"Bruce?"
The eyes of the man in question shot open and his head snapped up. This interruption was not wanted.
Hulk wanted out. Hulk wanted to smash! Hulk wanted to find the humans who'd hurt his cousin and teach them not to do it again.
Bruce'd been able to keep the Hulk at bay all through the time that he'd been working on saving his cousin, Jennifer's, life in the pharmacy and through the ambulance ride to the nearest hospital. He'd even been able to keep the transformation under control after the doors to surgery had been closed in his face and he'd been forbidden from following. His hands had been shaking when he'd gone to the nearest bathroom to clean up, to wash Jennifer's blood from his hands and to change into a shirt that wasn't soaked red.
But Hulk's urge for revenge surged forth after he'd returned to the waiting room and it was all Bruce could do to calm the other guy down. And that's what he'd been doing, concentrating on his breathing, trying to exclude every distraction around him.
And now he was being interrupted!
A single glance was enough to take in the uniform of a Los Angeles County Sherriff, badge and all, and once again Hulk surged forth, intent on getting free. His heart racing faster than ever, Bruce groped for his bag beside his chair. Unzipping it, he searched for the special box that Harry'd given him just before he headed off to Brazil.
Finding it, he pulled it out, instantly snapping it open. Inside lay half a dozen vials of some concoction that Bruce'd never been able to figure out. Ignoring his trepidation at taking something unknown, his shaky hands pulled one forth, uncorked it and upended it into his mouth.
And then it was his whole body shuddering at the vile taste. A shuddering that only lasted a few seconds as the 'calming potion' took effect. Almost instantly, Bruce's heartrate and breathing slowed and he felt a peace, a calmness, descend on his mind. And Hulk, Hulk retreated like he'd never done before.
Lowering the vile, Bruce stared at it in wonder. He'd been resisting taking one of these magical potions for so long and now, for the life of him, he couldn't work out why.
"Thank you, Harry," he whispered.
"Bruce?" the voice, the Sherriff, repeated.
This time when Bruce looked up, he was able to focus on the individual instead of the uniform.
"Uncle William?" Bruce returned in wonder.
"I thought that was you," William Walters smiled. "It's good to see you lad. What's it been ten, twelve years?"
"Not since Aunt Elaine's funeral," Bruce replied grimly.
"Ah, yes," William replied, an instant air of the past settling between the pair before the older of the two managed to shake it off. "I'm told that you saved Jennifer's life? I didn't even know you were in town."
"I only just arrived," Bruce replied with a shake of his head. "It was pure luck that I heard Jennifer's screams. Didn't even know it was her."
"But you found her. You saved her. She's alive," William said, falling heavily into the chair beside Bruce's.
"I did what I had to," Bruce replied, his mind instantly replaying the image of his blood flowing down the tube to enter his cousin's arm.
Exactly what the consequences were going to be for that was anyone's guess.
"And I'm grateful," William said, squeezing Bruce's shoulder. "She's alive because of you. Whatever brought you here, I'm glad."
Bruce's smile was more grimace, but his uncle didn't seem to notice.
"Are you going to be in town long? Do you have some place to stay?" William asked.
"Actually, I was just on my way out of town," Bruce replied.
"But I thought that you said that you'd just arrived?" a confused-sounding William asked.
"I did. I'd heard that one of my friends was in trouble. He lives … lived in Malibu," Bruce explained. "But just after I got here, I heard that he moved to New York."
"And you plan on heading there to make sure that he's alright," William supplied. "You're a good friend, Bruce. But surely a day or two won't matter? I know Jennifer'll want to see you, to thank you at the very least. And there's a spare bed at my place, you know that."
"Thanks, Uncle William," Bruce smiled; sleeping in a real bed, even if only for a single night would be a luxury that he hadn't had in quite some time. "I think I'd like that."
ooo00ooo
Bruce eased himself into the hospital wing his cousin had been assigned, quickly checking that he was alone. Well, alone except for the unconscious young woman lying on the bed.
After closing the door behind him, Bruce crossed to the end of Jennifer's bed. She was nearly motionless, only the soft rise and fall of her chest and the beeping of the machines that she was attached to giving any indication that she was still alive. A breathing tube was taped to her mouth and IV's extended from both arms. Currently, her sheet was only covering the bottom half of her, allowing Bruce to see the thick bandages that covered her midriff peeking out from her pyjama top.
After taking a last almost guilty look about the empty room, Bruce plucked her file from the holder attached to the foot of her bed and began reading.
After Jennifer'd finished her marathon four-hour surgery, the lead doctor had come out to tell the two waiting men that she'd survived and that she'd make a full recovery. Unfortunately, that recovery was expected to take many, many weeks, if not months.
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