Simon Lewis and The Avengers

Bruce Knows

Simon distracted himself from his fear of discovery and what would happen afterwards by dusting off his video gaming skills.

"Dude, how?" Clint exclaimed after Simon beat him once again.

"You're not so bad yourself. What can I say? I learn fast." Simon leaned back in victory.

"You run fast too, huh?" Clint continued trying to interview him. "I mean, no offence, but you don't look much above a fanboy."

Simon would have been hurt by that a while back, but the small feeling of normality, even the accidental one, was embracing.

"None taken. I figure it was an adrenaline rush sort of thing, I heard of fight or flight reflexes at school. I guess it was that. Or maybe its the same as Captain America's situation - hey, how did he become so super-human?" Simon waffled.

"Its a long story. Very doubtful it applies to you."

Simon shrugged, "'We playing another round?" Simon looked over at Clint pleadingly.

"Simon." Bruce entered the room, wearing a purple sweater and his thick-rimmed glasses poking over his mussed-up hair. It was hard to believe that this fellow nerd, clutching his clipboard was the incredible hulk. "Are you up for a check-up?"

"Not particularly." Simon returned, truthfully.

"Its routine, and it won't take 5 minutes." Bruce assured him, Simon couldn't see a way out so he stood up.

"Fine." He groaned, following Bruce to his office.

"Should I wait?" Clint asked.

"Don't bother." Simon continued after Bruce.

---

The lab-like room was big, its walls and floors were entirely made up of metal which Simon guessed was either for the hulk or mad experiments.

Bruce gestured to a desk, which he cleared the papers off of, and Simon sat on. Bruce sat on a swivel chair and started with the questioning.

"Are you diagnosed with anything?" He shuffled his papers orderly.

"I haven't been to a check-up in a while. . . does being Jewish count?" Simon asked. Bruce laughed breathily.

"No."

"Does being vegetarian count?"

"No."

"Anxiety?"

"Yes, actually." Bruce scribbled it down on his clipboard.

"Would it be too far to ask why?"

"I don't think it was really caused by anything besides the usual high school pecking order of nerds being at the bottom of the food chain. My mother screaming at me didn't help in the least." Simon shifted uncomfortably, keeping most of the pain out of his voice at such a sensitive topic.

"Can I take your pulse?" Bruce pulled his stethoscope from around his neck. Simon's eyes widened in fear, his brain was on red alert. Sirens sounded throughout his body. If his heart was still alive, it would be racing. "It might be a little cold but I'll need you to raise your shirt."

Simon felt his pancakes finally making the return trip. Bruce was warming the stethoscope and wheeling forward. It was too late, there was no turning back.

He shakily scrunched up his shirt over his head. This is not going to go well. And then the metal was against his pale, veined skin. It was apparent Bruce had expected at least a shiver from the non-feeling vampire through the pulling up of his eyebrows and the lengthened stare on Simon, who had turned away. His eyebrows knitted in concentration, adjusting the position of the stethoscope. Simon felt nervousness unfurling in his stomach, along with his breakfast.

"You're dead." Bruce dropped his instrument and firmly gripped Simon's wrist, trying desperately to find his pulse.

"Yep." Simon twisted his hands anxiously, wondering if his strength could accidentally break his hand-bones, and then how quickly they would heal so he could break them again.

"What are you?" Bruce stood up and back from Simon, his fear like a slap to the face.

"A vampire." Simon said shakily. He was ashamed to say tears burnt the backs of his eyes, manly tears.

Bruce took a step back, trying to calm himself down. Simon moved to stop him from leaving, reaching his hand out. He decided against the sudden movement and drew his hand back, allowing the hulk to split if need be. "I don't drink human blood, I swear, I drink animal blood from bottles. I would never hurt anyone intentionally. Please. Please don't hate me or tell anyone so they can hate me as my mother does. Please." Simon begged Bruce, who managed to get his green rage monster under control.

"I don't hate you." Bruce breathed, stepping forward again, this would have been when Simon let out a sigh of relief. "I know what its like to feel exposed, like a nerve. I can relate, so your secret is safe with me, for as long as you can get away with it." Simon's nausea didn't leave him, despite the sense of acceptance spreading through his heart.

"Thanks." Simon clutched his stomach, trying to show his appreciation. "Another thing about vampires: we can't really eat food. So. . ."

Bruce got the hint and his eyes widened. Hastily, he picked up a bucket and brought it for Simon to throw up in. His body lurched and emptied of pancakes and most blood, instantly dizzying him. The need to feed was starting to nag him. He pushed it from his mind momentarily.

"Sorry." Bruce sat across from Simon, staring worriedly. Simon held his head in agony.

"For what?" He croaked.

"I fed you those-"

"No. This isn't on you, you're the first encouraging mundane I've met." Simon tried to hear over his migraine.

"Well, whatever a mundane is, I hope you can come to me whenever you need help."

Simon nodded. "Thanks." He stumbled up, "I should go, what are you going to do with the bin of blood?"

"I'll find a way to get rid of it. You, rest."