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He had felt it coming this time—the rage building up in his chest and then rising to his throat like it always did before he exploded.
It was always the most mundane, insignificant things that would push him over the edge. The fact that something as ridiculous as not being able to leave Betty a nice note to find when she came back from the grocery store (four pens, one notepad, and a dent on the kitchen table the casualties of this endeavor) being the thing that made him start to lose his grip only served to frustrate him further—who loses it over something that ridiculous?
He…he was just trying to... He just wanted to do something nice, something—
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It was something he used to do, with her.
They’d leave each other sticky notes all over the lab and house to talk as a game. It started when he had been busy in the lab for about a week, he and Betty on completely different schedules.
She started to leave him notes around the lab when she couldn’t be there. They would say things like “Remember to eat something, Dr. Workaholic!"
They never failed to bring a smile to his face. After a while, he started replying.
It was how he first admitted his love for her. He had never been good at verbal declarations of love, but one day he slipped a note that said, “I love you” in between pages of her lab notes, right next to a faded coffee ring staining the page.
Later that night when he returned to the lab he was anxious to see what reply she had left, but when he got there instead of a note Betty had been there, sitting on the lab table waiting for him. As soon as he opened the door she flew over to him and threw her arms around his neck—and, well, it’s safe to say that no science got done that night.
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Hulk went rigid as the memory rushed through his brain, his hands still under the kitchen faucet in a futile effort to remove the pen ink that had gotten all over him.
Abruptly he felt his frustration, rage and pain fill to the brim and teeter on the edge of madness.
You’ll never be good enough. You’ll never be him.
Hulk immediately turned and took two long strides to the door, leaving the faucet running water and the door swinging wide open as he rushed into the woods behind their house to release his scorching grief. He wouldn’t lose it in the house, not again.
He didn’t make it far into the woods before his sanity left him and he started beating and battering every tree, boulder and shrub within his reach, screaming his rage at the sky.
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Betty pulled up to the house and saw the door swinging wide open, nearly knocked off its hinges and she immediately knew.
She pulled the keys out of the ignition and ran behind their house, taking a breath to call out to her husband when a loud, agonized roar echoed through the trees, causing the leaves to vibrate. Tears filled her eyes and she only whispered,
“Oh, Bruce…”
before she followed his hair-raising cries into the forest.
It wasn’t hard to find him, all the trees in a path fifteen feet wide had been viciously knocked down. She followed it and the sound of intermittent roaring to a clearing by a stream where she saw a brutish, heaving green figure viciously beating his fists into a boulder, shattering it into smaller and smaller pieces. Betty stood and watched him for a few seconds, trying to figure out how to get his attention without startling him into attacking.
The savage, wordless snarls seeping through his clenched teeth told her that he was even more far gone than usual, and she knew that getting too close right now would be dangerous, because he might react before he looked to see who it was who stumbled across his path. She gathered her resolve as she called out to him in a clear, but gentle voice.
“Hulk,”
Between one breath and the next he was upon her, heaving, twitching muscles filling her vision and hot, ragged breaths coming down on her.
He was crouched over her, his stance radiating danger and aggression. In her peripheral vision she saw his two fists clenching and unclenching on either side of her, and she fought to swallow her fear as he let out a thunderous growl that shook the ground and traveled up her feet to the top of her head, raising the hairs on the back of her neck.
Slowly, careful not to make any sudden moves that might cause him to react instinctively, she raised her head to meet his eyes, her own eyes burning at the corners.
When their eyes connected he let out another warning rumble, which abruptly was cut off.
His eyes were wide, pupils like pinpricks. A feral gleam had taken the place of the usual look of love and tenderness she was used to. As she stared into his eyes however, she saw recognition flash through them, then a rapid fire of multiple emotions, guilt and most of all pain chief among them.
He skirted back a few steps, leaning away from her and pulling his fists almost behind his body, as if he were trying to get them as far away from her as possible as he let out a keening whine.
She felt tears well back up in her eyes, seeing him in such a state.
Her heart stuttered as she saw tears shining in his sunken eyes as well.
