AVENGERS PREFERENCES AND ONE-SHOTS

45 | Bruce Banner : "I Don't Hate You"

BRUCE BANNER IMAGINE
REQUESTED BY: Find_Blue
( i changed it a little, but it has the same sentiment! i hope you like it! )
WORDS: 957

The labratory in the Avengers' facility had a rather extravagantly beautiful view, you had to admit. You weren't sure why one would need that kind of ambiance while studying algorithms, or cells, or whatever they did in that place.

You did, however, suppose it was a nice view to focus on instead of acknowledging the awkward silence you and Bruce were sitting in.

After an unfortunate accident during training the day before, you were being forced to stay home from a mission the others were going on. Bruce wasn't really needed on it, so you were the only people in the entire facility together. It should've been fine because of how big it was, but Steve had put rather strict instructions in place that Bruce was to take care of you while you healed.

He tended to your wounds every once in a while, but the rest of the time, a heavy silence settled onto the expanse room, filling up the high ceilings and crushing your chest.

You and Bruce had never been good friends. You didn't click upon meeting like the others, and he always seemed so tense and closed off around you. You weren't particularly compatible, so you guessed he just didn't really like you.

Every time you shifted in the space you held on one of the many counters, you could see his eyes on you in his peripheral. You could see the way he'd sigh in annoyance, or clench his jaw before moving along with his work.

Staring at the way your legs swung beneath you as you sat, you noticed the mug of tea that was placed down beside you out of the corner of your eye. "Thanks," You said to Bruce, vision meeting his for a moment, before he looked away. "Do you need help with anything?"

"No," He shook his head plainly, "Besides, you shouldn't be flexing your arm too much for the next few weeks."

You nodded in return, but before he could move back to work in silence again, you blurted a question that startled him, "Why do you hate me?"

With raised eyebrows, he contemplated your words, coffee mug resting next to yours as he paused his actions. He swallowed, "I don't hate you."

"Then you don't like me?" You suggested instead, watching as he dragged a hand through his tangled hair.

"No, it's not that. It's just . . ." Bruce was a man of few words, but he was articulate. He spoke with forethought, but in front of you, answering that question, he didn't quite know what to say. "I don't know."

You snorted in reply, seemingly shocking him, "Is that really all you can say? You've barely spoken to me since I joined the team months ago."

Sighing, his eyes couldn't seem to find yours. "Listen, (Y/n). I don't dislike you, never mind hate you. I . . . remember those days in the beginning?" He paused, and you thought back to when you'd first met each other.

You'd tried really hard to make him like you, and while you thought it was working, he soon closed off. It hurt a lot, you had to admit, because during those short few days, you'd come to like him. Over the years, you forgot that, however, and made sure that the way he treated you was mutual.

Taking the look on your face as recognition, he began again, "I . . . I really liked you. And I don't know why I'm telling you this, but I really saw myself being with you in the future."

Confused, and plainly surprised by his words, you couldn't help the sudden feeling of anxiousness that filled your chest for the conversation that was about to happen. You had to admit that you'd felt the same, but that still didn't warrant what he'd done afterwards. It made no sense. "Then why . . .?"

"(Y/n), everyone I've ever loved before has left me, or I've hurt them - I couldn't - I can't have that happen to you. I distance myself from the people I feel the most for," He finally admitted.

The look on his face was heart-wrenching as he peered up at you, gentle brown eyes meeting yours.

"Bruce," Your hand reached out to hold his, and he didn't pull away, he simply allowed himself to soften at your touch, and your gentle saying of his name. "You can't live like this forever. You're a hero, and so am I - getting hurt, and having the people around us hurt, is something we need to accept. Because we go out every day and risk our lives . . . and we save a lot of people. The positives outweigh the negatives. What I'm trying to say is . . . love is a positive that will always outweigh everything else. Always."

His lips parted, and he found himself wondering why he'd ever distanced himself from you like that. You were perfect, and everything he'd ever hoped for in a person. And you were so, so right that it nearly hurt. You tugged him towards you, and he buried his face in your neck as you held each other tight. His hands twisted into your shirt as he repeated onto your words in your head over and over again.

Your hand drifted up to his hair, fingers rifting through it for a moment, before you paused, and left a gentle kiss on the top of his head. "You deserve a lot better than to be alone."

Bruce sighed into you, his chest filling with a fondness that he hadn't precedented before. He knew your words were true, and now he just had to make himself believe he was worth them.