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Bruce could only stare down at his blood-spattered knuckles, his entire body trembling.
This wasn’t happening. This wasn’t happening.
He thought he had control. He thought his stress levels weren’t that high into the danger zone. He thought he was getting enough sleep. He thought this experiment wasn’t weighing on him all that much.
But as all scientists can tell, hypotheses can be proven wrong. And his theory had been completely discredited when something as simple as Peter startling him during a particularly frustrating moment was enough for the big green guy to lash out.
Credit where credit was due, Bruce had managed to reign him in quick enough that a full transformation didn’t occur, but the blood on his hand was bad enough.
A soft whimper broke the silence, and Bruce forced himself to look up at the trail of debris, the shattered beakers, the smashed table, and the crater in the wall, that Peter’s semi-conscious body was now resting in.
“Peter!” The scientist choked on the syllables as he rushed over and fell to his knees in front of him, reaching out on instinct to pull him from the crater, but pulled back at the last second, scooting back a little bit.
The only reply was another whimper.
Bruce knew he needed to act to help Peter, but his whole body was frozen. As he stared down at his hands again, willing them to reach over and begin to assess the boy’s injuries, the thought of those hands turning green again kept him where he knelt.
The silence that persisted in the lab was only broken by his own heartrate racing in his ears, a sound that was getting louder and louder. Through it, he could vaguely hear the opening of the lab door, and Tony’s frantic footfalls as he rushed to help the injured teen. He couldn’t make out the words the inventor was saying to Peter, or to Stephen as the sorcerer came close enough to inspect Peter’s condition.
He also can’t hear the words being spoken to him by a calm, familiar voice. After the voice stopped speaking, there was a moment before gentle, yet firm hands were on him. Bruce allowed them to help him to his feet and lead him from the lab and away from the scene.
The two of them walked into the elevator, and once the doors closed, cutting them off completely from the chaos, Bruce recognized Natasha’s fiery red hair. Her face was devoid of any clear emotion to the outsider, but he had learned to read her well, and could see the clear concern behind her mask.
“Nat, don’t.” He muttered, turning his head away.
“Don’t what?”
He shook his head. “Just don’t.”
Natasha blinked. “You’re hurt.”
Bruce’s face scrunched up in confusion. “No, I’m pretty sure this isn’t my blood-”
“That’s not what I meant.”
After a moment, understanding hit him. “It-it’s fine, though. Or, at least I am, I’m more concerned about Peter.”
The elevator stopped and the door opened on Bruce’s private floor. Natasha placed a gentle hand on his back and lead him out. “When are you going to start accepting help?”
When I deserve it.
He didn’t say a word as they stood in the middle of the room, so she continued.
“It was an accident, Bruce. You didn’t mean to hurt anyone. No one blames you. The Big Guy is not your fault.”
Drawing in a shaky breath, he willed himself to believe her words. He let them repeat again and again in his mind, as he’d done a million times in the past, but there was always the stubborn wall in his head that prevented him from doing so.
“I can hear your self-loathing, it’s so loud, it’s deafening.” She teased.
He couldn’t help the smile that tugged at his lips. But it was gone as soon as it came.
“Nat, I appreciate it. Really, I do. But the truth is, I should’ve known how on-edge I’ve been lately. I shouldn’t have ignored that at any moment, he could come out.”
Her hand moving to his shoulder as they sat on his couch made him stop talking.
“Everyone knows you’re doing the best you can, but that doesn’t mean you have to work through this alone.” Again, he didn’t reply. “Tony and Stephen are seeing to Peter’s physical wellbeing. I’m checking on your mental wellbeing. Because just like ignoring physical harm, ignoring mental harm is only going to make things worse.” She paused. “And you know I’ve learned that myself.” He nodded quietly. “No one has blamed you before, and no one’s going to blame you now. And Peter’s going to forgive you no matter what.” She leaned into him, placing an arm around his shoulders. “But if you truly want to apologize, you can visit him later.”
“…I don’t think I can handle that right now.”
“Then we’ll go tomorrow, and you can start your apology by taking better care of yourself.” She slowly released her hold on him. “Go eat, and get to bed.”
Bruce tried, but he couldn’t stomach anything, nor did he sleep that night. Instead, he was awake trying to again let her words penetrate that wall and stick.
~~~~~
The next morning, Natasha walked with Bruce down to the MedBay, where Tony met with them outside Peter’s room.
Bruce couldn’t look at Tony and turned his gaze towards the floor, his mouth opening to allow the endless apologies he had to say tumble out. But before he could say any of them, Tony pulled him into a tight hug, patting him reassuringly on the back. It took him a moment of surprise before the scientist cautiously reciprocated.
As they pulled away, Tony spoke. “Peter’s fine. A little banged up, but nothing serious or permanent. So you can stop blaming yourself.”
