insurgents | OPEN POST.

I'm fine, I'm okay, you did it. You did it. Oh my god.

[They are actually on some totally undeveloped slope of mountain because he broke a new path with his bare hands. It's unbelievable. And she's not unconscious this time! An improvement! Although her reassurance was automatic, she really is fine or will be. Her voice is rough from coughing, but everything's under control.]

Let's not do that again. I can't believe... Are you...?

[As soon as she's worked out which way the planet's tilted, which is actually a much more complicated task than it really needs to be, she's sitting up until she can see his concerned face looming over her, squinting while she checks him over and feeling along his arm the way she would with Bruce.

There's almost too much grit and dust to make out the burns, but even before her eyes, they're healing.]

[ The Hulk watches her, seemingly satisfied with her reassurance, despite the fact she's still recovering from the whole mess. She's not passed out at least, and she's not injured that he can tell, so he limits himself to letting her get some air, all the while more or less hovering over her.

It only lasts until she reaches out, though. Her touch is relaxing at first, but then her fingers move too close to his injuries, and Bruce has enough presence of mind in there to get the beast to pull away from her.

He steps back, turning just so, grunting as he draws his arm closer to his chest and hunches as if to keep the injuries and any possible blood there from her. After all, it may be difficult to make the Hulk bleed, but it's not impossible— and he doesn't want her touching that. ]

Sorry, sorry.

[She misreads his gesture entirely and assumes she's hurt him somewhere she can't see, quickly withdrawing her hand too, although that only lasts a moment. Before too long, she's crossing the meter or so it takes to face him again, crawling stiffly because getting to her feet is a little much right now but so is the way he's retreated.

There's something so wrong about seeing the Hulk curled in on himself.

She's cautious not to touch him this time, but she settles in close and tries to catch his eye.] You saved me again. And hopefully everyone in there. Thank you. [Until she sees the remains of the building she won't understand the full extent of the danger they were in, but she doesn't need to for the the statement to stand.]

[ The Hulk doesn't feel pain, though. Not in the way other people do, and even then it wouldn't be a gentle touch like that to do it. Eventually the wound closes up, and he feels safer turning to face her again, and surer that she won't reach out to touch any of his other injuries again. Even if they're all healing rapidly.

He grunts at her words, something that might be translated to 'you're welcome' or just 'whatever'. Either or both. Of course he saved her, if there's one thing the Hulk's good for is at least keeping Betty safe, even if in Bruce's eyes it'll never make up for how much he hurt her during his first incident.

Green eyes look around, finding some woods in the distance. He can't make himself turn back to normal, but he can't stay here either, not while he's like this. He glances back to Betty, a knowing look, figuring she'll know too that he has to leave again. ]

Please don't.

[If it were anyone but the Hulk - if it were Bruce, even - she would be a little more sarcastic about him leaving her (again), but with this part of Bruce, she can't. Whether it's the memory of their first real meeting, the weight of her role in his creation, or maybe just knowing that he really doesn't think he has a choice and why, something calls on her to treat him gently. Instead of crossing her arms, she reaches toward his face which is still easily out of her reach.]

Don't go. You don't have to go. Stay with me. [She gestures to the exposed slope. She means he doesn't have to run, but also that he doesn't have to transform yet. Bruce will forgive her that. She doesn't spend enough non-traumatic time with her lover's alter-ego and Bruce already wakes alone too often.]

[ It's the Hulk that listens to her words now, more so than Bruce, but he stares at her like he doesn't quite hear them right, like he doesn't understand. Why? Why would she want him to stay, to not turn back? No one would want the Hulk around, not unless there was a fight to be won, a place to break out of (or break into), and that's obviously not the case anymore. So far as most people are concerned, Bruce himself included, there's no reason for the Hulk to linger any longer.

She shouldn't want him to either.

But her request is a soft song in his ears. The night is particularly dark when the electricity's still down, and even the distant sound of an emergency car or truck flaring out in the distance is muffled by the mountain between them and the city. The Hulk lowers himself onto his knees in front of her, his stance softer but not relaxing, never relaxing fully. ]

[He might not relax, but she does when it's apparent that he's not about to up and vanish on her. She scoots closer and eventually leans against him, tentatively at first and mindful of where his injuries had been, then more confidently when he doesn't flinch away.

Back at the conference, help is probably coming for the people left in the aftermath. Even if everyone's mobiles are still not functional, there's been enough commotion to draw outside attention. If Bruce were more present, he'd probably want to do the responsible thing and lend a hand, and someone would start on the investigation, but all things can take care of themselves for the moment and she isn't going to worry about it.

