Work Text:
Nightmares
38 years old
The first time I had a nightmare in front of someone was the day I fell asleep while working in the lab with Tony.
Nightmares are a common thing in my life.
They aren’t quite every night anymore, however, waking up in fear five times a week (if I even sleep every day that is) is still pretty normal for me.
It’s that night again, I can hear myself screaming as He bashes her head on the driveway again and again and again. I see the blood pooling but I can’t see their faces, I can’t hear anything other than me screaming and his voice shouting in my ear that it’s your fault she’s dead! You did this!
Tony wakes me up, he tells me I was shouting and looking incredibly distressed.
He has a look in his eyes but doesn’t ask any questions.
He doesn’t need to.
He already knows.
Guilt
44 years old
“Was…was anyone worried? When I never came back?”
Thor looks up from the map, a frown on his face.
“Very much so, we feared Barton would tear apart the world to find you, Stark wasn’t much better, we looked everywhere for you.”
I flinch internally, already regretting asking.
“I’m sorry I put everyone through that.”
Thor shrugs.
“It was hard, but you are back now, everyone will be overjoyed with your safe return home. I am sure of it.”
“Do you think they will be mad at me? That I left?”
Thor thinks for a moment.
“I do not know, maybe for a little bit, but I believe the happiness they feel from you being safe will overrule their anger.”
We are nearing earth, nearing the place I desperately left to keep the people I love safe from myself.
But end the end I only hurt them in the process.
Like always.
Intrusive Thoughts
40 years old
Overtime the thoughts get worse.
They get more specific, more personal.
Sometimes it’s me doing it, other times I’m forced to watch.
Natasha being tortured, Hulk crushing Thor to death, Steve being experimented on by Ross, a thing I create blowing up and killing Tony in the lab.
Me hitting Clint, just like He did to me and mama.
Everyone tries to tell me they aren’t real.
That Natasha is safe, Thor is strong, Steve is still here, Tony is alive.
That I would never hurt Clint.
But the thoughts follow me.
During sleep, meals, training, movie nights.
On missions and during fights.
Constantly following me.
‘You’re a monster.’
Poor Judgement
14 years old
The first time I dated someone, I was a freshman in high school.
He was three years older than me and very charming.
He bought me nice things, liked when I wore his clothes, and told me I was beautiful and smart and perfect.
Jen told me that she had a bad feeling, I didn’t listen.
He gave the attention I craved, and he knew it.
He knew exactly what words to string together to keep me right where he wanted.
He was sweet until the beautiful and smart and perfect turned into fat and stupid and too much work.
He told me that he was the only one that would put up with me and I believed it.
He gave me attention and that’s all I ever wanted, so I stayed.
And stayed.
And stayed.
Flashbacks
43 years old
Sometimes flashbacks can start at the worst time, to the most random trigger.
We were watching tv on a day where no villain was trying to take over the world for once.
It was nice, relaxing almost.
The volume was low with subtitles on, I was half watching and half reading, glancing up every few minutes.
I happened to glance up at the exact time a man slaps his wife and suddenly I’m no longer here.
It’s the fear that gets me first, then the dark.
I’m hiding in my closet, mama told me to go here and not come out until it’s safe, but I can hear her screaming and I want to help.
I want to make her stop screaming and be happy instead.
The footsteps are next, loud and unsteady, drunk, coming down the hallway to my hiding spot.
He’s coming, I know it, he’s coming to kill me next.
‘Please, I don’t want to die.’
But I don’t decide that.
“Bruce! Bruce!”
I flinch violently as I opened my eyes, but it does the job.
Clint is kneeling in front of me with wide eyes.
I blink, caving into myself as I look to see everyone watching me.
“I-I…I need to go.”
I stand quickly, ignoring the dizziness, and run down the hallway towards the elevator.
I pretend I can’t hear His footsteps following me.
Insomnia
41 years old
“Can’t sleep?”
I jump a bit, turning quickly to find Steve standing in the doorway of the kitchen.