Shaking his head, Bruce released a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding. “Not going to lie, this was not the reaction I’d expect after I threw the kid into the wall.”
Tony clapped a hand onto his shoulder. “Hey, come on, I can’t stay mad at my Science Bro!” When Bruce cocked his head in confusion, the inventor rolled his eyes and muttered, “People on the internet have dubbed us that. You look up the ‘Science Bro’… “hashbrown,” or whatever it’s called.”
“Hashtag, Mr. Stark! We’ve been over this!” chimed in Peter, his voice sounding quite nasally and stuffed-up. The teen had made his way out of his bed and was no leaning against the door frame, clad in a hospital gown. “Hi, Doctor Banner!”
Bruce recoiled slightly at the sight- the teen’s body was badly bruised, with most of them already yellowing. His right arm was wrapped in a cast from his hand to his elbow, and was in a sling that hung around his neck, but what made Bruce’s stomach churn was the bandaged over Peter’s nose, dried blood showing where it had seeped through. He instantly was reminded of the blood on his hand.
Tony speaking snapped him back to the present. “Yeah, but we also talked about you staying in the bed! Get back to it!”
Peter shrugged. “I’m fine, though! Remember What Mr-Doctor Strange said, I should be completely healed in like, two days!”
“But until then, you get that spider-butt back in bed before I use your web-shooters to keep you there!”
“But, Mr. Stark-“
“Go, or I call May!”
This caused Peter’s eyes to widen before he turned and limped back to the bed, his right leg clearly not as strong as his left.
As Peter climbed back into bed, Tony gave Bruce a nudge forward, encouraging him into the room. The scientist looked at Tony before cautiously walking towards the bed. “Um, hey Peter. How…how are you feeling?”
Peter settled back under the blanket. “I’m fine, really I am! Mr. Stark is just in over-protective-dad mode.”
Tony’s brow shot up. “Over-protective-what-now?”
The teen’s face paled. “I just said that out loud, didn’t i?”
Natasha, who was still outside the room, spoke up. “Tony, go find your other half. I’m pretty sure it’s Stephen’s turn to be the worried parent at the bedside.”
The inventor gaped at her, before looking back at Peter and Bruce once more. “You’re all against me, I swear…” He muttered before leaving the room. Shaking her head, the assassin smiled a half-smile at Bruce before shutting the door, giving the two of them privacy.
Bruce swallowed, turning to face Peter. “Look, Peter, I can’t begin to tell you how sorry I am…”
“It’s okay.” Before the scientist could speak further, Peter began rambling. “No, I’m not just saying that! I didn’t realize you were so focused, and I should’ve knocked or something, but it’s okay, I’m fine. I know you didn’t mean it, and besides, you should’ve heard Ned flip out over me getting the honor of being punched into the wall by the Hulk! He’s like, all super-fan-boy, and I-” He stopped. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean that to sound as bad as it did!”
Despite himself, Bruce laughed. “Don’t worry about it, Pete. I just…I can’t help but feel awful for what happened…”
“You didn’t mean for it to happen, and I can take it; it’s fine, it really is! I’m not mad, Mr. Stark and Dr. Strange aren’t mad, no one is! They were talking about how you’ve been super-focused on this experiment, and how you’ve not slept at all, and that put you on edge. I think you should be more worried about yourself than me right now.”
Bruce recoiled again, only this time it wasn’t in disgust. It was the feeling of Natasha’s words from the day prior about taking care of himself playing in the back of his mind, only this time they simultaneously broke through that wall of self-loathing. “…that…that is a good point, Peter.”
It was at that moment the door opened again. Stephen walked in, clad in a casual t-shirt and jeans, but with the Cloak still resting on his shoulders. Said garment quickly left him to rest over Peter’s legs like a blanket.
“Hello, Bruce.” Stephen greeted, his tone even, but his face morphing into a look of reassurance.
“Hey, Doc.” Was Bruce’s reply as what felt like the remainder of a heavy weight finally slipped off his shoulders. He looked at Peter once more, that nose bandage now not as horrific to look at. “I suppose I should go take a nap or something. You feel better, okay? Then once we’re both doing better, how about some lab time with the…um, what is it? The ‘Science Bros?’”
The teen’s face lit up. “Yeah! That sounds awesome!”
Bruce laughed again, getting up. With a nod to both other occupants of the room, he left, finding Natasha waiting for him nearby.
As he neared her, she smirked, and so did he. “I can hear your ‘I toldja so’. It’s deafening.”
She chuckled as they started to walk down the hall together. “I’ve been saying that type of thing since we met, but Peter says for you to take care of yourself once…”
“Can you blame me? The kid’s got that kind of effect on me.”
Shaking her head as they got into the elevator, she said, “It’s just Peter doing what he does best!”
"Breaking walls?"
A full smile split her face apart. "And not just in your lab."
He mirrored her smile. "I wasn't talking about that wall, Nat.: