;

"She's my cousin Angela!"

She sighs, regretting her tone, "Sorry, I didn't know."

He snaps, hearing Jenn's brief voicemail, "And I missed her graduation. Great. Probably hates me right now..."

Angela sighs, standing up beside him as she rests a hand over his arm, "Easy, just breathe. I'm pretty sure she doesn't hate you Bruce. Just take it easy."

He breathes heavy, trying to calm down quikly. His eyes look up towards her, "Do you hate me?"

She leans forward planting a quick peck on his mouth, "Not at all."

"Are you mad at me?"

"Why would I be mad at you?"

"I don't know, are you?" He drops his hand to the side in frustration.

"No! Bruce, I- I like you, a lot."

He's shocked, eyes roving down in pure insecurity, "Still?"

She shrugs, leaning her head forward in an attempt to look him in the eye, "Surprised?"

He scoffs, but she doesn't give him a chance to answer, "Go ahead hon. You've got class in an hour. I see you later."

Chapter Text

So, I got another grant for graduate work this morning."

He freezes, tongue nervously trailing over his mouth when the point on his pencil snaps within his grip. The fountain spraying behind him, her blonde hair swaying lightly in the breeze. She gives him a look when he doesn't reply, eyes roving up and down his delicate frame and pretty chocolate curls;

"What? You with me hon? You okay Bruce?"

He sighs, less then enthused, "Yeah, that's great Angela."

She smirks, chuckling to her self;

"It's in neuropsychiatry...if you care."

He sighs, dropping the pencil to remove his glasses and rub viciously at his eyes;

"No, of course I care."

She sits back, knees crossed when she looks at her nails;

"Maybe, if you want to, you can come over later. My roommate went to visit her parents. If you want, maybe you could, spend the night? Like you did, before? I'd love-"

He jumps up before she finishes;

"Sorry Angela, I've got a lot of work to do. Unlike you, I'm not getting calls left and right for a job in my field, fields."

She nods, "Okay. Don't burn yourself out on me. Did you get anything yet?"

"No! Because gamma particles are supposedly 'just a theory'. Keep turning me down."

"I'm sorry hon. Something will happen eventually, I promise."

He smirks, planting a hesitant kiss on her forehead;

"Goodnight Angela."

Miss Lipscombe lays a hand on the bottom of his sweatshirt, tugging the bottom down;

"See you tomorrow? 2:15?"

He nods running off to catch the public bus;

"As usual."

She stands up, following him with his textbook in her grip;

"Hold up Bruce! Wait, you forgot your book!"

He sighs, thoroughly exhausted with his hands already full. His lock falls over his forehead;

"Thanks Angela."

She smirks, warning him before she gently presses her mouth over his;

"Hold still hon,' she makes her move, running a hand through his hair, 'Call me. I'll see you tomorrow Bruce. Love ya."

He nods, jumping onto the bus. He gives her a double take, still stuck on 'love ya'. He holds his head, as the cab rolls off.

Who'd love him? Heck she's a good liar!

Bruce feels an envelope slip from his textbook, poking him in his thigh. He rolls his eyes before opening it, glancing over his grades for the past few years. As usual he aced every class, credits galore in every science and medical course offered. He'd get his PhD in the mail by the end of the year, it was garunteed. School was wrapping up, and he started to feel lost.

And what happened then?

It wasn't like he had a home to run to, no family to welcome him back once he was finished. At least Angela had plenty of job offers, plenty in the field of her choice. And what did he have? certificates and degrees, and no future. He clenches his teeth, roughly hurling his envelope back into his textbook.

He shuts his eyes, coming up with random square roots to distract him from the tension burning inside. He couldn't pay up and jump off that darn public transportation fast enough, running through his apartment complex.

He silently got out on his floor, tossing his books into the small room of his apartment before emptying the loose change from his pockets into a jar. Bruce debates on studying, before collapsing onto his mattress, eyes quickly closing, mind shutting down to give him nothing less then another nightmare.

"Brian stop!"

"It's in your blood! You're a mutant! There's no reason why your alive!"

"Daddy! Leave mommy alone!"

"Look at me you freak! ...You are worthless and you always will be!"

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Angela lingered at that fountain for a good hour and half, sighing a little more agitated when her watch reads '3:30', and still no sign of Bruce Banner. She found it hard to accept he'd be a 'no show' after everything they'd been through together. She felt bad for never getting his number, remembering this was the last day of medical school.

Her friends had just gotten out of class, taking the time to stop for her;

"Hey Angela. Waiting for someone?"

She sighs, looking up with her teeth clenched, "No. I'm not. Where you guys headed?"

"Dinner down the street. Want to come?"

She nods, throwing her backpack over her shoulder, "Sure. Got nothing else to do."

She keeps her head down, mind on that dark-haired disaster for a good portion of the evening before she resolves to drop it;

'He has my number. If he cares, he'll contact me...'

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Bruce had purposely taken another path home, avoiding the fountain. He mapped out his path to avoid Angela, even if it meant a longer walk home.

He takes slow steps until he's cut off his path by one of his physics teachers;

"Banner!"

He freezes, glancing around in the sunset before he spots the figure;

"Yes Sir?"

He hands him an elaborate envelope;

"This just came for you. You managed to pass with a 100% average."

Bruce just stares at the folded paper within his grip;

"They're just numbers."

His teacher rolls his eyes;

"You're an intelligent kid, genius in nuclear physics. It amazes me. I'll see you tomorrow at graduation."

He finally looks up with a nod;

"Thank you Sir."

He smirks;

"We're going to miss you kid. You're going to really be something, you know that?"

Bruce just shrugs, proving the comment just went over his head. The taller man give him a tap on the shoulder;

"Oh. And, I've been in touch with an Army General. He's been supposedly tracking your progress since middle school. He really sees potential in you, wants to hire you immediately."

Bruce's eyes seem to light up at the possibility of work in his field. No more library sounded especially nice;

"Where?"

"At a U.S. Defense Department nuclear research facility. Desert Base New Mexico. You've got the first flight Thursday morning at the commanders expense. Good luck Banner. You're a hard worker, you deserve this. I'll see you tomorrow."

Chapter Text

Graduation was a bit intimidating to say the least, genuinely overwhelming due to the sheer number of students shoved into the small facility.

Bruce personally was anxious to rid that sweaty uniform, already heading for public transportation with his diplomas in one hand. From the corner of his eye, he spotted Angela on his way out, practically glowing as she giggled with her friends and parents. He let himself grin, sneaking around the back to avoid bumping into her. He was happy for the girl. Angela would get what she wanted, what she worked so hard for.

"Hey Banner!"

Bruce was ready to run when he heard that familiar voice behind him, one that could only belong to Peter. He stopped, holding a look of pure shock when the taller boy offered an open hand;

"Just wanted to congratulate you. Good luck Banner."

He smiles, not expecting such a reaction from him;

"Thanks Peter. Same to you."

A larger gentleman makes his way towards the boys, politely interjecting once Peter makes his way back up to his class. The man was slightly overweight and had a much firmer build. His voice eased that nervous feeling from Bruce, offering another open hand;

"Selvig, Eric Selvig."

His eyes widen, completely lost for words;

"Bruce, Banner."

"It's 'Dr. Banner' now. I've heard a lot about you."

He felt so awkward, head lowering in display of his typical insecurity. He was slightly embarrassed, meeting one of his modern contemporary idols in the strangest of circumstances. Bruce felt like an idiot;

"Yes, I've heard a lot about you too. Your research- I mean, everything you've been working on. It's quite remarkable really."

The older man gives a smile, "I didn't realize I was so popular, let alone my work."

"Oh! I read about it. Genius really. I always believed it was possible actually, they just could never find the right compounds to prove the theory."

"Exactly. My only dilemma was the test subjects, but you can't get anything for free, right?"

He shrugs nervously forgetting that minor detail, "Are they alright?"

"Safe, yes. Sane? I'm still not sure. Lord only knows."

Bruce changes the subject, picking up on Selvig's nervous energy;

"I wasn't expecting to meet you, here. I always imagined running into you sometime in the future, in a lab or on a project- Um, how did you know who I was?"

He chuckles, "Me neither. My baby cousin is graduating, had to support her. I studied with Mr. Wood when I went to college. When I saw him, he pointed you out. He speaks very highly of you. You'll do well in your field."

"I'll try my best Sir."

He gently pats the younger boy on the shoulder;

"Eric, just Eric. I'm not old enough for 'Sir'. Nice meeting you Dr. Banner. I'm sure our paths will cross again."

"You too. And congratulations to your cousin."

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

His heart was pounding a mile a minute, hands growing numb by the second. there was no turning back now, this was it. Everything he had worked so hard for was about to reach a peak in this very moment.

Bruce took a deep breath, eyes closing before he headed for the door. His fingers were trembling so fast he swore he almost missed the bell. The dark-haired boy took another inhale.

What did he have to be so worried about?

The instant the door swung open, his cheeks felt like they were burning, hands fussing with the duffel over his shoulder;

"Hi- I'm here to see General Ross?"

The taller man nods, double checking his schedule, eyes roving up and down Bruce al least twice;

"Banner?"

"Yes Sir."

He lifts an eyebrow before inviting him into the base, "Follow me."

That hallway seemed like it would never end, only to come to another desk. He breathed easier at this point, taking in everything around him as he tried his best to contain his nervous energy. Bruce was starving for a challenge and a nice clean lab. He craved an oppertunity to practice what he learned, maybe indulge in a theory he never had the chance to prove.

Those perfect brown orbs eventually made their way to the desk in front of him, realizing the gentleman had stopped for a reason. The dark-haired girl behind the desk looks up from her work, waiting for an explanation.

She was slender, pretty blue tinted eyes to compliment her delicate frame. She stood up, friendly smile on her face;

"Thank you Thomas, I'll take it from here. Dr. Banner?,' she holds out her hand, 'Elizabeth Ross. Will you follow me please?"

His eyes light up, smiling politely as he shakes her hand, "Sure. Of course, yes. Thank you Miss Ross."

She kept that pretty smirk, heading for the elevator before tugging on her elegant suit. Elizabeth can't help but look him over, expecting a much older individual from the way the general bragged about this man and his brilliant mind. She refocuses on her nails when she realizes he's caught her staring. He was a handsome young man in her opinion, and from the few moments they spent together, she reached the conclusion that his eyes had to be the most expressive she'd ever encountered.

They stepped out of the elevator, awkwardly smiling at each other in a silence. Curiosity gets the better of him, walking one step behind his guide;

"So, um, Miss Ross, you're a physicist?"

"Cellular Biologist." She smiles when she corrects him.

His eyes seem to light up, "Oh! So you must have heard about the recent adjustment as far as the role of actin in the nucleoskeleton is concerned."

She smiles, glancing over her shoulder, thrilled to hear someone finally able to 'speak her language'; "Yes. Actin filaments acting as tension sensors. It really helps us biologists understand the role of such a dynamic, but, you're a physicist right?"

He nods, "Yes ma'am."

"So, what- how did you hear about the discovery?"

"I read about it."

She smiles, "You surprised me. Almost no one around here understands what I'm blabbing about half the time."

"Actually, what got me was the numbers they mentioned in the article after they broke everything down."

Elizabeth has no problem filling in the details, recalling the exact sheet he was referring to;

"That's right. It was a random angular disorder of 2.5 per subunit."

"I thought the conclusion was 0.2? I don't mean to correct you, but I really feel like the conclusion could've only been .2, considering all those other factors that weren't mentioned in the article."

She freezes, thinking for a moment to sort out her mistake;

"Oh, yes, you're right. That was to explain half the extension that was already observed...I'm impressed Dr. Banner."

He's lost in thought, still analyzing something she was ready to drop;

"So what was the point of cross-linking the proteins within the project?"

She shrugs, "Just to see how they react I guess."

"That's been done before. They could've just analyzed an already existing hypothesis and tested their theory."

"I guess they wanted to see it for themselves."

He shrugs, hand running through his thick curls, "Or they could've based their conclusion on-"

"I thought I told you to get this moron out of my way?! Elizabeth!"

Her eyes close, gently tapping Bruce to stay put;

"Coming Daddy."

The man came out with a deep crease between his eyebrows, ranting and raving to three of his assistants;

"Where's that idiot I hired yesterday?"

The secretary snaps her gum, blonde hair falling over her right eye;

"With all due respect Sir, you fired him yesterday."

Bruce takes a heavy swallow, nervously jumping when the man storms his way, brushing past him without a sideways glance. Betty follows him, urging Bruce to follow her;

"Um, Daddy, there's something I need to-"

"Not now Betty! Igor!"

"Sir, I can't process it."

He snaps, eyes widening as he shouts, "You what?!"

"I can't do it! It's a problem within the system."

"Oh, you better pray it is!"

Betty brushes a loose strand behind her ear, nudging a Colonel from her way;

"Daddy, there's someone-"

"Elizabeth!"

She freezes, eyes closing, "Yes Daddy."

"Why are you up here?!"

"Because there's someone here-"

He turns his head away, to scream at someone else;

"And where's that Banner boy I'm supposed to meet?!"

Her eyes close, "Daddy-"

The General storms back into the other room, grabbing Bruce's shoulder;

"You new here?!"

He nods, eyes wide and a bit taken back by his strange introduction to the man;

"Yes Sir, I'm-"

Igor yells from the lab, "Betty! Coffee! Decaf!"

She holds her head, "One minute Igor."

His eyes roll, yelling towards Banner;

"Well! Go clean my office or something! Make yourself useful isn't that what I'm paying you for?!"

His heart drops, brushing the lock from his forehead with slight disappointment;

"Yes Sir."

Betty crosses her arms, mouth opening only to be interrupted by the secretary;

"General Ross? Banner was supposedly due here 10 minutes ago."

"General Ross! I got the systems up and running!"

"Good for you! Elizabeth!"

"Father?"

"General, Thomas just phoned and said Banner came in about a half hour ago."

"Well where is that boy?!"

Elizabeth grinds her teeth remaining patient;

"Dad, you just sent him to your office."

He growls, storming off for his office;

"Follow me Betty, you don't belong up here anyway."

Ross nearly screamed when he spotted Bruce, double checking for his own sanity;

"Dr. Banner?"

Bruce looks up, glasses slipping down his nose, "Sir?"

The General sighs in pure disgust, plopping in his office chair after slamming the door to lock the three of them in his office;

"You're Banner? Robert Bruce Banner?"

He nods, offering an open hand, "It's, nice to meet you General."

Ross simply glares at him, elbow rested on his desk as he studies his new scientist. His disappointment is evident, much to Betty's dismay who waits in the corner for instructions. He snarls, tossing a paper onto his desk. He eventually breaks that awkward silence;

"You're thin, short, introverted...You brought your papers?"

He nods, reaching into his duffel. Ross gives an evident eye roll when he takes more than a few seconds to sort through his papers, glasses slipping even further down his nose;

"Here, Sir."

He covers his mouth, analyzing the grades. Of course this was Bruce, but some part of him was hoping there was some mistake. He sighs, before addressing the boy he can't seem to look in the eye;

"Alright Banner. You're going to build me a bomb. You start tomorrow morning working with Igor. 7 AM, no excuses. Elizabeth, show him to his quarters. You have an apartment in the area?"

He nods, "I think so Sir."

His eyes look like daggers, piercing through his soul;

"Yes or no son. It's not complicated. You know the area?"

"Yes Sir. I grew up in New Mexico."

He nods, glaring at his daughter to move a little faster. Her feet move as fast as they can carry her;

"Um, Dr. Banner, you can come with me."

Bruce nods his head, eagerly following her out of that office.

The General reaches automatically for his phone, dialing the first number that comes to mind as he reads over the files that were handed to him. He rolls his eyes when an envelope slips from his files, addressed to him from a college professor. He sighs, slamming his phone back onto the cradle, and lighting a cigar before opening the two-page letter.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Betty tried to be helpful, organizing his small space;

"I'm sorry you caught my father in such a bad mood."

"Everyone's entitled to a bad day every once in a while." Bruce scoffs, setting up one of his most valuable possession on top of his desk. She glances over her shoulder, spotting him frozen, arms crossed as he stares at a picture. Curiosity gets the better of her as she walks up to him. Her eyes focus on the same thing he is, studying the woman with the pretty brown hair and gentle features;

"Your mom?"

"Yeah." He smiles, trying to appear unaffected when taken out of his trans. He sighs before starting to unpack the rest of his necessities for work.

"I'm sorry." She looks down, hesitant to say much more then that.

He shrugs, "Nothing you can do about it, right?"

She nods, "If it's, any consolation my mom died with I was fourteen. So, I know, that sort of feeling tends to linger."

He nods, throwing his duffel back over his shoulder, "Unfortunately. Miss Ross, well, Dr. Ross, I'm going to check out my apartment. I guess I'll see you tomorrow."

Elizabeth gives him a smile, "I'll be here. And feel free to call us if you need anything."

Bruce pushes his glasses up, opening the door to let her out first;

"Thank you ma'am. I appreciate it."

She closes her eyes, tugging on the bottom of her skirt before she corrects him;

"Your welcome. And, it's Betty, Dr. Banner."

He smiles, holding out his hand to offer her a formal good bye;

"Bruce. It's a pleasure Betty."

She offers him a gentle shake, heart beat racing when he touches her hand;

"Get some rest Doc. Daddy's a drill Sargent."

He chuckles, "I've noticed. So, um, he doesn't push you around like that all the time right?"

"No. Daddy's just overwhelmed.' She follows him to the door, "But don't let him push you around too much."

"I won't."

"Do you need a ride?"

"I should be alright. Take care Miss Ross."

She chuckles, "Betty, Bruce. It's Betty."

Chapter Text

"That won't work Igor. You need specifics. Here, look."

Bruce takes the initiative to sketch out a few possibilities on the board, noting particular equations and chemical combinations that would fulfill Ross' request. The more he dissected it, the more Banner grew more and more uncomfortable with the idea of creating such a destructive weapon.

The assistant glanced around the room, almost bored to tears while Bruce gave him a detailed explanation;

"And I suppose you're still under the impression that I'm actually paying attention to you right now."

He freezes caught off guard by the remark. His fingers run over the pen, tongue rolling over his upper lip;

"I guess I just assumed you'd carry yourself professionally."

He smirks, snicker becoming a bigger laugh as he mumbles to himself;

"Oh you oblivious-."

"Coffee Igor?" Betty stood in the door, hair pinned half up in the back.

He smirks, glaring at Banner until he steals the drink from Miss Ross;

"Tell your father I'm taking my break."

She sighs, nervously rubbing her finger over the tray. She tilts her head, watching the new boy sketch out a few extra possibilities;

"Would you like any coffee Dr. Banner?"

He smiles looking over his shoulder, too busy to break for a moment;

"No thank you, Dr. Ross."

She lowers her tray over at his desk, hands clasped behind her back as she studies his work;

"It's very thorough."

He tilts his head, adding up a solution, "Eh. Not completely accurate."

"It's not bad for your third day on the job Dr. Banner. I'm impressed."

He bites his lip almost subconsciously, watching her through his peripheral vision as she looks his papers. Bruce feels his fingers go numb, aimlessly twirling his chalk between his thumb and first finger. She's a pretty woman, and that smile on her face reminds him of something he hadn't seen in years. The color on her cheeks, glowing eyes, tender lips that curved upwards every time she looked at him. It was like she was always glowing, just like his mother before things changed. He catches himself staring when she glancing over her shoulder, brushing a lock over his forehead before going back to his work.

She snickers to herself, gentle fingers running over his equations;

"I hope Igor doesn't give you too much trouble."

He smirks, "I wasn't told that I'd be working with such a stubborn mule, but I wasn't told that much about this place come to think of it. Just that I'd be working for a General."

Betty shakes her head, slipping his papers back to where she found them;

"Daddy, thinks he's got a name to live up to. Ever since he's been nicknamed 'Thunderbolt.'"

"Prideful?"

She shrugs, "I guess.-"

"Betty!"

She jumps when she hears him calling once again, "Coming Daddy."

He growls, finger pointed in her direction;

"Stop distracting the man and let him work. Didn't I tell you to go home anyway?"

Betty lowers her head, bangs falling just above her eyes;

"I'm sorry Daddy. I just wanted to be closer to you."

Bruce narrows his focus chiming in for her sake;

"She's not a problem Sir and I think you should be more tactful with your daughter."

She jumps, "Oh no Dr. Banner, Daddy didn't mean it that way."

He crosses his arms, thick eyebrows lowering;

"I'll decide how I'm going to treat my own flesh and blood! And how's that bomb coming along?"

He sighs, eyes shifting between Betty and his board;

"Well, it's got potential to be used for the better. Basically it flip-flops the neutron bomb. So instead of destroying people and leaving property, the gamma bomb would destroy property, without taking lives."

He sighs, "Look son, I-"

Bruce shuts his eyes, heart pounding at the nickname;

"Don't call me 'Son'."

"I'm not exactly the fatherly type, but my orders were to go easy on you boy. Bottom line, I need some namby-pamby feel-good 'safe' weapon. I need something to put the fear of God into the enemy."

He retorts without any hint of restraint much to Betty's surprise;

"The fear of God General, or the fear of you?"

He scoffs, "Same difference. You've got a conscience but you're still just a boy. I knew they should've sent me a military man for this damn thing!" He pauses, almost marveling at the papers and other equations. "I knew your father at Los Alamos Banner. Now there was a real man. It's a shame you didn't learn anything from him-"

Bruce shuts his eyes, forefinger nervously rubbing over his piece of chalk;

"The jury, was right to call him a murderer."

Ross fills in the blanks for the shear purpose of testing his employees patience;

"That jury found him insane for killing your mother because there was no other explanation for it. He was a good man, Banner. Unfortunately that unswerving dedication to his work probably made him unstable. I can only imagine his offspring would have the same problems and dammit! My project is too important to have such an emotionally disturbed youth come in here and wreck it for me!"

Betty takes a heavy swallow, nervously brushing a stray hair behind her ear;

"Daddy please. Dr. Banner knows what he's doing."

Ross clenches his jaw even tighter as he heads for the door;

"He better."

Banner shuts his eyes, tempted to hurl his writing utensil at the door when he hears it slam. His muscles tense when he feels the girl touch his shoulder;

"Please don't let him get to you Bruce. I'm sure he's happy to have you here."

He gently pulls away from her touch, almost as if he didn't hear a word she said;

"I hate the way he talks to you."

She shrugs, confiding in the respectful young man in front of her;

"My father's just mad he didn't have a son, basically shut me out of his life after mommy died. I know he doesn't mean half the things he says."

Bruce narrows his focus, looking over the frame of his eye glasses;

"Still, there's no excuse to talk to your daughter that way."

Her head lowers, eyes slowly sneaking back up to his pretty face. There was something almost irresistable about the slender nuclear physicist with the thick wavy hair. His hand ran through his hair before giving her his attention. They both smiled when they made eye contact, causing her cheeks to flush a pinkish color.

Bruce broke his contact, tossing his writing utensil into a bin;

"So, Miss Ross what are you doing after work?"

She runs a hand over her opposite elbow with a hopefulness in her pretty eyes;

"Oh, well, nothing really. Why do you ask?"

He smirks, "Well, I'd be honored if you'd let me, maybe take you for dinner someplace?"

Betty jumps at his offer, smile on her face;

"Oh, were you thinking, maybe around 6:00?"

Bruce nods when she chimes in, unable to look at the glow in her stare without returning her warm expression;

"Sure, if you are okay with that."

Miss Ross brushes the ends of her hair;

"I'd love to Bruce. I'd be the honored one."

He nods, lock falling over his forehead, "Okay, 6:00 then."

"Dr. Banner!' Igor storms back inside files within his grasp, 'From the General. Specifics he wants you to work with. Elizabeth can't you go inside or something?! You know your father doesn't want you here!"

Betty lowers her head, slightly startled by Igor's demanding attitude. She gives a backwards glance over her shoulder, watching as Igor roughly tugs on Banner's collar to get his attention. He seemed less then comfortable with being touched let alone pulled around cringing the instant it happened. Igor's mouth was running off at his typical high speed, hands waving expressively. And Betty couldn't help but feel bad for Bruce's rough introduction the base, only to be thrown into a big project with a cranky assistant and demanding boss.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

She wore what she considered to be her best, anxiously checking whatever clock was closest to her as she dashed around her home.

Ross watched basically in a fit as he looked up from his newspaper;

"Come on woman! Can't you settle somewhere?"

She wrinkles her face, "Daddy..."

He growls when the telephone rings, tossing his paper onto the table before his daughter goes running up the stairs;

"I'll take it in my room."

Her father rolls his eyes;

"And for the record, I'm locking the door at midnight!"

She calls back down the stairs, shoes clicking as she runs for her bedroom;

"Yes Daddy."

Betty closes her door before answer the telephone, voice just above a whisper;

"Hello?"

-"Hello. Betty? It's Bruce"

She knew that voice;

"Hi Bruce."

-"Um, I think I'm outside your door. 220 right?"

She smiles, "Yes. I'll be right out."

Betty runs from her room, pausing in the mirror for exactly two seconds before dashing down the steps. She snags her shall from off the stairs, planting a kiss on her father's cheek;

"Bye Daddy."

The General looks up when she kisses him, growling until she heads for the door;

"Betty you'll be home before 12."

She nods, "Yes Father."

"And I want to meet this boy before you go out with him again."

Betty nods, "Daddy! You know him."

"No! I don't!"

"Yes you do, he's-"

He rolls his eyes without letting her finish, "Just go before I change my mind."

She sighs when he heads for the door, letting Betty leave before he studies the figure in the car. His eyes narrow, eyebrows lower as he watches his little girl climb in the passenger seat. He looked familiar, thick dark chocolate locks, slender frame. She looked happy with him, pretty smile on her face...

...He growls, already forbidding his daughter in his head to ever go out with the stranger again. As neglectful and careless as he was, Ross wasn't ready to give up his little girl.

Ross gave a yawn, swearing when he hears the phone ringing as he slams his door. He'd interrogate later.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

She giggled, pointing out her window;

"That's the complex you live in right?"

He nods, sharp eyes looking over the road ahead of him. She occasionally watches how he looks over his glasses rather than through them depending on the area;

"So you're far-sighted?"

He nods, "Yep. And how about you Miss Ross? I saw you put on glasses yesterday to look over those files."

Betty nods, "Sometimes I need them to see things at a distance. So, I guess I'm nearsighted then,' she jumps, smile on her face, 'Oh! Are we going here?"

Bruce likes watching the excitement that spreads over her face, "Sure if that's okay..."

"It's my favorite. Simple and elegant."

He smiles, hand over his mouth. Bruce wasted little time on the details, listening carefully to everything she'd ever told him those past few days. She did managed to slip in this particular detail about a day ago in a casual conversation. It made him feel good to bring that smile to her pretty face.

She was completely at a loss for words when he opened all the doors for her, from the car to the building. Betty waits until he sits across from her to say a word;

"Thank you Dr. Banner, I'm, speechless really."

He shrugged, tugging on the bottom his jacket;

"It's just 'Bruce', Miss Ross. And you're welcome."

She glances over her menu, dropping it when he calls her by her last name;

"And when are you going to start calling me 'Betty'?"

Bruce smirks, fingers idling sketching out square roots;

"Betty...short for Elizabeth. It's a pretty name. A pretty name for a pretty girl- are you cold?"

Betty looks up, only now spotting the air conditioner above her head;

"No, feels good actually, but- Bruce..."

She blushes when he gives her his jacket, wrapped over her shoulders. It wasn't possible for Betty to hide those chill bumps no matter how hard she tried, and he was too observant for her to lie and tell him otherwise;

"Thank you Bruce."

He smirks, pouring an ice chip from his water into his mouth. It was nice to have something cool down his throat, boiling from nervous anxiety;

"So, where di you study cellular biology?"

"California, actually. It was quite an experience. Unfortunately I had just returned from boarding school so I was still adjusting to my new circumstances. I wasn't able to get the most out of my courses, especially since I started working at a nearby library to fund some of my other expenses. Daddy paid for most of it, but he always tried to teach me independence. Did, you work while you were in college?"

He swallows another ice chip, hand rubbing over his throat, "I did. I worked in a library too for a while, before I started tutoring a young girl in math and science."

She nods, "Two fields in which I've never seen anyone so dedicated and knowledgable as yourself."

"Well, you're pretty sharp in the field yourself. Talking about actin, and sensors..."

"Yes about that. Um,' she reaches into her bag, removing a pad and pen, 'I wanted to ask you, what did you say was the correct ratio? I know you said 0.2 but how is that possible?"

He smirks, leaving an open palm on the table;

"I can show you if you want."

She nods almost mechanically, eager to hear his detailed response as she hands him her pad;

"Okay." She freezes when she hands him the pencil, touching his hand unintentional for the first time. Betty pulls away slowly, brushing her hair behind her ear.

Bruce paused when he felt her gentle skin against his own, and for the first time, he didn't mind so much.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

He drove opposite her curb at a reasonable hour. They enjoyed their conversations, sweet and a little scientific. It was something they both understood and felt comfortable with, when they weren't sharing some past experience or gentle observation. Still, after having spent four hours with the boy, she wasn't ready to say 'goodbye.'

There was something about that girl that made him feel comfortable. She was gentle, soft-spoken and endearing. Betty was never overpowering, soft and tender with everything she said. And the truth was, he loved being with her.

He waited until she finished chuckling before looking back at her pretty eyes;

"I uh, I guess I'll see you tomorrow Betty."

