"I know, I was surprised I won too. I got really lucky." Bruce didn't think it was due to any real skill on his part. Tenaciousness, maybe, but once he realized the Hulk wasn't going to save him, he had to stir up the energy to do it instead. Which was a far way from where he was before. There was a time he would've liked the excuse to give up. Dying used to be an impossible goal, not a reality, but it turned out he wanted to live enough to fight back. He wasn't sure until this moment how true that was. Wow. A day of mindbreaking changes. He really hated change.
Bruce had mental trauma in spades, but nothing physical. Even now, with aches and mild pain, he was weary of many things, but not injured. He was indestructible once, but he'd wanted to be anything but that. After killing so many people as the Hulk, he constantly felt like he deserved to feel it, and yet nothing could be done on that front. He couldn't mimic injuries, so they were internal. The truth was, Bruce didn't think the Hulk was a monster, because he was a creature of Bruce's own making. Bruce was the monster. Nothing could change that.
Dark eyes watched Tony work, having no intention of looking away from his friend, because eyes locked there meant he was not going to disappear. Alive, alive, alive. There had been no time to really talk about what happened. No time to understand the shadows in his friend's eyes, the emotional pain behind his words when he talked about the Avengers breaking up, and no real reckoning for the elephant in the room. Bruce knew that Tony went to great lengths to give him a life. Maybe he didn't know all of the lengths, but he did go above and beyond what most people would do for a human disaster. For the first time since the Hulk happened, Bruce had a place he belonged, and he was seduced by that promise of happiness. Flight was his response to many things, including happiness.
He owed apologies. He owed explanations. Maybe when he had the answers, he'd try that.
Instead he focused and shook his head when Tony dropped close. "No, he's ... we've fractured more since I've been gone." The hands were grounding. Bruce took in a deep breath and let it out, one hand lifting to grip one of Tony's, holding it tight. "He was in control since I left after Ultron, Tony. Years he had his own life, developed his own wants and needs, made ... friends." That beautiful, wild, engaging woman Bruce spent some time with but felt like he'd known for years. So yes, he and the Hulk were still bound at their core, but the Hulk became the dominant force. "That's why he could refuse to come out. He makes his own decisions now." Which was a terrifying concept in so many ways. The Hulk shouldn't and couldn't be trusted with that in a civilized society. Bruce looked at Tony and placed his free hand on his shoulder. An anchor. "He's gone."
no subject
Bruce had mental trauma in spades, but nothing physical. Even now, with aches and mild pain, he was weary of many things, but not injured. He was indestructible once, but he'd wanted to be anything but that. After killing so many people as the Hulk, he constantly felt like he deserved to feel it, and yet nothing could be done on that front. He couldn't mimic injuries, so they were internal. The truth was, Bruce didn't think the Hulk was a monster, because he was a creature of Bruce's own making. Bruce was the monster. Nothing could change that.
Dark eyes watched Tony work, having no intention of looking away from his friend, because eyes locked there meant he was not going to disappear. Alive, alive, alive. There had been no time to really talk about what happened. No time to understand the shadows in his friend's eyes, the emotional pain behind his words when he talked about the Avengers breaking up, and no real reckoning for the elephant in the room. Bruce knew that Tony went to great lengths to give him a life. Maybe he didn't know all of the lengths, but he did go above and beyond what most people would do for a human disaster. For the first time since the Hulk happened, Bruce had a place he belonged, and he was seduced by that promise of happiness. Flight was his response to many things, including happiness.
He owed apologies. He owed explanations. Maybe when he had the answers, he'd try that.
Instead he focused and shook his head when Tony dropped close. "No, he's ... we've fractured more since I've been gone." The hands were grounding. Bruce took in a deep breath and let it out, one hand lifting to grip one of Tony's, holding it tight. "He was in control since I left after Ultron, Tony. Years he had his own life, developed his own wants and needs, made ... friends." That beautiful, wild, engaging woman Bruce spent some time with but felt like he'd known for years. So yes, he and the Hulk were still bound at their core, but the Hulk became the dominant force. "That's why he could refuse to come out. He makes his own decisions now." Which was a terrifying concept in so many ways. The Hulk shouldn't and couldn't be trusted with that in a civilized society. Bruce looked at Tony and placed his free hand on his shoulder. An anchor. "He's gone."