I take a few breaths to calm myself and shake my head.
“Not really.”
Steve smiles a bit, coming over to sit next to me on a barstool.
“Me neither, nightmares?”
“Something like that.”
He hums.
“Me too, the war, the ice, constant missions, all things that will keep a man awake, makes sleeping not as enjoyable, huh?”
I nod, sleeping has never been enjoyable for me.
“I’m sure Clint would be open to shorter missions if you asked, I noticed you tend to sleep better if he’s with you.”
“I couldn’t ask him to that for me.”
Steve shrugs.
“Natasha says he sleeps better with you too, maybe you don’t do it for yourself but for him instead.”
I think about it for a second.
“Maybe.”
Steve smiles, knocking his shoulder against mine for a moment.
“Try to get some sleep, Bruce, you deserve some rest.”
I nod.
‘Maybe.’
Survivors Guilt
25 years old
The first person outside of a therapist or family who knew the truth about my mama’s death was Betty.
“Oh my god Bruce that’s awful, I’m so sorry.”
I’d heard it before, that tends to be a common reaction when people find out.
“Your father is in jail, right? He deserves to rot, I mean…I just can’t imagine! I-“
I nod, but it’s not the truth.
Anything is better than the truth.
“Sometimes I wonder why I was the one to survive and she didn’t.”
Betty frowns softly, sitting next to me and cupping my face in her hands.
“I’m glad you survived, Bruce. I wish you both did, you both deserved to survive and be happy, but your mom can’t now, and I can’t imagine she would want you to feel guilty that you survived. It sounds like she loves you more than anything, and would be so happy you got out and are living.”
I smile and try to look like I believe her, but it doesn’t reach my eyes and Betty can see that.
My mama should be alive and happy, not me.
I don’t deserve it.
Anxiety
39 years old
“Clint’s hurt, taking him to the med bay now.”
I couldn’t do anything, Hulk was still needed in the fight, but inside I was panicking.
Hulk could feel it, and anyone could tell he was panicking as well.
The second the fight was over he ran us to the Avengers Tower as fast as possible, allowing an easy transformation so I could get inside and to Clint without trouble.
“Woah woah woah, calm down Bruce.”
Natasha stops me, hands on my shoulders as I try to get around her.
“Please Natasha I need to see him, I need to know he’s going to be okay.”
Tony comes up and leads me to a chair with Natasha’s help, the two of them sit me down.
“Hey Doc, Clint’s going to be fine, just got hit in the head and knocked out, he’ll be awake soon and then you can see him, but you have to calm down first, okay? Take some deep breaths.”
I try to copy Tony’s breathing but it’s not working.
They say Clint is fine but what if he’s not?
What if Clint is going to die and I’m not there?
What if I could have prevented this?
What if-?
Hopelessness
16 years old
I can barely see past my tears, but Hulk is doing most of the work anyways, so it doesn’t matter.
“This will make everything go away right?”
'Revenge.’
He says back, and I nod, even though I’m not sure this is the best option.
But it’s the only one we have.
“Bruce? What are you doing?”
We both freeze, Hulk allowing me full control as he takes the backseat.
“Bruce…Bruce please tell me that isn’t a bomb.”
I can’t, I can’t lie to Jen.
“Bruce I’m going to come closer okay?”
I nod slowly, not turning as I hear her footsteps come towards me.
“Holy shit-! Okay Bruce let’s get out of here okay? You don’t have to do this, please Bruce.”
The tears come down faster as I nod.
Jen gently helps me stand, I watch as she looks at the bomb with fear.
‘She’s scared of us.’
I don’t have the energy to argue with Hulk, so I just nod.
“Come on Bruce, let’s go home.”
‘This is the end.’
Avoidance
40 years old
“You’re running from me.”
Even though it’s the truth, it still hurts to hear.
He sounds sad, tired.
‘I did that.’
“I’m sorry.”
“I’m not going to keep you here, you are free to leave, Bruce, I just want to make sure you are safe…and that you actually want to leave.”