She nods, "Yes. And don't stress over that bomb Daddy wants you to create. I trust you Bruce, it will be fine. I mean, I was reading your records the other day. You're a genius really and you're humble about it which, I like, even more. I'm sure your mother would be proud of you Bruce."

He smiles, "Thanks Betty. It means a lot."

She grins nervously, her eyes keeping a hold on his brown ones. He breaks the contact when climbs out of the car, opening the door for her. She climbs out to follow him, only now removing the jacket he loaned to her to toss it over her seat;

"Thank you Bruce, I uh, I had a nice evening."

Banner nods, head lowering in a display of his typical low self-esteem;

"Me too Betty." He can't say much more than that. All of a sudden his tongue feels twice the size as he looks at her pretty face.

She blushes, surprised when he leans forward to give her a gentle peck on the mouth. His lips were soft, tender, and extremely gentle. His pulse was racing and she knew it, wishing he would do it again. Betty feels her cheeks flushing even more vibrantly, reopening her eyes to see his cheeks just as red. She tries not to giggle, beyond tempted to brush that curl from his forehead to get a better view of his expressive eyes;

"Goodnight Betty."

"Goodnight Bruce, I'll see you tomorrow Dr. Banner."

"Yes, see you tomorrow Miss Ross."

"Oh Bruce?"

"Betty?"

"Have a safe trip home."

"You too-I mean! I meant- I hope I didn't get you home too late."

She smirks, "No, you didn't. Goodnight Bruce."

Betty walks in her door, giving Banner a polite wave as he drives away. Her father grumbles from the kitchen, thick eyebrows lowered;

"Someone had too much fun."

She smirks, walking up to her room in a haze;

"Yes Daddy. He's a lovely gentleman."

He narrows a sharp focus, arms crossed as he watches her run up the stairs.

Chapter Text

Ross can't help but catch his daughter throw his perphirial vision, heart dropping the instant he sees her giggle. His eyebrows lower, storming into the room as he controls his anger as best he can. His eyes look up and down the skinny, dark-haired youth, arms crossed as he makes the connection;

"Banner!"

There's a smile on the boy's face, still chuckling over something both he and Betty found amusing;

"Sir?"

"I can assume you're working, but I find it difficult to keep those assumptions when I find nothing accomplished! What am I paying you for boy?!"

Bruce loses his smile, pointing to the board, "My calculations are done Sir, we just have to put it into action."

"Well stop sketching and get to work you-!"

Betty lays a hand over her father's shoulder, abruptly cutting him off with her pretty smile;

"Do you want coffee Daddy?"

He growls, "I want you to go home where you belong! And how many times do I have to tell you to let the man work!"

She nods politely, "Yes Daddy, but I was just giving him some company while Igor stepped out-"

"Igor...Where the hell is Igor anyway!"

Betty holds her elbow, thumb rubbing over her skin, "I can go find him for you Daddy, if you want me to."

He gives her a look, analyzing her pretty attire and a little extra makeup;

"Yes. Go!"

The General turns his attention back towards Banner;

"You can not tell me this is all you've accomplished since you came here."

Bruce seems to glow at the opportunity to show him his work, giddy as he sorts through his files;

"Actually no, I managed to recalibrate your instruments and set up your systems so that when we do put this, well, bomb into action, hopefully it should be a quick and easy test."

"Easy...You should be worried about accuracy-"

"Oh! And that's the other thing I've come up with. Because there's really no need to test it on real objects, so we can station it in a desolate area. I wrote down specific locations if thats-"

"I told you before, I'm not interested in a safe weapon. I want something strong."

He pushes his glasses upwards, "And it will be Sir, you just have to trust me on this-"

"I have no intention of laying this project solely into your hands! I'm still in charge and what I say goes."

"Of course, but there's a slight-"

Betty gently knocks on the door;

"Telephone for Dr. Banner. I'm sorry to bother you."

Bruce sighs, letting Ross glare at him all he wants;

"Coming Miss Ross."

The General raises his voice, "Take it in your quarters Banner! I can't afford to have you distracting my other employees!...Betty!"

She smiles, offering him a warm mug, "Yes Daddy?"

He pauses, giving his daughter a quick look in her eyes before breaking the contact;

"You realize Dr. Banner was the son of a drunk, brought up around nothing good."

Betty tilts her head suspiciously, "Oh father, you said yourself you respected him-"

"I respected the man he was before he murdered his wife! Brian Banner was so involved with his work it drove him to insanity. And I do not want you hovering around his son any longer then it is necessary."

She nods, her eyes closed as she tugs on her skirt, "Yes Dad, but, Dr. Banner is a good man-"

"He's just a boy, still wet behind the ears Betty."

"I guarantee father, if you give him a chance-"

"I am giving him a chance! Why do you think I haven't resorted to firing him yet!"

Betty holds her head, "Daddy, everyone told you to be careful with him."

"This is a military base Elizabeth! I have no time for weaklings!"

"-But he's not-"

"Betty, I know a babe when I see one!"

She crosses her arms over her abdomen. He sighs, hand over his head as he lets her whisper;

"I'm sorry Daddy. You always know better."

The General waits in silence, unable to utter another word. Bruce eventually makes his way back to the office, haze over his eyes as if he had just witnessed a murder. Ross grips his arm, voice strong though he expresses just an once of concern;

"What's wrong boy?"

Bruce sighs, too limp to pull away from him;

"Sir can I get the day off..."

Ross releases him, waiting until he seemed stable on his feet;

"Yes. Why."

Banner holds his head, doubled over at his desk, "I- I have something to take care of. Family matter. I'm sorry Sir."

Betty raises her eyebrows sympathetically;

"Dr. Banner, are you alright?"

The dark-haired physicist comes back up to a more stable position, dropping everything work related into the bins before he abandons his lab coat. The doctor seems to tremble as he moves around his office and slowly the color seems to return to his flushed cheeks;

"Yes, I'm alright Miss Ross, just tired...ma'am."

The General raises an eye;

"Can you work tomorrow? Or would you like the weekend off as well? I can't afford to have you come in sick."

He pauses, shifting his weight between his heels as he takes a step back to double check his files;

"Uh...no, I'll be okay."

Betty jumps when he runs past, giving Ross another look, "Thank you- General. I'll...be in tomorrow...morning - I guess."

Igor grimaces, rolling his eyes the instant his body collides with the college boy. He glances around the room, hand lifted as the coffee spilled down his lab coat. Bruce holds his head, eyes wide and apologetic;

"Oh! Igor I'm sorry! I'm sorry about that-really."

The assistant growls;

"Just stop talking."

Banner nods, heading directly for the exit. Another scientist makes his way over, handing Igor a towel as he shakes his head;

"Thin, introverted, clumsy"

Igor snatches his towel, wasting little time in finishing his statement;

"And a damn nuisance!"

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Bruce held his head, parked in the lot of the mental institution. That phone call at the base had to be the last thing he was expecting, or at least the last thing he wanted to hear. After fifteen years the doctors decided Brian Banner was ready to merge with society.

Brian Banner; Just hearing the name gave the dark-haired physicist a shiver. And what was he supposed to do? Put his life on hold to care for someone who never gave him anything more then insults?

Bruce shuts his eyes, gentle heartbeat quickening by the second as he jumps out of the car. His heart aches, unable to face the man whose given him nothing but pain;

"Stupid kid! Where's your mother?! What did you do to her you little freak?!"

"Don't you touch him Brian!"

"...I prayed every night that thing would die! I asked the doctor's, the nurses- and wished to whatever body is out there that you might change your mind and get an abortion! I should've killed him myself...!"

He clenches his teeth, pushing the door open with a little extra force then he initially intended. the nurses greet him with a smile, gently requesting the reason for his visit. Bruce rams his hands into his pockets as he explains the situation, head lowering with nothing but embarrassment as he asks for 'Brian Banner.'

The woman nods, politely leading him up to the room where Brian waited with a devilish grin. Bruce felt a tremor roll up his spine, head and heart pounding twice as fast the instant his father opens his mouth;

"Robert. So nice to see you."

Bruce gives him a leiry stare, noticing the way the nurses leave the room just to contain the two of them. He swallows heavy, getting straight to business;

"So, they think you're ready to leave."

Brian scoffs, "Of course they do. Everyone knows the murder was your fault to begin with. Shame Becky never knew the real you-"

"I don't want to talk about mom." Bruce shuts his eyes, fingers nervously rubbing over one another as he recounts a slap in the face or an aggressive thrust against the wall.

"Are you shaking Robert?"

He narrows his focus almost painfully, "What do you care."

His father nods, crooked fingers stroking his chin as his eyes travel up and down his son. Bruce shifts uncomfortably, hunched shoulders with his head bowed low. Brian smirks when he sees the effect just looking has on his son;

"You're still abnormal. Skinny, weak...' he whispers almost deviously to see his reaction, 'Mutant."

Bruce lifts his chin, storming from the room as his eyes start to fill. His breathing shudders as he calls for the nurse;

"Ma'am he's not ready."

The nurse lays a hand over his;

"It's okay my dear. Your father is doing well and we can't keep him here forever."

"Well, maybe he just a little longer...?"

"Mr. Banner, your father is ready,' she hands him a paper, 'I just need your signature."

Bruce rubs a hand over his temple, giving the nurse one more glance before reluctantly scribbling his name, the one he'd been using since middle school, on every legal document he'd ever gotten his hands on, 'Bruce' Banner.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

It was quiet ride home awkward silence between the father and son as they traveled to his apartment. There was an uneasy feeling pooling through his gut causing nothing but nausea. It was hard to convince himself that he did the right thing, practically impossible to feel that Brian deserved to be taken care of. After all, Elaine Banner-Walters would've been the only 'Banner' Bruce would've done anything for.

Brian invites himself into Bruce's living space, glancing over his papers and immaculate rooms. He just had to touch everything he found, searching the cabinets for well, liquor no doubt. Bruce just glared at him, locking the door as he headed for his room;

"You can have the bed. I'll sleep on the coach. Please don't touch that!"

His father gives him a look as if to ask him to fix his tone. Bruce shrinks in his body, head lowering as he hangs up his jacket;

"Please. It's for work."

Brian looks it over, studying the perfect equations;

"What are you building?"

Bruce keeps his focus low, snatching the papers from his grip;

"Nothing important."

His father nods, quietly parking himself at the table while Bruce hides his files. He rolls up his sleeves to his elbows, subconsciously glancing at a few faded scars from his childhood. He cringes, flipping the switch to warm up the kettle. Brian catches him off guard speaking up just loud enough for him to hear;

"Thanks for taking me in Robert."

Bruce freezes, to shocked to even feel the way his finger throbbed from it's collision with the stove;

"Wha- what was that?"

He looks up, smirk on his face as he flipped through a book left on the table, "Thank you."

His son nods almost mechanically, on his toes to reach a higher cabinet. It was embarrassing enough to be one of the shorter people at the base, and now that his father was back, he realized how he had obviously received those genes from his mother...

And God, she should be here!

He shakes his head, pouring a cup of plain tea for him and his father. He tugs the back of his neck, parking on the opposite end of the table. His distrust was obvious in the way he sat on an angle, feet planted in case he needed to run;

"I've spent my entire life trying to be the exact opposite of everything you were."

Brian nods, looking up at his son with a hint of disdain. Bruce give a quick look at him, only to hold his forehead and stare into his mug in another haze. his knuckles are white as he clutches onto the bottom of the table for dear life.

The elder Banner just shrugs, "I guess you and I aren't that different after all. I did the exact same thing with my father, wicked man. Didn't care about anything but himself"

He raises an eyebrow, "Sounds familiar."

Brian sits back in his chair, "When I was in therapy I thought about everything he did to me. The way he would beat me into submission."

Bruce refuses to look up, still harboring resentment for a lot more than just his personal abuse;

"I didn't know."

"He used to hit my mother too."

Bruce clenches his teeth, "Well, you murdered mine."

He sighs, lifting the book to his nose, "Let it go Robert."

He bites his tongue, able to even take a sip from his tea. He stands up, forehead pounding as he dumps the tea and cleans the cup;

"I'm going to bed. Let, me, know if you need anything."

Brian smirks, "Goodnight Robert."

Bruce gives him a suspicious stare and without a word he curls up on the sofa.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Pain...it's all he's ever known. And another nightmare? He should be numb to it all by now!

"You thought you'd outsmart me?!"

"Let her go! I promise I'll be good! I'll never hit you if you hit me! Just let her go! Please!"

His body trembles, eyes opening to spot his father hovering above him. There's a blade just above his throat, and it takes the young Banner two seconds to realize it's a kitchen knife. The look on his father's face is one expression that's haunted him since infancy.

He shuts his eyes, hands raised in surrender;

"D..." He freezes, never really able to call him 'Dad' without a wrap across the jaw and remembering how Brian never considered him to be his child;

"Brian, put it down."

His father's eyes seem to shrink from dilation, slowly coming up to a standing position.

"Please, put it away."

Bruce shakes until he's free, trembling as he comes up to a seated position, heart throbbing though part of him wishes he would've let Brian just do it.

Banner glances at the weapon in his hand, anxious to cover himself though he keeps that sharp disdainfully glare aimed at his son;

"I- heard someone at the door. Just wanted to protect myself."

Bruce shuts his eyes, but only for a second, gradually coming to his feet as he hears a knock at the front door. He keeps a sharp eye on his father, opening his door with nothing but irritation and distrust. His eyes widen immediatly when he sees his boss;

"Evening Banner. I've been calling but you haven't answered."

Bruce stares blankly, shocked at his late arrival;

"I'm sorry, what can I do for you General?"

His eyes seem to drift over the boy's shoulder, narrowing his focus at the man in the corner who makes his way shamelessly towards the door. Ross remains stern;

"And you are?"

Brian smirks, "Robert's father, Brian. It's an honor General, I'm a veteran myself."

Ross grinds his teeth, voice raising until Bruce covers his ears in pure discontent;

"Murderer! Get out of my sight!"

Bruce feels an aggressive nudge on his shoulder as his father turns to retreat into another room within his apartment. The General takes a step inside, reaching into his pocket for a cigar;

"You're generation loves to call 'military intelligence' an oxymoron, but the fact i, we have an extensive dossier on you Banner. A dossier I have made a person affair to memorize; every single word."

Bruce just leans his body into the wall beside him, arms crossed as he waits for the General to continue in his monologue;

"So is this why you left today? To care for this, thing?"

Banner shuts his eyes, his head still pounding;

"No matter what he is Sir, he's still my father and I'm responsible-"

"You're talking nonsense! I thought better of you Banner. Now you just seem like, some, spineless milksop! Especially to let that thing into your home."

Bruce narrows his focus, standing up straighter;

"Quite frankly Sir, it's none of your business!"

"If such a dilemma is effecting your work and my bomb then yes! It is my business!"

He lowers his head, thick lock falling over his eye as he mulls it over out loud;

"He's my father General..."

He growls, dumping the debris from his cigar in the living space;

"Be a man Banner. If not for your late mother's sake, then yours. Be a man!"

Bruce shuts his door, back up against the panel as he lets his body slide down to the ground. He pulls his knees in, eyes roving to the room where his 'father' had fallen asleep. He throws his head into the back of the door, teeth grinding over one another when he spots the knife back in it's place. He takes a deep breath, burying his face within his forearms to hide from reality. His feet subconsciously rub over one another, baggy pants getting in the way of a nervous habit he's had for years.

Chapter Text

Igor's mouth had been running off since he got to the base, complaining about anything and everything. Bruce had been smart enough to tune him out for the day, nodding politely at every comment and smart retort made in his direction.

His assistant just snarls, rolling his eyes as he reaches for a paper;

"Banner you idiot, you've been at this for long enough. Let me see it."

Bruce let's him take the paper, only to have it crumpled and thrown back towards his head;

"Not that one! I wanted the sheet on the gamma rays!"

The younger man just sighs, letting Igor do the venting;

"I don't have it. I'm working on phase 2 right now."

He growls, jumping up from his chair after hurling a book onto the floor in a fit. Igor wraps his hand around Banner's bicep to turn him around aggressively;

"Phase 2?! Without my permission!"

Bruce feels his heart pounding at the contact, fear kicking into high gear as he tugs away defensively;

"I'd really appreciate it if you could keep your hands to yourself."

He clenches a fist, hovering in the air and poised to strike;

"You annoy me!" He sighs, dropping his fist as he storms from the room.

Bruce sighs, removing his glasses to clean the lenses. He mumbles under his breath, still upset over something his father said that morning as he walking out the door.

The physicist wastes little time in collecting his supplies and situating his chemicals in a precise location. He re-checks at least two more times before settling down in his workspace, unfolding the crumpled paper that had been thrown at him only moments earlier. He sets it aside, analyzing the first step he'd have to make in building the bomb.

An empty vial slips from his grip just as he was about to pour,cringing while he awaits the collision of the glass with the tiled floor. He's shocked at discovering it did nothing but roll under his table, immediately coming to his hands and knees to retrieve it.

"Dr. Banner?"

Bruce jumps at her tender call, head pounding into the table above him. He instinctively reaches up to hold his throbbing body part, cringing out of pain and embarrassment as his tool slips from within his grasp a second time.

Betty initially covers her mouth after gasping over his clumsy mistake and loud thump. She comes to her knees, taking the vial as it rolls into her hand;

"Are you alright?"

His eyes crack open, huffing out a laugh as his cheeks flush a bright red;

"Betty, you scared the living...heck out of me."

She stays on her knees while he crawls out from under the table:

"Oh I'm sorry Bruce."

He smirks, brushing off his white lab coat while she comes to her feet. He quickly looks at her, refocusing on a downward tilt;

"I uh, I miss you."

Betty blushes, realizing she hadn't seen him in a few days due to her father keeping her extra busy and far from the 'college boy'. She lowers her focus after coming back up to her feet, fingers twirling over the vial within her grip;

"You, well...You didn't want to call?"

He contorts his mouth, tongue pressed against his cheek. What he couldn't tell her was that his father had gone through much of his belongings, throwing out what he didn't think was important. It was obviously a time consumer being that Bruce kept his living space immaculate. His father had to search for faults and purposely dig through his belongings to find anything specific. Brian had been quiet for the most part, but when he did open his mouth, it was usually some cutting remark or action. In this case, he had found her number, read her name and snorted, telling Bruce in an uncharacteristically calm voice 'not to waste his time' and that 'no one would care about an introvert like him.' At that point, the boy just let his father talk; too frustrated to even bother putting her contact information currently torn into a million pieces back together.

And of all the days to be pushing Bruce to his limits!

Had today just been like all the others he probably wouldn't have cared so much. But since he woke up this morning he had wanted to cry, or at least have some time alone to remember his mother.

He sighs, wringing his hands together;

"Aw Betty, I do, well, I did-I swear. It's just been...busy."

She nods, offering him the container she picked up from the floor;

"And, how's it going?"

Bruce shrugs, taking it from her before pouring his inital chemicals;

"Well, if I can keep my stuff on the table we'll be fine. You're father will get his bomb by the end of the week."

Betty exhales slowly, petting the ends of her long hair;

"Bruce, I meant you."

The blank look over his sweet features prove there's a need for clarification. Betty breathes a heavy sigh, hands dropping at her sides while she gives him her full attention;

"Daddy told me about your father. That he's with you now. You haven't exactly been yourself since he moved in."

He offers her a reassuring smile, trying to muffle that heavy sigh;

"I'm alright, really. I just have to adjust that's all. Unfortunately we're like, hydrochloric acid and sodium hypochlorite, it's a toxic combination."

Her hand tugs at her opposite elbow, head tilting slightly. She backs up slowly, searching through a freezer in the far corner, "I'm sorry Bruce."

He watches her abrupt disappearance, refocusing on his work to avoid making her uncomfortable.

Bruce jumps when Betty reappears behind him, pulling away defensively when she brushes his skin with her ice pack. She lets him react, startled by his manuever. There's a look over his face that does nothing but break her heart, as if he's afraid she might hurt him in some way. His skittish and distrusting nature leaves her beyond concerned, slowly laying a hand over his shoulder. Betty can feel his tense muscles slowly easing up the longer she lingers. His eyes slowly crack open at the sound of her soothing voice;

"I'm sorry, I just want to make sure your head is okay. That was a loud thump before."

He breaks out a laugh when she smiles eyes reclosing with embarrassment. She was so pretty and so smart, his father was right. She probably though he was nothing more than a stupid introvert.

The physicist reaches an open hand to take the ice from her, "Thanks Betty."

She just smiles taking a step behind him, "I'll take care of it, just tell me where."

He can't help but cringe when she first runs her fingers through his hair, having had enough physical contact for one day. And yet, when she hits a tender spot, it almost feels surprisingly comforting.

She knows when she hits the spot that bothers him, gently laying her pack over his thick chocolate curls, "Your hair is so thick, can you even feel it Bruce?"

"Yeah I feel it." He shivers, eyes closing over the chill running down his spine. Betty picks up on his discomfort, rubbing the back of his neck with her free hand. She squeezes gently over those pressure points, hearing him exhale a heavy sigh. He seems to relax, letting his forehead rest over his stacked arms.

Bruce can feel all the stress slowly evaporating for a while. Her gentle touch reminds him of his mother, and the way she would hold him when he was afraid. Miss Ross had a sort of calming effect over him, the kind he desperately needed.

Betty eases up on her hold when he starts to fall asleep, listening to him breathe in a soft and quiet rhythm. He'd been deprived of such a necessity since his father showed up, never comfortable enough to shut his eyes for more than a few minutes.

She smirks, lifting the ice from off of him. Her hand brushes the remaining drops of water from the pack through his hair, giving the back of his neck one more rub. She snatches up a scrap piece of paper, scribbling a 'Call me' with her number, signature and a smile face. She folds it in half and slips it into his front pocket before returning the ice pack to the freezer and leaving the room. Betty closes the door behind her deciding to let him rest. She nudges a scientist outside the door;

"Don't let anyone inside please."

He snickers, "Whose in there, Banner?"

She nods, "Yes. He'll be out in a minute. Please don't let anyone bother him."

He smirks, "Okay Elizabeth. You getting coffee?"

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Betty jumps when she hears a knock on her opened door, hand over her heart;

"Oh! Bruce, you startled me."

She urges him inside, quickly closing the door of the small office, "I'm sorry, Daddy's not in a good mood. You look alive again."

He smirks, reaching in the front pocket of his suit jacket. She lowers her head when she realizes he moved her note into his personal attire;

"I wanted to thank you Betty- I mean, I know it doesn't seem like a big deal but well, I enjoy your company...Miss Ross."

Betty bites her lower lip, clasping her hands behind her back, "Same here Bruce."

He tries to look her in the eye, "I, can't say I've, really felt like this before."

She chuckles, "Me neither."

He lowers his head as he reads off the contents of her note;

"So, it's '720-8361'?"

The girl gives a nod, finding it hard to maintain eye contact with his bright brown eyes, "Yes."

"Just making sure,' he folds the paper back into his pocket, 'I'll call you Miss Ross."

Betty tilts her head, "Please do. Um, tonight maybe?"

He nods, shaking his head after a minute;

"Yea- No, I can't- I...well.- If, I can I will."

She nods, trying not to be too pushy;

"Whenever Bruce, I'm here."

Banner lowers his head, smirking as the lock falls just above his eye. He stuffs his hands into his pockets;

"I've got to run Betty. So, I'll, see you tomorrow?"

She nods with a smile, "I'll be here."

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

He runs straight for his room the instant he gets into his apartment, checking the pamphlets stuck inside his top drawer. They're underneath the picture of his mother, generally left untouched for 364 days out of the year. Her picture, on the other hand, is very rarely left hidden within his nightstand.

Bruce lets his eyes go straight for the numbers on the bottom, hoping that where he wants to go is still open. He exhales with less anxiety upon realizing the place is still open, running a hand through his hair.

His body twitches with his eyes close upon hearing a crash and a call from his father in the opposite room;

"Get in here Robert!"

He sighs, tossing the pamphlet onto his bed, "I'm coming."

Bruce exhales louder than he wanted to, eyes roving about his small living room currently a disaster from his 'father's' reorganizing. He keeps his mouth shut, coming to his knees to restack the papers. Brian remains quiet, giving his son dirty looks as he cringes with disgust. Bruce tosses his papers on the table having had enough abuse for one day, he remains calm;

"Dad, what's wrong?"

Brian shifts his stare, voice slowly raising, "Don't talk to me like that!"

"I'm sorry."

Bruce instantly removes himself from the situation, checking the clock on his way back towards his room. He can hear his father mumbling inaudible phrases, turning around in his door frame. He watches his father mumble and growl for no apparent reason, letting his head rest against the wall beside him;

"You realize you've been acting stranger and stranger since I let you move in. Maybe you should go back to the hospital for a little longer." He reaches up to snatch his jacket from off the coat rack, making his way to the front door without an explanation.

Brian's chest is heaving, anger ready to reach a boiling point still frozen in the living room. He screams at his son without any restraint;

"You idiot! You're a freak Robert! I must've gotten better in the hospital because you weren't there!"

Bruce shakes his head, tears in his eyes as he closes the door behind him focused on one destination.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

The quiet young man slowly made his way through the cemetary, head bowed low with his hands stuffed inside the pockets of his jacket. He took deliberate steps, knowing exactly where to find his mother.

Bruce had come here every year that he possibly could on the anniversary of her murder, a day he'd never forget for as long as he lived. He was so caught up in his broken heart, the forming clouds and light drizzle didn't even bother to phase him.

The fact that his apartment was in walking distance from the graveyard was no coincidence. It was for the sole purpose of being closer to the one person he loved the most, taken from him way too soon.

He wat back on his heels, soft expression over his face as he trailed a finger over the letters over her stone. Bruce could almost hear her crying or feel her gentle embrace. He missed the way she used to smile and laugh, long before Brian became completely irate and intolerable.

What he would give to have her back.

"I should've known you'd be here."

Bruce grimaces at the sound of his voice, as if he'd just been punched across the face. He sighs, remaining calm;

"And where else should I be. I was at my mother's side when it happened. Why would I abandon her on the anniversary of her murder?' he pauses feeling his blood boil at the memory, 'I find it hard to believe you'd have the nerve to show up here today."

He growls, gripping Bruce's wrist with a forceful attack;

"You monster!"

His son falls, tired of being abused by the man who caused his birth;

"You're delusional!"

Brian grinds his teeth, swinging a forceful punch across his jaw;

"Your mother was a fool! She knew what you were and yet she still protected you!"

Bruce lifts a hand to stop a second punch, "You tortured her- the both of us for years!"

"You're a mutant! An evil creature! I should've killed you a long time ago you worthless demon!"

Bruce shudders at his voice, ducking and covering over his head when his father takes another swing. He grits his teeth when he comes to his knees;

"I can't believe you call me the demon when you're the one who cursed your son and killed your wife!"

Brian grips him harshly, hurling his knee into his gut. Bruce winces, curling up as much as possible until his father swings his foot towards his skull;

"I wish you were dead! The world would be a better place without you! Unfortunately the world doesn't know it yet. Praising you for your intelligence! It disgusts me! You'll never be worth anything Robert!"

He squirms from his father's grip, "You always hated me! You've been trying to convince me that I'm a mutant for as long as I can remember! Every memory I have consists of pain, frustration, and a worthlessness! And why?! Just because I was smart!?"

"You're intelligence proves you're inhuman!"

He screams on the verge of tears, "I don't care! Say whatever the hell you want- God I don't care anymore! You took the only person I ever loved...the only one who ever loved me! You hated me from the day I was born and you made her pay for my existence!"

"You shouldn't exist! If anything I saved your mother from seeing the animalistic disgrace you've become! You don't deserve the live!"

The younger Banner makes eye contact with his father, rage boiling over for everything his father put him through. He could hear his mother's screams, the way she cried every time Brian would hit her over and over again. He kept a direct focus, brown eyes narrowing. He was too focused on his attacker to notice the gash over his eye, the bruises on his cheek or his agonizing abdomen on the verge of unconsciousness. The glasses had flown off his face, causing the rain to spill over his open wounds

Violence was never the answer, but here he was coming back towards Bruce, ready to lunge in for the kill. He ducked for a moment, yelling as he threw his foot back into his attack in an act of self-defense. He buried his head should his act backfire. The typically mild-mannered boy lashed out, driven by the pent-up fury and frustration came spilling over in that one single blow.

Bruce gasped when his father's head collided with the stone of his wife, mortified to see the blood and a lack of movement. He screamed, hands over his head as the dizziness set in. His voice muffled through the thunderstorm, eyes wide with his heart palpitating out of his chest. Bruce couldn't move, frozen too exhausted for the reality to set in. He waited in the rain waiting for the next attack that never came. No, he wouldn't have to worry about his father even trying to strike him for the rest of his life...or did he?

Bruce wasn't sure what was real anymore, feeling a hand over his shoulder. His eyes shift upwards heading his deep voice and urging;

"Come on Dr. Banner, come with me."

He was shaking when he came to his feet, being lead abruptly towards a vehicle parked within the cemetary. He collapsed, eyes closing the instant he jumps in at the urging of the man with the dark coat and eye patch. He had obviously been watching for quite a while...and how did he know who Bruce was?

He finds it hard to breathe, feeling a slender fingered hand run over his injury;

"He's cut up pretty badly Sir. We should get him medical attention."

"Can't risk it Hill. He can't build the bomb if he's in prison."

"Well he also can't do too much if he's injured Director. I think we should go to the hospital, just to double check and make sure he's alright."

Bruce tries to reply at hearing the word 'hospital'. Having too many negative memories in that darn location, he gently stops her hand from touching him again;

"No! I just- I just."

