UNKNOWN GUEST

#57 Not My Business?

A few hours had passed, and I began to realize what a jerk I had been. I sighed, shaking my head. What had clouded my mind? Anger and frustration. It made me snap at everyone who crossed my path. And it hit me—Bruce Banner needs frustration and anger to turn into the Hulk. If I could lose my cool like that, it's no wonder he struggles with controlling his anger. I sighed again, standing in front of the door to his room.

I knocked softly, "Dr. Banner?" No response. I tried again, "Dr. Banner, it's Jason. Can I come in?"

This time, I heard a faint, "Sure."

I sighed, pushing the door open. As I walked in, I saw him sitting in a chair beside the bed, wearing a loose shirt and looking utterly devastated. I approached him slowly. He was avoiding my eyes, and honestly, I was doing the same.

I hesitated before starting, "Uh... I... I'm really sorry, Dr. Banner."

He glanced at me, just a quick look. I nodded, trying to convey how much I meant it. "I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have said what I did."

He shook his head, "No, no. I... I deserve that. I hurt someone."

I shook my head, "You haven't."

He paused, thinking over my words. I sighed, wanting to make it clear, "You didn't hurt her."

He looked down, a deep sadness in his voice. "My other form hurt her. Which is me."

I sighed again, feeling the weight of his guilt. "No. You didn't mean to, nor did your other form. Dr. Banner, you say your other form is the worst, but even in your worst form, you try to do something good."

His eyes met mine, searching for the truth in my words. I nodded, "You never intend to hurt anyone. You just lose control of your anger, which is normal for anyone, like me just hours ago. Our range is just smaller. Everyone shows the anger they've hidden inside."

He fell quiet, reflecting on what I said. I decided to say it again, just to make sure he knew I meant it. "I'm sorry again."

He looked up at me, his expression softening, "It's okay. I needed this."

I nodded, feeling a bit lighter as we exchanged a small, understanding smile. "Me too."

Author's POV-

Clint gently placed a pillow under Natasha's neck. "Here," he said softly.

Natasha sighed in relief as she adjusted herself slightly. "Did they say how long this will be here?" she asked, gesturing towards the cast on her wrist.

Clint nodded and took a seat beside her bed. "Probably around three to four weeks," he replied.

Natasha rolled her eyes with a resigned sigh. But as she looked at Clint, she noticed something was off. "What's wrong?" she asked, her voice laced with concern.

Clint shook his head, trying to play it off. "It's nothing. Just a bit of an argument back and forth outside."

She raised an eyebrow, her curiosity piqued. "What argument? When?"

Clint hesitated, exhaling slowly. "Just a few hours ago."

Natasha's frustration grew as she pressed him for details. "Will you tell me clearly, Clint?"

Clint finally gave in with another sigh. "It's Jason."

Her eyes widened slightly, concern evident in her voice. "Jason? What about him? Is he okay?"

Clint nodded quickly, wanting to reassure her. "He's fine. Just... he had an argument with Banner and Stark."

Natasha stared at him, waiting for more of an explanation. Clint continued, "Well... he snapped at Banner, told him to stay away from you."