Invisible To You (A Bruce Banner Love Story)

Chapter Nineteen - Understanding

        I was sitting on the couch in the living room of the tower with my knees drawn up to my chest, staring into space. The girls were still asleep in their room even though it was already eight am. They had a late night. Meanwhile, I hadn't slept at all. I had called Casey when I had gotten back to my room, and she was frantic. She had been yelling and panicky, but not in the way I expected. She had sounded like she was in the room with people, and I know that if I call that she goes somewhere private. On top of that, she said she would be down here in a few hours. She couldn't be. She would have to find a plane from Malibu to New York instantly to do that, which was impossible.

        "Are you okay?" I tilt my head up to see Bruce standing there, mug of tea in hand. He looked like he hadn't gotten much sleep either. I slowly shake my head before letting my chin go back to resting on my knees, back to my thoughts. The sudden dip on the cushion next to me on the couch alerts me to the fact that Bruce hadn't left. We sit in the silence of the early morning. Neither one of us daring to say a word, while outside the sun rises and New York begins to wake up.

        "Bruce?" My voice cracks slightly as I whisper his name out.

        "Hm?"

        "What would you do?" I ask quietly. "If you had a secret you couldn't tell anyone? And the one person you didn't want finding out discovered it?" I don't hear anything for a few seconds, and I turn my head slightly to look at him. He's sitting there, and I can tell he's thinking.

        "I've been there." He says, just as quiet. "When I became the Hulk. When I first ran." He went quiet.

        "Did you feel like.... like..." I couldn't form the words. "Like no matter how fast, or how hard, or how far you ran it wouldn't stop them? That they would always come back and be there in the back of your mind? Waiting?" It was quiet again. Bruce shifted on the couch.

        "I do." He says. Looking down at his feet. "All the time."

        "I hate it." Both of our voices are still in whispers. "I hate that I can't tell anyone. I hate that I can't get away from him. I hate that I never feel safe." A tear that I had been holding back slips from my eye. That one single solitary tear. "I hate it." I repeat, pressing my face into my knees again, unable to look at him. I knew what was coming next. He was going to ask me what I was hiding. Who was coming.

        But he didn't. What he did surprised me. I felt two strong arms wrap around me, and I look up as Bruce pulls me next to him. And that's when I realized that he understood completely. He knew exactly what I was talking about. I rest my head on his shoulder, letting another few traitorous tears slip through my closed eyes. They landed on his shirt, staining it, but he didn't move away or push me back. We sit there until my silent tears stop and the people in the city below begin to stir.

        "Thank you." My voice is hoarse.

        "For what?" He asks, and I sit up slightly and turn to look him in the eye.

        "Understanding." I'm looking him in the eye, and I see that he realizes the same thing. That we both finally found someone else who understood. The pain and the constant fear. Having to hide it.

        I don't know which of us leaned in first. Whether it was me or Bruce, it didn't matter, because suddenly we were both slowly inching forward. I could feel his hot breath mingling with my own, and his lips a centimeter away from mine, and I realized that I did have feelings for Bruce. His quietness, his shyness, his determination. All of it. My eyelids flutter closed as he starts to close the gap -

        "Rose?" Bruce and I both jerk back out of our stupor, our eyes snapping open as the small voice calls from the hall. We both just sort of look at each other as the sound of padding feet come closer and closer. I finally break his gaze, turning to look at the door while at the same time moving myself away from Bruce.

        "Y-Yeah?" I manage to get out. "I'm in the living room." Em walks into the room, her pj's askew and her hair tangled in a horrid case of bedhead.

        "I'm hungry." Her soft voice says. I'm tempted to laugh. Bruce and I had our moment broken up by a five year old's desire for pancakes. My typical freaking luck.

        "Alright. Let's go to the kitchen and make something, okay?" Em nods tiredly and turns back through the door to go to the kitchen. I turn back to Bruce, who hasn't taken his eyes off of me. My mind begins to struggle as his chocolate brown eyes meet mine again, reason vs. personal feelings.

        The choice is made for me when Em calls out again, wondering why I wasn't following her.