The driver finishes his statement;

"Forget it Hill, we're taking him home. The boy needs sleep. You'll be alright Banner."

Bruce shuts his eyes tighter clutching his gut;

"And- my father- my f-father. Oh God! I h-hit him-"

The man retorts a brilliant white lie while the girl lays a cloth over his forehead;

"You knocked your father unconscious. Police came to investigate and found your father had been killed by muggars,' he finishes his statement only half-heartedly, 'Sorry for your loss."

Bruce pants, hand subconsciously laid over the hand of his current caretaker;

"No, he's- it can't be- j-just-"

She brushes the lock from his eye after a few minutes have passed;

"You're home Dr. Banner."

The driver climbs out, carefully removing the weary physicist with assistance from the woman he referred to as 'Hill'. The man waits until he's laid inside his bed, still mumbling words about his confrontation. The 'Director' raises his voice, tone remaining concerned;

"You'll be alright Dr. Banner. Just get some sleep and we'll take care of the rest. Hill, we're out. Let's go."

Bruce mumbles, taking a heavy swallow. His slowly eyes crack open, two blurry figures quickly exiting his apartment without another word. He collapses back down, head hitting into his pillow with enough force to leave him with a headache.

. . . . . . . . .

When morning came, he could remember nothing but noise and the lie spilled from the mouth of someone who took him home.

Bruce lifts the paper he usually ignores, eye catching the cover story of a man who was killed by muggars in the cemetary after 'visiting' his wife. He held his head in confusion, fingers toying with the flat bandage left over his forehead. When his tongue hit the inner portion of his cheek, he could taste the blood. Seeing the obvious cuts and bruises left on his body proved something did happen last night, but the accurate details would forever be unclear to him.

And maybe it was better that way.

Chapter Text

It had been at least 3 days since the 'loss' of his biological father and the confusion, messy emotions, and frustration were getting the best of him.

Bruce laid a hand over his damp cheeks, glazed with sweat and tears from another nightmare. His heart was palpitating, having only recently calmed down now that his sensing were slowly 'waking up.' For a brief moment he was waiting to hear his father screaming at him or throwing him out of the bed like he had done only one week ago.

He felt a chill running down his spine when he could've sworn he heard his mother crying, haunted by that same dark shadow on the wall that had stalked him since the night of her murder. His eyes close, pinching his inner arm to snap out of whatever memory was plaguing him. He sat up slowly, hands trembling from another restless night when he tried to start his day. Without his father to yell and push him around, this should've been filled with relief, but this felt like just the opposite.

Bruce didn't know how to feel having spent all of his childhood hating the man for putting both him and his mother through that needless torment. It had messed up the rest of his life in more ways than he knew. For him, self-loathing, deep rooted anger, guilt and anxiety were all just normal daily struggles he wasn't even aware of.

Right now, having the day off was all he cared about, eager to tear the bandages from off his wounds and to have the time to double check his equations and chemicals in peace. Without his boss and Igor around, it would no doubt be easier to focus. The morning after the incident he had been ready for work out of pure obligation, but whoever the 'director' was, had been kind enough to make sure he had a few days to recover.

After showering and cleaning a bit, he flipped the news on in the opposite room for the sake of noise after realizing the silence was not helping those voices in the back of his head.

He's quick to locate the file on his gamma bomb, the one Igor has been pestering for since day one. The fact that he had been so persistent left him with an uneasy feeling, determined to keep the specifics of the bomb from everyone in that base.

God forbid his creation should get into the wrong hands.

Bruce makes his way into the kitchen, setting up a small area to double check one of his ideas for the project. His eyes stay fixated on his work and chemicals, glasses coming on and off his face depending on the distance between himself and the various objects sprawled over his table.

With his mind so fixed on science, his stomach started to protest. He didn't seem to care about the fact that he hadn't eaten in three days, paying aboslutly no attention to the signals his body was giving him for more rest and more energy. His mind wasn't about to stop for anything, enwrapped in his project and the possibilities of using a different, far less dangerous chemical on Ross' bomb.

Bruce shakes his head when he hears something on the television about some genius taking over Stark Industries, bragging about some advanced weaponry. He rolls his eyes, still believing that more things were needed to fix and rebuild as opposed to destroy. He was still hoping Ross would think about what he said as far as the beneficial uses of his creation were concerned. It made more sense to the young Banner to make something that would keep people safe as opposed to causing mass destruction like that man on the television was bragging about; Star? Stork? Or whoever it was.

Bruce couldn't help but smirk when his vial slips from his grip and tumbles to the floor. He almost heard Betty's sweet chuckle in the back of his mind, eyes widening when he quickly glances at the clock. Miss Ross had to be home by now, and he knew he owed that girl at least five minutes of his time.

He heads back into his room, leaving his chemicals in a safe place so that nothing would accidentally blow up while he was away. Bruce had purposely left her number on his phone as a reminder to call, but lately, his mind had been elsewhere. And who could blame him?

He dials her number, rubbing his forehead over the possibility of the General answering the call. Bruce shoves the wireless over his shoulder as he heads for the bathroom mirror, forgetting to remove the bandage on his forehead that morning. He cringes when he sees the bruises over his cheeks, the cut over his lip, and a fading black eye. He slips his thumb and forefinger over the corner, ripping the sticky substance from off his skin with a swift pull. It burned, but Betty's voice seemed to make that pain just vanish;

"Hello?"

"Hi Betty, Miss Ross, it's Bruce. How are you?"

He can hear her gentle sigh as he holds a forefinger over another bruise over his temple;

"Oh Dr. Banner, you're the one whose been missing from work. How are you feeling?"

Bruce tugs at his head, fingers trenched through his thick mop of hair until he feels another bruise. he heads back for his room, taking the phone back up into the opposite hand to give his aching shoulder a break;

"I'm alright Betty...been better, actually."

"My father told me what happened to your father Bruce. I'm so very sorry. You've been on my mind but Daddy's been keeping me excessively busy...I've been meaning to get in touch with you, honestly."

"It's- to be honest everything feels like a blur. I keep waiting for someone to pinch me and tell me that it was just all just nightmare."

"You poor thing. Can I do anything for you?"

He snickers on the brink of tears, hand over his face as he sits on the edge of his bed. He gnaws at his lower lip, looking up at his light to chase the tears away and feeling completely lost;

"Can you come over and shoot me?"

"Stop it! Don't talk like that!"

She must have heard him take that shuddering breath, her voice switching to a much softer tone;

"Bruce? Are you with me? Are you alright?"

His hand was shaking when he pounded a weak fist into his bed. Eyes closing to take another deep breath;

"I'm- I'll be alright Betty. I just- I guess, I just- needed to hear your voice."

"Oh Bruce. Listen, I was actually on my way to the store. Can I come by? Just for five minutes. I'd love to see you."

He runs a hand over his head. He leans back on his bed in an attempt to fix a sudden nauseas feeling, unable to say more than one word;

"Yes."

"I'll be right there Bruce. Daddy has your information. And, you're...apartment 16, is that right Dr. Banner?"

"Y-yes."

Betty's voice expresses her panic and concern, picking up on his cracking voice;

"I'll be right over Bruce."

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

His head still hurt, heart palpitating like he had just run a marathon. Bruce was curled up in a ball, hugging his knees into his chest as he tried to breathe. His chest hurt and his fingers were starting to tingle when he hears the bell and a gentle knock on his door.

He's slow to get up, disgusted with how weak he feels. Betty's smile seems to ease the anxiety, even though it disappears the instant she sees his face. Her heart drops, quickly entering when he invites her in;

"Oh my word!...Bruce, what happened?"

He shakes his head, moving back for her to come in, "Honestly, I- I, don't even remember."

Her eyebrows lift, raising a hand at the height of her elbow, "Your eye Bruce!"

He shuts his brown orbs without thinking twice, leaning his head back when she slowly raises her hand. Bruce knows she's about to touch him, heart beating twice as fast at the thought of any contact. Betty sighs, keeping her voice calm when she picks up on his anxiety. She slips her opposite hand over his in an attempt to ease his fears;

"It's okay, I'm not going to hurt you."

He squeezes her hand despite the trembling, letting her run her opposite forefinger over his eyebrow;

"Betty...I-I'll be alright."

She warns him before gently laying her hand over his forehead;

"I'm just going to feel for a temperature, please try to hold still."

He jumps at her touch, squeezing her hand when he's uncomfortable. Betty slowly adds gentle pressure, opposite thumb rubbing over his hand and wrist;

"Oh, you feel warm."

Bruce shuts his eyes tighter, letting go of her hand to cover his face;

"I'm- so sorry Betty. I'm- I-feel awful."

Her eyes look him over, gently leading him to the coach. She parks beside him, rubbing her fingertips over his wrist;

"Shh, it's okay."

"I'm sorry Betty." His head turns towards her, cheek pressed against the back of his furniture.

She shakes her head, repeating herself consolingly in her sweet tone, "It's okay."

She takes a deep breath with a nod as if he should copy her. Bruce complies, sitting up straighter to bury his head in his open palms as they exhale. He mumbles after minutes of silence, frustrated with himself;

"I'm sorry I didn't call you sooner. And, I'm sorry-about...this."

Betty gives a smirk, laying her hands over her lap. He seemed calmer and much more controlled;

"Please don't apologize. You have a lot going on right now Dr. Banner."

His eyes shift upwards, cheek pressed on his clasped hands;

"Well, I think, we can test the bomb tomorrow..."

Her eyes widen, "Bruce, if you need the rest of the week off, I think you should take it. Honestly."

"I, appreciate it, but I doubt your father would be too keen on the idea. He wanted this thing done yesterday."

"Well, my father needs to learn patience. He treats you all as if you were machines...it's not fair to ask you to come in tomorrow Bruce. Wait just one more day, please."

He freezes, seeing the glow in her eyes. She reminds him of his mother in so many ways and it's almost impossible not to listen to her. He was vaguely aware of the incident that happened to his father on the job, working on a project he wasn't ready for. Brian had refused to listen to Rebecca's advice, and look at all the trouble it caused! Bruce didn't know the details, but he had heard enough about it to know better than to argue with someone who begged him to do something similar.

Bruce gives her a nod, "One more day."

She shrugs, brushing a stray hair behind her ear, "One or two."

He nods slowly, "...Or two."

Betty sighs, tugging at her fingers while he bites his cheek;

"You scared me Bruce...and please don't apologize. I just, want you to be alright. I do care about you, Dr. Banner."

"You, do?"

She nods, smile on her face, "Yes."

He smirks, tenderly reaching his hand down to take up hers, planting a careful kiss on her hand. She blushes, lowering her head over his sweet maneuver. Her fingers carry the chill down her spine, realizing his body temperature is still off from his panic attack;

"I care about you too Miss Ross."

"You do?"

"I, guess I should, confess that, ever since we met I- I've, cared."

She blushes, "Me too. Actually, I was, starting to worry you didn't feel that way about me."

"I do Betty. Honestly I've never felt, exactly like this before."

"Me neither." Miss Elizabeth gives an accidental glance at her watch, panicking when she sees the time;

"Oh my goodness! I hope the store- Bruce what time does the store close? Daddy wanted me to pick up- oh! I'm sorry Bruce I have to go."

"It's okay, I hope you're father's not upset. He...doesn't know where you are? Does he?"

He stands up after she does, watching her as she searches through her purse for her keys;

"No. Father, well, I'll tell you some other time. I'm sorry Bruce, I feel bad running out on you. Are you alright?"

He smirks, wringing at his fingers, "I'm alright Betty. Just do me a favor and let me know when you get home."

She smirks, cheeks flushed pink, "I will."

"And, thanks for coming Betty. It, means a lot."

"Oh, anytime darling. Feel better Dr. Banner. Goodnight Bruce."

"Goodnight Betty."

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

By the time Bruce goes back to work, having taken one more week off at Betty's persisting, his bruises are pretty much faded with the exception of a small black and blue over his right eyebrow. He was nervous as it was without the help of Igor's complaining and the General's ranting, stationed behind bunkers with his fellow scientist and other qualified individuals from the base.

His fingers are busy, working out last-minute figures and his double and triple checking. Igor rolls his eyes when Bruce checks for a fourth time grunting as he crosses his arms;

"What is the matter with you?"

"Just give me a few more seconds Igor, I'm almost done."

His eyes follow the physicist, traipsing around the room to check other computers;

"I'm still mad you didn't show your calculations to me or anyone else. You're messing with Gamma Rays Banner, don't you think sharing those little details about the bomb would have been important?"

"Shush!" Bruce waves his hand, hearing Ross' mouth coming down the hallway.

The General storms in, eyebrows lowered with his eyes narrowed;

"What's going on Banner?! What are you waiting for?! My men have been stationed here, wasting time because of your infernal delays! Are you going to test that bomb or not?!"

He stammers, fingers tugging at one another while Igor stares him down;

"Of course I am General, I just want to make sure we've taken every precaution. We're toying with, powerful forces Sir and-"

He growls, clenching a fist as he raises his voice;

"Powerful forces?! A bomb is a bomb you milksop! You've got no guts! And why the hell is this taking forever?! My God it should have been done already!"

None of them had even been aware of the fact the Betty had entered the room, gently tapping her father on the shoulder in Bruce's defense;

"Daddy, don't talk like that. Dr. Bruce Banner is one of the most famous and smartest scientists. I'm sure he knows what he's doing."

He waves his finger at his daughter, causing her eyes to widen and her pulse to race;

"You keep out of this Betty! It's not your place!"

Bruce lowers his eyebrows, disgusted with the way he talks to his child. She takes a step forward, holding her father's hand to calm him while she addresses the doctor, almost as if her father's comments didn't even phase her;

"It'll be fine Dr. Banner, I have faith in you."

Her father gives them both a look eyes narrowing on the boy as he replies;

"Thank you Miss Ross. Actually if you'll excuse me, I'll start the countdown."

She nods almost nervously, releasing her father's arm, "Good luck Dr. Banner."

He smirks, giving her a subtle wink while her father's back is turned. Betty doesn't reply, eyes fixed on her friend until she breaks the contact. There's an uneasy feeling pooling through her gut when she looks at him, a ludicrous idea that maybe this glance is her last. She tries to calm herself as best she can;

The bomb may be dangerous, but it's not that dangerous.

And Bruce knows what he's doing...

Ross snaps, ready to storm from the room and drag his daughter with him;

"Well it's about time! Come on Betty! And for the hundredth time, let the man work!"

She nods, hesitantly leaving the room with her grumpy father at her side. Bruce gives her one more glance before continuing with his project. In all honesty, he feels like screaming when Igor opens his mouth;

"Listen, Banner, you've still got time to tell me how you were able to harness those gamma rays! It isn't right for you to be the only one who knows!"

He tries to ignore him, eyes fixed on his work;

"Sorry Igor. The formula's are locked in my room and I plan on keeping it that way."

His assistant growls, losing his temper in a matter of seconds. There's a hand on the scruff of Bruce's neck, and a fist close to his jaw;

"You idiot! You don't let anybody check your work! If you made a mistake, do you realize you could blow up half the continent?! You little-"

Banner sharpens his focus, agitated with the contact as he tries to pull away;

"I don't make errors! I've double and tripled checked every little thing!-"

There's a voice that rescues them, causing Igor to release his hold faster than he picked him up;

"Dr. Banner, we've started the countdown."

Igor makes a mad dash to stand beside him as opposed to in front of him. Bruce gives him a look;

"And stop thinking with your fists! You know how I feel about that."

He snorts coldly, "Just do your job and I'll do mine."

That voice resumes, giving the doctor another glance, "60 seconds Dr. Banner."

The dark-haired boy studies his work from a distance, binoculars handy to double-check, no, triple check the details. Bruce's eyes widen, mouth dropping open in horror as he narrows his focus. He mumbles, loud enough for Igor to hear and take a step closer;

"Wait! There's a boy-A teenager! Jimminy crickets! He's driving onto the test area- Ugh!"

The assistant takes a step to nudge him, eager to look through the binoculars himself. Bruce pushes him from his way, making a mad dash for the door as he yells back;

"Tell them to delay the countdown until I get to that boy! Move Igor! Before it's too late!"

"Sure." He smirks almost deviously as an idea enters his mind, waiting until Bruce heads outside before situating himself in front of the computers. He had no intention of opening his mouth, choosing instead to get the 'best seat in the house'. It took control to keep himself from smiling from ear to ear. To him, 'the end of Bruce Banner' had a very pleasant ring to it.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Bruce was out of breath, running to drag the boy from his car;

"Get out of here! you're in a forbidden test area!"

The boy gives him a smirk, knees crossed and as calm as could be;

"Cool it bro! The kids said I wouldn't have the nerve to sneak past the guards. Ha! And what are you doing? Trying to make them think I'm chicken?"

Bruce grabs his wrist without thinking twice, brown orbs fixed on getting him into the protective trench;

"There's a bomb that's going to go off! Come on!"

The boy's eyes widen, cooperating with the scientist as he reaches the trench. He gives a backwards glance when he hears a loud bang. His eyes widen when the doctor's wince turns into a painful scream, bathed in gamma rays. For both the boy listening from within the protective trench and his rescuer, it's all too much.

Banner's hands are over his head as the bomb goes off, kneeling to the floor when his vision goes. His body is burning and it feels like death. His heart is racing, his head pounding harder than any panic attack he's ever experience. The pain feels even more intense than the worst torture his father ever put him through, his body going numb when he feels like giving up. His world just comes to a stand still, as if everything just comes crashing down into a million pieces. And then...

...Blackout.

Chapter Text

Bruce thought he was dead, or maybe he was just that hopeful. The pain running through his veins felt like it was still there leaving him screaming for the next few hours. His cheeks were red, when he came to, chest aching when he hears voices;

"He's coming out of it."

"Well thank God!

Bruce feels like throwing up when his eyes crack open, head still pounding from God knows what. There's a doctor in front of him, barely awake himself;

"Well Banner, it's a miracle you're still alive."

He sighs, all too hopeful it were all over. He rubs his forehead and eyes, mumbling softly;

"What happened..."

The doctor scratches something off his clipboard, ready to leave the room without another word as he heads for the exit;

"Well you weren't exactly in the safest of locations when the bomb went off, absorbed all those Gamma Rays."

Bruce shakes his head, eyes low. The cot felt uncomfortable, bringing back those awful memories of surgeries, stitches, and the empty rooms they threw him into afterwards;

"Well...how did I get here?"

There's a voice from behind him, belonging to a teenager. Banner feels like cringing when he sees that little daredevil;

"Duh! I brought you. My name's Rick Jones by the way. You saved my stupid...butt so I figured it was the least I could do for you. Funny thing is that, I'm an orphan and no one's ever done anything for me before, and, you're a complete stranger. I figure I owe you something."

The boy gives him a look, Bruce shakes his head and sighs, looking the other way;

"That was a pretty boneheaded move Rick, could've killed yourself."

He shrugs, taking a step behind where he was positioned;

"Yeah, I know that now. How long are they going to keep us here Doc? It's getting dark out."

Bruce throws his head into his hands, still talking softly;

"I don't know Rick. They're probably waiting for me to die. It's impossible to take in so much Gamma Radiation and not have something happen."

He smirks, "Easy there Doc. I think if something big was going to happen, it would've happened already."

Bruce drops his hands, giving the Jones boy a sarcastic stare,

"And what do you know about radiation?"

He stutters, "Uh...I don't."

Banner gives another nod, throwing his head back into his hands as he mumbles;

"Just my luck, stuck babysitting a child...and with a pounding headache. Oh good God the world is spinning! Just kill me already..."

Rick snickers from the corner, touching things he shouldn't. He gives a sideways glance, playing with a small metal box;

"The world is always spinning you know that."

"My head is throbbing Rick...something doesn't feel right at all."

His hands stay busy, twisting knobs, "Even the radio just gives off static...Jeez! It's so loud! Doc, you alright?"

Bruce shifts uncomfortably, vision slowly blurring;

"It's not a radio, Jones! It's a Geiger Counter...something that measures radiation."

"Well it's freaking out right about now..."

Bruce cringes, holding back a scream when a pain shoots through his body, from his head to his toes. He's doubled over, hands over the side of his head when the pounding in his head intensifies. His fingers tug at his loose curls, trembling over his body. It feels like the radiation all over again, and all he can do is breathe.

Rick takes a step forward when Bruce falls from the cot, on his knees;

"What- in the name of- uh...Doc?"

His eyes widen, dilating to a deep green color when he snaps. Banner's wince goes deeper, muscles aching beyond anything he's ever felt as they expand uncontrollably.

Rick takes a step back, watching his typical tan slowly change to a musty green and the thin physicist he grows taller and stronger. His muscles are defined and bending as he stands up, towering over the teenager;

"You changed...wha-"

The giant growls, swinging a forceful swing in the boy's direction until he knocks him to the ground. spinning around in his confinement. He roars, fists pounding into the floor almost animalistically until he finds the wall, roaring what sounded like vocabulary this time.

Jones rubs the back of his neck, trying to translate, "Out? You're trying to get...Oh holy-"

He growls, chest heaving as he breaks the walls around him, sparking the curiosity of the military men in the area. The vehicle finds it's way towards the large thing in front of them, gasping to themselves;

"What is that thing?"

He roars, knocking over the vehicle before storming for vacant land with his head bowed low. Rick runs a hand through his hair, dashing behind the giant. He cringes when he sees the damages, brushing off his sleeve as he jumps over debris. The armed men look just about as shocked and startled as he is, too focused on running after Banner.

"Wait! I'm coming too!"

Rick felt his heart sink, obligated to look after the man/monster. And it wasn't like he had anywhere else to go.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

"It's impossible! No human could've broken the wall!"

"It wasn't human you idiot! It was that..that- Hulk that flipped our vehicle over!"

"Oh really? Well if you're the one basing your facts off of delusions-"

"It's not a delusion! This thing is real!

"8 feet!"

"10 feet!"

"Oh please! Than explain where Banner and the boy went!"

Ross waves his hand booming voice snapping at the group of armed officers;

"What the hell is going on here?! I'm trying to run an army base not a damn daycare!"

One man nods frantically with his eyes wide;

"General, this thing was big. I don't know where it came from-"

"Enormous!"

"-But the thing ran off to the clear before we could shoot it..."

"Ugly as anything!"

"...If we give it a chance it'll kill half the army!"

Ross narrows his focus as if he hasn't heard them utter a sound;

"Where's Banner?"

They glance towards each other too preoccupied with the monster to think about anything else;

"We don't know Sir."

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Rick sighs, bending over to take a breather;

"Seriously I don't know where you think you're going...Back door? Oh sugar. Um...you're not going to...fit. Well, clearly you have no problem, destroying things."

The 'hulk' throws himself against the door, storming into his apartment. In the back of his mind, he knows there's a formula, something that can explain his current dilemma. There must have been something in the radiation, it's the only explanation. His roaring and trampling leave Rick with a pounding skull and a mess to climb over;

"This is cool and everything, but my legs are getting tired."

The giant let's his eyes circle the apartment, catching a glimpse of a familiar figure. His eyes widen, snarling instinctively at the sight.

Igor whips his head around, papers thrown about his apartment in search of those formulas. His jaw drops when he sees the beast, automatically aiming his pistol. Rick jumps behind him, gasping when the Hulk barely flinches over the bullet hitting his shoulder;

"My God!"

Igor takes a step back, sweat building up on his forehead in pure shock;

"What are you?"

The giant grabs the gun from his grip, crushing it with one fist before grabbing the man by the scruff of his neck in revenge.

"You're not human-! Wait! Stop!"

He growls, ready to throw the man across the room, "HUMAN!"

Rick runs behind him, raising his voice;

"Stop it! Don't! You'll kill him! Put him down!"

The Hulk complies, his way, hurling Igor to the ground with one swift blow. The man who became his first victim lays unconscious. Rick's eyes shift over the the desk, breathing heavy from his attempt to calm the giant;

"Woah, wait a minute. What's this?"

Jones reaches his hand into the box with the broken lock, studying the sketches and formula's Igor was looking for in the first place. Rick feels dizzy just looking at it, being more into English than science;

"You must be a genius when you're Bruce Banner."

The hulk growls, holding his head, "Puny Bruce!"

He scoffs, "What's wrong with Dr. Banner? He's you!"

He roars, leaving Rick to tumble backwards, tripping over a few books underneath his feet;

"Just, take it, easy!"

"Easy?"

"Yes! And no more smashing!"

"Smashing?"

"Yes! You've been breaking everything! I'm pretty sure Bruce Banner wouldn't do that!"

"Bruce is puny! Weak!"

Rick makes a face, rubbing his head;

"Okay, okay! I won't talk about him anymore!"

He grunts with approval, breathing calmer than he was before. Jones keeps his eyes on him, slowly coming to his feet. He brushes his sleeves shaking his head in disbelief;

"Boy! This is the last time I accept dares from other kids! What until I tell them about this."

He looks up at the green thing, sleepily loosing his footing for a moment. Rick crosses his arms;

"Now what?"

He takes a step back, watching the monster close his eyes and hold his head, muscles slowly contracting. He bites his lip when his skin tone changes back to a normal tan. He mumbles smirk on his face;

"You're changing again."

Bruce mumbles, groggy with a vague memory of Rick's voice and destroying everything he came across;

"Changing...Green? Breaking everything...Just tell me it's over."

Rick reaches into his front pocket, unfolding the glasses he held for Banner;

"Nice to have you back Doc."

He sighs with a nervous smirk, taking his glasses back;

"Nice to be able to think again. Thanks Rick."

"Why? You couldn't think?"

He looks down, analyzing his torn shirt and tattered pants;

"I remember noises, looking down to see everything...Was a nightmare."

Rick chuckles to himself with his arms crossed;

"Well it's over now so..."

"Open up in there! This is the police!"

. . . . . . . . . . .

Bruce jumps after hearing a pounding at the door, opening without hesitation. The amount of armed officials and officers who swarm through his apartment send him into a whirlwind.

"Where's the Hulk?!"

"Where is that monster!"

"He's in here somewhere!"

Bruce mumbles, rubbing over his sore shoulder;

"Hulk?"

Rick nudges him with a whisper, "They mean you Doc-"

Betty comes running in without a second thought, standing beside him with a look of pure horror over her face;

"Dr. Banner!"

"Miss Ross."

A man yells from the corner, hovering over Igor;

"Sir look! It's the spy we've been searching for!"

Bruce mumbles, glancing at Rick for clarification, "Spy?"

The boy shrugs his shoulders.

The officer nods after investing the man slowly waking up;

"Yep! That's him alright! What's he saying?"

His friend just shakes his head, "Keeps mumbling something about the 'Hulk.'"

"We'll get him to a doctor. And what happened to you Dr. Banner? Why did you leave the hospital? How did you get that shoulder wound?"

Bruce give sigh, still groggy as he looks over the gash on his shoulder, "I- I don't know-"

"And how do we know you're not mixed up in this?"

Rick makes a face, crossing his arms, "Oh please, what? You think he is the hulk?"

A man steps forward, pointing his finger, "Captain, this guy looks nothing like the monster. Looked more like a bear escaped from the circus or something."

Jones scoffs, "And I think you're all delusional."

The captain shakes his head, holding his hand out to take the papers from Bruce;

"You're fortunate Igor didn't get those formulas. We've been after this guy for months."

The physicist looks up with a blank expression, handing over his files, "Sir?"

"Forget it. I'll tell you some other time. Clear out boys, we've got a monster to track down."

Betty sighs, laying a hand on his bicep;

"Oh Bruce, are you alright? I wasn't expecting to find you caught up in the middle of all this."

Rick makes a face at the girl, "He's fine."

Bruce sighs, falling into the sofa behind him. He throws his head into his hands, still trying to process everything. She sits beside him, gently stroking his back;

"You don't look so good Dr. Banner, I'm worried."

"I'll be okay Miss Ross, I guess I'm just tired...It's just been a long day."

Rick snickers from the corner, "Yeah, what an understatement."

She smiles sweetly, pressing a reassuring hand over his;

"Feel better Bruce. Please don't hesitate to call me if you need anything."

He sighs, returning her sweet expression as best he can;

"Thank you Betty. It means a lot."

She blushes, standing up to head for the door. He stands after her, politely opening it for her;

"I'll call you later Betty, I promise. I just need a few minutes to pull myself together."

"Please call me Bruce. I want to help you."

"Thanks Betty."

Rick contorts his mouth, crossing his arms with a mumble and an eye roll;

"Oh so now it's 'Betty'."

The boy waves sarcastically when she leaves, giving Bruce a look;

"Well! Now that it's just the two of us, we can talk! What was it like being really tall and throwing things around? It looked awesome!"

Bruce sighs leaning over to clean the mess left behind;

"It was awful Rick, I said that. And how do I know when it's going to happen again?"

"Who says it will? Might have been a once in a lifetime opportunity. I'm just glad I got to see it."

Banner stares blankly at the wall, rubbing a paper with his fingertips;

"Call me insane but I feel it."

Rick crouches to his level, eyes narrowing, "How?"

He corrects him before going about his cleaning fit, "Why."

The boy shrugs, "I thought it was cool,' he pauses seeing Bruce getting serious with his sorting, 'Hey, I've got a question."

"Yeah what."

"Do you have a little OCD?"

Chapter Text

"Coffee Dr. Banner?"

He glances over his shoulder, seeing her sweet smile and tender expression;

"Hi Miss Ross. How are you?"

"Oh, fine. And yourself?" Betty lays her tray over his table, taking a look at the sketches of his latest project. Bruce had the paper out, sprawled over other sheets and news from the past few weeks.

