(Has been in working forever, hopefully if someone likes it it'll make me finish...)
Banner is so stupid, and so smart, and if he would just pick one or the other to be, he would cause a lot less trouble for both of them.
He never listens -- not to Hulk, not to anybody -- and even Hulk knows Banner doesn’t know everything. Hulk says team and safe and his friends (their friends, Hulk’s friends, Hulk’s first and only friends) say home and stay, and stupid, stubborn Banner ignores them all. He hides away, hides them both away and plots to leave home and team and safe behind. He’s still afraid, afraid of himself, afraid of Hulk, no matter how many times Hulk has tried to tell him the difference.
Tony knows. Tony knew all along, Hulk never even told him, the day they met him he just knew. Tony is smart too, and maybe sometimes stupid, but he’s stupid in ways Hulk can protect him from, so that’s okay. When Banner is stupid, there’s nothing Hulk can do about it.
And now there might never be. Hulk knew what he was doing, had screamed and roared at the test tubes and numbers and needles, but Banner was still smart enough to hold him back. Smart enough to cage him but too stupid to realize he didn’t have to. Smart enough to destroy him and stupid enough to destroy himself to do it. Hulk watched it all come together, saw it coming, slowly gave in to it, and when Banner was confused by his silence, he laughed. Of course he was confused. A caged beast wouldn’t see its end approaching and realize it could do nothing to fight it. And that was all Banner thought of him, all he knew, all his smart could teach him. He underestimated Hulk, threatened his existence and expected him to do nothing but thrash about mindlessly at it -- just like the pale, thin little god-thing had, and right now he would throw Banner into Tony’s pretty marble floor too, if he could find a way.
But he couldn’t, nobody could destroy Banner but Banner himself, and now he’d finally found the way to do it. Hulk had known for a long time, perhaps since he surged into existence, that this was how it would end, no matter how long it took. That he could protect him from everything but himself. He could feel Banner searching for him, probing and questioning, and didn’t dignify it with a response. Hulk withdrew his strength, even that raw strand of it that Banner could call on without him, curling himself away in a corner. If Banner wanted to do this, he could do it on his own. Hulk watched in silence as the doors were locked, the lab immaculately tidied, made to look as if he were never there. Words he didn’t really mean but thought would sound right were written neatly on leftover graph paper, folded in thirds with Tony’s name on the outside. Saying he was so sorry, it was better this way... Hulk growled. He wasn’t sorry. If he was sorry, he wouldn’t do it.
He lined it all up, the needles and the drugs and the little clock, made the measurements and the mixes and arranged everything just so, because he was still Banner, even in death.
MCU (WIP) - The Beast Without
Banner is so stupid, and so smart, and if he would just pick one or the other to be, he would cause a lot less trouble for both of them.
He never listens -- not to Hulk, not to anybody -- and even Hulk knows Banner doesn’t know everything. Hulk says team and safe and his friends (their friends, Hulk’s friends, Hulk’s first and only friends) say home and stay, and stupid, stubborn Banner ignores them all. He hides away, hides them both away and plots to leave home and team and safe behind. He’s still afraid, afraid of himself, afraid of Hulk, no matter how many times Hulk has tried to tell him the difference.
Tony knows. Tony knew all along, Hulk never even told him, the day they met him he just knew. Tony is smart too, and maybe sometimes stupid, but he’s stupid in ways Hulk can protect him from, so that’s okay. When Banner is stupid, there’s nothing Hulk can do about it.
And now there might never be. Hulk knew what he was doing, had screamed and roared at the test tubes and numbers and needles, but Banner was still smart enough to hold him back. Smart enough to cage him but too stupid to realize he didn’t have to. Smart enough to destroy him and stupid enough to destroy himself to do it. Hulk watched it all come together, saw it coming, slowly gave in to it, and when Banner was confused by his silence, he laughed. Of course he was confused. A caged beast wouldn’t see its end approaching and realize it could do nothing to fight it. And that was all Banner thought of him, all he knew, all his smart could teach him. He underestimated Hulk, threatened his existence and expected him to do nothing but thrash about mindlessly at it -- just like the pale, thin little god-thing had, and right now he would throw Banner into Tony’s pretty marble floor too, if he could find a way.
But he couldn’t, nobody could destroy Banner but Banner himself, and now he’d finally found the way to do it. Hulk had known for a long time, perhaps since he surged into existence, that this was how it would end, no matter how long it took. That he could protect him from everything but himself. He could feel Banner searching for him, probing and questioning, and didn’t dignify it with a response. Hulk withdrew his strength, even that raw strand of it that Banner could call on without him, curling himself away in a corner. If Banner wanted to do this, he could do it on his own. Hulk watched in silence as the doors were locked, the lab immaculately tidied, made to look as if he were never there. Words he didn’t really mean but thought would sound right were written neatly on leftover graph paper, folded in thirds with Tony’s name on the outside. Saying he was so sorry, it was better this way... Hulk growled. He wasn’t sorry. If he was sorry, he wouldn’t do it.
He lined it all up, the needles and the drugs and the little clock, made the measurements and the mixes and arranged everything just so, because he was still Banner, even in death.