Elizabeth (Betty) Ross (
labcoatgirl) wrote2012-06-26 04:03 pm
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A Day in Your Shoes
It had been nice working with Bruce again. The lab setting, the smell of chemicals, the white coats....it was like old times. Betty looks over at Bruce with a smile, dropping a few drops of liquid into vials in front of her before testing the radiation quotient of each.
Everything seemed to be going well.
As Betty slid the last batch into the radiation sensor machine for Jarvis to analyze, there was a warning from the computer AI. "Warning, systems experiencing sudden electrical overl--"
The rest of the warning is cut off by an explosion as the electrical overload reaches the machine in front of Betty. She's thrown back into Bruce by the explosion and electrical output, the two of them thrown against the wall before landing on the debris pile. The entire lab is trashed...and the two scientists are not moving.
Everything seemed to be going well.
As Betty slid the last batch into the radiation sensor machine for Jarvis to analyze, there was a warning from the computer AI. "Warning, systems experiencing sudden electrical overl--"
The rest of the warning is cut off by an explosion as the electrical overload reaches the machine in front of Betty. She's thrown back into Bruce by the explosion and electrical output, the two of them thrown against the wall before landing on the debris pile. The entire lab is trashed...and the two scientists are not moving.
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He sucks in a sharp breath through his teeth and forces his eyes open, something in his stomach turning to molten lead as he surveys the damage. A hand goes up to his forehead as he takes it all in, fingers coming away bloody -- he doesn't need to look to tell, the stickiness enough to tell the story for him -- and panic sweeps in, replacing simple dread. It only gets worse when he realizes he doesn't quite feel right in his own skin, and his first thought is that he's in the process of a transformation. That he can still think that far ahead, that his ability for rational thought isn't being consumed by hot, red fear-anger, doesn't occur to him. His only thought is getting up, away, something before he's too far gone and he either hurts Betty or can't get her the help she likely needs if he's bleeding.
"Betty, are -- "
He stops short, dust from the debris coating the inside of his throat, and breaks into a string of coughing. It doesn't help having some sort of dead weight on his chest and when he stops, when he realizes what it is -- who it is -- his fear redoubles itself. Oh, God, no.
He puts a hand to her shoulder, shaking her lightly, all thoughts of his own unfortunate condition giving way to hers. "Betty."
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Her head aches as she starts coming around, groaning and moving a hand groggily to put to her forehead. What happened? She couldn't remember at first. Someone was shaking her...
"...Bruce?" She coughs out his name, the dust starting to hit the back of her throat as she blinks up at him.
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"There was an explosion," he explains hurriedly. "I -- can you move?"
That question is more for her benefit than his own as some tiny, medically-inclined part of his brain realizes that squirming under her might not be the best of ideas. She might not have any obvious wounds, none that he can see, but that doesn't mean she hasn't broken something vital.
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There's an inner panic building inside of her. "Bruce, you're hurt!" Stupid machine, why did it have to blow up?? She did everything right, this wasn't her fault! Was it her fault?!
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He can't know that, not for sure, not without a mirror and a light source to test his responses and tell if he has a concussion, but he doesn't want her to worry. Not when she's in obvious pain. Not when, minor or otherwise, the cut will likely be gone in a few minutes when the Hulk slips into the driver's seat.
"We need to get you help. Before ... "
Only then does he realize that his own aches and pains have nothing to do with fighting a shift, and he trails off, glancing down at his hands, bewildered. His control is good, but not that good. The last time something exploded, he'd transformed and all he'd done then was taken a hard enough hit to his solar plexus to knock the wind out of him. That had been nothing compared to the cut on his forehead, a potential concussion, and the bruises he can all but feel forming on his back as he stretches into a sit. He doesn't understand and, glancing back to Betty, he reminds himself that he really doesn't have the time to. He can think about it later. He needs to get Betty to the lab Tony's cordoned off for him and his dabbling in medicine.
"We need to get you help," he repeats, putting a gentle hand on her shoulder.
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"Not my fault, I'm sorry I should've done something I...my head...aaaahhhh" That pounding headache is growing too much for her to think straight. Betty grabs handfuls of her hair in agony as she screams...her voice starting to go deeper and louder as her arms take on a scary transformation, the veins coloring green across them.
