Shoulders sore.
Stomach doing flips.
Mouth dry.
Can’t feel my toes.
Where the hell am I?
Bruce flutters his heavy eyes open. The nasty, nauseous feeling lingers from the fifty round of sedatives. He attempts to determine his location, however the single light above him makes it extremely difficult to see anything farther than a foot.
Fingers and toes wiggle within a warm, sticky climate. He attempts to stretch out both hands, only to come to realize his hands are locked within a sturdy container. Attempting to roll his ankles, he finds the same situation for his feet.
There is little room for movement. Perhaps he could roll his neck and wiggle his hips, yet beyond that is impossible. A stinging sensation erupts from his left inner elbow; a cant of his head and he peers at the two IVs within his arm - one is definitely sedatives, he thinks to himself, and concludes the second one to be nutrients to keep him alive.
Bruce lowers his head, catching the sky blue scrubs that have been adorned on his body. If he had enough energy he would chuckle drily.
After establishing his whereabouts in this obvious disclosed SHIELD facility, he thinks back to the events right before his unconsciousness.
Cleaning out HYDRA facility.
Hulk found something - what was it - caution - biohazard symbol - what was it?
Dancing flashlights play in his head. Heavy footfalls hit the water.
Hulk is distracted, he can’t locate the information. Someone is talking, asking him what he’s doing here. Hulk’s frustrated, he yells.
Rounds of gunfire resonate in his mind. He flinches, throwing his head back.
Dammit! Hulk, you fool! You protected yourself!! - You ran, you ran away, you scared fool!! That’s when -
A tone of voice he could not remember, yet he remembers the words clearly.
“Citizens of New York. This is HYDRA. Our Bioweapon of Mass Destruction has been unleashed by our compatriot, Hulk. This bioweapon will wipe out the entire city of New York, perhaps even reach the state borders. Hulk, if you are listening to this, your work will not go unpaid.”
HYDRA is framing me. Must have kept track of everything. Why didn’t they stop me before - too much time, effort, afraid?
That’s it, that’s all I remember.
“Hulk, you damned fool.”
From above the intercom screeches. Bruce jerks his head up, searching through the blinding light for a window, a face, a source. He can’t see, he can’t locate the room where they are watching him. He grits his teeth, the minute amount of irritation rolling in him. Suddenly, he feels sluggish -
Keeping track of my heart rate, increasing sedatives. Damn.
“400 are dead, and the death toll rapidly climbs. It’s only been an hour.”
Bruce’s stomach drops.
Four hundred dead
Because of the Hulk
Because of me.
Guilt crashes on his shoulders. Suddenly, he feels his body becoming increasing heavily. He shuts his eyes, lolling his head down, gritting his teeth as much as he can.
“This shouldn’t have happened.”
Every hour, the death toll is updated and every hour, Bruce’s body becomes heavier. By the third hour, the death toll had reached 1800 and continued to climb.