It was difficult to see the gentle scientist she fell in love with in this wild, tortured creature—but she still could, in the shame that creased in the corners of his eyes.
She reached out to him, trying to bring forth the words that would bring the man she loved back to her, but at her motion he flinched back.
She paused, speaking gently and quietly to him as she walked closer.
“Shhhh, it’s okay. It’s okay.”
His torso jerked away from her like he was about to turn and run, but his feet seemed to be stuck in place. As she drew closer his limbs seemed to grow heavier, his whole body drooping like weights were tied to him, his gaze firmly fixed on the ground. She reached out to him, gently running her palm in soothing strokes over his forearm.
“Baby, it’s alright, you’re okay, I’m here.”
The hulking behemoth let out a mournful croon at her pacifying touch, sinking to his knees and leaning forward, bracing his arms on the ground, fingers digging into the rocky soil.
Betty moved forward and filled the gap, reaching up to his head that was now within her range. She gently guided his head to her shoulder, carding her fingers gently through his hair, rubbing soothing circles on the back of his thick neck. She felt her shoulder grow wet as a shuddering sob wracked his body.
She held him for about twenty minutes before he quieted.
Slowly, she guided his face back up to look at her, on his knees now at eye-level. His eyes were puffy and his teeth were still grit tightly in an effort to hold back his pain, but the insanity that had possessed him had clearly passed.
She leaned forward and kissed his forehead without thinking about it, and a stunned look crossed over his face.
“Are you alright, now?” she murmured.
He opened his mouth, but only let out a low moan, unable to access his words. He shut his mouth as mild frustration and determination flashed over his face before trying again, making a strenuous effort to speak to her.
“Bhh… hhh…”
He clicked his teeth together.
“Be-tty. Beh-tty. Beh… H…Hhhulk sssorry. H-hulk ssso sorry, Beh-tty.”
His voice was wrecked, like rocks in a blender. Betty’s heart clenched. Just how long had he been out here screaming? Hulk looked into her eyes and she saw the love-pain-regret there burning at her and she had to look away from that open expression before it broke her heart. She wrapped her arms around his neck fiercely, clutching him with all the strength she had, his tear-tracked face pressed into her shoulder.
“You have nothing to be sorry for, baby. Nothing at all. I’m sorry I didn’t get here sooner.”
Hulk felt more guilt flood through him at that. All he did was take up her time, take her away from her life…
Betty kneaded his temples like she had heard his thoughts and was trying to work them out of his skull, her fingers carding back through his hair again. He let out a pleased rumble despite himself, leaning forward more into the touch.
“Ghh… G-go home? Now?”
He lifted an arm around her in an offer to carry her back and she sat back into it readily.
“Yeah, let’s go home.”
She reached up and quaffed his bangs again, smiling a sad but encouraging smile.
“You really need a haircut soon, too.”
He let out an exaggerated groan and sagged, but huffed a smile at her bright laughter, as she tugged again at his hair.
“Don’t be so melodramatic, I did a good job last time!”
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After a short walk back to the house Hulk paused about ten yards from the front door. It was still ajar and he could hear the water, and the memory of what sent him into a rage resurfaced. Betty felt him tense under her and immediately reached up to his face and pulled it towards her, breaking his intense gaze and drawing his attention back to her.
“None of that,” she chided. “You’re going to help me unload the groceries, and then you’re going to go lay down and rest while I make us dinner.”
Hulk drew his brows together and was about to protest but Betty put her palm over his wide frown and cut him off.
“No arguments. Now lets get going.”
Hulk’s shoulders sagged a bit but he complied easily, giving a small sad smile at her tenacity.
That was his army brat wife, all right.
Hulk pushed down the flood of emotions that came with that thought as he carried an armful of groceries that Betty handed to him into the kitchen. On the floor he immediately saw the mess he made, panic flashing through him as he looked over his shoulder at Betty who still was retrieving the numerous groceries out of her car.
He set down everything in his arms carefully and gathered all of the torn paper and pens, shoving them in the trashcan.
Betty could never know that such a pathetic thing made him lose it, the mere thought filled him with shame.