Bruce's Avengers life is one she's only involved in through happenstance, and she thinks he prefers it that way. Frankly, she does too, especially when stuff like this happens, as romantic as superheroism is in concept. She's seen the Hulk several times now, spoken with him, even partnered with him, but it's still rarely for long and it would be fair for the Hulk part of Bruce to think she's of everyone else's opinion about his existence and utility. The opportunity for this kind of downtime has really only happened once before.

There's no storm to wait out, but it still puts to mind her first real encounter with the Hulk, years ago, a violent nightmare that somehow ended sweetly. (What Bruce considers their first encounter doesn't count.) There's something not quite like guilt associated with the memory, an old choice she doesn't regret but isn't proud of either.

She'd fallen asleep to those thoughts - they'd fallen asleep together - but from the way the Hulk is tensed under and beside her, neither of them are that same sort of exhausted tonight. After the excitement from earlier, she doesn't mind doing nothing as long as he doesn't get bored of her resting quietly, sometimes coughing a little when she breathes in too deeply.]

[ It brings back the memory of another time. He can't quite place it or remember it vividly, but it's there, and it takes a more tangible shape when she leans in closer and relaxes against him. Almost like she had done that one time so long ago, except it's not raining now, there's no thunder to frighten or anger him; there's just a strange sort of calm.

There's always screaming going on in his head, but not during these moments. Like her presence alone puts monsters to sleep, like her breathing makes his mind clear, even if it's not real, nor is it permanent. But for now he takes this temporary peace for what it is, and he eventually curls up next to her, a large green body framing hers, serving almost like a barrier or a shield.

The Hulk doesn't sleep, though. He lingers there, watching her, waiting for her to fall asleep, and it may be minutes or hours until he simply vanishes, rather than sleep, leaving behind only a much smaller figure curled up next to her, naked save for the overstretched pants, hair and skin messy and dirty but at least showing no wounds. ]

[Since she isn't asleep, it's hard not to notice when the Hulk begins transforming into the familiar shape of the man she loves. The change is faster than she remembers, and smoother, and she doesn't really get the chance to say anything appropriate or ask the dozen or so questions that suddenly spring to mind, but that's fine.

She's happy to have Bruce back, even scuffed up and looking like the fugitive he isn't anymore, oddly small and vulnerable. At least his head fits into her lap a little better this way. Her handbag and anything useful in it are long gone, but she pats him off with her hands and picks larger pieces of concrete out of his hair by touch while she waits for him to gather his bearings.

The moon is starting rise, fat and yellowish in the distance, and the reedy sound of sirens picks up from somewhere far away, almost lost under the chirps and chatter of the mountainside at night. There will probably be a search party - she'd guess not until the morning.]

[ Bruce shivers slightly, though not from the cold, and for a while it almost looks like he's asleep, not quite there. Even the dark feels too blinding and he lets his eyes stay closed for a long while, deep breaths coming in and going out of his lungs, and eventually he forces himself to blink his eyes open, the blur and distant dots of light fading until he can get a more decent definition of the woods and bits of city stretching out before them.

Though he kept his mind and memories throughout all that, it's as if it all hits him again with particular force now. He reaches for one of her hands and tugs it to his lips, kisses the palm, presses it against his cheek before he tries to turn just enough to look at her. ]

Betty— Betty. Are you alright? Jesus— [ He tries to sit up, struggling through the soreness he can feel through his whole body. ]

[It's warm out but he's cool to the touch and moving stiffly. Some side effect, maybe, of the transformation. Or... the whole mountain thing might do it too.]

I'm fine, Bruce. Everyone is fine. Take your time.

[She can't really know how everyone else is doing, but there's nothing to be done about that for now. He seems so much more fragile to her in relation to his other self. She watches him come back to himself with more concern that curiosity - she hasn't seen this nearly often enough to find it unremarkable.]

[ Probably a mix of both, though Bruce doesn't feel cold, even if he's shivering a little. Eventually the exhaustion will catch up to him too, but not quite yet. ]

Back— we need to go back. We need to... find them. Who did that.

[ His head is a little dizzy but it's nothing he hasn't dealt with before. It's the lingering effects of the smoke and stiff air that make him feel even weaker now, no doubt, because he has come back from willing transformations before, and it rarely ever takes this much of a toll on him anymore.

