Bruce huff-laughed into Tony's shoulder, soothed in a way that he was fairly sure could have easily moved him from Hulk to himself in any other situation. The lullaby was useful, but so was this. Feeling real and solid and cared about, for some reason. "You're the best security blanket," he murmured, and right then, it felt that way. Most of the time, Bruce wouldn't care for a public display either, but it'd been too much. Too much loss and fear and uncertainty. He was finding he cared less about the little things, at least right now. Self-conscious Banner would be back, but for now, he was just glad to be there.

"Veronica, yes. He still wouldn't come out, but I had to do something. Their big guy kind of ruined it. I got him though." It was strange, being glad about that, but it was him, not the Hulk. He fought, he gave back. Bruce shuffled after Tony's lead, still staying probably a little too close to him, too emotionally exhausted to hate his own clinginess. But he had to sit and drink water and let Tony finish his project. His shoulders were slumped and he found himself shaking, multiple things crashing on him at once.

"He's gone," Bruce said softly. "I don't feel him anymore. I think it's just me now." And why in all hell was that upsetting him? This used to be all he dreamed about, but he gave up, he knew nothing outside of the Hulk could exist for him. The gap there should and would be a wonderful thing. The Hulk was useful. The Hulk could be counted on when things got rough, although not recently. What was this place, that ripped him in half?