He used his hand to crush the notepads and pens into the bottom of the can before hearing Betty approaching behind him, two bags swishing in both arms, and he quickly turned to start unpacking the groceries.
“I’m thinking about soup tonight, what do you think?” Betty chirped as she set down the last of the bags.
Hulk hummed agreeably, putting vegetables on the counter next to the dent from earlier.
Soup sounded nice, especially after spending so much time straining his vocal cords. Hulk ducked his head at the reminder, grabbing at his own throat briefly. Those hours were like a blur now.
Betty caught the movement and immediately walked over to him, throwing her arms around his waist and looking up at him.
“I can wrap up here, why don’t you go lay down, baby? Soup involves lots of sitting around waiting anyway.”
Hulk nodded reluctantly and ground out an okay before stumbling back to their bedroom, Betty’s concerned gaze following behind him.
She began peeling the potatoes for the soup and as she was dumping the peels into the garbage the notebook paper caught her eye.
Her name was written unsteadily on the top piece of paper, and curious, she bent over to retrieve the note.
Betty felt tears well as she laid them all out.
There were—so many. At least fifteen.
He had, he was trying to—
“Oh, Bruce…”
She almost never called him that to his face, because the broken look that always appeared on it afterwards, but it was so clear, so obvious to her, especially now, with these notes, that he was the man she had fallen in love with all of those years ago.
Her sweet, gentle, shy—Bruce.
She still had the note he gave her, tucked away with the photos of her mother and other trinkets, the one where he first admitted his love to her.
She quickly gathered her resolve, wiping her tears from her face and pushing back the thought of him getting so distraught at not being able to write her a love note that he turned into the screaming, pained creature she found in the woods only a little while earlier.
She wanted to run to the bedroom and tell him that it didn’t matter, that the fact that he even tried meant so much to her, but she realized that it would only further his distress at this point. She had to fix it, in a way that wouldn’t make him feel guilty any more.
She formulated her plan and quickly finished all of her soup preparations, calling to Hulk to tell him that she forgot to pick something at the store and she would be right back.
At his muffled grunt of assent she quickly grabbed her keys and jumped in her car.
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“I’m back!” she called, dropping her package on the kitchen table and going over to check on the soup.
“And dinner’s ready!” she said after tasting it.
She heard a creaking sound as he extricated himself from the bed and large, shuffling footfalls as he made his way in the kitchen. She heard his sharp inhale and turned to look. His eyes were wide and staring at the failed attempts at letters on the floor with something akin to horror. His eyes flitted from the letters to her and back and he visibly deflated, one hand moving to cover his face.
“I got a present for you!” she sang, “It’s on the table.”
Hulk was still frozen at the doorway, but peeked between his fingers to the table before slowly lowering his hand, then walking over to it.
“Betty… Y-You weren’t… supposed to see those.” His voice sounded defeated.
“I figured that from the way that you tried to compress them in the bottom of the can.” She grinned softly.
“I think they’re beautiful, baby. But, I thought if we were going to start leaving notes to each other that I might make it a bit easier for you,” she said without looking over her shoulder at him, ladling soup into a large bowl.
She heard the crinkling of plastic bags being sorted through behind her, and heard him gasp again.
Suddenly, she was wrapped up in big, green arms.
“Thank you,” came his tremulous voice.
He repeated it over and over, holding her tightly to him.
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The next morning Betty rolled out of bed at the sound of her alarm, blearily hitting the snooze button. She looked back to the bed, Hulk’s side vacated as usual for his early morning stroll.
She quickly got dressed, pulling her long dark hair back into a ponytail and grabbing her satchel full of lab notes on her way to the kitchen. She stopped at the doorway, a stunned smile slowly crawling over her face at the sight awaiting her.
In big, unsteady print, Hulk had left her a note with the extra large sketchpad and two foot long novelty pencil she had gotten for him.
“HAVE A GREAT DAY AT WORK—BREAKFAST IN OVEN.”
Betty pulled out the eggs and toast that he had prepared for her, affectionate grin still spread across her face as she set her food down on the counter and reached into her bag for her pad of sticky notes.