He knows the difference between wanting to leave and feeling like you have to, I do too.
“I’m dangerous.”
“That’s bullshit, you and Hulk aren’t dangerous to me and we all know it.”
I clench my fists before deflating and closing my eyes.
‘He followed us to Argentina, he wouldn’t do that if he didn’t care.’
“I’m sorry, Clint.”
Startle Response
45 years old
The light turning on overhead makes me jump violently, I try to not shout but I can feel my heart rate accelerate during my fright.
“Oh crap! I’m sorry Dr. Banner!”
I turn to see Kate Bishop, who is training under Clint currently, standing in the doorway of the kitchen.
I shake my head, taking a few deep breaths.
“It’s…it’s okay, Kate, just didn’t expect you or Clint to be awake is all.”
She doesn’t look convinced, but does walk farther into the kitchen, grabbing a water bottle from the fridge.
“Are you sure you’re okay? The jump was pretty violent, I honestly thought you were about to fall out of your chair for a second.”
I laugh for a moment, a bit breathless.
“Yeah…yeah, I’m fine, just…just didn’t expect it like I said.”
She looks unsure, holding the water bottle tighter in her hands.
“You know, for awhile I used to jump like that every time something unexpected happened, maybe you could talk to Wanda…or even Clint, they both helped me.” I watch as she walks out, not turning off the light behind her. I sigh, putting my head in my hands as I think about what she said.
‘Kate should never have to jump like that.’
Negative Self Image
44 years old
“For someone who is an equal match to a god, you certainly think badly of yourself.”
I turn towards the door, where Loki is standing against the doorframe, looking away from me.
“How would you know that?”
“Call me talented in finding out what people actually think of themselves.”
“Let me reiterate, why would you care about that?”
He shrugs, walking farther into the room before sitting on the bed I’ve been sleeping in, finally looking up at me.
“If the person, a mortal especially, who has bested me in battle before, thinks he is nothing, then what would that make myself?”
“Annoying at the moment, I thought you were working with Thor and Val.”
Loki almost smirks.
“You think yourself a monster.”
“I am a monster.”
“So am I.”
I pause, ignoring the look in Loki’s eyes as he stares me down.
“Thor doesn’t think you are.”
“Thor can be an idiot, but he doesn’t think of you or the beast as monster either, and if what he’s told me the others you two call ‘teammates’ don’t either, especially the little archer you are so fond of.”
Loki shrugs, standing from the bed and walking towards the door.
“Careful Doctor, thoughts about oneself can be very powerful.”
The door closes behind Loki as I stare at the floor.
They can be very powerful indeed.
Hypervigilance
37 years old
You can never trust a spy, but suddenly I’m living with two and working with an intelligence organization that specializes in just that.
The captain, Stark, and Thor are unpredictable and therefore Not Safe.
This place is Not Safe. But outside is even Less Safe.
Ross is still after me, Stark promised to protect me, but he has nothing to lose by just handing me over to the military like Ross wants.
Agent Romanov and Agent Barton haven’t attacked nor dragged me to SHIELD for testing, but I bet they are just waiting for the right moment.
The Hulk is interesting to scientists.
And SHIELD, just like the military, wants to be strong.
They say nothing is stronger than Hulk.
It’s Not Safe.
I’m Not Safe.
I don’t know what Safe feels like.
Helplessness
13 years old
“Why do you let them bother you, Bruce?”
I shrug, but it’s not the answer Jen wants.
She sighs, coming over and sitting on the bed with me, leaning against the headboard like I am.
“You’re smarter than all of them.”
“That seems to be the problem.”
She leaned her head on my shoulder.
“Kids suck.”
I snort, nodding as we sit in silence.
Tears gather in my eyes as one slips free.
“I wish I wasn’t stuck in this endless cycle…it just feels like everyone wants to hurt me and I can’t do anything to stop it.”
Jen wraps me in a hug.
“It won’t last forever, Bruce, someday no one will hurt you…I’ll make sure of it.”
