Again, not entirely happy with it, but this is what you get, sorry
Bruce wasn't at all comfortable with this.
They took him to the medical floors, of which there were more than one.
Bruce wasn't happy to learn that. He could feel his needs-to-be-calm heart pounding.
There was a small army of specialists waiting for them. Complete with identical white costs and notepads - they were grotesque.
Their eyes all turned to them the moment the elevator door opened.
They had their subject outnumbered and surrounded. Experiments in the front, Avengers cutting off escape route. It was clearly pre-arranged, without informing anyone.
A familiar part of Bruce wanted to kill someone.
They moved to the examination room in something like a royal procession. Colorful superpowered guards, in an almost holy silence, with white costs trickling in behind them. Forming a half-circle around The Patient. He knew to sit down on the plastic bed without being asked - because of course he did. He looked absolutely terrified.
Bruce took a breath. Then another. Then another.
He got the team to leave first.
Tony run away at the first excuse, walking so fast as if the Devil chased him.
Steve was quick on his heels, trying for more leader-dignity and mostly failing. Bruce felt a pang of compassion despite everything; he was so young.
Natasha almost snarled when he suggested she should leave, so Bruce moved on.
Clint was reluctant, glancing at his friend several times. Ever the protector. He was unhappy with everything; Bruce could comisserate. But he did walk away eventually.
With that done, he looked around again. Doctors still in half-circle, measuring their subject with professional eyes. Natasha between them and the bed, muscles tout and ready for attack. Test subject, immobilized by cold stares criss-crossing him like a pinned insect.
Insect that was still alive and trying to move, but couldn't.
He kicked the doctors out too.
He couldn't get rid of them, but he could at least have them stand outside the door in waiting.
Then he was faced with Natasha, angry-eyed and almost desperate. Bruce admired her in that moment. He didn't want a witness for this, but... There was a test subject shivering in front of him. It was Natasha. Maybe he could accept this. Maybe, maybe--
"It's okay, Natalia."
The air around them stilled. Bruce watched as his terrified subject reached out for Black Widow's wrist from behind, trying to soothe his protector. "Please. It's okay."
He held his breath. For a moment nobody moved, and then--
"I'll be right outside." She said it like a threat.
She walked out, and Bruce was left behind with a mirror image.
He took a breath, then took the steps to join him on the bed - his mirror shyed away, trying to make himself smaller-- and finally gripped his hand.
Fill: part 16 - Matt
Again, not entirely happy with it, but this is what you get, sorry
Bruce wasn't at all comfortable with this.
They took him to the medical floors, of which there were more than one.
Bruce wasn't happy to learn that. He could feel his needs-to-be-calm heart pounding.
There was a small army of specialists waiting for them. Complete with identical white costs and notepads - they were grotesque.
Their eyes all turned to them the moment the elevator door opened.
They had their subject outnumbered and surrounded. Experiments in the front, Avengers cutting off escape route. It was clearly pre-arranged, without informing anyone.
A familiar part of Bruce wanted to kill someone.
They moved to the examination room in something like a royal procession. Colorful superpowered guards, in an almost holy silence, with white costs trickling in behind them. Forming a half-circle around The Patient. He knew to sit down on the plastic bed without being asked - because of course he did. He looked absolutely terrified.
Bruce took a breath. Then another. Then another.
He got the team to leave first.
Tony run away at the first excuse, walking so fast as if the Devil chased him.
Steve was quick on his heels, trying for more leader-dignity and mostly failing. Bruce felt a pang of compassion despite everything; he was so young.
Natasha almost snarled when he suggested she should leave, so Bruce moved on.
Clint was reluctant, glancing at his friend several times. Ever the protector. He was unhappy with everything; Bruce could comisserate. But he did walk away eventually.
With that done, he looked around again. Doctors still in half-circle, measuring their subject with professional eyes. Natasha between them and the bed, muscles tout and ready for attack. Test subject, immobilized by cold stares criss-crossing him like a pinned insect.
Insect that was still alive and trying to move, but couldn't.
He kicked the doctors out too.
He couldn't get rid of them, but he could at least have them stand outside the door in waiting.
Then he was faced with Natasha, angry-eyed and almost desperate. Bruce admired her in that moment. He didn't want a witness for this, but... There was a test subject shivering in front of him. It was Natasha. Maybe he could accept this. Maybe, maybe--
"It's okay, Natalia."
The air around them stilled. Bruce watched as his terrified subject reached out for Black Widow's wrist from behind, trying to soothe his protector. "Please. It's okay."
He held his breath. For a moment nobody moved, and then--
"I'll be right outside." She said it like a threat.
She walked out, and Bruce was left behind with a mirror image.
He took a breath, then took the steps to join him on the bed - his mirror shyed away, trying to make himself smaller-- and finally gripped his hand.
Like a lifeline.