He gives up on trying to move, and just lets his weight lean on her, head nestling on her shoulder. ]

I need clothes.

You do. You're like a werewolf. Are you cold?

[The temperature is a blessing, but it means she doesn't have a coat this time to bundle him up. Or anything really. No phone. No money. Not even shoes.

She brushes hair from his face and dirt from his hair, presses her mouth into a thin flat line, doesn't tell him to let himself rest for godsakes. Just tucks him against her more firmly, feeling a little like a mother duck.]

Your teammates are probably on it already, though. I'm sure all this has made the news by now. We can head back whenever. They're probably trying to find you, too.

No. [ He manages a weak chuckle, glancing at her. ] That your way of saying I'm too hairy?

[ Humor helps but also doesn't, even if it makes him feel more like himself again. He uses every ounce of strength he has to try and get up, away from her tight grasp. He does appreciate her caring for him like this, but he can't just stay here. They can't. At the very least they should find a way back to their hotel. ]

Let's find some way back now. I can't— don't want to stay here. Maybe there's a house... somewhere nearby. I can get some clothes there. [ And by 'get' he totally means 'steal from a clothes line on someone's backyard'. ]

[She's too resigned to him doing things the hard way to insist, but she does get to her feet first so she can help pull him up. She hadn't actually stood up yet, but her legs aren't shaky at all; maybe they're both in better shape than she thought, even without necessity to drive them. She still doesn't think rushing back is necessary.]

Are you kidding? Werewolves are in right now. Team Jacob all the way. [The distraction helps her too. Having sat around here for a while, she has a pretty good idea of the way back to the convention center, even without a column of smoke to guide them. It's just too dark.]

If we find one, I think I look disheveled enough to knock on the front door and ask for help, [not that stealing would bother her at all. But he's not a fugitive anymore and he's also not alone, and there are other options.]

[ Bruce follows after, gladly accepting her support as he gets to his feet too. True, he probably wouldn't need to rush back right now, but he still wants to— wants to make sure those people are alright, that the team has the information necessary to start on a search for the culprit as quickly as possible. He also needs to alert them to the possibility that he was the intended target all along, that they likely meant to use an incident to yet again show the world how the Avengers —or most particularly, powered people— are a danger to everyone. ]

God, I can't believe you just used that reference. [ He chuckles, putting an arm around her shoulders for support as he slowly regains his balance. He nods. ] That works too, yeah. Let's try that before actually committing a crime.

[ Besides there might just be a few people who will look at him, make the connection, or even recognize who he is. Bruce may have a lot of people hating on him because of the Hulk, but he's also gathered almost as many fans. In this case that may just work in their favor. ]

[He's right, she knows he's right. She tells herself that he won't rest well anyway, knowing there's a minuscule chance inaction now might put anyone in harm's way later. And if he's not actually going to rest, they may as well tromp around.]

Oh yeah? Well I can't believe you got that reference. What, you liked the creepy bloodsucker more? [There's some shuffling.] Also, do you want to use my shirt to- to cover up until we find something?

[She's already working it off, making a face at the dark that's partially woods and partially night as they start to pick their way over grass and gravel. It's hard to believe there could be anything, anyone, out here for miles and miles. Talking about vampires was a stupid decision.]

[ He's definitely in no mood to rest, or lie around at the foot of a mountain and let the cold creep up on him until he's all shivering and curled in on himself. They don't need to do that, not anymore. They can just go back and the Hulk won't have been a monster that terrorized hundreds of innocent people. He will have been who saved everyone in that school.

It's a nice change, admittedly. ]

Do I have to have a favorite? [ He chuckles, groaning softly as he takes the first few steps. ] Uh... yeah, that's probably... Wait.

[ He grabs what's left of his trousers and puts them on, then uses some piece of torn up fabric to tie them around his waist. It's not perfect but at least he's covered up, and Betty doesn't have to take anything off herself. ]

Come on. [ Reaching out to take hold of her hand, he slowly starts down the mountain and away from the hole he punched through it. ]

[At least it makes for a good landmark. Bruce is clearly matching her pace which feels frustratingly slow between the darkness and the sharpness of the ground. The soles of her feet are soft and stupid, but at least a cut for her would only be that. More than once, he directs her around some invisible obstacle before navigating around it himself with a thoughtless grace. There's a physicality that doesn't come out for things like science conferences, that he picked up in their years apart, that sometimes still surprises her.