“You can’t protect me forever.”
I hug her tighter and she returns it.
“I will as long as I can, you should never be hurt Bruce, I want you to be happy and healthy.”
“I know, Jen.”
Depression
48 years old
The door opens allows the hallway light to shine into the room I’ve cowered away too, and I close my eyes to avoid the new light hurting them.
“Clint asked me to bring you a cookie and some water. He said he’ll be up here soon, he’s nearly done chopping firewood with Steve.”
I turn over to see Wanda walking over with a plate of cookies and a large glass of water.
“That’s a lot of cookies.”
She smirks a bit.
“I stole as many as possible before Bucky and Sam could grab all of them to beat Peter, I swear they are bigger children than Peter is.”
I laugh softly, sitting up with some difficult.
Wanda ignores the tear marks on my face and sits next to me on the bed, handing me one of the cookies and glass of water before placing the plate between us and grabbing one for herself.
“We’re all glad you came, Bruce, and everyone sends their best wishes.”
“But I’ve barely come down? If anything I’ve ruined the spirit…”
Wanda shrugs.
“I will not lie, everyone is sad you haven’t spent much time downstairs, but Yule, Christmas, and Chanukah wouldn’t be the same without your presence, whether that means you are upstairs healing or downstairs with everyone else, we are just happy you are here.”
‘We are just happy you are alive’ is what she means but doesn’t say.
I try to give her a reassuring smile.
“Hopefully I will be…well enough to join the next celebration.”
Wanda’s smile grows, turning hopeful and happy.
“We would be very glad.”
‘I would be too.’
Poor Self-Esteem
40 years old
“I don’t understand.”
Clint raises an eyebrow, taking a sip of his coffee before placing his mug down in front of him.
“What about?”
I sigh.
“Why you are still here with…you know…me?”
He shrugs.
“I like hanging out with you.”
I roll my eyes.
“Yes but why? I’m not very fun or interesting or you know…nice to look at.”
He stares at me for a moment.
“I think you are plenty fun and interesting and incredibly attractive.”
He returns to sipping his coffee as silence once again surrounds us.
I don’t bring it up again, but I know he’s lying.
I’m not anything like that, and I am certainly not good enough for Clint.
Mistrust
10 years old
“We want to help you, Bruce.”
I shake my head.
No one wants to help me.
They want information and then will realize I’m not worth it and will get rid of me.
“Can you tell us who did this?”
No, they will just tell me that it was all fun and games and not a big deal and that he was just playing.
They sigh.
Already tired of me.
“We can deal with this at another time…Bruce nothing will change if you don’t tell us, they will just keep hurting you until we can stop whoever it is.”
I don’t reply, I don’t give them the satisfaction.
I hear their papers shuffling.
“I’m calling your aunt to come pick you up, maybe you will tell her or you cousin."
No, I won’t tell anyone.
No one will help me.
They will only hurt me.
Communication Problems
42 years old
“So when are you going to tell Clint you aren’t mad at him.”
It’s worded as a question, but it’s not one.
“Why would Clint think I’m mad at him?”
Natasha walks around the table, sitting in one of the lab chairs across from me as silent as ever.
I watch her closely, she returns it.
“You’re avoiding him, haven’t spent much time with him or said more than a few words to him since he got back from the mission in Italy.”
Oh.
“I’m not…mad at him.”
“Really?”
She raises her eyebrow, not believing me.
“Mad isn’t the emotion I’m feeling.”
“Then what is.”
I frown, I don’t want to tell her the truth.
“It’s nothing.”
“Well it may be nothing to you, but it certainly isn’t to Clint.”
I growl, but she isn’t fazed.
She never is, not anymore.
“I’m scared, okay? Him getting hurt on the mission reminded me how easily he could die, and I’m scared of that happening, are you happy now? Just leave me alone.”
She stares at me for a moment.
“Why didn’t you just tell him that?”
I shake my head, lowering my eyes and looking away from her.
‘I don’t know how.’