She sighs, addressing his odd collection, coincidentally all talking about the large green monster;

"He must be terrifying to see with your own eyes."

He freezes, "Who ma'am?"

"This, the 'hulk'. Does it spark your curiosity Bruce? I notice you have been keeping the paper lately."

He pauses, looking down at his numbers, "Just. Forgot. To throw them out."

His stomach churns just thinking about the beast, sick over his latest explosion. When he closes his eyes, he can hear the screams, cloudy images of knocking people unconscious...at least he hoped they were unconscious. Just the feeling of growing large or seeing how green his hands got was enough to make him tremble.

Since the incident, the physicist set up a permanent 'lab' in his kitchen, diligently testing himself to understand why or how it happened and continues to happen. In all honesty, Bruce Banner was terrified.

"Look at today's Bruce, '2 pronounced dead after sustaining life-threatening injuries from an encounter with the monster'."

His hands go numb, lights flashing in his eyes when he feels faith. Bruce panics, gripping his pen so hard it snaps within his palm;

-Murderer! He's a god forsaken murderer! Just like his father!

Banner's heart drops at the sound of her voice, losing his footing before he feels gentle arms wrap around him from the back, "Bruce!"

Betty moves frantically, waiting until he's seated before fanning him with a thin brochure left out on the table;

"Please don't faint on me doctor! Are you alright?"

He catches her hand, vague expression of pure horror over his face. Bruce grips her a little tighter, feeling his head pounding. These feelings are so muffled, leaving him more confused than anything else.

Could be nerves or just another panic attack? Or is it happening?

-Dead! How could two people be lost from the world because of him?

Bruce swallows hard, shaking when he heads for the door as if it were beyond urgent;

"I need air."

Betty watches him leave, following a few steps behind him. She flinches when Ross catches his daughter by the arm. The General narrows his focus when he sees Banner run out the door, figuring she's followed Bruce;

"Where are you going?"

"I'll be right back Daddy."

He repeats himself, military instincts kicking in when he demands an explanation;

"Answer the question Elizabeth."

She sighs, caught within a grip she refuses to fight;

"I was going to check on Dr. Banner. I'm worried he might be ill."

"That's why we have physiologists."

Betty bites at her lip, pleading with her father;

"I wish you wouldn't talk about him that way. He's sick physically. Haven't you seen his eyes?"

"How can I?! That milksop never looks at me when I'm talking to him!"

"Maybe because he doesn't trust you-"

"If he's working for me I expect him to grow up a little!"

"Why do you act like he's a schoolboy!? You work that poor man like he's your personal slave and than wonder why he disappears so often!"

"Don't you tell me how to run my base young lady! You'll be out of work!"

"If you would just listen-"

"You'll do what I tell you to do! You hear me?! Elizabeth!"

She turns her head away from him, waiting to be 'set free'; "Yes father."

"Stay away from that Banner boy. And meet me in office 35 . There's someone who wants to meet you."

She nods, voice displaying her agitation;

"If someone wants to talk to me they can introduce themselves. They know where my room is."

"He's a Colonel. You'll pay him respect and do as he asks of you Elizabeth. I plan on putting him in charge of the team set out to capture the 'hulk'."

The instant Betty is turned loose, she makes a mad dash for the door, determined to go after the one person who treats her kindly and with nothing but respect.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Bruce paces, breathing quickly with his chest heaving in and out when he makes it to the alley, praying he doesn't explode. He feels like crying, laying open palms over his face out of desperation.

"Hey Doc."

Bruce jumps, flinching when Rick calls out to him;

"Seriously Rick! You can't scare me like that!"

He snickers, swinging his foot off the trash can he's sitting on top of;

"You worry too much! You only blew up once cause I scared you."

He sighs, removing his glasses to rub at his eyes;

"Which was the stupidest thing to do when I was already angry..."

He freezes, eyes wide when he looks at the teenager. Rick lifts his eyebrows, waiting for some scientific explanation that's bound to follow;

"Well?"

Bruce lifts his forefinger, "So, what if it feeds off of emotions?"

"Possibly. Why don't you find some way to test your theory- I know! I'll jump on you when you're not looking! I know how much you love hugs."

"Don't touch me!"

"Oh come on doc! What if I poke you?"

Bruce catches his arm when Rick stands beside him, eyes wide and pleading;

"You've got to be a little more careful! This thing is dangerous Rick!"

He scoffs, "Please! Dangerous for trees and buildings!"

"Didn't you see the paper this morning?"

"No."

He nods, hand over his forehead when he heads back to the building;

"I'm heading back to work, coming?"

"Where are we going?"

"Back to the base. I have to talk to Betty."

"Seriously...? Don't kiss in front of me!"

"On business Rick."

"Oh, okay. I'm allowed in there? Last time your Ross buddy kicked me out."

Bruce ignores him, expecting the boy to follow;

"I thought you weren't chicken?"

. . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Betty catches sight of the two of them, making her way towards Bruce;

"Dr. Banner! Are you alright?"

He nods, taking up her hand as he heads back for the building;

"I'm fine Miss Ross. I just...need your help, actually. If you're willing."

She nods, eyes wide, "Of course. What do you need?"

"I was wondering if you could run a few tests on me. Preferably in your lab without your father's knowledge. I feel like something's wrong...as far as my DNA goes, it's complicated. Can you help?"

Betty nods once more, determined to help as she leads the two-some into her office, pulling up a chair for Rick. Jones crosses his arms, flipping through a book left out on the table;

"You're a scientist too Miss Betty?"

She smirks, flipping on her tiny machines, "Yes. Cellular biologist."

He snickers, "What does an army base need with a biologist?"

Betty shakes her head, "Nothing, I'm hoping to work in a college once I move out and get my own place."

Bruce looks up at her, searching through her vials and syringes;

"You're moving out?"

She nods, "I have to so something with myself eventually. I can't do coffee runs forever."

He smirks, "And you shouldn't. You're smarter than that."

Betty feels her cheeks flush, extending his right arm before rolling up his sleeves;

"Just going to take a blood sample first. What are your symptoms Bruce? I'm not a doctor but I'd like to know what I'm looking for."

He sighs, holding his elbow to stabilize his arm for her while she rubs over his veins;

"Anything abnormal-"

Rick chimes in from the corner, "And he does mean anything."

Betty flinches when she's about to prick him with her needle. He lifts those pretty brown eyes with a gentle smirk;

"You okay? Is this a bad time?"

She smirks, "No, not at all. I'm sorry, it's just a quick pinch."

The lock drops over his eye when he whispers to her;

"It's okay Betty, you're doing fine."

She contorts her mouth, inserting her syringe. Her thumb rubs over a black and blue over that same arm, dark from his previous stabbings and injections;

"You've been busy Dr. Banner. And you can't pin point anything?"

He sighs, "I should've asked you sooner."

She nods, studying her sample, "That's what I'm here for Bruce."

Bruce leans in when she lays her sample on her microscope, computer sketching out unreadable letters and numbers. Her eyes widen, fingertips running over her enclosed container of his radiated blood;

"Wow. This is...Bruce take a look."

Rick jumps up, pointing to the computer;

"What? What is it? What does this mean?"

Betty lays a hand over her cheek, "This is...insane."

Bruce leans back on his heels, hands pressed into the table;

"Gamma Radiation, but how?"

She shakes her head, "From your accident...? Why would your skin absorb it? And you're feeling okay?"

He shrugs, relatively speaking, "Fine."

Rick mouths to his friend when she looks at her computer, 'Tell her!'

Bruce widens his eyes, moving his finger to his lips as if to hush him when he mouths back, 'No!'

The boy lifts his eyebrows, still mouthing behind her back, 'Come on!'

'I can't!'

'Chicken!'

'Read the paper!'

'Doc! She wants to help you!'

He ignores Rick's last comment, leaning in to study the numbers Betty's immersed herself in;

"How can I get rid of it?"

She sighs, "I don't know. I've never seen anything like this before. I'm going to save your data, hopefully we can make something of it."

"Thanks Betty."

"I wish I could help you more, I just don't see anything else abnormal."

"It's okay, I have to get back to work anyway."

Rick rolls his eyes, slapping his own cheek frantically mouthing back; 'TELL HER!'

She lowers her hand to take up his, giving him a gentle squeeze. She felt bad recommending this, having just scolded her father for this very thing;

"You've been under a lot of stress lately. Do you think what you're suffering from could be more emotional? I have a friend whose a very sweet psychologist, Leonard Samson."

Rick smirks, waving his hand, "It's not emotional ma'am, it's physical. Trust me."

Bruce gives him a stare down, rubbing his thumb over Betty's hand;

"I'll be alright Betty. Thanks for your help."

. . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Rick slams the door behind him, letting Banner jump from his seated position;

"Rick! Don't, startle me!"

Jones paces his office, arms crossed;

"I can't believe you didn't tell her!"

"What am I supposed to do?! Tell her I turn into that huge green thing that's destroying cities?!"

"If it means she can help you!"

"She can't Rick! That's the point! She's a Cellular Biologist not a miracle worker!"

He sighs, plopping in the chair beside him, "So what do we do?"

Bruce tosses the boy the news, "I'm a murderer. I should just kill myself..."

Rick's eyes widen when he reads the heading, "Doc this is serious."

"I know.' he turns to face the boy, eyes wide and expressive, 'Listen to me, this thing is getting unpredictable. If I ever hurt you on accident, it-"

"Come on doc, you're not going to hurt me..."

"I'm not talking about me Rick I'm talking about him. I...appreciate everything you've done but I think it's best if you stay away from me for a little while."

Jones lowers his eyebrows, tugging on his denim, "Stay away? After everything we've been through together?"

"I'm just trying to keep you-"

"The hulk isn't that bad! He's done so many good things!"

Bruce widens his stare, anger building;

"What?! By killing people!?"

"No! Don't you remember anything? We worked together, you, me, and if you want to make him something separate, the hulk. He's not a bad guy Bruce! Sure he's made some boneheaded manuevers every once in a while, but he's also done so many good things!"

The stubborn doctor just repeats himself;

"He's dangerous Rick. And how do you think I would feel if you were his next victim?!"

The boy collapses in chair positioned in front of the desk;

"I feel guilty enough over what happened you. Might be just as well."

"Don't talk like that. You're a great kid, and you've been a huge help. You've got the rest of your life ahead of you. There's no reason to be tied down to a monster."

Rick chuckles nervously, knowing he's being pushed away, "And whose going to hold your glasses for you when you turn green?"

"You've been a great friend, the only person I feel like I can trust with any of this..."

"Yeah I know."

"Rick, I'm just trying to help."

"Yeah I know. That's why it hurts."

"What hurts?"

He shrugs, "This, you're pushing me away. You've like, I don't know. Become like, my best friend. I know you're trying to protect me I just...whatever it's fine."

"You just what?"

He stands up, slowly heading for the door, "I guess I'm, just going to miss you."

Bruce is twirling his tongue and wringing his fingers out of nervousness, still feeling a warm sensation in his chest due to that pesky creature whose made a home in his body;

"I'm not asking you to stay away forever Rick. I'm going to miss you too. You're the only friend I've ever had. And I can't believe you stood by me through all of this. Just, wait until I get rid of it or, figure out what it is..."

"Well, as your friend, can I say something blunt?"

He nods, it wasn't like the boy was known for his tact anyway. Rick crosses his arms;

"Go tell Betty! Don't! Say another word just mull it over. And, look me up, when you figure out how to control it."

"I will."

He nods, biting his lip before heading out the door, "See ya doc."

Chapter Text

"Dr. Banner! Care to tell me what you're working on? My missile doesn't exactly require testing."

Bruce feels numb when he sees the General, swallowing hard before he can answer;

"Y-yes I know. I was um, working on something else-"

Ross takes a step forward stealing a vial from his hand to examine the contents;

"What are you doing Banner."

He snatches it back, ignoring that evil glare from his boss, "Nothing, just. Testing something."

"What."

"A theory."

Ross wraps a firm hand around Bruce's shoulder, turning him around roughly so he can look him in the eye;

"I've just about had enough of you and your strange disappearances! I know you were working with Igor but he'd convince you to become a spy yourself!"

He shudders under Ross' grip, breathing heavy to calm himself from being startled;

"I'm not a spy Ross-"

"Convince me! I'm not impressed with you lately Banner! And I have bigger things to take care of than your childish games! There's a hulk I could be focusing my attention on capturing and instead I have to babysit you!"

He grinds his teeth, clenching and unclenching a fist until he feels his heart pounding. Ross gives him a look, spotting a tinge of green on his upper cheeks;

"Now what's wrong with you, you...!"

"Nothing, just leave me alone."

The General cringes, storming from the room in disgust;

"My office is right next door. And God help you if you make one more mistake."

Bruce clenches his teeth with his head pounding. He mumbles to himself, tired of hearing a chuckle or a snarl in the back of his head. It was as if the beast had a mind of his own, verbally expressing those feelings Banner had within his mind;

-Stop it already!

"Bruce? What are you doing?"

He felt completely numb, vial slipping from his grip. He hangs his head low hearing Jones' voice in the back of his head to just come out and tell her;

"Betty, I- I don't know anymore."

She sighs, wrapping her arms around him without another word. She could tell from the look in those pretty brown eyes he was visibly upset though she still didn't understand why. He trembled lightly, muscles coming down from their initial tensing after a moment in her warm embrace.

Bruce felt like melting in her arms too distraught to say another word. He returns her hug, pulling her closer to him for comfort and stability. He sighs after a minute in her embrace, feeling his heart calm down immediately. He nuzzles into the crook of her neck and shoulder without thinking twice, restraining his tears.

She runs her fingers over the back of his head, rubbing at his upper neck when she whispers;

"You okay?"

Betty feels a chill run down her spine when he inhales a shuddering breath;

"You can talk to me."

He lifts his head up, inches away from her pretty face. He runs a gentle hand over her cheek, tears in his eyes;

"Oh Betty..."

She lifts the center of her eyebrows, hurting for him. Bruce lowers his head to plant a fragile kiss on her lips. She tugs back, gentle and slow with her maneuvers. She runs a hand through his hair, whispering to him softly;

"What are you doing later?"

He sighs, too busy holding her and kissing down her to answer politely. He couldn't take it anymore, desperately wanting to convey everything to her through a glance.

She touches his cheek, sensing his broken heart and extreme anxiety. The way he clung onto her as if his life depended on it made her own heart drop;

"I love you Bruce."

He gently lifts her chin and brushes the stray hair behind her ear;

"I love you Betty."

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

After work, he reaches into his regular pocket, pulling out a small note left by his pretty friend;

"Meet me at 7:00 if you want to talk. 447 Countyline. Apartment 5. Same town.

481-2308

I love you.

-Betty xoxo."

Bruce refolds her letter in half, biting his cheek as he paces the streets, recalling the activities of the large green monster. Betty deserved to know, and she was the confidant he had left.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

He knocks on her door, let in before he can even offer her a proper greeting. He looks her up and down, downright beautiful just like she always is.

Betty pinned her hair up for the night, highlighting her long neck and collarbone. She smiles when she spots him staring, cheeks flushing bright red. She taps the spot text to her, mug in her opposite hand;

"You can make yourself comfortable Bruce."

He shrugs, removing his hands from the pockets of his jacket;

"Sorry Betty, I didn't mean to stare."

She chuckles, rubbing her thumb over her mug, "You're so honest."

He watches her head lower, clasping his hands and surprised with her statement;

"What?"

Betty shrugs her shoulders, brushing her bags to the side;

"No it's just...nevermind. Can I get you anything?"

"No thanks. Actually, if you have water, they'd be great."

-If you have water. She covers her mouth with her hand trying not to laugh;

"Of course Bruce. I'll be right back."

He stands up to follow her, leaning in the door frame of her small kitchen area;

"You got yourself a nice little apartment."

She smirks, reaching for a glass in her cabinet, "Thank you. It's not much, but it serves it's purpose."

He smiles taking a step forward. She's only a few inches shorter than he is, but Bruce is certain he can reach things in her cabinets without her needing to struggle;

"I've got it Betty."

She takes a step back, happy she didn't have to pull over a chair just to gain a few more inches. She giggles;

"I feel so short sometimes."

He scoffs, "Welcome to my world."

"Aw Bruce, you're not that short."

"Thin, introverted, and short...it's not a good mix unless I plan on getting bullied the rest of my life."

Betty crosses her arms;

"You meant sweet, intelligent, and respectful."

His head lowers, letting the lock fall over his eye while he leans against her sink;

"...Proof you don't know me yet."

"Proof you believe the lies others say about you."

He glances upwards, sighing when she looks down;

"Do you?"

Betty shifts her focus upwards;

"Believe them?,' she shakes her head, 'How can I? I've spent enough time with you to know who you really are."

He scoffs, "A sarcastic, clumsy, mutant-"

Bruce feels her slender finger over his lips, begging him to stop;

"Don't talk like that. You're just repeating whatever your father drilled into you. Because it's all you've ever known. No one's ever told you the truth about how smart you are or praised you for how far you've come on your own."

He bites his cheek, lowering his eyebrows out of suspicion;

"How do you know that...about my-...father."

"Daddy. He's been tracking you since you were in fourth or fifth grade. Found everything there was to know about you. I'm just, assuming your father did more than physically mistreat you."

He shrugs casually with his head bowed low, "Yeah well...I guess it was just normal- for me at least."

Betty lowers her head, regretting bringing it up when she picks up on his uneasiness. Her eyes lift, not expecting him to continue, but he looked like he needed to vent;

"He'd come home drunk, beat the-...heck out of me and my mom. Hospital staff knew me by first name, I was in there enough. Usually blaming the injuries over falling down the stairs, or car accidents...one time she told them I was hit by a car. Honestly I thought I was going to die. And when she finally decided she'd had enough, you know what happened."

Betty tilts her head, "I'm so sorry Bruce."

He shrugs, "So what the heck is wrong with your father? I mean no disrespect I just want to know why he treats you so badly. I know you told me he didn't want a daughter."

She nods, slipping beside him, "He didn't. I think sometimes I remind him too much of mom. Daddy loved her and when he looks at me...it hurts to always be reminded of someone you lost you know what I mean?"

Bruce didn't understand it, but he nodded anyway. Betty reminded him of someone he lost, being with her didn't make him upset. In fact, being with the girl made him feel comfortable. He admitted to himself he was falling in love with her and her sweet qualities months ago and now that he had become so close to her, it was obvious to him just how much he wanted to be with Miss Betty Ross.

She sighs, resting a head on his shoulder;

"So did you read about the Virgo galaxy cluster?"

He lowers the side of his head over hers, breathing in her light perfume;

"And the ultraviolet tears."

"And capturing the 2-norbornyl cation?"

"Betty, did you apply for the job in the college yet?"

She sighs, breathing in the gentle scent from off his jacket;

"I did. Still waiting for a response. I hope I get in."

"You'll get it Miss Ross, they would have to be completely oblivious not to hire you. Seriously Betty, you're brilliant."

He slips his hand into hers, quietly laying the glass behind him to give her his full attention. She squeezes his hand in response to his gentle contact, looking up at him with her pretty eyes;

"Bruce, you're the sweetest guy I've ever met."

He snickers, "That's quite a mouthful."

She trembles lightly, lowering her head back to his shoulder;

"I mean it wholeheartedly. I love spending time with you. You always manage to make me feel like someone special."

Bruce lowers his head back over hers;

"Because you are Betty. I love you."

She smirks, pressing a kiss on his cheek, while his arm subconsciously snakes around her waist to hold her closer. Betty gently turns his face to kiss those tender lips of his, reaching her fingertips up to rub the back of his thick hair and neck. He wraps his arms around her, returning her kisses just as fragile as he always is.

She whispers when he pulls away, eyes wide and pleading;

"Stay? Please?"

He nods in between kisses, too desperate for her embrace to even think about saying 'no'. He pulls away after reality starts to set in, panting for air;

"You want me to stay?"

She nods, "Please stay Bruce."

He panics, gently removing his arms from around her waist and lays them over her biceps. Just the memory of what Angela Lipscombe did with him, and tried to do with him in college made him shudder, thinking Betty would hurt him the same way.

"No I don't-"

"...You don't want to stay?"

He brushes the lock over his eye, "No it's just- I don't feel comfortable...you know."

Betty picks up on his nervous energy, confused over his abrupt pulling away;

"Easy Bruce, I'm...Oh!' it's like a lightbulb goes off in her mind, 'Oh darling, I didn't mean it like that. I'm not going to force you to do anything. Are you alright?"

He nods, still getting over his awful memory, "Yeah, yeah. I'm okay. Sorry."

"Would you like to stay with me? I promise to get us to work on time."

He scoffs, "I'll drive Betty..."

"So you'll stay? You sure?"

"Yeah, it's just...bad experience."

"Darling what happened?"

"I'll- tell you some other time."

"Are you sure you're okay?"

"I'm perfectly fine. Um...what were we talking about?"

"We weren't." She smirks, replacing her gentle mouth over his when he seemed calm again.

. . . . .

He woke up beside her, comfortable distance between them, just like she promised. Betty had been so gentle with her kisses he wanted to melt. He looks over at the dark-haired girl, laying on her belly with her hands folded under her cheek. That pretty smile over her face sends his heart racing, too mesmerized by her eyes to utter a word.

She props herself up on her elbows, staying on her side of the bed;

"Good morning Bruce."

He smirks, running the back of his hand over her cheek, hoping he didn't react to badly to his rough nightmare;

"Good morning Betty. Did I keep you up?"

She kisses his hand, rubbing her own over his;

"Not at all."

He smiles, still resting his head on his pillow;

"You're so pretty Betty."

She chuckles, kissing his hand a second time when she blushes;

"Are you going to stay?"

He gives her a look, "What do you mean?"

She shrugs ever so slightly, "I want you to stay. It can, get lonely in the apartment. Especially at night. When you're with me, I don't feel so alone."

Bruce gives her a chuckle, "I have nightmares you know. They tend to get intense..."

-If she only knew the half of it.

"Me too."

"You sure you want me around?"

"Positive."

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Betty sits in her father's office, head rested on her hands as she stares at the clock. Her mind stayed fixed on Banner, wishing he would open up and tell her what was troubling him. She thought about his data and if she could find anything else abnormal besides the radiation. Of course, everything else looked perfectly normal.

Miss Ross shifts in her chair, checking her watch for the third time. She debates on giving Samson a phone call herself, maybe to explain her friends dilemma and get his imput.

"Miss Elizabeth Ross?"

She glances over her shoulder, polite smile over her face as she addresses the tall gentleman behind her, "Yes?"

"Colonel Glenn Talbot."

Betty just nods, glancing behind him out of slight boredom, "Oh hello."

He smiles, offering a handshake, "Your father told me you were pretty but was not expecting your eyes to be so enchanting Elizabeth. Do you always wear your hair up?"

She lowers her head uncomfortable with his manner. Her eyes widen slightly when his fingers find their way to her chin, gently lifting her head up;

"My my. I'm sorry about the delay I know your father was expecting me a few days ago."

She remains as polite as possible, gently pulling her face from his grip;

"Oh, well. Daddy should be in shortly, would you like me to get him for you Sir?"

"I wouldn't want you to burn yourself out darling. Actually I was hoping to talk with you, and it's Glenn my dear. Just Glenn."

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Bruce felt it happening, seemingly out of nowhere. He ran as fast as he could, searching for a quiet location with the least amount of people. He found himself getting desperate, bolting down an alley before his vision blurred. He didn't exactly know what happened to set him off in the first place, but being only a few blocks away from the army base wasn't doing anything to settle his nerves.

His head was pounding, stomach churning like the gamma rays all over again. Once his chest started to ache, he pins himself to the brick wall behind him, tugging at his loose curls. His eyes are shut tight, slightly happier he left his glasses on the desk of his office. Every vein in his body felt as if it were about to burst pooling the radiation through his body.

Bruce loses his balance when his muscles start to contract and tremble, slowly expanding with every breath he takes. He catches a glimpse of his reflection through the puddle left on the cement from the light rain. It wasn't so much what he become that made him sick, but what he did when he happened.

His eyes burn over the musty green patches over his skin, cringing in pain as he looses control. His eyes snap when his mind seems to melt away, transfixed on his first victim of the day.

There's smashing and roaring, trampling and throwing.

. . . . . . . . . .

Betty's eyes widen, ears perking up when she hears a muffled roar from outside. Glenn gives her a look when she glances out the window asking him if he heard anything. He contorts his mouth, realizing he's gotten no where with the girl;

"I didn't hear a thing Elizabeth."

She frantically dashes from the office, hearing the sirens rolling down the streets in a panic, wasting little time in running outside. The military officers have left, yelling for her to stay inside. Betty just cringes, anxious to see the commotion for herself. Whispers and mumbles of 'the hulk' being the cause leave her curious. As much as she fears the monster, there's a sense of danger that almost has her intrigued.

Betty makes her way through the quiet alleys, silently traipsing through the streets.

She jumps hearing a thud from behind her, ducking when debris flies over her head. She tries to hold in her scream, slowly peering over her shoulder. Betty's heart beat speeds up instantly, trembling when she stands only feet away from the large green thing. Her voice is gone when she thinks about screaming, hearing this muscular giant roar.

The one thing that consoles her is his lack of knowledge that she stands behind him. Betty slips behind the wall in front of her, seeing her father running up the street with his own team in an attempt to attack the thing.

Her jaw drops when she realizes the bullets do nothing to hinder him from smashing, throwing her arms over her eyes when he manages to fling the vehicles from his path.

Her eyes shift for a second from off of him, only to feel metal thrown at her moments later. Her scream is late, hearing her own shrill before she is forced into the cement from the sheer inertia of his throwing and blacks out completely.

. . . . . . . . . . .

"And you think it's coincidence that this thing just 'appeared' after testing your gamma bomb?!"

Ross waves a finger, of his good hand, opposite arm wrapping in a sling when he retorts;

"I didn't hire you to tell me what I do wrong Talbot!"

Glenn glares at him, tossing files onto the table;

"I know why you hired me. I want to know how I got roped into this!"

Ross lifts an eyebrow, "This thing is powerful don't you see how this can be used against our enemies if we find a way to control it?"

Glenn crosses his arms, "So you want the monster that almost killed your daughter to be your ally? That's diabolical."

"Damn it Glenn, I'm going to use him. I want that thing captured so I can take it apart, cut him open so my scientists can figure out how he works and then make me another one!"

Talbot scoffs at the idea, propping his feet on the table;

"Yeah, and what are you going to do? Put Banner in charge of it? Ha! That'll be the day. That scrawny kid wouldn't last a day on that project."

"As much as I hate that boy, he's a genius. If he wasn't so introverted he might get somewhere in life."

Glenn taps his pencil, inviting himself to the cigar box;

"So what's the plan."

"I'm sending men to find the thing."

"That's basically impossible, we have no idea where he went!"

"Yeah you do."

The two men look up at the teenager, let in by two other scientist;

"Rick Jones Sir."

"Damn it! This is the boy I kicked out weeks ago for following Banner around!"

"He says it's important that he speaks with you."

Ross gives Glenn a look, waiting for him to continue, "Well get on with it! We don't have all day!"

Rick crosses his arms, parking in the chair beside him;

"Take it easy grandpa, what are you in a rush for? Besides, I've got some juicy information I'm willing to disclose if you're patient!"

The Colonel leans forward, lowering his feet from off Ross' desk;

"Come on kid, hurry up and spit it out. You're on military time."

He delays, still trying to feel them out;

"Jeez! What are you in a rush for?"

Ross lifts the paper, pointing to a screaming giant on the cover;

"This! A monster threatening to destroy civilization as we know it! So move along so I can track him-"

"You won't have to track him. He's right here."

Glenn gives him a look, "Excuse me?"

"Here. He's in your base."

Ross rolls his eyes, ready to throw him out;

"It's impossible..."

"-You think the monster is always that big?"

Talbot chimes in, "Of course."

"Says who? Think about it. What if someone were to, morph into something else on occasion."

"You know something..."

"Duh!"

"You give me any more lip!"

Glenn holds his head, urging Ross to be patient;

"So, Rick was it? You're say that this...'Hulk', is not always a life-threatening monster and that's he's human?"

"Maybe..."

"Maybe?"

He shrugs, "Yeah, but you wouldn't believe me."

Ross turns his back to the boy, staring out the window to avoid wringing his neck. Talbot remains patient leaning forward in his chair;

"If you can prove it to me, I'd believe you."

Jones contorts his mouth, shifting restlessly in his chair;

"Actually I can, but it's complicated..."

"I'm listening son."

Rick licks his lower lip, starting his story from the time Bruce saw him out on the testing grounds and threw him into the trench. He lowers his head regretting how stupid he'd been that day, claiming how the person who saved him changed his life for the better. He narrows his focus, saying how when he wasn't with Bruce, he was spending time with the hulk.

Ross whips his head around;

"So you're saying, that Bruce Banner is the Hulk?!"

Talbot smirks, "I told you it wasn't coincidence that he appeared after the bomb exploded."

Rick stands up, automatically regretting his big mouth;

"You can't blame Dr. Banner for this! He never wanted it to happen."

Glenn waves at him on, "No one blames him kid. He's just the one who created the bomb in the first place. Why didn't you come forward sooner?"

He sighs, "He thought he could find some way to destroy it before you found out. He didn't want anyone to get hurt, especially Betty."

"Have you seen my daughter?! Have you seen what the bastard has done to Elizabeth!?"

"He didn't mean to do it! He would never hurt your daughter! It just happens!"

"So he's out of control?"

