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For the short time that he was out after all this time, Hulk's agitation was growing. This masked figure was small. Puny. Yet he was fast. And he kept trying to hold him at bay. Bringing back stupid puny Banner. Holding him with webs like a certain bug. No. No! No! His attempts at holding him down were pathetic and he decided he would end this now.
Hurt you. Hurt girl!
SMASH YOU.
SMASH.
SMASH!
"Dr. Banner!"
No! No Banner! Only Hulk!
"Please!”
The voice was weak. Frail. He stood over him, holding him right where he wanted, the massive fist shaking with restrained fury as it hovered, primed to strike a skull into paste. He panted heavily as he continued to shake, but nothing came. Why couldn't he do it?
"Bruce..."
The thick haze of rage and pain was overwhelming. But through it all, he caught the note of terror. He recognized the tone. He recognized the innocent spirit beneath that costume. An inquisitive, rumbling huff escaped him as he fought to listen.
”It's Peter...I'm your friend..."
A friend? Peter? He wanted to repeat that name. He narrowed his eyes, fighting to think. Words were always hard for him. In the back of his mind, Banner was crawling back to the surface. A sneer formed through his confused, breathing growls as he sensed it. But as his crushing grip eased slightly, his eyes drifted toward a mirror he had shattered in his own frenzy.
Clarity. Shame. He had almost...
Oh.
His gaze snapped back to the gasping, struggling, costumed pest he had just tried to obliterate. Low, rumbling growls escaped his throat as he finally registered everything. The massive hand clamped around Bug Man's face finally fell away as he stared in sheer confusion and horror.
"F-friend..."
His raspy voice returned, the hoarseness of it all sounding a bit threatening, but deeply vulnerable. He was.. a friend? Other friends were gone. Other friends were... dead... He was hurting a new friend...
The shifting rubble and tangled webs snagged on his thick hide suddenly went taut, dragging his massive frame closer to the building's edge. In his blinding rage, he had completely forgotten the traps holding him back.He let out a series of warbled, disoriented grunts before his footing gave out. He tripped backward, his immense weight dragging him over the edge. Dangling helplessly into empty air, he clawed desperately at a jagged edge of stone. His fingers slipped before his claimed friend lunged forward, shooting a thick web-line to catch his other arm. He stared down into the grand drop, then whipped his head back up to look at his friend in some rather confused relief. Why?
"Hulk. Bruce…I can help you. Please."
Friend was straining with his webs, but Hulk knew it was rather pointless. He gave a harsh, faint growl as the rubble pulled at his skin and threatened to open with raw wounds. With a quick glance at the costumed figure, he made his choice.
"Hulk... sorry..."
He let go.
"Bruce!"
It was... almost freeing. A sigh escaped the Goliath right before he collided with a pile of webbed rubble. The physical shock was quick, but pain was almost always meaningless; he was so used to it constantly ebbing away. Still, he didn't really want to get right back up. So, he decided to welcome the darkness.
.
.
.
When Banner came to, he realized he was on the ground, hidden amongst various debris. The Other Guy's growls were faint, having retreated back into the depths of his mind. So much for peace and quiet. He groaned as he looked around him, and then up. Part of a building was destroyed.
Was anyone hurt? Did I hurt anyone? Oh god, is Spider-Man okay?
Distant sirens distracted him from his racing thoughts, and instinctively, he scrambled to his feet. He needed to get out of here. He needed to leave. He needed to find something else to hold the beast back at bay.
NO CHIP
His mind throbbed with a sharp, echoing headache at the sudden mental pushback. The Other Guy—
Hulk
Right... Hulk... was still very much hovering near the surface, but he felt uncharacteristically subdued, almost deflated. Banner realized he didn't have the heart to be angry at him right now; if anything, he probably deserved the lingering guilt after using the big guy's body for years
"Yeah, yeah, I know," Bruce muttered.
He quickly ducked into an alleyway before an ambulance could round the corner. He really didn't want to risk it. But where could he even go? He couldn't go back to his university. His students would look at him in fear, despite their usual fondness for him and the big guy.
Wait.
Who was Peter? A brief, residual memory from Hulk flickered through his mind. The name had sounded familiar, but Banner realized he still couldn't quite place it. For now, he just needed to get out of here and lay low for a bit. It was something he was used to anyway, though after years of feeling at ease, it just didn't hit the same.
So he ran and hid.
It was not even a day or so later that the news broke that Spider-Man had been severely injured after being shot. Sneaking near the hospital under the cover of dusk, he left a small bunch of stolen flowers to rest on a bench before anyone could spot him. He would talk to the web-slinger some other day. For gratitude. But also for answers. For starters, the universal inhibitor. Only a kid named Ned knew anything about it. It didn't take a genius to put two and a half together that Ned was likely tied to Spider-Man's inner circle, though Banner wasn't completely naive. Ned wasn't his real name, and he clearly knew the kid had been lying to protect a secret. Perhaps this Peter was the real face behind that red mask of his. .
Friend.
Yeah…yea He probably was...