|Anton Sparke is Captain Jack (cantstartafire) wrote in doorslogs,|
@ 2012-06-02 02:06:00
|Entry tags:||door: marvel comics, hulk|
Who: Bruce Banner
What: Back in New York - AKA Jeannie is going to spam with narratives
Where: His apartment in New York
Warnings: Emo Hulk? lulz. brb doing a google image search for emo Hulk. lol guys look what I found
Bruce knew that Anton was pissed back in Las Vegas about what had happened. And he couldn't blame him. Hell, he was pissed too. It had turned out okay for the Hulk in the end, but people had been put in danger. Serious property damage. Pretty much everything that went along with being the Hulk.
Once the Hulk had calmed down in Anton's mind Bruce had tried to apologize but Anton wasn't really hearing it from him right then. He tried to stay quiet where he was, but truthfully he needed to get home. So he asked, and against all odds and better judgment Anton agreed. If anything it was just to get him out of his hair for a while. He didn't know and didn't care. But he was grateful. Anton was surprisingly quiet and Bruce took that to mean staying and relaxing was the best thing any of them could do. He didn't go to his lab, he didn't contact anyone (though he wanted to). He was going to just lay low for a bit.
He unlocked his apartment door, he hadn't actually slept here or spent time in here in weeks and it was dusty and stuffy. He turned on the air conditioner to get the air moving again and flopped down on his couch almost immediately. That had been a bad thing that had happened in Las Vegas. Between Hulk demolishing the strip and playing zombie baseball with Superman, there was the added concern of the night back at Passages, Bruce never let himself get that upset. He never let himself get that angry and mean. He couldn't afford to. Issues or no, that had been terrifying. He didn't want to feel like that ever again. Sure it was a bit cathartic being that horrible without turning into the Hulk, but he was not anxious to continue down that line of thought.
After a few minute he kicked his shoes off and put his feet on the couch and laid down using the pillow comfortably and his forearm covered his eyes. He'd gotten too trustworthy of himself, he'd gotten too complacent. Sure the situation could hardly be planned for, but that was life. Their lives were a series of unplanned events and he needed to be prepared for all of them. Bruce knew that Hulk wasn't bad. He was just...A mess. A complete and utter mess. He was tired, and his body ached. It seemed Anton had absorbed a lot of the after effects of being Hulk, but Bruce was feeling them now. And he was feeling old. He was meant to be making a better impression on Steve and Tony and everyone else. He was meant to be convincing them that he wasn't a complete danger to society. And it had been working. It had been God damn working and then this happened. Every time the Hulk made a mess of something it was in Bruce's best interest (and instinct by now) to hide out. If they went looking for him they'd likely start at the lab. It would take them a while to find out where his apartment was. He was hoping that wouldn't be the case but if he was going to have to run. He needed some sleep. Even if he was sure sleeping the night on the couch in the state he was in would likely turn directly into another bad night. But he would take his chances.