She's in full panic mode, her eyes glowing green as she scrabbles the debris on the floor in front of her as if to crawl away, fleetingly realizing what was happening but unable to stop it.
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The swell of muscle mass, the slow spread of green, the pain she's in -- it all makes sudden sense and no sense at all. He recognizes what she's going through, if only because he's gone through it himself time and time again, but it shouldn't be possible. He's the man leashed to his monster, not her. She couldn't -- she shouldn't --
He shakes his head, trying to clear it, and it works, if only partially, trying to figure out how the hell this is possible replaced by a hundred different things he could say to try and guide her through this. All of them sound too much like the things he's heard from the other people who know what he is, however, pointless and uneasy -- just breathes and calm downs -- and so he gives up on them, settling instead on something he knows will help, even if it's against his better judgement. Even if he still doesn't understand.
"Don't try and fight back."
If there's anything he's learned over the last few years, it's that fighting a change only makes things worse. If he lets it come, if he doesn't try to control it, it hurts less and he's generally less likely to put a friend through a wall in his fury. He can only hope the same will be true for Betty and not for his own sake. He trusts her, just as she trusts him. He doesn't want her to have to live in terror of trusting herself until they can fix this.
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Somehow, Bruce's voice cuts through all the noise in her head and she manages one terrified look with glowing green eyes back at him...and does what he says, letting it happen. She's terrified of hurting him but she had to trust him.
An instant later, Betty is gone as the green monster stumbles to it's feet, holding it's head...staring at it's hands disoriented....and immediately attacking the first thing to spark, the remains of the exploded machine from before. Screaming defiance at it as it tears chunks of metal off, smashing it to pieces. The machine hurt Bruce, SHE MUST SMASH IT!!
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He obviously can't help Betty while she's still transformed, obviously, so they'll have to wait it out. But what to do in the meantime? What to say? How did Betty deal with him when they spent that night in the cave after her father came after him? How does Tony do it now? He can't remember, not entirely, and not for the first time, he wishes he had better recollection of what he did as the Hulk.
"Yeah," he starts finally, nodding to the machine as he tries to emulate some of Tony's usual flippancy. "I'm pretty sure that's done."
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She, or rather it, turns with a snarl at the voice before processing who it is. Her green eyes looking wildly down at him as she leans on a wall to keep her balance. Everything was too big to move around, too loud in her head to think.
Betty Hulk struggles to talk and pounds both fists into the floor with a BOOM! in frustration when she can't. Another chunk of machine sailing into the wall and right through it.
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Bruce starts, half-ducking in an effort to avoid flying debris; he brings up his hands in front of him, defensively, when he straightens. He stands there for a moment, letting her get used to him, treating him as one might treat a frightened animal, and then takes a cautious step forward, his hands still held out in front of him. "Whoa, hey. It's just me."
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His voice calms her down a little, just looking at him as she shifts awkwardly on her large green feet. Uncertain what to do but for now, he's holding her attention.
"...b...Bruce..." It's almost a quiet whine, a plea to be understood. She knows it's him, everything is just a little to much right now.
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"Yeah. Yeah, it's me." Pausing, he wets his lips with his tongue a little. "It's okay. You're safe."
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...and tired...
Betty Hulk wavers on her feet, suddenly looking exhausted as she puts her hands on her face. Falling with a thump to sit down as her green tint starts to slowly fade, her form shrinking down as it does.
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There's a space of time before she's able to start waking up. Her eyes flicker open sleepily. She felt like she could sleep for days...the blur above her resolves into Bruce's face and she blinks, not comprehending what just happened.
"...did...I...." She could remember something but it seemed like a bad dream. A horrible bad dream. "Was I asleep?"
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"Unconscious," he corrects, making a small, sour face. "You kind of ... yeah."
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She had a flash of green hands reaching for....him. Betty starts trembling, not knowing what to do with the memories flickering in on her. Her eyes starting to fill with tears. "What did I do??"