Stress
23 years old
It’s late, I’m the only person in the library but I need to finish this.
“Bruce? Dear, please sleep, this paper is not worth your health.”
It’s Betty.
I startle a bit before turning to see her in her pajamas, rubbing her eyes.
“Betty? What are you doing awake?”
She chuckles a bit, yawning.
“I could be asking you the same thing.”
I gesture to my textbooks and papers.
“You can do that tomorrow, please Bruce it’s late and you didn’t sleep at all last night.”
I shake my head.
“I-I…I need to finish this, I need to get an A in this class!”
“You have an A in the class, Bruce, your GPA is perfect.”
I squeeze my eyes shut, clenching my fists and pressing them against my eyes.
“But it’s not enough!”
Betty gently grabs my hands, pulling them away and softly holding them in her smaller hands.
“It is more than enough.”
I want to argue, but I can’t.
It’s never enough.
Isolation
20 years old
“This isn’t good for you, Bruce.”
I’m aware, but I can’t do anything else.
“Could you at least sit with me in the backyard? Or the living room?”
It’s too bright, people could see me.
“Betty has called me, she’s wondering why you aren’t responding to her.”
I’ll hurt her, I’m not worth it, I’m better alone.
Jen sighs, shutting my bedroom door behind her and walking over to my bed, sitting next to my feet.
“Alrighty, if you won’t come to me then I will come to you, I hope you find law interesting because I’ve decided to read to you and this needs to be read by the end of the week so buckle up, Bruce.”
She begins to read her law textbook aloud, but I stay quiet.
I listen and remember Jen’s voice, knowing that I won’t hear it forever.
Soon she will leave me too and then I will really be alone.
As I should be.
Rage
40 years old
Anyone with any knowledge of psychology and my past would know that Hulk was not born of the gamma accident.
Given his own body? Yes.
Created? No.
It’s my fault he was created, the response to me pushing down every emotion I could so I could survive.
I rejected any and all emotions until they manifested into another person, an alter.
I’m not sure when it happened, if it was a specific event or over time, but ever since I was little Hulk has been there.
He was always angry, he didn’t like when He hurt us and hated when He hurt mama.
His rage grew as we grew, mine did as well.
We were a team, but teams sometimes get along out of necessity.
I didn’t like that Hulk even existed, a misplaced rage that should have been aimed at Him and not Hulk, and he didn’t like that I was too afraid to protect us or mama.
Rage can manifest in weird ways.
Lashing out.
Quiet.
Pushing everyone away.
Hurting.
Fighting.
Destruction.
Murder.
Rage is what created us.
But the idea of finally having peace keeps us going.
Healing
50 years old
“Look at how far you have come.”
I smile, turning to look at Jennifer, who is smiling back at me.
“You look beautiful.”
She laughs fondly, rolling her eyes at me playfully.
“And you look very handsome, Bruce.”
I launch myself at her, it’s been so long since I last saw my cousin.
“God Bruce you’ve come so far, I knew you could do it.”
I laugh tearfully in her shoulder.
“I know, I can’t believe I ever doubted you.”
“I can’t believe you ever doubted yourself!”
She pulls away, looking at me intensely with a happy and excited look in her eyes.
“Look at everything you’ve done and will do in the future! A world-renowned scientist, a multi-award winning one as well, working as a superhero for the Avengers and as Tony Stark’s right-hand man, loved by the world, happily married, and to a very good-looking man at that I mean damn, Clint Barton? You lucky duck you,” I playfully push her shoulder, making the two of us laugh. “You two have practically adopted Wanda and Kate and given them a life of love and family.”
She sighs happily.
“And you’ve saved so many lives, Bruce, you and Hulk both have, as Avengers and with your brilliant mind.” I smile, tightly clutching Jen’s shoulders.
“I’ve done pretty good, huh?”
She nods, brushing a strand of hair out of my eyes.
“Your mother is so proud of the man you’ve become, Bruce.”
I let out a small sob.
“I know she is.”