"Yeah-well, no, it's not like that!"

Ross gives his men a hand signal, "Get him out."

Rick pulls from their gentle grip, looking Glenn in the eye;

"What will you do?! It's impossible to kill him!"

Talbot smirks, "Well, we are going to see if we can stop him from destroying things and harming people. That's all. We're a military base, we can work miracles."

Rick nods, oblivious to his tricky words, "Okay. You swear it."

"I swear it."

He stares at them hesitantly, lead out of the room by the other scientists.

Ross slams his fist onto the table, eyeing Talbot;

"I want the hulk dead Talbot, you hear me? And I don't care about losing Banner in the process."

"Sir?"

"If he runs, you're going to hunt. Him. Down. Collect any data you have on the bastard and get it to me. Contact Stark and get me his top weapons. Tell him we're dealing with the monster and make it urgent...I don't care what you have to do, you're going to kill that son-of a bitch."

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

He felt sick just looking at her, sitting at her bedside in the hospital of the base. Betty's scars over her arms and face we dark leaving Bruce sick to his stomach. How could he hurt her?

There are tears in his eyes when he runs a gentle hand over her cheek. And it all could've been avoided. Memories flashed in his mind when he watched her thrown to the pavement, lowering his eyes over the cuts on her arms.

-Why? Why did this have to happen?

Bruce wasn't sure how long he stayed with Betty since that morning, but it had to have been at least 6 hours and with no intention of leaving until she woke up.

Banner jumped, feeling a firm hand on his shoulder. He spots Ross with a sling on his arm and there is no doubt in his mind that he's the cause. His heart palpitates when the General narrows his focus, clenching his teeth as he drags him into the hallway;

"You monster! Look what you've done you-"

Bruce feels like crying when he hears him scream, recalling a memory that makes him feel 3 years old again, waiting for his father to throw another punch;

"General, I didn't mean to hurt anyone-"

He lifts his hand to the boy's chest, nudging him roughly and too angry to think clear enough to call Talbot into the room;

"Murderer!"

Bruce steps backwards to catch his footing eyes closed in an attempt to stay calm;

"Sir please just listen to me-"

"Listening to you has gotten me nowhere mutant! Get out of my sight!"

Bruce clenches his teeth lump in his throat when he lays his hands on the door, aching over the tone in Ross' voice;

"And stay away. Your secrets out Banner! And when they find you, you'll be spending the rest of your life in a cage, torn apart until they've decided to kill you!"

He studies the look in Bruce's eyes when he gives a backwards glance;

"And don't bother running Banner! I will find you!"

. . . . . . . . . . . . .

Bruce reached his home, heart palpitating to the point where he can physically hear himself panicking. He snatches necessities from his apartment; cash, chemicals and his mother's photograph before bolting out the door in the middle of the night with no intention of going back.

When he reaches the road he can hear sirens from a mile away, narrowly escaping those military officers and their weapons.

He's panting when he reaches the train station, hopping on a one way trip to anywhere. Bruce sighs when he looks out his window, regretting having never took Rick's advice to tell Betty in the first place. At least she would've known what to expect.

He snatches up a pad and pen, writing anonymously to the girl who means the world to him.

. . . . . . . . . . . . .

'Mysterious Incident in the Culver University Laboratory.'

'Dakota Family Makes Frightening Discovery; Green Monster Sightings.'

Betty skims through the paper, mortified over the recent news thrust upon her with no compassion. She holds her head, sitting in the office of her new job of teaching. Skimming through the images of broken cars and of homes that were destroyed always made her sick. And to think that kind-hearted physicist was the monster, just didn't make sense. Her eyes widen, reaching in her pocket for the data she managed to steal from her father before leaving and cutting off contact with him completely. She'd have to keep it hidden, and maybe one day she could figure out what happened to her friend.

That poor boy didn't deserve this. And she knew Bruce wanted to tell her sooner, it was in his eyes. She knew he never wanted to hurt anyone and she prayed he'd be alright on his own.

As long as her father never found him, he'd be okay...

Chapter Text

Bruce woke up in a fog, lower back aching from latest explosion. His muscles tense when his eyes close, remembering their guns and weapons, fired shamelessly in his direction. In his mind, there was no reason to survive through such an ordeal.

He cringes when he pushes his body back on his heels, stuck in an uncomfortable bed and run down shack in the middle of nowhere. He clenches his teeth, head pounding when he finally starts to come to his senses;

Texas? No, he was much more south than that...Mexico? No no, that was last week. He remembered that, caught up in some deranged plot with a sick man dead set on exploiting Banner for his green skinned alter ego.

Costa Rica? Did he even make it that far? Banner rubs at his eyes, frantically running for the small hole considered a window when he hears footsteps. His forefinger lifts the blind, mumbling under his breath when he spots armed forces, snatching up his bag of nothing but necessities before running through the back door.

He can hear them following behind him, weaving through the area to force them to their heels. He panics when his heart starts pounding determined to hold off the thing inside of him. Bruce glances over his shoulder when he heads for the dock, slipping between cargo to hide from their view. He presses two fingers over his wrist, cringing when he mumbles;

"Not now not now!"

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Betty glances upwards, vague expression over her face when she places her order, busy grading homework in the small pizza place;

"I'm sorry Stan, I'll take my usual."

The elderly man leans on his towel pressed against the table, expressively waving his hands;

"Elizabeth, you've been sitting here for thirty minutes and all you want is coffee? Eat something, it's on the house."

She shakes her head, slipping her reading glasses from off her face;

"No thank you, I guess...I'm just out of it."

He shrugs, waving his finger with a sympathetic look over his face before taking the order of someone else nearby;

"You miss your friend. I can't blame you, I miss him too."

Betty lowers her head, sorting through her papers when she replies, "I feel so bad for him."

He nods, handing her the news from that morning, "Me too."

She holds her head, eyes reading over the top story. Her father wasted no time in trashing his name, saying he was wanted by the government for creating the large green hulk. She couldn't handle the public lies anymore, not when she knew the truth. Betty pushes it to the end of the table and out of her view.

Her eyes narrow when she spots an envelope with her name on it. Her heart drops when she sees it's been sent anonymously, slipping her forefinger underneath the seal to pry open her letter, sent months prior. Her eyes fill when she glances over his brief, heart-felt page full of apologies and nothing but affection for her. She swallows hard, hand over her mouth when he pleads with her not to reply believing it's best for the both of them. She feels a tear slip down her cheek when she reads his 'I love you', ready to break down right then and there.

Betty jumps when she feels a hand over her shoulder;

"Hey, are you alright Elizabeth?"

She tries to smile, frantically brushing away her tears with one hand and hiding her letter with the other;

"Oh, hi Leonard, I'm okay."

He lifts his eyebrows compassionately, rubbing his thumb over her shoulder, "You sure?"

"Yes, I'll be fine."

Leonard Samson gives her a smile, pointing to the chair across from her, "May I?"

She nods, throwing her papers into a folder to clear off the table, "Of course."

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

He knew those young woman were giggling and talking about him, parked on the sidelines to do their own chores by a small fire. The way the three of them would blush when they glanced his way, point and than act as if nothing was wrong. He'd heard words like 'lindo', 'guapo' and 'extranjero' for all four days he'd been there, purchasing a dictionary for his own sake. He knew he'd have to learn a little Spanish if he was going to function in South America and listening to their Spanish made him feel a little bit more welcomed. They seemed to like the 'foreigner', or, at least the way he looked. He could imagine Betty's chuckle if he told her he barely knew anything about the native language.

He just shakes his head with a smirk, checking the shirts he hung outside on a clothesline.

Bruce feels his heart jump when they squeal, dropping their baskets when they stand up to look at their friend. His eyes flick their way, concerned over their strange behavior when he takes a step towards them;

"Estas bien?"

The girl's tremble, one brave enough to be pointing towards the animal as it slithers away while the others hover around their friend. They could tell by his two words he wasn't a native speaker, questioning his dialect;

"Americano?"

"Si." He kneels beside the girl's friend, spotting the bite on her forearm. She shakes her head biting her lower lip in pain;

"Not toxic."

He keeps her arm low, urging her to lie down when he taps her shoulder, mumbling under his breath when he unzips his sweatshirt to lay it over her;

"A bite's a bite."

Her friend stands behind Banner, hands over his shoulder. He can feel her gripping at his button down, nervously digging her nails into his skin.

He glances at the other girl, keeping a hand over the forehead of the victim struggling with his Spanish;

"A-Agua? Agua y- um...jabon."

Bruce slips the bracelet from off her wrist and hands it to her friend to account for swelling. He holds the back of his hand against her cheek, gentle expression over his face to reassure her;

"You'll be alright I promise."

She nods, having not one clue what the cute boy just said, only aware of the fact that he was trying to help her;

"Gracias."

. . . . . . . . . . . .

Bruce flips open his laptop, constructing a small laboratory in his tiny shack. His vials were set up perfectly ready to make another attempt on destroying the beast inside of him.

He smirks when he seems his chemicals coming together, hacking the computer in an attempt to make contact with the only girl worth risking his cover for. Bruce had been aching to talk to her, hold her, and just hear Betty's voice since he left New Mexico.

She was in every dream and every thought. Miss Ross was the only female he had feelings for, determined to see her again once he figured out what was wrong with him and how to stop it from happening.

His heart drops when the connection fails, eyes refocusing on a chemical he created days prior. How could he even think about getting in touch with Betty with the beast inside of him?

There's a lump in his throat when he switches projects, loading a syringe with his 'drug'. He scoffed, there was no other word for it.

Bruce extends his arm, heading the advice from his new contact and his undercover name, 'Mr. Blue.' A man who seemed willing to help Banner with his peculiar problem despite a lack of specific information.

The physicist cringes when he sticks the point into a vein, looking at the bruises from his ruthless jabbing. Miss Ross was so much more gentle than he was...and what he'd give to spend just one more day with Betty! He felt more and more lonely the longer he was away from her, wishing he had a companion of some sort.

He scoffs at an idea;

-He should get a dog.

Bruce jumps, reaching for his latest purchase to slip it onto his wrist for safety's sake. He paid attention to the numbers, slowly raising faster and faster until his heart rate hits closer to the 200 mark. He panics, running from the shack towards a more deserted area, feeling his head start to pound and the monster inside begging to break loose. What hurt the most was that there was no possible way to hold him back.

Chapter Text

Chapter 40

Bruce bites his lip, skimming through a Portuguese dictionary for a new word. He glances down at the adopted stray dog at his side, tilting his head over Banner's attempt to pronounce it;

"Okay, don't look at me like that. I'm trying."

His puppy yawns, kneeling down to rest her head on her paws. He sighs, bending over to scratch her head after leaving a plate of food on the ground for her;

"Be a good girl. I'll be home later. You'll watch the house?"

She tilts her head. He smirks;

"Stay safe."

It felt good to close the door of his run down shack, someplace he could call a temporary home, a place he'd been able to spend the past 4 months without running. He slips a new monitor onto his wrist to keep track of his pulse while heading down the highly populated streets of Rochinha Favela in Brazil.

He heads for that aikido studio he's been spending the past week in, working on breathing and control in the hopes he'd pick up something to stop the green devil from reappearing, or at least coming him enough to control it.

Bruce gives his trainer a friendly smile that's returned within moments. The instructor leads him off to a separate room before parking on the floor and urging his 'student' to do the same;

"Breathe from your diaphragm, control."

He complies like he's instructed, attempting a new way to breathe while the trainer rambles in Portuguese;

"The best way to control your anger is to control your body."

Bruce translate the word 'control' and 'anger' but not much else, looking for non verbal hints for a translation. He nods when he receives a tap on his wrist, watching the more muscular gentleman use excessive hand gestures to get the point across. Bruce shuts his eyes for a moment, ready to bite his cheek when he feels an unexpected slap across his face. It wasn't his favorite part of training, recoiling memories of his father's abuse, but it could've been worse. He bit his lip and dealt with it, trying to focus on his alter ego and the purpose of his being there in the first place.

He refocuses downwards, hearing his monitor start to beep when he starts breathing frantically. His trainer picks up on his surprise, waiting until he seems to be gaining control before slapping him harder on the other cheek. Bruce lifts a hand immediately when his pulse starts to race;

"Wait! Wait..."

His trainer tilts his head almost sympathetically, knowing his student has reached his limit;

"Breathe."

Bruce nods, once he knows he's reestablished control over his pulse;

"Okay, I'm okay."

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Bruce was happy to find a job, regardless of whether or not he found it just as enjoyable as the one back home. He never imagined himself stuck in a bottling plant when he was in college, let alone Brazil of all places. Working among dirty walls, old cracked floors and naked bulbs were the least of his complaints at this point in this life.

He's by a locker room when four other male workers accidentally bump into him in their playful banter, not one of them turning around to acknowledge to smaller dark-haired American. Bruce literally rolls with the punches, colliding into his locker before walking off to do his rudimentary job to take care of the other workers doing the labor.

A pretty girl gives him a polite smile when he delivers to her, picking up on his distant nature, mind off to somewhere else...or someone else. He jumps when he hears the manager waving to get his attention. Bruce complies, walking over to help him with a broken machine.

He tries his Portuguese, trying to explain the problem of the frayed wires over the conveyor belt. It wasn't much more complicated than Jennifer's creation, handed to him when he first got to his Aunt Susan's. He smirked at the memory, refocusing on the manager when he tries to communicate with the employee he can never understand. He rants in his native language, unable to comprehend a lick of English;

"I keep telling you...let me put you on the payroll. I can pay you what you're worth."

Banner just looks up and smiles, fingers busy with the wires trying to translate one word of his sentence. He winces, pulling his hand away before he can notice his radiated blood oozing from a fresh cut. He panics, dashing down the stairs to make sure nothing spilled from him and landed on the belt;

"Stop! Parer?- Parar! Parar! Excuse me, pardon me...sorry."

Banner hugs his hand into his torso, keeping the open part upright to avoid spilling anymore. He breathes a small sigh of relief when he finds a drop on the conveyor, quickly cleaning it up to the best of his ability with a cloth from his pocket. His brown eyes narrow, brushing the lock from his eye to sharpen his blurry focus when he double checks his clean up.

Bruce wraps the towel around his hand, to stop the bleeding, waving for the manager to give him an 'all clear';

"Okay."

Banner lowers his head when the gentleman gives him a look with a slight eye roll, not understanding a lot more than just his English.

Bruce reaches into his pocket, desperate to stop the gushing blood on his hand. He mumbles with an eye roll, pulling out a little crazy glue. He bites the cap off with his teeth, moaning low when he feels a little sting from something he knew better than to use on an open cut.

But desperate times, call for desperate measures...

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Betty sighs when she's handed a paper from one of her students, never able to look at him with his dark hair and glasses without thinking of her friend. He was taller, more social and much more stocky, but she found every opportunity to think about Bruce. Maybe this young man's name was what set her off in the first place;

"Thank you Robert, I'm sure this is perfect."

He smirks, pushing his lenses further up his nose;

"I don't know Miss Elizabeth, I think I may have messed up on a few of the equations. I'm not very good at math."

She nods, biting her upper lip;

"Me neither."

He smirks, waiting for his friends to hand in their assignments when he sees her head bow;

"Are you okay ma'am?"

She holds her head, waving her hand;

"Oh. I'm fine Robert. But thanks for asking."

He smiles when his girlfriend wraps an arm around his waist;

"Terry and I are going out for coffee during the break, you want anything Miss Elizabeth?"

Betty swallows hard when she sees them together, thinking about the time spent in her apartment with his sweet smile and beautiful eyes. She missed those eyes...;

"No thank you."

Her head lowers when her classroom clears, holding her forehead with both her hands when she hears a knock on her door;

"Yes."

She glances upwards, seeing that strange physiologist she calls her friend sneak in with a magazine of sorts behind his back. She contorts her mouth;

"What is it Leonard?"

He smirks, "Oh nothing. Just a little brochure I picked up this morning. Look who made page 10."

She shakes her head when he shows her the picture, busy scrutinizing herself;

"I look plain awful."

He sits on the edge of her desk, giving her a sweeter smile;

"No you don't."

She snickers, "Yes I do, my hair is a mess. And what am I doing do my lab coat?"

Leonard fixes his eyes onto hers;

"You know, that's the first time I've heard you laugh since Dr. Banner disappeared. How long is that Miss Ross? 4 years?"

Betty looks up, eyes shifting back down uncomfortably. He loses his smile, gently lifting her chin up;

"Hey, you alright? I'm sorry, I didn't mean to bring up-"

"No, it's okay. I know, it's...time to move on. I'm sorry."

He nods, releasing his tender hold on her;

"No, it's normal Betty, it's okay. You loved him."

She blushes, running her fingers over the desk;

"I did...I still do."

He smirks, rubbing a hand over hers;

"Can I take you out later? After work? Get pizza or something."

She nods with a smile;

"That would be great."

He smirks, panting a kiss on her cheek;

"I'll see you later Betty."

Her eyes close when she feels his mouth touch her skin for the first time. Swallowing hard when he leaves the room. She shakes her head, snatching up the paper from that morning to hopefully focus on something else.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

"Here's something a bit more interesting; Possible gamma sickness. Milwaukee."

The general narrows his focus, taking the paper from his secretary while he puffs his cigar. She shrugs;

"Man drank one of those sodas, guess it had a little more kick than he was looking for."

He mumbles, beyond disgusted with multiple false alarms;

"Yeah, and the last three were irradiated fruit, not Gamma..."

"Look at the spectrograph in that path report. Even the FDA didn't approve that."

Ross stands up abruptly, voice changing automatically;

"Where was it bottled?"

"Porte Verde, Brazil."

His eyes widen;

"Get our agency people looking for a white man at that bottling plant. Tell them no contact if he even sees them, he's gone."

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Banner can't help but smile when he flips through a physics brochure he picked up from the street vender. He paces his tiny shack, flipping the pages with his dog following him around with her tail wagging. She whines, practically begging for him to stop moving around and settle somewhere so she can park on his lap. Her ears go back when he freezes, circling around her owner to lift her nose up at him, begging for a rub down.

He sighs when he sees her picture, literally being years since he's seen her face. Betty Ross is the same as he remembers, with a smile on her face in her new classroom she's teaching in. He smirks when he reads the blurb, turning the book around to kneel down show his puppy. She was his little companion and he wanted to share it with someone;

"Look. It's Betty...she got that job she wanted."

He smirks when she presses her nose against him, nuzzling for a pet. He complies scratching behind her ear. He lifts his chin up, eyes closing shut when she licks his cheek, strong enough to keep him down at her level if she wanted to. Bruce gives her a rub down;

"Okay okay, you hungry? Fa-minto? Faminto..."

Her tail starts wagging leading barking to express her contentment. He smirks;

"You're a good girl."

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

"Shut up and listen to me. You're going to hunt him down if it's the last thing I do! Brazil isn't impossible to reach!"

She nods, clipboard in her hands'

"We're trying our best Sir-"

"Well try harder!"

"Yes Sir."

"Anything Talbot?"

Glen spins in his chair;

"I'd love to be chasing down monsters with you General, but I've got a bigger problem to attend to right now. Happens to be on the opposite end of the world."

Ross narrows his focus, arms crossed;

"So you're leaving."

"Right now, yes. This shouldn't take long."

The general grinds his teeth, watching his Colonel pace the room;

"I hired you, to-"

He snaps, "Yeah I know what you hired me for! And tracking down a bloody fugitive wasn't part of the agreement!"

Ross lowers his head, trying not to scream. Glen snatches his coat from off the rack;

"And while we're on the topic I haven't heard from your daughter in a year. You've been so obsessed with the Hulk you've abandoned your child-"

He retorts back, "She abandoned me! Pissed off ever since I said I was going after Banner. For all I she thinks he's dead."

Talbot shakes his head, "She's your daughter General."

"She's Leonard Samson's problem now. I don't have time for her Glen. I have more important things to take care of."

He nods, slightly irritated;

"So do I."

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

He's smiling when he enters his home, he holding a slender package to let his nosey pet get a look for herself;

"See that? That's our ticket out of here."

He paces the shack, reopening supplies he hasn't touched in a day or two. Bruce opens his draw to search for the vials, putting out that picture of Betty from the the brochure he cut out, leaving it up where he can see it. Banner breathes a heavy sigh, kissing the tip of his thumb before pressing his finger over the picture of her pretty face before trying to establish a connection on the mini computer he's manipulated;

"I need a little luck Betty, just a little."

His brown eyes fix onto hers, sick over the fact that she's not next to him. No matter how many years go by she's still the only person he thinks about. The only person in the world whose never done anything to hurt him...at least not yet.

He snaps out of his trance once he feels his heart pounding, glancing upwards to hold back the tears and refocus on the project he knows will take hours. He slips on his glasses before chopping up the head of a few flowers, mixing them carefully with self-labeled bottles. He fills a few homemade test tubes, butterflies swarming through his gut when he goes to prick his finger, careful to drip on a few drops on blood onto his glass slab.

The physicist gives his dog a quick look who watches him intently, lifting his eyebrows when he's ready to add a few drops of the liquid from his flower.

Bruce slides it under the microscope, watching the green tinge of radiation rattle his red blood cells. He sees the purplish liquid literally boiling around the cells; no change.

He feels his heart starting to pound, adding one more small drop to his blood in the hopes it was his mistake. He bites at his cheek, pulling back when he sees the green tinge overpowering the purple, throbbing for revenge when the glass breaks from under his microscope.

Bruce pulls back from his equipment, falling into the chair behind him with his forehead pressed against the heel of his hands. He feels nauseous, headache coming back when he loses that smile, and the thought of permanent liberation that came with it.

His eyes close, feeling like breaking down and crying, or, at the very least passing out from exhaustion. His eyes flick up when he hears a bell go off on his computer, reading a note from Mr. Blue;

'Mr. Green? Did it work?'

He shakes his head, biting at his lip before he goes to type a response;

'Another failure.'

'Your tissue exposure must be relatively high.'

He scoffs, 'Very high.'

'Try a high concentration. Slightly. 100 parts per million = lethal toxicity. How many flowers do you have left?'

'None. Supply is limited.'

'We need to meet. Send me a blood sample.'

He shakes his head, looking at the broken slab of glass over his floor;

'Not safe.'

'Living with Gamma poisoning is not safe. Most people don't live long enough to be helped. Intrigued by your case.'

'Not safe for either of us.'

'You need help. Gamma is not something to mess with...Let me help you.'

Bruce sighs, forehead falling back into his hand when he glances back at that picture of Betty, caught up in his own disappointment. He swears under his breath before he going through a bag of supplies to search for a syringe. Cringing when he's about to stick himself after what feels like the millionth time, drawing a full vial of his blood to send to 'Mr. Blue.'

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

"Who's our 6?"

The other military man smirks, looking up at his friend;

"Blonsky."

"Thought he was on vacation."

"He got bored. Volunteered once he heard Talbot was out for the month."

General Ross makes his way over towards the two men, glancing over a clipboard;

"I know you cashed some chips for this one Sam. I'm grateful."

The gentleman nods politely, waiting on the runway for the rest of his team to arrive;

"Glad to do it. Just make it good General."

He nods, almost devilishly;

"Oh, this will be interesting."

Chapter Text

"This is the target and location. Insert and grab only, live capture. You'll have traq rifles and suppression ordnance. Live fire for backup only. We've got help from local but we want it tight and quiet."

Blonsky flicks his eyes upwards after scanning over the paper, analyzing the photograph of the dark-haired physicist;

"Is he a fighter?"

Ross glances over his shoulder, chiming in for the first time all morning to speak for his assistant;

"Your target is a fugitive from the U.S government. Implicated in the deaths of three scientists, a military officer, an Idaho State trooper and possibly two Canadian hunters for starts, so don't want to see if he's a fighter! Just put him to sleep."

Blonsky nods, return his glance to the paper in front of him while Ross keeps talking;

"Each three man team will be issued a radiation sensor which we will monitor remotely as well. First blip I want to know about it. Clear?"

His eyes narrow towards one of his hired muscle;

"What? This guy steal plutonium?"

"Something like that."

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Bruce makes his way around his facility, nodding towards a fellow employee when he waves his fist;

"I know, I'll get to it I promise."

He shoves the side of his forefinger into his mouth, frantic to stop the bleeding when he mumbles under his breath;

"Can you be a little more clumbsy Banner..."

His eyes shift up after wrapping a cloth around his finger, hearing the portuguese mumbling from those bullies that seem to get away with whatever they want. He sighs almost frustrated when he sees a recognizes that pretty girl, clearly frightened over being surrounded by those intimidating individuals. Bruce shtus his eyes, his big heart stopping him from walking away like he knew he should. He takes a quick glance at his heart monitor, before seeing her push someone's hand away from her in self-defense.

Bruce heads in their direction, unable to contain himself anymore;

"Tudo de bom?"

He barely flinches when they all turn to him, her eyes wide as if she's pleading for help. The leader waves his hand dramatically, urging him to go about his business and stay out of it;

"Se perder mula estamos falando."

Bruce ignores him, addressing the girl behind him;

"Voce esta bem Senorita?"

She shakes her head 'no' in response to his question, 'Are you alright?' The leader turns around to push Banner from his way, forcefully pounding his hands into the smaller man's chest. The girl screams when the other guys move to the sides, eager for a fight. The physicist lifts his hand, hearing his monitor going off;

"Stop, listen; nao me...faminto? No, wait, that's not right...Wait!"

He dodges a punch from the man, weaving to avoid a punch. Bruce was used to maneuvering his body to avoid attacks, weaving skillfully before he starts to breathe heavy. He throws his arms over his face once he's had enough, never fighting back. He sighs gratefully when he hears the manager yelling from the catwalk above them to get back to work.

The girl clutches a hand over her chest, running over to Bruce when the others disappear. She lays a hand over his shoulder while he lowers his head, still breathing heavy. She smiles appreciatively, thanking him in her own language. He nods almost mechanically, smirking out of politeness before running off to hide and get his pulse back down to a normal level.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

He's finally half-asleep when he hears his computer go off, petting the dog who stays at his side. Bruce peels himself from the bed, slightly trembling over a memory of being chased from another one of his hiding places. His eyes widen when he sees a message from 'Mr. Blue';

-'Mr. Green! Concentration of 150ppm mitigates the gamma saturation in your sample. Incredible toxicity but it could work.'

His heart pounds in disbelief;

'What do you need?'

-'More data. Concentration levels, cell saturation...'

He mumbles to himself, "Oh come on!"

'It's not here.'

-'Where is it?'

He sighs almost vacantly, accidentally glancing at the picture of Betty;

'Home.'

. . . . . . . . . . . . .

"Is that yours?"

Blonsky nods, smirking when he reaches a door, having stormed through the village with his five-man team;

"What now Sir?"

Ross leans forward from a few miles away, analyzing what's on screen through his camera. He growls when he sees the dog's mouth cover over his few;

"Get rid of the damn dog."

Blonsky seemingly ignores him, urging his crew to blow the door. They storm through his tiny shack, scrambling through small spaces while his dog barks loud enough to cause a stir. Ross screams over the intercom, mistaking shadows for his victims;

"Take him!"

Blonsky remains calm, "Target's on the move."

"Where is he!"

Eyes widening when he hears a scream from the 'apartment' on the floor below him, frantically opening the window to spot a tangling rope;

"He's on the ground."

"Move!"

. . . . . . . .

He breathes frantically, dodging the pedestrians, apologizing softly to the small cars he cuts off while he's on the run. Bruce feels his eyes widen when he spots an armed leader, desperate to stay under-cover before Blonsky makes his move in the foot-chase.

Banner manages to keep them running through the back alleys, onto the terraces. Everytime he glances over his shoulder he can see the figures, heart rate slowly rising until it's pounding out of his chest. He cringes when he hears a fire, jumping slightly over the sound of the darts bouncing from off of the walls.

He knows he's managed to lose at least two of them due to their lack of agility, hiding for less than a minute to catch his breath before Blonsky's caught up with him again.

The beeping from his monitor continually gets worse when he bolts through an alley and turns the corner. His eyes widen when he sees the side door of a van rip open. He makes quick silent eye contact with Ross for the first time in five years, adrenaline running through his viens.

Bruce dashes across the street in front of the van and back into the alleys as fast as he possibly can. He glances over his shoulder, body colliding with the bully from work. He panics when he sees his face;

"You've got to be kidding me."

The man takes a swing, causing Banner to duck. His attacker tumbles over his shoulder when he makes his move, giving Bruce time to run before they chase after him.

Bruce heads through the empty bottling plant, pinning his back against the wall to breath and calm his racing heart. His mind is racing, tormented with memories of Ross and an overwhelming need to escape everything and everyone. He reacts to the noises around him, mistaking them for bullets and darts. He mumbles to himself, reading his monitor before he starts his breathing techniques out of pure desperation;

"Come on. Enough already."

The leader of the 'mob' from work makes his way back towards the physicist, shoving him against the wall when he tries to move. He can hear the armed officers trailing behind him, feeling trapped with no escape;

"Listen to me please! Don't do this!"

They laugh at him, two other men pinning him against the wall to stop him from moving. He struggles to pull away, crying out in a bit of pain while they interrogate. His chest heaves frantically, memories of past abuse giving him more agitation than anything else when he tries to plead slowly;

"Por favor...me, zangado...muito ruim...You don't want me to get angry."

He snickers, ready to punch him, "Me zangado muito ruim."

Bruce panics, eyes spotting the armed officers while they aim their pistols;

"Please you don't understand! Something really bad is about to happen here!"