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He pauses, realizing he's neither making much sense or being entirely reassuring, and starts again. "There was an explosion. That's how I got the knock on my head. When we came to, I was afraid of letting the -- the Other Guy out, but I ... kind of couldn't."
Another pause. "You sort of ... you know. And trashed the rest of the machine we were working on. Then you collapsed. That's about it."
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But it seemed she did. The destroyed lab around them was evidence of the explosion and her clothes were torn, the sleeves missing. It was ridiculous. Impossible. "But...but how??"
Oh no, if she had the Hulk...realization washes over her face, she had to keep from getting angry. Or scared. Not that she felt up to being angry at the moment but this was all pretty terrifying.
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He closes his eyes briefly, sucking in a deep but staccato breath through his teeth, and tries to focus on all the great upsets in his life. His father's treatment of him and his mother when he was young. Betty's father and the way he lied to him, then hounded him for years. Natasha lying to him, not once but twice, and so on and so forth. His pulse jumps lazily, real fury not wanting to come, and he can feel his blood pressure rising slowly with it, but beyond that he feels no different. If anything, he feels vaguely hollow.
He opens his eyes, shaking his head. "Guess the Other Guy's on vacation."
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She manages a wan smile, a half hearted attempt to see the good in this situation. "I suppose you could go do something stressful now if you wanted to. Till we figure this out." While she tried to stay calm. Something she hadn't had too much experience in.
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He takes a moment to scrub a hand over his face, banishing what thin anger he managed to call up, and looks at her levelly as he drops his hand back into his lap. A moment of silence follows, and then, "We'll figure it out. Until then, though ... little secret? Find something that kind of irritates you and focus on it. Nothing big, just -- accidentally burning your toast or something. I know how it sounds, but being at least a little angry all the time helps."
He'll find her a heart monitor, too. It won't be infallible, considering that's not quite how things work, but it'll serve as an early warning system. He just hopes she won't need it for too long.
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She nods, trying to think of something that might do the trick. While he's looking for a heart monitor, she takes a moment to go get cleaned up in the shower. She feels so exhausted...it's five minutes before she realizes she's stepped into the shower, torn clothes and all, just standing there under the water with her eyes closed. And another moment to realize she didn't care, sliding down to sit in the tub and feel the hot water running down her. As if she wished it might wash away the memories of the past half hour.
Bruce might have to check on her in a bit if she stays in too long.
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Either way, he sets both down on the table when he hears the sound of running water in the bathroom, and settles in to wait for her to finish. When the amount of time she takes begins to grow worrisome, he fidgets idly in his chair -- he'd be lying if he said he wasn't grateful he could still worry, when he seems incapable of true anger at the moment -- and then gets up, moving to the bathroom door. He spends another few minutes lingering there before he finally decides to knock on the door.
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Betty's actually fallen asleep in the tub in her wet clothes, she's so exhausted. The warm water is a comfort and the entire bathroom is all steamed up.
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"Betty?"
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Betty starts awake at being shook, terrified that she's the Hulk again before seeing who it is. A shaky sigh of relief. "...sorry."
Now realizing she's all wet and sitting in a few inches of water in the tub. "Oh."
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He brushes his hand over her shoulder lightly, then pulls his hand back. "I'll ... get you a towel."
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If anything, she now understands what it is that Bruce goes through every day, even if this is a small part of it.
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He offers her a brief, but entirely sympathetic look and moves to get a towel out of the linen closet. He's still wearing the same look when he returns with it, moments later. "I wish I could tell you that actually worked."
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"I'm sorry," he says after sometime of silence. He may feel odd, like half a person at the moment, but he's still more than willing to take the blame for everything and anything. Really, though, who else could be at fault here?
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"...me too," she says quietly into his shoulder.
Once she's able to compose herself again, Betty finally speaks again. "What do we do?" Focus on fixing it, that's what they needed to do. But she wasn't sure if they should be looking for a cure or a way to switch back. As bad as it was, she couldn't give this back to Bruce.
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He pushes concepts of blame out of mind when she poses her question, however, and wets his lips with his tongue, looking thoughtful. "We could probably recreate the, uh, accident. If we're lucky, if that's what actually caused it, maybe we'll bounce back."