So her mostly-naked superhero boyfriend is a little too hot when he's not trying to be, but it's a good distraction, it's something safe to focus on. She keeps her thoughts to herself and her hand in his, urging her feet to step it up a bit.]

Yes, [she decides after finding her third spiderweb with her face.] You have to pick a side. Werewolves or vampires, Bruce?

[The woods rise around them as they continue downward, primordial and shadowed and not very Eden-like in the end.]

Edited (typooo (this is edit 1 and hopefully the last)) 2016-08-31 04:30 (UTC)

[ It's a ridiculous conversation, not the least bit serious, but at least the dark can't swallow their words so long as they keep talking. Makes the walk a little easier too, and it helps distract Bruce from how some of his muscles still spasm and whine in pain and soreness.

He'll have time to rest later on. Now's not that time, though.

He sighs, hums quietly and looks up like he's giving it some serious thought. Finally, he shrugs. ]

Werewolves, then. Closer to dogs. [ It's a totally legitimate reason. ]

The judges will allow it on account of... we really should have seen it coming.

[It gets less creepy as they go along. Less creepy, more boring. Still arguing the relative merits of modifications to monsters in popular fiction, they change direction together when there's a hint of artificial light in the distance. It turns out to be a modern cabin with a hint of winding driveway, and two cars parked out front.

In this light, Bruce looks more tired than he had sounded when they'd been walking, but Betty expects it's the same for her. She squares her shoulders and kisses his cheek.] Well, it's not made out of candy. I'll get the bell.

[ Bruce chuckles a little tiredly, walking alongside her, and welcoming the distraction of their conversation as they make their way through the woods. The hint of light offers a promise of civilization, although as they get closer to that house, Bruce can't help a tinge of worry that grows steadily with each step.

What happened must've made the news by now, and he wonders if the Hulk's been mentioned at all. What's been said about his involvement. Should he be thinking of running away? Is asking for help one big mistake? He knows these days most people see him as a good guy, but he's still done a lot of bad things. Some people are still scared of the monster, and rightfully so.

Still, he smiles at Betty, nodding and waiting a few steps behind her, a little more hidden as he keeps himself away from the light that filters out of the house when the door opens. ]

[She's not as cautious and not as worried he'll be recognized; even with his previous reputation, he doesn't look much like his more popular merchandise and the two of them enjoyed relative anonymity in the past. Maybe not for midnight strolls through the woods, but... she should have known not to underestimate fans.]

Hi sweetie, can you get your parents? [she tries on the little girl who is much too young to be opening the door to strangers in the middle of the night, even in the middle of nowhere. Maybe especially in the middle of nowhere.

Her (younger?) sister seems to have the same idea, tearing away into the house announcing at the top of her lungs that Amber has broken the rules. Somewhere between bemused and nonplussed, it takes Betty a moment to realize Amber isn't answering because she's staring past her through the crack of the door, eyes wide and mouth round.

Oh no. How naked is he?

Too naked for an eight ear old*. She whirls around just as heavier footsteps reach the door and pull it wide open, but before she can even begin to explain, she's interrupted.

"Daddy, daddy, it's the Hulk!" Amber drags someone, presumably 'daddy,' to the front door.

"It's the Hulk! It's the Hulk!" her sister takes up the chant, previous enmity forgotten.

Betty opens her mouth and then closes it again.

The middle-aged man at the door meets Betty's eyes and they exchange an unspoken what do we do as first one and then the other little girl attempt to launch themselves at her practically-naked boyfriend and attempt to drag him forward.

"You have to lend him your clothes, daddy!" yells Amber, who is clearly the ringleader in all this. "He tore them up when he," followed by a credible imitation of a roar and some stomping.]

He is Dr. Bruce Banner, [Betty tries again, amidst the high-pitched roaring** that follows, and the man shakes his head and offers Bruce his hand, while Betty attempts to disentangle the girls.

"Annie, Amber, leave the poor man alone. Oh, I know. My eldest has a poster in her room," he adds, a little grimly. "She bought it off the Internet, god knows where. Unfortunately, she's not here tonight." He nearly smiles. "We're never going to hear the end of it.***" The almost smile drops and his gaze sharpens. To Bruce, "About four hours ago. The Corris Center. That was you guys?"

* Amber and Annie are fraternal twins, and look between 10 and 12. Betty sucks at this game.
** There may also be further enthusiastic commentary on Bruce's wardrobe situation. It's okay. Bruce can take it.
*** The older sister is probably a teenager, but you can't fault her tastes in mild-mannered alter-egos. ;) ]

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