He scoffs, throwing a wicked punch into his gut until he's doubled over, throwing him to the floor when his monitor goes off. Bruce cringes, in too much emotional and physical pain to think about control anymore. He gasps when he feels his head start to throb, body start to tinge with that familiar ring. It's as if this time he can feel his eyes dilate to a green color, growling when his muscles take over. It hurts, but it's too late to stop it. His voice changes, muscles contracting and expanding at a rapid pace until he's completely gone.

Revengefully he goes after his Portuguese antagonist, causing an uncomfortable silence on when everything goes quiet seemingly out of nowhere. Roaring loud enough to scare the rest of the crew and the soldiers who came to tranquillize him.

Blonsky fearlessly makes his move, firing to unintentionally cause more harm than good. He's mortified when the large green thing makes his move, desperate for an escape. The hulk snatches up machinery to make a hole in the wall beside him, making a run for it.

Ross is screaming from his comfortably location, beyond pissed off when he realizes his victim's escaped.

. . . . . . . . . .

The general glares at Blonsky when he interogates, walking through the army base now that they're back home. He skims through old papers, looking at his assistant when she chimes in;

"He's tight this one. No names, all authors names deleted. He was using a radmoizer to tap different wireless networks every time he went online. We can't even trace where his email went or where it came from. We'll have the Agency people down here keep their radar up."

He growls, angry over a picture he found while he was searching through Banner's stuff. Blonsky noisily chimes in, spotting the cut out of Betty;

"His girlfriend?"

Ross folds it at least three times before answering his 'employee';

"They closed that door a long time ago. He's alone. He wants to be."

He nods, "Tell me more about this...character."

The General sighs, lighting a cigar before he decides he's ready;

"Banner was brilliant, one in a generation...but his heart gets in the way. He's a scientist Blonsky, not like us. He built me a bomb, too busy worrying over some teenager on the test grounds to just go ahead with it. Got hit with an overload of radiation, went rabbit on me."

"And you want to nail him."

"I want to take that boy apart. I'm going to cut him open, that man's whole body is property of the U.S. Army as far as I'm concerned and I won't be happy until I get what I want."

He tilts his head, "If you plan on going in against that thing, you're going to need someone special to go in against that thing. Someone who knows how to fight it."

He lifts an eyebrow, gears turning;

"Would you be willing?"

He nods with a smile;

"You don't have to ask me twice."

. . . . . . . . . . . . .

Bruce shoves his hands into his pockets, worn out from the weeks spent on the run. He flips his hood up when the rain starts to come down. His head feels like it's about to burst, aching over the memories.

He keeps his head low, watching from a distance when he checks his watch at Culver University. He's tired of searching, having hacked into the old army base that hadn't been used in years to search for his data, only to walk out empty-handed. Being there felt almost bittersweet, wishing he could see Miss Ross just one more time.

He smiles to himself, hidden behind a few trees while the students make their way from the class. Betty got what she wanted and he was beyond happy for her.

His heart skips a beat when he sees that pretty dark-haired biologist, making her way down the steps with a friend at her side. Bruce can't help but feel his heart start to pound, remembering tt's the closest he's been to her in five years.

He keeps his distance, smile quick to disappear when he sees her friend reach out to hold her hand, wrapping his arm around her shoulder before opening his umbrella to keep her dry. He presses the side of his head against the tree, watching Betty lay her head over his shoulder with heart aching over the scene. He kicks himself subconsciously, lost over how happy she looks when she's with that man.

He watches them slowly separate, swallowing hard when her friend gives her a wave before walking off. Betty nods as if it wouldn't be long before she sees him again, doing a double take when she glances in Banner's direction. He stammers, pinning himself against the tree, ducking down to avoid any contact with her. Something tells him to make a run for it, heaven forbid she's seen him. He sneaks away, taking a different route through the campus with a goal of heading to the main highway.

There was something familiar about that figure, leaving Betty with an uneasy feeling. Her eyes widen when she finally gets a closer look, determined to convince herself otherwise. She makes a run for the field, heading towards the tree where she thought he had been, whispering under her breath when her heart starts to pound and she comes to a realization;

"Bruce..."

She repeats herself when she starts to run, seeing that same dark figure off in the distant. Betty raises her voice, now that she's starting to run after him;

"Bruce!"

She couldn't care less if she made a fool of herself, broken heart already aching at the possibility of mistaking him for someone else. Her heart drops when he freezes, waiting for the boy to turn around.

Betty throws her hand over her mouth while she pants, standing a few feet away from Bruce Banner. His eyes stay soft, heart pounding when he's finally able to look at her.

She's real, not just some picture. Betty Ross is standing in front of him...

He swallows hard, and though the rain has already drenched the two of them, she could've sworn there were tears in his eyes. She holds her breath, ready to faint from the adrenaline running through her veins. Betty can help but run towards him, just wanting to know he was real.

He takes a slow step forward before running to meet her halfway, eager to scoop her into his arms when they finally meet. He holds her close, letting her tighten her own grip around his shoulders. And for the first time, he almost craves her contact;

"Bruce! Oh my..."

She runs her open palms over his cheeks while he holds her wrists. He can't speak, keeping eye contact with her for the entire time. She shakes her head, shocked to see him;

"Come with Bruce. Please."

She repeats herself when he doesn't answer, worried over the look in his eyes;

"Please, come home with me."

He sighs, pulling her close in another embrace. His eyes close when she runs her fingers through his damp curls, picking up on the way he's breathing changes when she holds him close.

-God she missed him!

She separates, shaking her head when she looks into his expressive brown eyes;

"Will you come? Please?"

He sighs, jumping to pull away from her when he sees her friend running up behind;

"Betty! Betty are you alright?"

She nods, frantically;

"Yes, yes I'm fine."

Samson wraps his arm around her shoulder, holding his umbrella over her head when she points to the physicist;

"Oh, this is...this is Bruce. You know, you remember, Bruce. Bruce Banner."

He smiles politely, analyzing his soaked form. He holds out his hand in an attempt to be polite;

"Leonard, Leonard Samson."

Bruce flinches, misinterpreting the contact. Samson raises a questioning eyebrow before Bruce complies out of obligation. Being the psychiatrist he is, he can't help but offer his two cents when he's quick to conclude Banner's naturally distrustful;

"It's alright, I'm not going to hurt you."

Betty reaches out to take up his hand;

"Bruce your hands are freezing."

Leonard nods, "We should get out of the rain before someone gets sick. Why don't you come home with us Bruce?"

She nods, "Please. I want to talk to you..."

Bruce shakes his head when he scoffs, damp lock over his eye;

"I want to..but it's not safe."

"I don't care. Please Bruce. You can't just disappear again...I couldn't take it."

His head lowers, tugging gently to free his hand and shove it into his pocket;

"I can't make things any more difficult for you. I couldn't bear that."

"I want to you to come with me. He does too."

Samson nods, "I think you should. Stay the night, we can always talk about it in the morning if you're still unsure."

He nods, grateful for the offer he's not so sure about;

"Alright."

. . . . . . . . . . . .

Betty smirks, comfortable in Samson's place with her hair dry while Leonard busies himself in the kitchen. She tugs at her fingers, having caught up on his most recent endeavors with 'Mr. Blue' and the possibility of a cure;

"And now?"

Bruce sighs, leaning his elbows on his knees;

"I go find him, I suppose. I don't know if he's really got something and it's a much longer shot without the data but I've got to risk it..."

She smirks as she stands up and heads for a bookshelf, "No you don't."

His eyes widen when she comes back with a small microchip, handing it to her shocked friend;

"I got in there before they, blew the computer systems. It's everything you and I took down about your DNA, when you came into my lab with Rick Jones."

He smirks, "I remember."

She nods, "I kept it, hoping it would tell us something someday."

Bruce bites at his cheek, running a hand through his thick hair;

"Does the General know you have this?"

Betty shakes her head;

"No. I made sure of it."

He scoffs, holding his head in a bit of a haze. She smirks, leaning forward ever so slightly;

"What?"

He shakes his head;

"No...I just don't understand..."

"My father?"

He swallows dryly;

"He was there in Brazil. When they came for me...I saw him."

Her eyes widen, restraining herself from taking up his hands and holding him in her arms;

"Oh my...Bruce I'm so sorry...How?"

He shakes his head, "I've twisted it round every possible way."

"Oh Bruce. This isn't fair. Have you..."

"Sorry Betty, Bruce; I just finished making dinner if you're hungry."

She nods, "Thank you Leonard. Can we leave the lights off? Work by candlelight? I'm worried about someone seeing Bruce...I can't risk that."

He nods before she finishes;

"Absolutely."

Bruce smirks ever so slightly;

"You're going out of your way for me..."

"No Bruce, you're my friend. I just want to keep you safe."

His eyes shift down when they make eye contact;

-And God he missed her!

Chapter Text

Ross crosses his arms after handing Blonsky a stack of papers;

"You still game?"

He smirks, "To be a guinea pig?"

"Something like that. Across the hall they're trying to arm you better, we'll try to make you better."

He nods, repeating the General, "I'm game."

"We're giving you a ver low dose only. I need you sharp out there, disciplined. First sign of any side effect and we stop and you're off the team until you straighten out. Agreed?"

He nods a second time, committed to the endeavor;

"You have my word."

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Betty smiles when she hands Bruce an extra set of clothes;

"Here, from Leonard. I wasn't sure how much you were able to pack."

He nods politely, standing in the guest room they offered to him;

"Thanks."

She brushes a stray hair behind her ear, "Do you need anything?"

"No, no. I should go early tomorrow. If I can borrow cash from you, I'll take the bus. I wouldn't ask if I didn't need, I really only have, 10 worth of Brazilian- Which, isn't even $5 in America."

"Of course. I'll drive you out to the station."

He nods, head lowering when he pays attention to how close she is. And in all honestly, he feels like crying. Betty lays a comforting hand over his arm;

"Get some rest."

The physicist nods one more time, gnawing at his cheek after trying to suppress the lump in his throat;

"Thank you so much Betty. For everything."

She smiles, hesitating to leave him. His eyes tell her more than he shares verbally. Betty can see he's exhausted, confused...lonely. She bites her lips to avoid shedding any tears now that her eyes have started to fill. She eventually turns, gripping her elbow with her head lowering.

Miss Ross makes a direct run for the bathroom. She throws her back against the door once it's closed, throwing her open palms over her face when she inhales a shuddering breath. Her chest hurts when the tears come rolling down her cheeks, stomach churning when she finally let's go. She works hard to muffle her weeping, determined to stay as quiet as possible.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Bruce lays on his back, eyes vacantly staring upwards with his feet planted on the mattress. Sleep isn't an option with the way his mind is racing, recalling that sweet moment spent with Betty in her apartment. Remembering how gentle she was when she held him close, when she played with his hand, when she let him kiss her soft and tender skin.

When his eyes close, it's as if he can hear a growl from the back of his mind. He cringes, tormented by the way that thing fights inside of him on a constant basis. The look on Ross' face has haunted him since Brazil, hearing his voice from years ago telling him how worthless he was...

Or was that his father? Did it matter?

Bruce sits up abruptly, finally aware of his hot flashes. All of a sudden he feels cold again, curling up to lay his forehead over his knees. He tries to breathe steadily, jumping when he hears a thump from the living room.

He's cautious when he slips from the bed, quietly making his way inside. His eyes soften when he sees Leonard and he's finally able to breathe again.

He tugs at the back of his neck, figuring Samson was having a similar problem as far as sleep was concerned;

"Hey."

The psychiatrist jumps badly, head whipping around to look over his shoulder;

"Good Lord, you scared me."

He sighs, "I'm sorry."

Samson just smiles, nodding towards the chair opposite where he's made a 'bed' for himself;

"Come sit...I thought it might be easier for all of us if I just slept out here...Want some wine? I'm having a lot."

He just smirks when Samson starts to laugh, politely shaking his head 'no';

"No thanks."

Leonard shrugs, "Well, if you change you're mind just tell me."

Bruce tugs at his hair, elbows rested on his knees;

"You've been incredibly generous. I'm very sorry to have...dropped in like this."

He smirks, glass hovering by his mouth, "I think I read a Raymond Carver story about a situation like this once. There was a lesson in it but...don't ask me what is was. So much for the insights of literature."

Bruce just nods, trying to look up out of politeness no matter how badly he wants to hide;

"Whatever you're inclined to think, I didn't come back to America to see Betty..."

"Then why did you come?"

He sighs uncomfortably;

"I uh, have a problem...I thought part of the solution might be here."

Leonard lowers his eyebrows, still trying to figure him out;

"Cryptic. But I'll take it at face value. I'll confess something to you if you'll clear up some things for me...First, I confess, as a man...as Betty's lover...that I have always hoped you were dead. Not because I didn't like you, well, what I heard about you, but because I love Betty. I've known that unless you were really gone, or she believed you were, that there would always be three of us, you know what I mean? And, I've dreaded the thought of you walking through the door. But now that you're here...I have to admit, I'm very happy about it."

Bruce holds his head with a friendly smirk, letting him continue his confessions;

"I guess maybe because I'm a psychiatrist, I'm very committed to putting light into dark corners so to speak. I'm very good at finding my way into places people hide their secrets. I do it primarily because I think it helps them but also, quite frankly, because I'm interested in what people have to hide. Betty has a very dark corner that I have never found my way into. The only thing I know about her dark place is that you are in it. I'm just wondering if you'll be honest enough to tell me why you're something she refuses to talk about?"

Banner readjusts himself in the chair, seemingly restless over the topic. Samson was gentle with his prodding and questions, calm enough to make Bruce feel a little better about opening up to him;

"There are...aspects of my personality that I can't control. And I hurt Betty...in ways I will never forgive myself for."

He shakes his head;

"You don't drop your career and fall of the face of the earth for five years because you've got an anger management issue, Bruce. You see a therapist."

Banner huffs out a laugh, "It's a little more complicated than that. I've been alone for long time now. I have to be. The toughest part of it is that I worry about what I've done to Betty. If she's happy and you're a part of that, then that makes me very happy. Honestly. The last thing I want to do is cause any trouble for her...or for you. I'd kill myself before I'd hurt her again."

Samson can't help but chuckle;

"Totally honest and yet you avoid something. Exactly like her."

. . . . . . . . . . . .

Bruce had gotten out of the car to walk with her on the campus grounds on their way to the station. Betty had to pick up some tests from her students, taking the opportunity to show her friend her classroom. He loved how excited she got when she pranced around the room, showing him just about every little detail.

She chuckles as they take their time on the walking paths, taking in the serene atmosphere. She walks closer to him when she sees his head lower;

"What is it Bruce? You can tell me."

He shrugs, thick lock over his eye;

"What was I thinking? Where did I go wrong?"

She pauses in her walk, urging him to do the same with a gentle hand rested on his arm;

"No Bruce, you've turned this on yourself too hard. Nobody ever thought something like this was possible...I'm just glad you're...still here."

He shakes his head, "I'm not so sure..."

Betty shakes her head, running a hand through his thick curls;

"Don't talk like that. Accidents happen, and sometimes they're beyond our control."

His eyes close, mumbling under his breath. It's as if he can see her injured frame laying in the hospital bed, still as clear as if it were yesterday;

"I hurt you Betty..."

She sighs, tilting her head, "That wasn't your intention. I was in the wrong place at the wrong time."

His eyes flick upwards, spotting a sniper just beyond the far edge of a building. His face tenses, grabbing Betty almost instantly;

"They're here."

Her eyes widen, determined to stay beside him;

"Bruce-"

He cuts her off frantically;

"Look at me- listen to me Betty-get as far away from me as you possibly can-"

"Bruce wait-"

"Don't argue with me just go. Go!"

He breaks away from her and runs. He takes off in a full sprint, moving right to left along the buildings, trying to outdistanced the soldiers before they get a lead on him.

Betty feels her heart drop instantly, mouth wide, sick over the amount of soldiers coming into view and sweeping across the grounds and heading in Bruce's direction. She looks around frantically, spotting four Humvees jumping off the road and heading in the same way along the opposite perimeter of the campus. Her eyes widen over the large strangely shaped cannons, guns and flamethrowers.

Soldiers dash after him on foot, forcing Bruce to hide in the building complex. Blonsky's leading the group for the most part, sprinting with the intent of closing in on him from the side.

Banner ducks inside a building when he closes the door behind him. He's panting for air when he kneels at the bottom of the stairs His eyes close, fumbling through his small backpack to search for the data card, desperate at this point. He knows if he's being hunted, Ross is behind it. Bruce stays determined to keep his alter ego from the General, heaven forbid he should try to use it as a weapon to his own advantage.

Banner cringes with a hint of disgust, holding the card in front of him. He shuts his eyes, shoving the into the back of his throat. His face subconsciously wrinkles up when he forces it down, coughing and gagging through it all. He forces his throat to open, using a few techniques from medical school to chug down an item he can't afford to lose.

He breaks for a moment, eyes tearing from the burning down his throat before he bolts in the opposite direction.

Betty runs behind him, trailing behind the familiar army trucks and weaponry. Her eyes are wide and desperate when he recognizes a familiar vehicle. Ross takes a step in it's path almost fearlessly, screaming at the top of her voice;

"Stop!"

She pants when it obeys her orders, proving her suspicions to be accurate;

"I know you're in there!"

She has tears in her eyes, refusing to move in her defensive stance;

"General please!"

Betty holds her head, bending over so that her voice will carry. She screams until her voice starts to crack;

"Dad!"

General Ross grits his teeth before throwing the door of his vehicle open to jump out. Two soldiers emerge to cover him, standing facing each other.

Betty runs to her father, voice softer when she pleads;

"Dad please don't do this...He needs help."

He narrows his focus, grabbing her arm to drag her despite her resistance;

"You can't see this clearly now get inside."

They panic when they hear a voice, glancing over their shoulders to see the glass enclosed pedestrian overpass at least four stories up.

"Target is in the overpass."

Ross narrows his focus when he sees Bruce run across, whipping around to go back where he came from before he realizes he's trapped. The General raises his voice;

"Do not engage! Repeat: Do NOT engage! Put canisters in that tube, one on either side."

Betty's eyes widen when she sees him duck, trapped like a defenseless animal while the overpass starts to fill with the chemicals. She breathes heavy, when he takes off his button down to cover his nose and mouth, still searching for an escape.

"Bruce!"

She breaks from the van and starts running across the field towards the tube. Ross gives a command to the soldiers who have already started to sprint after her;

"Get her back here!"

. . .

Bruce panics, eyes wide when he spots Betty running across the grass. She throws her elbow into one of the soldiers to defend herself, screaming when she's tackled by the other. Banner's eyes go wide when his head starts to throb. Control slips from his grip when he feels overpowered by his intense emotions. His face twists with that familiar agony associated with every transformation, roaring in pain loud enough for Betty to hear him from so far away. His skin slowly changes, muscles expanding at a rapid pace before the Hulk frees himself.

His large figure lands on the open field, ready to fight. He cringes when Ross gives his command, causing the guns to start firing in his direction. He goes for the vehicles, smashing and throwing them from his way no matter who or what is inside.

Blonsky shakes his head when the 'monster' manages to destroy the helicopters, half the cannons and guns, ready to run forward with a better idea;

"Cover me!"

He makes his move towards the hulk, able to dodge what's thrown at him before he gives Ross a message over the intercom, believing he's made progress with the giant;

"Hit him. Hit him now."

Abnormal cannons shoot their intense sound waves, forcing the hulk to his knees. His hands fly to his head due to his over-amped sense. To him, the world is distorted, growling weakly for it to stop.

Betty drops her jaw open when her father is ready to issue another command, no matter how much they've already gone to attack him;

"No! Dad you'll kill him! Stop!"

The soldiers hold her back, restraining her from running over to him no matter how much she tugs back. Her eyes stay focused on her friend, ears to intent on his noises to even hear Samson yell from a distance, horrified at the scene he's just been introduced to. She screams, tears ready to stream down her cheeks;

"Bruce!"

Leanard eyes widen when he hears the name, following her gaze back to the hulk. He covers his mouth in pure shock, too far away to make a move and free her;

"Jimminy crickets..."

The hulk feeds off of Betty's energy and hearing her muffled cry is enough to get him going again. He forces himself to stand straighter, struggling for minutes before he regains enough balance to destroy on of the cannons. With his renewed zeal, the other two are easier to demolish.

Ross panics, "Pull back! Blonsky, pull back!"

The haughty soldier makes his move, directing his comments to the hulk;

"What? Is that all you've got?"

The giant cringes with disgust, kicking Blonsky with enough force to knock him out. Ross's team scrambles back across the road, hustling to get away from the hulk. The General gasps when he sees his daughter, slowly making her way towards the green thing. His eyes widen, shocked by the scene.

She stands inches from his seemingly calmed nature, reaching up a hand to touch his arm;

"Bruce...?"

His eyes soften, exposing a more gentle side of the creature no one else has managed to find. When she looks in his dilated eyes, she can see him. She knows he's there.

Ross screams when he sees cannons ready to fire in their direction, but his orders are given too late. Surrounding Betty and the Hulk with a brutal explosion. She fearless presses into his body for protection, paying little attention to the way he holds her close to him, keeping Betty out of the line of fire as best he can. She hears him moan and growl, feeling his body twitch as he takes the hits for her.

Samson yells from the distance, seeing the inferno that probably killed her. The General feels his eyes go wide when he sees the Hulk stand up to emerge from the flames, eyes low while he cradles and shelters an unconscious Betty. He snarls at Ross, hearing noises surround his weary frame.

They jump when he runs, past the soldiers and wreckage with Betty in his arms until he disappears off into the distance.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Ross gives Samson a look, picking up on his tension;

"If it's any consolation, you did the right thing calling to tell us where they were. You're doubting it now because it went bad but your instincts were right. You see who is now...what he is."

He glares at the General, regretting his decision;

"No I don't actually. He wasn't what I thought he'd be at all. It was strange to me that she would ever say what happened between them...it was this wasn't it? Something you're a part of."

Ross just cuts him off, "I need to know where they're going. She'll be in incredible danger as long as she's with him."

He scoffs, "From who? He protected her. You almost killed her."

"I give you my word that her safety is my main concern at this point. Bruce's as well. I want to help him."

"You know it's a point of professional pride with me that I can always tell when somebody is lying. He wasn't...but you are. I don't know where he was going and even if I did, I wouldn't share it with you. All I know is Betty will help him if she can and I can't hold that against her."

"Then she'll be aiding a fugitive and I won't be able to help either of them."

Leonard grits his teeth when Ross storms away;

"I used to wonder why she never talked about you. Now I know."

The General mumbles under his breath as he climbs into his van;

"How does she get involved with these guys?"

. . . . . . . . . . .

Betty can't help but scream when her eyes open, face to face with the giant green hulk. She startles him, causing him to jump and hit his head over the roof of the cave they've found themselves in;

"Oh no...I'm so sorry. I'm...Bruce?"

She stands up slowly, still slightly disoriented when she comes towards him. She sees a gash over his shoulder, tenderly calling out to him;

"Bruce? Can you understand me? Are you hurt?"

The hulk turns away from her in the storm, roaring over the lightning that surrounds them. He reacts defensively, urging her to stay back with his open hand. She takes a step forward;

"It's okay...we're okay. It's just the rain."

His noises soften, almost purring when she touches his hand, leading him back under the protection of the cave;

"Here, come here. It's okay...watch your head."

He complies, eyes fixed on hers when he sits next to her. She wraps her arms around herself, breathing softly when she sees him starting to calm down, comfortable with her beside him.

. . . . . . . . .

Ross keeps his arms crossed, hovering over Blonsky's injured body as he sits in the hospital bed;

"Will he walk again?"

The doctor shrugs;

"Most of the bones in his body are crushed to gravel. If he lives, he'll be lucky if he can lift the straw to eat his liquid meals."

Ross shakes his head, mumbling swears under his breath directed for that dark-haired physicist who stumbled into his life. His eyes flick upwards when the doctor continues;

"I will say this, he's got the heart of a machine. Never seen anything like it outside of a race horse."

. . . . . . . . . .

Betty flinches when she feels the warmth of human contact, jumping when her eyes finally open. Her fingers trail over the side of his bare torso where she'd fallen asleep over him, shocked to see her friend back in his typical form.

She tries to sit up straighter, hovering over his body when she hears him starting to move from under her. He covers her mouth when he winces, pushing up to his elbows with his head bowed low;

"Bruce?"

She lays a hand over his bare shoulder when she sees him trembling, running her fingers through the side of his thick hair in an attempt to soothe him;

"Shh, it's okay. We're okay. What do you need?"

He can't find his voice, visibly shaken when he sits up straighter with a hand over his abdomen;

"Betty...Is...that Betty."

She lays a gentle hand over his shoulder, "I'm here."

He sighs, head bowing low;

"Whe- are...we?"

She smiles;

"In a cave, but I'm pretty sure I can get us back...providing my Blackberry didn't get too burnt."

He nods, slowly turning his body around to face her;

"Wha- what-"

Betty lays a finger over his lips when she sees him struggling to talk;

"It's alright, we're safe. I promise. Are you alright?"

He glances at her in a haze with his eyes extremely vague when he mumbles, still breathing heavy;

"Ugh...Betty...I might throw up."

"Oh Bruce...,' she runs her fingers over his rapidly healing scars, 'do they hurt?"

"Not...really."

She shrugs off her coat to wrap it around his shoulders, standing up to help him to his feet;

"Here, lean on me. I've got you."

Chapter Text

Bruce stands in front of the bathroom sink with the towel over his waist, grateful for Betty's sharp sense of direction and suggestion they find a motel. She had run out only moments ago to pick up clothes for him using whatever cash she managed to carry on her.

Banner runs his hand through his damp hair, regretting when he looks into that steamed up mirror. Every little thing seems to have a hint of green, colorful enough to make him sick. He clenches a fist when he feels that monster growling inside. He can practically see the reflection of the green giant in the square frame when he 'hears' him snarl. Bruce shuts his eyes in an attempt to 'turn off' his active imagination, jumping when the memories of the General's attack replay in his mind.

He's doubled over the sink when he takes a shuddering breath, trembling with his eyes shut tight.

. . . . .

Betty shrugs the bags off her shoulder when she comes back into the room, folding her change to fit back into her wallet. Her eyes shift up when she hears his rough coughing;

"Bruce? You okay?"

She can't help but cringe, taking a step towards the bathroom freezing when she hears him throw up. Betty stands near the door ready to walk in until she thinks better of it. She figures he most likely would have prefered to be left alone for the time being.

Betty Ross lingers close enough just in case he needed her, wanted so badly to walk in there and rub his back for him. Her eyes shift upward when she hears a pause, trying to call out to him a second time;

"Bruce?"

She tilts her head when the door cracks open, seeing his eyes slightly glossed over with a toothbrush shoved in his mouth;

"Oh, hi."

"Are you alright?"

He nods, messy curls above his eyes, "Yeah, I feel a lot better actually,' he holds up the computer chip, 'I had to get my data back."

Her eyebrows lower, his statement finally starting to sink in;

"You swallowed it?"

He shrugs, "Well, you know. The circumstances called for a little improvisation."

Betty's eyes widen before digging through one of her shopping bags;

"Wow...okay so, first things first."

Bruce drops his tooth brush and data card into the sink before catching the heart monitor Betty tosses in his direction. He smirks when he sees it, shaking his head over an item only he would be forced to wear everyday of his life;

"Thanks Betty."

She digs through the bag, tossing a pair of jeans at him next before holding up purple sweatpants. He tilts his head sarcastically, content with the jeans he initially caught;

"You're kidding..."

She smirks, "What? They were the stretchiest pair they had."

"I'll take my chances."

Betty throws a hand on her hip, shaking her head when he slips back into the bathroom no doubt to throw on his pants. She digs through the bag, tossing the empty plastic into a pile. Betty takes a simple hair clip from her collection, whipping her hair up into a high bun. Double checking the air conditioner before standing up to talk with her friend. She makes her way towards the bathroom when she hears the sink running. He glances at her reflection in the mirror when he sees she's standing behind him, drying his mouth with the towel in his grip.

Betty catches him staring through the mirror, just as innocent as the day she met that physicist. She shakes her head, running her fingers over the back of his head;

"I don't know how you've managed it alone all this time."

He smirks sarcastically, lock fallen just above his eye;

"With clippers, usually."

She can't resist any longer, wrapping her arms around his torso. He rests a hand over her wrist, head bowed low when he feels her cheek against his bare back. Bruce shuts his eyes when he feels her lips against his skin;

"Penny for your thoughts."

He rolls his eyes, unable to hold his tongue any more;

"How long have you known Leonard?"

She sighs pulling away gently hoping he'd turn around, knowing he was bound to ask;

"Years. We only started well, getting know each other about a year ago."

Bruce turns around to face her, leaning against the sink while he makes eye contact with her;

"You trust him?"

She nods, feeling guilty, "Yes, but Bruce you know I-"

He shakes his head sympathetically, honest when he takes up her hand;

"You don't have to explain anything to me. Ever. He seems like a good man and he treats you well and...that makes me happy."

Her head lowers, eyes fixed on the gentle way he holds her hand;

"Bruce, I never gave up on you. You don't know how hard it was to read the paper- I couldn't accept it. You don't know how often I thought about you. How badly I wanted things to go back to the way they were before..."

He sighs, subconsciously lowering his forehead against hers with his eyes closed. Betty whispers, rubbing her thumb over his fingers;

"What's it like...when it happens? What do you experience?"

He scoffs almost coldly;

"It feels like someone is pouring a liter of acid into my brain...the sound is the worst, probably next to the throbbing and loss of control."

"Do you remember anything?"

