Inside Voices ▷ Bruce Banner | ✓

8 - INTRODUCTIONS

SHE HAD SLEPT FOR TWO DAYS. She wasn't aware it had been two days, of course, but when she did finally wake, it was as if she was a person she didn't recognize, and it had taken her much too long to remember where she was, her heart racing as she sat up, looking around the room that was much different than what her room in the facility was, only to remember all that had happened to her, the memories flooding back so painfully that her head began to throb.

She didn't remember everything, of course, but she did remember how she wound up in the room she was in, though it was much different than she remembered it to be. Now, it had a TV and a desk and her closet was open to reveal so many clothes that weren't there before.

When she moved, it was as if she was in another body, her movements and actions so different than what they used to be, both unfocused and more focused, acting on her own, yet as if she was different, and it was then that she realized that the only piece of her that was there was the piece of her that had given up so long ago.

She stayed there, burrowed under her covers, for what felt like hours, though in reality was no more than five minutes, staring at the black screen of the TV, her room so cold, yet her blankets so warm, not that she wanted the temperature raised.

She didn't understand what she was thinking, as it was as if she wasn't thinking at all. In truth, she wasn't hyperfocused, calculating to the point of constant thinking. Rather, she was constantly thinking, but at a rate different than what she was used to, unable to fall into line of it all.

She could feel herself breaking from the inside out.

She took a deep breath, beginning to climb out of the bed, only to freeze, her entire body seizing violently. She couldn't even scream, feeling the searing pain that was quickly becoming much too familiar overtaking her, causing her to fall off the bed onto the ground, unable to move her limbs, bent in such a way that, when the pain finally left, she was still in major pain, twisted in such a way that her body didn't want, similar to twisting her foot the wrong way.

When she finally untangled herself from the heap she had fallen into, her legs were shaking and her cheeks were stained with involuntary tears, her entire body shaking.

Making her way to her closet, she reached out with shaking hands, sifting through the clothes, trying to understand what she was feeling now that her senses were that of a regular person's, taking off Bruce's sweater and shorts, putting on another large sweater and shorts, only different.

She liked that the sweater only touched her in certain places, because while her body was now fully detoxed, she wasn't sure what she liked to be touched or not, so at least she had options, the sleeves running farther down her arms because the sweater was bigger than it needed to be.

She thought back to Bruce who was only an inch taller than her, wondering why his sweaters were so big. It didn't make sense to her as to why someone would wear ill-fitting clothes, especially ones that would only get in the way.

Taking a deep breath, she made her way to the door, testing it, surprised to find it unlocked, stepping out carefully, looking down the hall on either side, wondering where she was supposed to go, trying and failing to remember which room Bruce's was.

Then she heard footsteps behind her, which stopped a ways away. 

She turned slowly, finding Clint Barton standing there with a lollipop in his mouth, readjusting something in his ears. He pulled the lollipop out of his mouth, waving it in greeting as he spoke carefully. 

"Hey, how's it going? I'm Clint. You still hopped up on drugs?" he asked, and she shook her head, because there wasn't much else she could do, and he gave her a small smile, "How're you holding up?"