"Fragments. Nothing I can derive anything from."

"But then it's still you...inside it."

He stays stern, heart beating a little faster;

"It's not me."

"In the cave, I felt that you knew...that it knew me. Maybe your mind is in there it's just...overcharged...can't process what's happening. You know Leonard works with people on 'conscious dreaming', helping them direct themselves out of their nightmares even though the conscious brain seems asleep...maybe-"

"-I don't want to control it! I want to get rid of it. It kills people. It almost killed you Betty. And you know I wouldn't do any of those things."

"Of course not."

His head lowers, completely anguished. She manages to free one of her hands, laying it gently over his cheek. Her fingertips run over the light scar under his eye, given to him minutes before the overload of radiation. Her voice stays soft;

"You need to know that I thought about you every day since we parted. I still love you Bruce."

His eyes stay soft when he reestablishes eye contact, finding it hard to believe the words that slip from her mouth. There's a lump in his throat when he leans forward, tugging on her sweet lips with his own. His heart rate picks up instantly, melting over affection he's been deprived of for years. He feels like crying when she tugs back, wrapping her hand around his head to pull him closer. He reaches a hand to her neck, craving the warmth from her tender embrace whether or not he should. Betty throws her arms around him, laying her head on his shoulder. He buries his face in the crook of her neck, rubbing her upper back with his hand when he whispers;

"I missed you Betty. There were days I felt like I couldn't last another minute without seeing your pretty face or just hear you talk about some bizarre fact. You've...been the only person in my life whose never hurt me. You are always on my mind Betty, I love you."

Her eyes close, hardly aware of the silent tear that slips from the corner. She plants a soft kiss on his cheek, fingertips reaching up to play with his rebellious curls, before she goes back for his mouth.

Bruce just wanted time to stop with them so close to each other, wanting nothing more than to just hold onto her forever. Betty feels him tug back, wrapping a hand around her head to keep her steady. She takes a step back, laying her hands over his bare shoulders when they start to move back into the other room.

Miss Ross loosens her grip, not wanting to come on too strong for her fragile friend. She pushes back before she's willing to give him more control when she remembers how he generally dislikes too much contact. Betty slips a hand onto his wrist, shocked when his gentle hands touch the sides of her face in between kisses.

Her heart is pounding at the thought of him running on his own, stuck hiding in cities she didn't even know existed. And Bruce didn't deserve to be treated that way. He was too sweet, too gentle to be hunted like a criminal. Betty knew he'd been through enough even before they first met, wishing he could just catch a break from the hell that always seemed to surround that tender physicist.

Betty's eyes are closed when they their bodies slowly lower over the mattress. She keeps a hand on his cheek to steady the kisses while he holds himself on top of her. Banner presses his hands underneath them for support, too wrapped up in the moment to think about control.

Their hips meet each other in a gentle motion, so caught up in their passion to pay attention to his heart monitor. Her hands lay over the sides of his face when he moves a second time, feeling that intense pooling in his gut he's only felt once before. Bruce can barely pay attention to his own feelings when he looks at Betty, realizing just how much he needed that pretty biologist in his life. She was his bright spot; in his mind, the only reason he had for living with those dark memories of his past and current hell he could never break free from.

Bruce lays a hand over her thigh when she wraps it over his waist, wanting to get a little closer to her lover. He grinds into her between kisses, practically begging for a little love she knows he needs. Betty hugs him close when she hears his breathing change, running her hand through his hair when she hears him make a noise relating to a little discomfort. She removes a hand from him so as not to overwhelm him with too much touching.

He lays his wrist on the pillow above them while he kisses her neck, hearing the monitor slowly picking up speed. He moans, breathing heavier when he finally looks at the flashing numbers. Bruce buries his face in her neck, agonizing a little when he hears it beeping a little louder. He hugs her close while grinding a little softer in an attempt to slow it down. He can feel her arms snake around his lower back, kissing him one more time before he frantically goes to remove her hand from off of him;

"Wait! Wait..."

She groans when he lifts his chest from off of her, pinning her hand to the pillow to keep it off his warm skin. She's panting when she whispers;

"What?"

"We can't do this."

Betty nods when she sees the pain in his eyes, wanting nothing more than to just wrap him back up into her arms;

"It's okay I want to-"

"No...no,' he pushes up onto his hands, panting when she lays a hand on his cheek, 'I can't."

He takes her hand off his cheek, holding onto her wrist when she lays it over her abdomen. Her eyes are wide, searching his body language for some sort of explanation. His head lowers, lock fallen just above his eye;

"I can't get...too excited."

Her eyes meet his after she hears the monitor stop with it's pesky beeping;

"Not even a little excited?"

Bruce studies her face, wanting to lay back down and just prove his love to her. He releases an exasperated sigh, frustrated with himself and that thing inside him. He's eyes close when he buries his face in her shoulder, ready to burst into tears.

She tenderly lifts her hand over his back when she sees his anguish, gently rubbing over those sore muscles;

"It's okay..."

He whispers while he trembles, still nuzzled in her shoulder;

"I'm sorry...I'm so sorry."

"Bruce, it's okay."

He mumbles, too worried his cheeks are reddened from the hidden tears to look back at her;

"I tried to tell you Betty, how much I cared...I wrote you letters-"

She nods, biting her lips while she rubs the back of his neck;

"I got them."

~. *. * . * . * . * . *~. *. * . * . * . * . *~. *. * . * . * . * . *~

"Sir, it's Blonsky."

General Ross makes his way through the facility, shocked when he sees his soldier up and ready for another battle;

"Nice to see you back on your feet soldier."

He smirks, "Thank you Sir."

He crosses his arms, "How do you feel?"

Blonsky narrows his focus, thinking about the same person Ross is;

"Pissed off and ready for round three."

Ross turns around, seeing half his assembled crew in the lobby when he makes his way back out to talk to them. His assistant hands him a file;

"Federal is already monitoring phone, plastic, and Dr. Ross's web accounts, and local PD's have been put on alert. They'll pop up somewhere and when they do it comes straight to us."

The General growls, voice expressing his clear agitation;

"They won't just 'pop up.' He make it five years and got across borders without making a mistake and he won't use a damn credit card now. If he was trying to escape he'd be long gone...he's looking for help and that's how we're going to get him. We don't know where they're going but we know what they're after and we knows he's been talking to somebody. You've all got copies of that correspondence to this...'Mr. Blue'. There are only a few hundred people in the world who have what he needs so figure out who they are. He's going to one of them."

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Betty just watches while he sorts through her stuff, hugging her knees into her chest when he shakes his head over her electronics;

"Basically, we can't use any of this. Cause they can track all of it. Don't even turn the phone on, that's a dead giveaway."

She smirks almost sarcastically, pointing to the small cylinder;

"My lipstick? Can they track that?"

He's too nervous to pay attention to her sarcasm, handing her back the $70 and small camera;

"Here, you can these. And your makeup."

She shakes her head;

"This 'Mr. Blue'? From New York?...We can't get there on 70 bucks."

Bruce sighs, "It's possible but...not quickly enough."

Betty tugs at the small chain around her throat, freeing it from around her neck before handing it to him. He knows what she's thinking eyes wide when he refuses to take it;

"No! It's the only thing you have left of her...No Betty."

She shrugs, tender smile over her face, "It's okay, we'll get it back."

. . . . . . . . . .

Bruce lays a hand on Betty's shoulder when she walks outside the pawn shop with a bundle of cash in her fist;

"You emailed him your data?"

He nods coming out of the gas station with a set of keys in his hand;

"Using that guys account. I paid him a $20, is that enough?"

She smirks with a head shake, "You didn't owe him anything."

He lifts his eyebrows, glancing over his shoulder cautiously as they make their way up to the battered old pick up truck;

"He's helping a wanted man, I figure I owed the guy something. And what do I owe you Miss Ross?"

She smirks, brushing a stay hair behind her ear;

"Nothing. I volunteered."

Betty lays a head on his shoulder when she gets to the car, taking the keys from him;

"If we're heading into New York traffic, I think I should drive...,' her head lowers, 'Bruce, it's been worse than this before right?"

He nods without a second thought, tugging on his button down;

"Much worse."

. . .

It's hours before his eyes flicker open, sitting in the passenger seat and beyond disoriented. Betty takes a hand from off the wheel and lays it over his;

"I thought I should let you sleep."

He mumbles, glancing out the window when he realizes they're stuck in heavy traffic;

"Where are we?"

She smirks, "Getting close."

He looks around, opening the door to stand up and look out over the honking horns and crowded streets. His eyes glance up at the toll booth a long way ahead, spotting uniformed officers standing at the toll gates looking at faces.

He ducks down to call for Betty;

"We've got to go."

"Go where?"

"We've got to get out, come on."

Her eyes widen, clearly unfamiliar with the life on the run;

"Right here? Now?"

"Yes, come on."

She panics a little, climbing out to meet him;

"This is crazy."

"I've got you Betty, it's alright." He reaches out to grab her hand, leading her through the honking cars and bumper to bumper traffic and disappear off into the distance.

They make their way through the streets, finally reaching the Hudson River. Betty makes her way up to an older man with a motor boat, paying him off to give them a quick ride across the body of water into New York City.

The couple eventually find themselves on the sidewalk. She flips through her papers, double checking the map in front of them;

"Long way uptown. Subway's the quickest."

He lifts his eyebrows, sarcastic smirk on his face;

"Me? In a tight metal tube underground with hundreds of other people in the most aggressive city in the world?"

She nods, biting her upper lip;

"Let's get a cab."

. . . .

By the time their aggressive driver makes a turn on two wheels, Betty's regretting her suggestion, holding Banner's hand when she hears his pulse monitor beeping as loud as his heavy breathing. Her eyes widen;

"Breathe! Breathe!"

Bruce and Betty find themselves falling forward when he slams on the brakes. The dark-haired physicist can't utter a word, climbing out of the taxi as fast as he possibly can. He's pacing the sidewalk in an attempt to calm down when Betty climbs out behind him.

She screams through the passenger window at their 'driver from hell';

"Are you out of your mind!? Don't you give a shit about the living breathing people in the back of your office on wheels-"

He smiles in an attempt to flirt with her, "What's the matter baby? You no like a good ride?"

Betty lifts her foot into the rear panel as he takes off, startled by the tone in her voice when she screams even louder;

"Asshole!"

Bruce gives her a look, gentle voice making an attempt to calm her down;

"Betty?"

She whips her head around, eyes still as wide as soccer balls. He smirks;

"You know, I can show you a few techniques that can help you manage that anger-"

Ross softens her voice to a normal level, never cross when she talks to him but still clearly frustrated over the cab driver who could've made him transform;

"You zip it. We're walking."

. . . . . . . . .

The Generals assistant glares at her computer, grinding her teeth when she searches desperately; her last resort. Her eyes widen when she sees the name on the screen;

'JR Sterns Cellular Biology.'

The links take her to Columbia University, leaving her running down the hall. She bursts into the General's office, voice sharp when she tells him;

"They're going to New York!"

Ross puffs from his cigar, eyes wide over the news.

. . . . . . . . .

Betty boldly takes a step forward when they reach the lobby of the science building, recognizing Professor Sterns;

"Excuse me, Dr. Sterns?"

A clearly overworked scientist smiles politely looking for the girl who called his name;

"Yes dear?"

She nods, keeping Bruce right behind her;

"I'm sorry to bother you. I'm Elizabeth Ross."

His eyes widen, offering a friendly handshake;

"Dr. Ross! My goodness...I read your wonderful paper on synthesizing nucleotides! To what do I owe the..."

She smiles, resting a hand on Bruce's shoulder;

"Actually, there's someone I'd like to introduce you to..."

Banner smirks, "Mr. Blue?"

Sterns widens his eyes, big smile over his face;

"Mr. Green!? Oh no, we've got to move this one into my office. Come, follow me."

Betty walks along side him as they make their way through his cluttered laboratory. He's rambling quickly, too excited to process his thoughts and talk at the same time;

"This is...this is amazing. It took some work let me tell you, we've never tried to concentrate the trimethodine a tenth of what you peak exposure correlates with. That you survived an event like that to stand here and discuss this...it has something to do with Dr. Ross's protein primer capaciting the cells of course, but it's beyond my reckoning...we could study it for years."

Betty shifts her focus onto him, slightly concerned, "But, you think you've got the concentration right?"

"Well yes...on paper anyway. And my cell saturation will make sure we don't miss any spots...but...even if we hit the levels right, I can't promise this will cure you. It might only be an antidote to suppress specific flare ups. When you have one of those, um, 'spikes'...is the experience extreme?"

Bruce stays diplomatic, "You could say that."

Sterns crosses his arms, studying Banner's frame;

"You know, I wondered what it would look like...a person with that much power lurking in him. Nothing could have surprised me more than this...young man shaking my hand. I uh- I do have to tell you something about these concentrations? They carry extraordinary levels of toxicity. If we're over by even a small integer, the residual could kill you."

Banner seems less than concerned, almost hoping it will take his life and end the misery. Betty's eyes widen, more afraid than either of them. She'd love to slap him for his next comment, clutching her cheek as if to say, 'that's what he's worried about?'

"Sterns, there's a flip side to that...if we miss on the low side, if it fails, it will be very dangerous for you."

"I've always been more curious than cautious Mr. Green. So...we're all agreed?"

Betty glances at Bruce who looks back at her. There are tears in her eyes when she nods, knowing this is what he wants; Freedom... no matter what the cost.

. . . . . . . . . . .

"Banner is the target. Snipers have the point. Delta in backup. If we make it before they move we'll have two tries. If we can't take him inside, we'll try for a shot as he exits. Under no circumstances is banner to be engaged directly. If we can't get a shot we fall back and let him go."

Blonsky makes a face;

"Not much of a rematch."

She narrows her focus;

"1.5 million people within a five mile radius. You want to fight that thing here?"

She gives Ross a look, nodding towards Blonsky whose been acting stranger and stranger since his second dose of chemicals;

"You sure about your boy?"

The General nods, "I need a dog that can hunt. If we do this correctly, I'll never have to let him off the leash."

. . . . . . . . . . .

Betty hates the look of the table Sterns is trying to urge Bruce to lay on, disturbingly looking like a set-up for a lethal injection. Even though he's more nervous than she is, familiar with the little set-up from a battle with someone who attempted to pry him open, he takes a deep breath and follows instructions.

Betty leans over him when he unbottons his shirt and hands it to her;

"Think of all the money I'll save on wardrobe if this works."

She chimes in quickly, tempted to run a hand through his thick hair;

"Yeah but money can't bring you back if it doesn't."

His eyes soften, watching her tearfully shift her focus when she hugs his shirt against her chest. He sighs, eyes wide when he pleads;

"Promise me you won't stay and try to help me if this starts to go bad."

"Oh Bruce..."

"Promise me you'll run or I don't do this."

She nods half-heartedly, feeling his gentle hand over her cheek;

"Promise me Betty."

Ross jumps a little when Sterns shoves an I.V in each of his arms, strapping her friend to the cold table. He looks so vulnerable to her, leaving her stomach in knots. She tries to stay supportive, watching his vitals no matter what else is on the screen. Unlike Banner, keeping him alive is the only thing she cares about, hulk or no hulk.

Sterns has his antidote ready, hovering over him to shoot Bruce with a ton of electricity. He barely gives him a chance to analyze the situation before plowing ahead. Banner's eyes dilate instantly, unable to breathe through the pain while every muscle in his body starts straining against the straps. His whole body spasms, green starts in his eyes, muscles expanding at a rapid pace when he cries out in pain. Every bone and muscle in his body is begging for mercy. Every memory of his father's cruel abuse replays in his mind as his body changes.

Betty covers her mouth, never seeing a transformation for herself. Sterns gasps in awe;

"My God!"

Betty watches the man she loves, writhing on the table, tortured in front of her while he howls in agony.

The table starts to buckle underneath when he growls, cringes in his large green frame after freeing himself from some of the restraints. Betty jumps onto the table over him in a panic, resting her hands on his chest, searching for those expressive eyes;

"Bruce! Bruce stay with me!"

Sterns bites his lip, worried his antidote won't kick in soon;

"Dr. Ross..."

She stays focused on her lover, watching him slowly and painfully starting to revert back. Betty would like to think the chemicals are working, though she's starting to realize it's her calm and loving nature that seems to get him to change.

Betty runs her finger down the lock just above his eye, leaning over him when his eyes finally open. She knows he's still afraid, drenched in sweat with worry written all over his face;

"It's alright. You're alright. It's over."

He smirks, looking into those pretty eyes of hers. He's too exhausted from the experience to pay attention to the way she's straddled over his hips, hovering over his torso. It's as if he's home again, feeling safe whenever he's close to the girl he loves so much;

"Betty..."

She smiles back, tenderly kissing his forehead.

Chapter Text

"...So the pulse came from the amygdala. I think Dr. Ross' primer lets the cells absorb the energy temporarily and then it abates. That's why you didn't die of radiation sickness years ago.I think the chemicals can suppress the even when used properly. I mean you! It's like you've got a turbo booster in your brain! It's fantastic! It's one of the most wonderful things I've ever encountered!"

Betty lowers her head, watching her friend pace around the lab, eyes wide while he takes in everything;

"It's not 'wonderful' for Bruce."

Sterns waves his hand;

"In a scientific sense of course."

She just shakes her head, eyes focused on the physicist. It's been years since he's been in a real lab, eyes acting like a sponge while he analyzes every little object he finds. Betty loves him for his ambition and for his ability to keep his head on fairly straight even with all he's been forced to experience. She can't help but wonder what this genius would accomplish if he had a stable environment and a certain cellular biologist to act as his personal 'cheerleader'. She knew he lacked and needed affection, someone to keep him from always second guessing himself; Someone to hold him through those moments and to just be a real friend.

Betty knew he must've felt so lonely in Columbia, Mexico, and wherever else he found temporary escape. He was like a solitary flower who couldn't find the right conditions to take root and blossom, constantly blown around and trampled on. But Bruce seemed to expect the trampling at this point, accepting his tortured soul as being perfectly normal.

Ross tilts her head, too busy in her own mind to listen to Stern's rambling. Eyes finally becoming more alert when Bruce turns around to address the other scientist with his own eyes fixed on some odd experiment;

"What is this? Oh my...What have you been doing?"

Sterns leaps at an oppertunity;

"Oh! That! I had to concentrate the blood sample you sent so that I could grow more. You didn't give me enough of yourself to work with. Those are just some of my experiments. I guess I made you my little flower..."

Betty sees the look of pure horror spread over her friend's face, the way his mouth drops open when he sees the mutated animals bearly slightly larger forms and a musty gray tinge.

Sterns points to his loose bottle;

"A lot of first pass didn't survive of course but as you can see we're doing much better. And we're only giving them very low-dose Gamma so no power-lifters yet but the interesting thing..."

Bruce runs a hand through his hair, fingers numb when he feels like shooting himself in the head. His head hurts at the thought of being replicated, thinking about the damage that could be done;

"You've got to destroy it."

"Excuse me?"

"All of it. Right now. Show me your supply."

"You've got to be kidding. Number 1, it's not life-altering to test it once or twice. Number 2, think about the good that can be accomplished-"

"-You don't know what you're dealing with!"

"Think of the applications! With a little more time, we can control it."

"It doesn't matter! I'm looking to get rid of it not channel it, let alone recreate and duplicate it! Please!"

"Why?"

Betty widens her stare;

"He went under cover to contact you looking for help! He doesn't need anymore trouble."

Sterns crosses his arms when he eyes Banner, "So you're still running?"

Bruce pleads with his eyes wide;

"I can't let them have it. If they get it they'll make it a weapon, make it fight for them. That's all the General ever cared about was a weapon to put him on top no matter who gets hurt in the process."

Betty widens her stare when she makes the connection. Sterns scoffs;

"Okay, look I hate the government too but you're being a little paranoid don't you th-"

Betty shrills covering her ears when the window breaks behind them, feeling his protective arms instinctively push her out of harms way. Betty reopens her eyes after a brief second, seeing her friend visibly dizzy and extremely vague. She searches over his frame, watching him lean a hand on the table for support. It doesn't take her long to realize he's taken a hit for her while she looks over his body. Her hands quickly find a dart shot in the back of his neck, abruptly removing it from her weakened physicist.

Betty goes to catch him when his knees start to give out, abruptly losing his balance and falling into her arms. Her eyes are wide when she tries not to scream, slowly coming to the floor so she can look at him. He holds her arms for support while she touches his cheek begging for a reply;

"Bruce! Bruce talk to me!"

Stern's screams in a bit of a panic, standing as far away from them as possible. His eyes widen when he sees Banner's eyes starting to dilate;

"Dr. Ross! I'd back up!"

Betty hears his monitor beeping faster, hearing him mumble a weak warning for her to 'run'. She refuses to leave him alone, jumping up when she sees Blonsky explode through the door with his rifle raised towards the couple. She stands in front of her friend almost fearlessly, ready to defend her lover. Blonsky shoves her from his way, throwing her at least five feet before she hits the ground, crying out in pain.

Bruce hears her cry, clenching his teeth now that he's completely livid. His vision stays hazy, struggling to focus on his enemy. Blonsky grinds his teeth, eyes fixed on Banner's when he screams;

"Come on! Come on! Where is it?!"

Banner refuses to reply hearing the other soldier storm through the lab door with his voice raised;

"Blonsky!"

Bruce narrows his focus startled when he feels the back of a gun pound viciously into the back of his head, hard enough to knock him out completely.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

"I've never seen anyone come out of a tranq like that. Why the hell aren't we keeping him under?"

The General keeps his arms crossed, watching a groggy physicist forced to make his way into an army vehicle with an excessive amount of guards at his side. His wrists are cuffed almost uncomfortably, shackles set with electro-magnetic locks with Betty hovering close behind.

Ross just shakes his head at his assistant;

"You want to be the one to stick a needle in his arm that he doesn't want?' he nods towards his daughter, 'She's our best insurance. Keep her right next to him...He knows if he pops off it's her that gets hurt."

She nods, "And what do you want to do with Sterns?"

"I want him pinned to that lab with you. get every bottle, every box and every machine in that place. If Banner won't cooperate maybe he will."

She nods a second time, heading towards the building. The General sighs, taking a step towards his daughter. He lays a hand on her arm to stop her, voice neither tense nor soft;

"Betty-"

She tugs viciously from him, eyes wide with her voice forceful;

"I will never forgive you for what you've done to Bruce! And to me."

"He's a fugitive. He made choices and I have a responsibility..."

"You made him a fugitive! Thinking that would cover over your own mistakes. You keep hunting to him down so you can use him for your own interests, turn him into a weapon. That's the only reason you kept him around from the start isn't it?"

"He was working for me. Therefore his mind, his work, his blood, every cell of his body belongs to me! He's the property of the United States Army and I'm going to do whatever I damn well please with that spineless milksop because he belongs to me! Whether you like it or not!"

She shakes her head, "And what happens after you're done cutting him open? After he's no longer useful to you? You'll kick him to the curb like everyone else you never wanted?"

"There will be nothing left to kick by the time I'm done with him. Whatever's left is getting locked up and studied for the rest of his miserable life."

"You treat him as if he were an animal!"

"He is."

"How can you be so blind!"

"You're taking sides with the criminal."

She shakes her head, "I'm helping my friend because he's a good man."

"You still can't see this clearly. You let your heart rule over your reasoning ability."

"I let justice rule over my heart! He's just as human as you are! I know who he really is because I've spent time with him-!"

"-Even after I told you not to."

"Don't do this to him...!"

He snaps, "He's a murderer Betty. And it's only because you're my daughter that you're not in handcuffs too!"

She shakes her head in disbelief, tears in her eyes when he goes to grab her a second time. She pulls away;

"Don't ever speak to me as your daughter again!"

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

"...Then it's not the same."

"Not exactly. But it could be better. What happened to him was a freak accident. We've sorted out some of the pieces but I don't think I could put together the same Humpty Dumpty just yet. You follow?"

She holds her head, frustrated with Stern's scientific mentality;

"I don't want to know if you can make another one, I want to know if Banner's the only serious threat to-"

Sterns jumps back, watching the soldier in front of him slumped over with Blonsky behind her. He smirks, proud of his manuever when he hit the back of her head.

The professor shakes his head;

"Jeez! What is it with you hitting people all the time?' he jumps, seeing a pistol aimed in his direction, 'Okay, what could I have possibly done to deserve such aggression?"

"It's not what you've done, it's what you're going to do."

"Well, I like your use of future tense in that sentence anyway."

"I want what you got out of Banner!"

He smirks;

"Oh, well in that case you've got it! Before you knocked the lady out I told her I'll help in any way."

"I want it, all of it, in me."

His eyes narrows slightly, focused on his larger muscles and odd demeanor, "You look like you've got a little something extra in you already. You're not at all worried about the combination?...Okay okay! You can put down the gun...I'm not unwilling! I just need informed consent...and...you've given it."

. . . . . . . . . .

Betty felt bad for him, dragged from the van to an aircraft, quietly seated directly across from her. He looked defeated, worn out, and a little anxious. Bruce had no idea what to expect from Ross once he caught up with him, but he knew it wouldn't be anything good.

His eyes, head and upper body stay low, as if he were mentally beating himself up for something. She knew he was hurting, eager to sit up straighter when she lays her foot over his. Betty loses her smirk when he doesn't return it, leaning forward to take his hands into hers. Bruce flicks his eyes up towards hers for a brief moment before refocusing back at the floor. He closes his eyes, planting a gentle kiss her slender fingers.

She jumps after hearing a crash, explosions off her father's intercom when he tries to reconnect with his crew;

"Hello? This is Ross do you copy? Major? Blonsky do you copy!"

'Hulk's on the street! Repeat hulk is on the street!'

The General rolls his eyes, muttering under his breath before he responds;

"Give me live feed."

His eyes widen when he sees the street, pedestrians caught in the middle of explosions and a large grayish giant. The thorns on his hunched back look like nothing he's ever seen.

Bruce jumps up to get a look for himself with Betty behind him. He rolls his eyes when a soldier catches his arm;

"Sit down!"

Banner just shakes his head over the gun aimed in his direction;

"Shoot me...let's see what happens."

Betty walks forward when Bruce shoves passed up and up next to Ross at the monitors. Betty covers her mouth when she sees the pedestrians fleeing in a panic, cars skidding and trying to turn around. The vicious creature has no problem ripping a light pole of the corner, swatting the cops aside like mosquitos.

'Sir? Are you seeing this!? What the hell is that? Is that Banner?'

He growls, "I have Banner! Where's Blonsky?"

'No one's seen him Sir!'

"Hit that thing with whatever you've got, try to draw it after you and get it to the river. We've got cutters on both sides of the island with sonic!"

'General, NYPD wants to know what to use against it, SAC has that A-10 in the air and ready...what do you want me to tell them?...Sir?'

Ross holds his hand over his mouth with nothing but frustration mumbling under his breath;

"I've created a monster."

Betty widens her eyes;

"The sound waves stopped Bruce at the campus-"

"-They need an open field to fire, there's too much down there to absorb them."

Bruce shakes his head, "You can't stop it, you have to kill it."

Ross gives him a sarcastic stare as if to say 'I've been trying for five years';

"And what do you propose, a bomb? We see how well that worked out the last time now didn't we?!"

The physicist stays focused on the problem, ignoring the General's cutting remarks. The lock falls over his eyebrow, wrists still tugging in their restraint;

"You have to take me back there."

Betty shakes her head, hand over his shoulder;

"Bruce no..."

He tilts his head when he sees the look in her eyes;

"It's the only thing that can stop it. I'm the only thing that can stop it."

Ross crosses his arms, voice sharp;

"Forget it, if I put you down there you won't fight, you'll run!"

"I've got to try something. Betty! I think you're right it's still me, or at least a part of me. When we were in that lab and I was on the table, I heard you Betty I heard you calling me."

She brushes his cheek;

"You knew it was me?"

"At the moment I don't know what I was feeling but I heard your voice."

Her lower lips quivers, "You think you can control it?"

"No, but I think I can aim it."

Ross shakes his head, "What if you just double my problem?"

Bruce shifts his focus towards the arrogant General;

"You've got a better idea?"

He thinks for a moment, shutting his eyes when he finally gives in, ordering the people under his command;

"Put us near it-"

Bruce lifts his cuffed hands, "No...open the door."

He stares blankly before the physicist starts pleading;

"Do it!"

Ross nods, waiting for the soldier to hit the button and open the rear ramp;

"And get those cuffs off him."

Bruce waits at the open door, spotting the city 3000 feet below. Betty grips on his arm whether he likes contact or not;

"Oh my god, no...Bruce please. What are you doing?! This is insane! You don't even know if you'll change!"

He turns back towards her, taking her hands into his;

"Betty I've got to try."

She shakes her head ready to cry when he presses his mouth over hers. Betty slowly feels his fingers slip from her grip, eyes wide while she watches in horror as he falls from the aircraft. She holds her head, screaming with regret when the tears stream down her cheek.

Ross glues his focus to his camera;

"Where'd he land?"

Betty holds her heart, dizzy from her emotional turmoil.

'Sir we've got a green one-'

He snaps, "I know! That's Banner! Just make sure he does what he supposed to do! Keep an eye on him and make sure he doesn't pull a fast one on us!"

Betty pins her back against the wall, hands over her face when she feels the tears starting to flow freely.

. . . . . . . . . . . . .

With his head pounding and his muscles expanding, Bruce couldn't remember his final memory or muttered swear as he hit the ground. The hulk had taken his place, turning to face that large abomination standing in the middle of the street.

The abomination turns, eyes flaring with recognition when he sees his green-skinned enemy heading in his direction. They brawl through the street, pounding each other viciously. The grayish one uses his bones in his defense, shredding the flesh off the hulk's knuckles when he staggers to punch himself free.

There's a choke hold, causing the hulk to drop to one knee, eyes closed when he roars in pain. He gets back throwing his enemy against a brick wall with a swift kick. The hulk pins his enemy to the ground, hurling punches until the abomination gets his feet into the hulk's torso, giving enough of a kick to hurl him into the air.

. . . . . . . . . .

"They're a block north of the university...can we get a local chopper with a spot on it?"

Betty keeps a hand over her heart, nervous for Bruce's sake.

Abomination displays no mercy, swinging a 20 foot iron girder in the hulk's direction, enough to knock him from off the building and into the pavement.

The Ross girl shrills at the scene, gripping the chair in front of her out of nerves. The General grips his intercom;

"Fire! Give him all of it!"

"Sir! I can't hold it!"

Ross gives his pilot a look;

"Dammit!"

"I got to put it down!"

Betty closes her eyes, holding the walls for balance when they crash onto the pavement. Her body's thrashed around as they land, searching for an escape through the toppled helicopter. Betty's halfway out before she shrills, hearing and feeling the flames that have surrounded her. She screams the only name that comes to her mind almost instinctively;

"Bruce!"

. . . . . . . . .

The abomination grins devilishly when he pounds his victim into the wall, watching him grit his teeth in agony. Hulk shuts his eyes, listening when he hears that soft voice calling for help. The ex-Blonsky let's his eyes go wide as the hulk seizes his wrists and with raw power spreads abominations hands away from his body. He manages to double abomination before sprinting for Betty.

He sucks in a huge breath when he sees the whoosh of flame, blowing it out before it can reach his precious dark-haired biologist. She stammers to her feet gasping when she sees the hulk take a blow to the side of the head. She ducks down, feeling her father grab her arm as he drags her from the helicopter and onto a safer part of the streets.

Betty shrills with whatever voice she has left, watching the hulk weakened when he comes to one knee. He tries not to flinch, turning back around to give his enemy a swift kick with his good leg. When his enemy hits the ground, the hulk takes advantage. His muscular grip tightens around the Abomination's neck, twisting it grotesquely until his enemy surrenders, kicking the unconscious body from his way.

He roars searching through the onlookers to see if there's another threat. The General stares blankly, waiting for the right moment to make his move. He pauses when he sees Betty take slow steps towards the green giant.

He turns around, eyes softening, he knows her. His eyes shift behind her, eyes flaring at Ross before Betty lifts a gentle hand. Her eyes spot the cuts and tears over his skin whispering consolingly to her friend when she finally reaches him;

"It's okay...it's over...it's over."

His head tilts slightly over her words. His voice is a rumble, barely a whisper when he calls to her;

"Betty."

Her eyes close, lump in her throat when a tear falls down her cheek. He puts out a finger, gently stroking her cheek when he catches her tear.

She feels like crying when she hears the sirens, lights aiming in his direction. He growls, covering his head when he jumps to run off, bolting down the streets to get away from people.

Her head lowers, falling to her knees when she covers her face with her open palms. Crying too hard to even hear her father giving orders to track the giant green hulk.

He sprints west, crosstown, pounding the pavement accelerating when he jumps over buildings, dodging the helicopters and police who follow him until he disappears completely.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Betty stands by a railing, overlooking the river and the New York Harbor. Her mind is racing, seeing his pretty brown eyes and sweet face every time she closes her eyes. She sighs, with her head thrown back when she hears her phone ringing. She answers hesitantly;

"Hello?"

"Oh thank God. Betty is me! It's Leonard. Are you alright?"

She sighs, looking over the water while she recounts a moment spent with that dark-haired physicist;

"I'm not hurt. A lot of people were though."

"I know, it's been all over the t.v. It doesn't seem real."

She looks down at her nails, imagining the gentle way he held her hand;

"It was real."

"Come home Betty. Please. Just come home."

Betty closes her eyes, shoving her free hand in her pocket;

"I have to ask; Did you call somebody the night Bruce was with us? Is that why they came for him?"

"I was frightened. Please, forgive me."

She keeps her eyes closed, swallowing hard before she answers;

"I do...but I'm not coming home yet."

"Betty why- Where are you going?"

"I have no idea. But I'll let you know when I do, I promise."

Her eyes flick up over the river, imagining where he could've possibly ran off to.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Bruce smirked when he looked at the locket in his grip, labeling an anonymous envelope with Elizabeth's name in the middle. He promised he'd get it back for her and it made him happy to know Betty's prized possession would find it's way back to her within a few days.

He sighs after stepping out of his run down bungalow. He pauses to look at the ocean with a small duffel thrown over his shoulder. His fingers rub against the envelope, imagining her pretty-eyed stare and gentle voice. What he would give to just spend one more day with that woman.

Bruce shakes his head over the slim possibility, dropping his package into the mailbox before climbing into a taxi. He pulls a folded paper from his duffel, lock over his eye when the driver asks where he's headed;

"Uh...the local airport please."

"No problem."

"Thanks."

The driver contorts his mouth sympathetically, shifting his eyes in the rearview mirror to look at his passenger;

"It's uh, none of my business, but you look a little down."

Bruce glances upwards before shrugging it off. He huffs out a laugh;

"Confused I guess."

He nods with a smile, "Where you off too?"

"Um...I'm visiting Los Angeles." Bruce looks down trying on a new pair of glasses so he could read one of the local papers. It felt good to see again, struggling with his far-sighted vision for long enough before he could afford a pair of glasses. Admist his reading, he can't help but smile when he sees her name, distant from her for long enough;

'The young daughter of Los Angeles County Sheriff Morris Walters; 'Jennifer Walters' proves big things come in small packages...'

Chapter Text

Bruce hesitates when he enters the building, eyes taking in everything slowly until he comes to the front desk. The woman smiles in between snapping her gum;

"Can I help you?"

He nods, running a hand through his hair. His voice stays low when he smiles nervously;

"Yes, hi. Um...I'm looking for Miss Jennifer Walters?"

She nods, lifting her phone before dialing;

"And you are?"

He sighs, avoiding a name, "Her cousin."

. . . . . . . .

She swings her hair over her left shoulder, skimming through the paper when she smirks devilishly. She sits back in her chair, smirk over her face while she plots and plans. Trask wasn't getting away if she could help it. She swore he was going to be exposed if it was the last thing she did. The girl sighs dramatically when the phone rings, answering reluctantly;

"Yeah hi, it's Jen what do you want?"

"There's a man down here to see you, says he's your cousin."

Her eyes widen, mouth dropping open when her hands go numb. She freezes, breathing changing when the woman repeats herself;

"Hello? Jennifer? You there Miss Walters?"

Her voice cracks, softening when she responds, "Yes. Yes please send him up."

Walters hangs her phone back on the cradle, in a haze when she clasps her hands together. Her eyes stay vague, nervously hoping it was really him and not another ex-lover looking for her attention.

Her heart drops the instant the door opens. She stands up to meet him, watching him express just as much surprise as she has. He looks worn out, completely exhausted as if he's just run a marathon. Jennifer can't help the smile spread over her face when she goes to throw her arms around his neck;

"Bruce!"

He tilts his head when he sees the woman in front of him, a younger version of her mother in every way. He shudders initially, hugging her close when he recovers from the shock trying hard to hold back the tears. He chuckles;

"Look at you Jenn! You're beautiful!"

"Oh my God! Bruce I'm so happy to see you! How long has it been?"

"Too long."

She chuckles after pulling away, tugging at the access fabric on his button-down. She tries to bite her tongue over the lack of luster on his cheeks and his small build. Jennifer runs a hand through her hair,

"Oh my God, why the hell are we standing. Talk to me Doc we've got catching up to do."

He shrugs, nodding towards the posters on her wall while she hops on her desk, feet swinging to a song on the radio;

"You're a big-time criminal lawyer?"

She smirks, "For now. Daddy was so proud."

He smirks, sitting beside her in the extra chair left beside her desk;

"Uncle Morris! How is he?"

"Same old. He hasn't been the same since mommy died."

Bruce lowers his head, "Oh Jenn I'm sorry.-"

She lays a hand over his shoulder;

"Oh, Doc. It's okay. I know you would've been there."

He sighs, taking her hand in his when he sees her getting upset;

"I'm so sorry."

Jennifer sighs lightly, shrugging it off when she feels a lump in her throat;

"I got a cat. Named him Tiger."

Bruce just shakes his head, "You're funny Jennifer."

She shrugs, "What? You thought I forgot?"

"I remember. You still dancing?"

"I'll take a class once in a while. When I'm not working. Last I heard, Aunt Susan's getting married."

"Really?"

Jennifer smirks sarcastically, "Last I heard, unless she's divorced already."

"And what about you Jenn? You married?"

"Ha! You're funny. If Johnny could find a job we might be able to get somewhere,' she reaches over to hand her cousin a photograph, 'What about you? Wife? Girlfriend? You're too cute to still be single buddy...Are you okay? You look like you've seen some action."

He shakes his head over the couple in the picture. Bruce feels her forefinger run across the scar under his left eye, mouth contorted when her eyebrows lower sympathetically;

"What's going on Doc. You can tell me."

"It's, complicated."

"Bruce, you're like my brother. You've got to tell me, please."

He sighs, burying his face in her hand, elbows rested on his knees;

"Frankly Jennifer, I'm...I don't know how to tell you. I'm a wanted man. The police, the army, the goverment...feels like the whole human race."

Her eyes widen;

"...You're kidding...Bruce you wouldn't hurt- You wouldn't- What...what have you done?!"

She leans forward when he hides, tears in his eyes when she prods him for an answer;

"Bruce I need to know!"

He throws his head back, "It's not what I've done, it's what I've become."

"I- I don't understand."

He sighs, "I was working at a base. One thing lead to another and I ended up being submerged in gamma radiation."

Her eyes widen, "How did you survive...?"

"I have no idea. I'll never understand it Jennifer, I swear. Ever since then I get these strange episodes where my mind goes blank and...my head starts throbbing...feels like someone's dumping acid in my brain..."

"And you can't think?"

"I can't think, I can't function...Jenn, prepare yourself for a shock, I'm the hulk."

"The who?"

"Oh for crying out loud Jen! Haven't you read the paper!?"

"No not really. Daddy's got me working two jobs right now. How big is this thing? I- wha- I don't understand it."

"Neither do I. I looked for help, I've been all over the country looking for a cure and instead all I've done is hurt people in the process. Betty tried, this poor biologist whose been with me since day one. I hurt her Jenn...among other people."

"You or what you become?"

"What's the difference? I wish I was dead Jennifer. I wish my father killed me when he had the chance."

"Oh Bruce, please don't talk like that..."

"I just- I can't..."

She feels her heart pounding when he stops, waiting for him to continue. Bruce closes his eyes to take a deep breath, completely overwhelmed with conflicting emotions. Her eyebrows lower, ready to ask another question before she hears another knock on the door;

"Ugh, What?"

"I'm sorry Miss Walters, I'm getting ready to close up."

She rolls her eyes, "Okay, I'll be out in two seconds."

Jennifer feels over his tight muscles, sighing sympathetically when he looks like he's about to cry. She takes his hand, slowly standing up;

"Come with me Bruce, please. We've got a lot more to catch up on."

"I'm so sorry Jennifer, I was so close, I had to see you."

She smirks, brushing his loose tear with her forefinger before picking up her bag;

"I'm glad you did. Come on Doc, let's just put all this, 'stuff' behind us for as long as you're with me okay?"

"Thanks Jenn."

She nudges him with her side before giving him a wink, "Hey, that's what cousins are for."

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

"Hungry? They make great pancakes here."

His fellow agent shakes his head, tugging on his suit while he contorts his mouth uncomfortably. He nods;

"It didn't go well did it?"

"No, it did not."

He remains blank-faced, leaning on the coffee table when he shakes his head;

"Did they reject the initiative-"

"No of course not. But they made the most idiotic, ill-conceived request imaginable; They want Blonsky on the team."

His eyes widen in pure horror, "Abombination."

"They really don't like when you call him that."

"But the Harlem incident!"

His friend shakes his head, eyes narrowed when he sighs sympathetically;

"They're pinning that on Banner."

He huffs out a nervous laugh, "On Banner...? The same kid Fury's been stalking-"

"Not a guy you want to make angry. They're considering Blonsky a war hero. They want him exonerated, released, and then added to the roster."

He shakes his head, "And they think we have him."

The agent keeps a stern face, grinding his teeth, "What's your clearance level."

"Oh come on Coulson-"

"-I'm serious."

He shakes his head, "Level 6, like you...what there's a level 7?"

"Blonsky's in custody in General Ross's sector."

"Does Director Fury even want Blonsky?"

"Of course not but he can't ignore an explicit directive from the World Security Council. So we have to make sure he doesn't have to."

He rolls his eyes, "How the hell are we going to do that."

"I have no idea. But we have to send a liason to the General within 24 hours."

"So on the council's orders we have to send one of our people down to General Ross to ask for Blonsky, who we don't even want."

"Exactly."

he sighs, looking out the window beside him until he comes up with an idea;

"I got it, we send a 'Patsy' to screw it up."

"I'm thinking for this we need a slightly different skill-set. If we want the General to refuse this request, that we need to send someone who will truly annoy him. Someone, arrogant and abrasive, with an utter disdain for authority, someone, who will offend the General to his very core..."

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

"So I let out a rumor that I found secret evidence proving Trask himself, murdered his bodyguard. That oughta shake him up huh cousin?"

Bruce gives her a wide-eyed stare, "You're out of your mind Jennifer. You realize the risk you're taking?"

She scoffs, "Look, I want this guy gone okay? Out of my life."

"But if Trask really is the killer he'll go after you to 'shake you up'."

She chuckles, brown hair swaying while she the her car up her driveway;

"You're still 'Mr. Paranoia'. Haven't changed much have you?"

He sighs when he climbs out of the car, realizing she doesn't take him seriously;

"Jen I'm not kidding. Trask sounds like he's merciless and you're way to unprotected to be letting a rumor like that."

She smirks, humming to herself while she climbs out of the car, "Sorry Doc, what'd you say?"

Walters hears screeching tires behind her, followed by a loud shot a painful piercing in her lower back. She falls forward, vision swarming in front of her when she hears him scream for her;

"Jenn!"

She tries to reply, conciousness slowly slipping when she feels his gentle hands catch her from falling onto the pavement;

"Oh..."

"Jennifer talk to me, look at me. Stay with me Jen."

Her eyes close tight, moaning under her he cradles her frame. She winces, blood pouring from her injury while she clutches her torso.

He breathes heavy, feeling tension building in the back of his head. He pushes the throbbing aside, frantically looking for ways to help her. He grits his teeth, catching a quick glimpse of the vehicle zipping off into the distance before stealing her cell phone with a free hand to call for the police. He swears under his breath when it takes more than a minute, assessing her skin tone and lack of energy. He clutches her wound to try to stop the bleeding, recalling the doctor's office she drove by only moments earlier.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

He can't help but ask for another, puffing his cigar while he sits in the bar. His eyes narrow, hearing an irritating voice step in from behind him;

"Mm, the smell of beer, and defeat. You know I hate to say I told you so General, but I've always felt my hardware was much more reliable."

The older man scoffs, noticing the sophisticated businessman in a suit while he stands beside him. Ross puffs his cigar, eager to look him in the eye;

"Stark."

"General."

"You always wear such nice suits."

He nods almost sarcastically, facial expression never changing;

"Touche. I hear you have an unusual problem."

"You should talk." He lifts his eyebrows scornfully.

Tony Stark smirks at his comment, with his hands shoved into his pockets;

"You should listen."

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Bruce feels his cheeks burning, lock over his eye when he situated his cousin on a table. Frantically moving to fix her wound without her losing any more blood. He checks her pressure after dressing her wound, tugging at his hair when he sees her blood count dropped dangerously low.

His fingers tremble when he searches through her wallet, finding her licence to make sure her blood type matches his own.

His vision swarms when he recalls his medical training, gently pricking her arm before rolling up his sleeves to stick his own, much more careless with his own flesh and battered veins. He keeps her steady, slowly seeing the color come back into her face;

"Hang on, please. I can't lose you."

He shuts his eyes when he hears the police sirens swarming from outside, cringing when he runs a hand through his hair. Bruce removes the equipment from her, quickly feeling a more normal pulse in her wrist. He sighs before kissing her forehead, when he realizes she'll be alright. He tenderly brushes the stray hair from her face when he whispers;

"You'll be alright Jenn. Hang in there you little firecracker."

He double checks through the cracks of the blinds to ensure his escape is possible before jumping through the opened window.

. . . . . . . . . . .

She moans, eyes slowly peeling open when she calls for him;

"Bruce-"

Jennifer cringes, feeling a nurse lay a hand over her shoulder;

"It's alright Miss Walters, just take it easy."

She whines, rolling her eyes when she feels a tingling over her skin;

"What happened..."

The nurse shrugs, "You were already taken care of when we came in. Looks like your um, 'Bruce' friend gave you an emergency transfusion."

She smirks, "My cousin? Wow. He did learn something in medical school."

The caretaker smiles, "Well, I'll be back later Jennifer. Just take it easy for now."

"Thanks."

Walters crosses her arms, contorting her mouth when she feels a pounding in the back of her head. She sighs, eyes closing when she realizes he's run off. And why should she be surprised? He said the police were after him. Jennifer shakes her head over the ordeal. She couldn't help but pity her cousin, wanting so badly to help him in any way she could. And God if she could've told him he was right, thanked him for saving her life even if it meant risking getting caught. Now Jennifer knew she owed him.

Jennifer lowers her eyebrows when she sees three taller men walk into her room, crossing her arms sarcastically when they call to her;

"Time for your medicine Miss Walters."

"Ha! The nurse said nothing about three giants giving me drugs."

Her eyes shift suspiciously, seeing one man toy with bottle;

"You and your big mouth."

"Watch her, she's a kicker."

She panics, struggling to pull away when the other two grab at her arms to hold her down. She screams, feeling an intense throbbing in the back of her head when she wiggles to break free, getting a brief whiff of the chloroform loaded cloth. Her eyes sharpen, blurring her vision when she fixes her mind on revenge and escape.

She growls, smiling when she feels some sort of liberation. Her eyes dilate quick, muscles contracting before expanding at a rapid pace. She towers over them, barely aware of her green-toned skinned when she threatens them;

"Try it now buddy!"

The cower, hiding in the corner when they see her size;

"Oh my God! She's some kind of She-Hulk!"

"Don't touch her!"

She roars, taking a forceful swing to knock them unconscious.

. . . . . . . . .

"Miss Walters! Miss Walters are you alright?!"

Her eyes slowly peel open, wrestling with her blankets when she looks down to see her torn sleeves;

"Lord help me..."

"Miss Walters? What happened?"

Her eyes stay wide, studying the back of her hands;

"Uh...I- I..." She swallows hard, recalling his words;

'Feels like someone's pouring acid on my brain...loss of control...'

"You poor dear. That female savage didn't hurt you did she?"

"Uh...no, not at all."

"Must've been terrifying Miss Walters."

Jennifer nods, almost in a haze, "Oh, yes. Terrifying..."

She sighs, tugging her blankets up a little higher;

"Well you just rest now. Everything will be alright."

Jennifer nods, eyebrows low when she contemplates a possibility;

-Blood transfusion! I've become a gamma-ray monster like poor Doc!

She holds her head, eyes closed when she feels sleep ready to take over her form.

. . . . . . . . . .

Bruce keeps his head bowed low, handing a small boy a quarter to read the paper;

"Thanks."

He sighs, pulling the page away from his face to read it clearer. He scoffs, fumbling to pull out his glasses from his pocket. He smirks when he sees her name;

'The doctor says Miss Walters will recover...'

"Dr. Banner."

Bruce lifts his eyes upwards, eyes peaking over his lenses when he sees two gentleman in black suits and sun glasses heading his way;

"Agent Sitwell, member of SHIELD."

He holds up his credentials the physicist is no more impressed with then the pistols in their pockets. He retorts quickly;

"Can I help you."

"Director Fury said to drop his name. Sound familiar?"

Bruce shakes his head 'no', biting his cheek before he makes the connection. His brown eyes go wide, taking a slow step back to prove his distrust. He breathes heavier, when he sees the one man lay a hand on his weapon.

"We've got a strange request of you Doc-"

His eyes sift suspiciously, lock over his eye when he hears another voice from behind him;

"Freeze! Glen Talbot New Mexico Army Base.' he smirks devilishly, 'Remember me?"

He dives forward automatically, abandoning everything in his hands before running through the agents to escape from the soldiers behind him. His feet take in a hurry, ducking when he hears gun shots fly over his head. Pedestrians scream when the helicopters fly over. Banner swings himself up over the fire escapes, setting into a rhythm when he glances behind him, seeing the peculiar agents seemingly taking his side, firing at the soldiers from the base.

His body collides with a young man, scrambling to pull away until he sees his face;

"Rick! What-"

The Jones boy tips his baseball cap;

"Hey Doc. Follow me, I'll explain later."

Bruce sighs, desperately following the boy up and down the alley ways to lose the officers. Rick makes a wrong turn, feeling a hand on his shoulder when Bruce pushes him down to avoid a gun shot. Jones smirks;

"Well you've gotten good at this. I didn't even hear the shot."

"All these years on the run? I hope I've learned a thing or two...Look out Rick!"

Teh boy rolls on his shoulder when Bruce forces his attacker to fall over his own shoulder, grabbing Jones' wrist before bolting off in the other direction.

"Rick you've got to get away from me."

Jones sighs dramatically, "Just let me get you out of the fight okay?! It's my fault you're in this mess!"

"Rick-"

Jones grabs his friend, whistling for his older friend outside a car;

"Ricky old buddy..."

Jones pushes Banner towards him;

"No time, just get this guy out of here okay?"

"Okay."

"Rick I-"

Jones winks, "Hey, Doc, don't mention it. I'll see you 'round. Stay out of trouble."

. . . . . . .

Banner offers to pay the guy when he's a safe distance away, watching the smoke seemingly clear from 5 blocks over;

"No worries bro, this was for Rick."

"Well, thank you."

He waves, driving off while Bruce continues running. His heart rate spikes when he feels a firm grip on his shoulder and a sudden pinch in his neck. He struggles to pull away, feeling suphocated when he hears a voice, one he hasn't heard since the night his father died;

"Don't panic Banner, I'm not going to hurt you. Just cooperate."

His vision swarms and his hands go numb, weakingly tugging to break free from the man with a black uniform and an eye patch.

Chapter Text

Chapter 46

Bruce could feel his head aching when his eyes peel open, laying horizontally over a nice warm bed. His eyes reclose to savor that warm comforting feeling he has felt in years, but only for a moment. Distrust was flowing through every cell of his being when he pushes himself up in search of his one-eyed abductor. Bruce doesn't have to look far, seeing the director make his way through the large automatic doors at the end of his temporary room;

"Morning Dr. Banner. Did you sleep well?"

He couldn't remember. For the first time in a long while he fell completely out, without a dream, nightmare, or any recollection of falling asleep in the first place. He shrugs, sitting upright when he swings his legs off the edge of his bed;

"I guess so. Where am I?"

The man answers him quickly; "One of SHIELD's headquarters."

"Why?"

He smirks softly, already treading lighter with Banner then anyone else currently in the building. He leaves a plastic cup over on the table beside his bed, next to a small plate of leftovers;

"I suppose it's hard to thank me when you're still in 'escape' mode. Are you hungry?"

Banner sighs, eyes shifting towards food when he feels his stomach tighten, still suspicious of the man in front of him;

"Alright Sir, what do want from me?"

"Excuse me?"

"What do you want from me?"

The man nods, taking a seat in a chair to look at the doctor; "Do you know who I am?"

Banner scoffs almost coldly with a blank expression of his face;

"Someone who shows up when I'm in sticky situations."

He smirks, "Nick Fury. Director of Strategic, Homeland Intervention, Enforcement, and Logistics Division."

"You expect me to remember that?"

"S.H.I.E.L.D, Dr. Banner. An espionage and law-enforcement agency."

His brown orbs glance up at him, still just as suspicious; "Right. And how do you know who I am and why do you keep following me everywhere? This isn't a draft right? Cause I don't do 'espionage'. Kind of a wanted man right now."

Nick reaches into his pocket to pull out two pills, handing them to the doctor with the small plastic cup; "Here, for your head."

He rolls his eyes after knocking back the drugs; "Magician too?"

"Dr. Banner, you have, a unique ability that could be used for the good if you channel it correctly."

Banner rolls his tongue over his cheek, head lowering when he scoffs coldly;

"Unique ability'. It's a curse Fury, it does more harm then anything else."

He smirks, "Well this 'curse' fell onto the right person"

"Yeah, I probably did something to deserve it." Fury narrows his focus;

"You're not listening."

"No, I hear you. Still just wondering why I'm here."

He articulates his words, maintaining eye contact with the doctor; "If this was to fall onto anybody, at least you are responsible enough to want to control it."

"Well I'm not very successful. I- well. He, has already killed a few hundred people...or are you unaware of that minor detail?"

"Oh I'm aware."

"And you want to defend me?"

"It's more then just the 'hulk' Banner, it's your mind. I've been following you since before the gamma bomb and I must say, you can be an incredible asset."

"I'm not interested in joining your Strategic, Homeland whatever. I'd be perfectly content living underground, alone, without anyone to destroy or without someone running after me...I want to be left alone Fury."

The director shakes his head; "You don't want to be left alone, you convince yourself that your too dangerous for anything else. You'd have a team-"

"I don't suggest putting anyone under 10 feet within a two mile radius of me. Just in case I explode."

Fury shuts his eyes, slowly losing patience with the sarcastic physicist; "Banner, please! I'm trying to reason with you as a common curtesy. I could just call Ross and throw you under the bus but I'm not interested in turning you in."

"You just want to exploit me? Like everyone else I've encountered."

"Banner, I don't want to lock you up. Don't you get that I'm trying to keep you out of a cell?! Off of an operation table? Ross wants to dissect you, clone you, and use you."

He swallows dryly, ready to tremble just over his words;

"I know, so does everyone else."

Fury sits up straighter in his chair; "What are you thinking about?"

"Nothing."

"Why don't you trust me?"

He scoffs, "Trust doesn't come natural for me. Now if you'll excuse me, I'm sort of on the run."

Nick reaches out to grab his arm, illiciting a jump from the doctor when he tries to pull away completely startled over the contact. Fury lowers his eyebrows, letting him take a step back;

"Dr. Banner I'm not interested in hurting you."

"Then what do you want! You follow me everywhere and I don't know why! You try to draft me into your 'espionage' whatevers, when I'm already running from the government!"

Fury stands up in front of him; "You need to calm down."

"Why, you think I'm a threat?"

"Will you take it easy and let me help you?"

"I don't want your help-"

"Dr. Banner-"

Fury reaches for his arm when he calls to him, loosening immdiately when the physicist jumps for the second time in a matter of minutes, quickly lowering his hand over his pistol should the need arise. Bruce misinterprets his stance, dodging underneath the eiry 'director' who he doesn't trust the slightest. Fury groans when his 'captive' heads through the halls, skillfully manuevering his way out of the building.

Nick holds his hand over an agent's shoulder to stop him from shooting;

"Coulson don't. Just let him go."

The smaller man glances up at him; "Sir?"

"Track him, make sure he stays out of trouble. And keep your distance."

"Yes Sir."

 . . . . . . . . . . .

He knew he hulked-out somewhere inbetween Fury's lecture and his run through an unfamiliar part of California. Bruce growls when he comes to his knees, head still throbbing over his latest explosian. He runs a hand through his rebellious curls, looking up to see a river in front of him. He had no idea where he was, clinging to the top of his torn pants when he starts to get his bearings, still trying to figure out where to run next. Banner tugs over his fabric, running a finger over the waistband. He smirks, remembering his clever idea to sew a $20 in his clothes for this sort of an emergency.

. . . . . . . . . . . . .

He mumbles under his breath, doubled over the sink in a public restroom. He gags, cringing when he realizes he's gotten himself so worked up. He rubs the side of his face, lock hung over his eye when a hispanic gentlemen washes his hands in the opposite sink; "There's a doctor up the road if your ill."

He glances up at him, leaning in the wall beside him for balance; "Excuse me?"

The gentlemen shakes his head, making eye contact with the younger man, taking into account his baggy sweatshirt and jeans. The man tilts his head sympathetically, pitying the dark-haired physicist when he coughs up into the sink. He covers his mouth when he feels a strong need to just curl up and sleep for days. The spanish man hands him papertowels, lingering as if he had nothing better to do;

"You're sick, no? There's a doctor about one mile from here. Very cheap."

Bruce mumbles, practically desperate for some sort of relief, even if it was just his nerves getting the best of him; "What's his name?"

"She. What's 'her' name. My wife sees her all the time. Dr. Lipscombe. "

He nods half-heartedly, eyes widening when the name finally registers. He regains his balance still mumbling when the memories come running back;

"Angela?!" "Si. Young Senorita, but very good."

He moans over the memory, feeling a knot in his stomach for a number of reasons when he leans back into the wall to keep himself upright.

The man nudges him gently; "Come. I'll drive you."

"No, that's okay. I appreciate it but-"

He's cut off when he starts to gag again, rolling his eyes in complete frustration. The man tilts his head, urging him to follow; "Come. I'll take you."