Avengers Stories //Oneshots//

Green Dream

Warnings: self deprecating thoughts and a bit of violence

Bruce Banner was not a man who believed that dreams could show you your goals or greatest accomplishments. He did not believe they were just manifestations of the mind. No, he believed that like the eyes, they were windows into the soul. They showed who you could be, good or bad.

He had not yet had a dream of him being good.

His dream were shrouded in anger, fear, agitation, and regret. The regret was from the human concious of his. The rest.... you know the answer.

They were all the emotions he kept hidden throughout the day pouring out into his mind as the dam broke. Night after night, with a rare exception, he would have dreams that were incoherent at best and terrifying at the worst. Destruction. Hate. Fear. They boiled over into restless sleep that left him with tired eyes and a heavy heart.

On rare nights of peaceful sleep, he wakes up with the rage of the other guy stirring in his gut. He at least had more peaceful nights now that he was at Stark Tower with a team that (mostly) trusted him to keep himself under control. The only person who seemed to not was Romanoff, and the only person who acted freely around him was a certain Anthony Edward Stark. A genius who was everything Bruce wasn't.

Bruce and he were currently in the lab, lazily looking over schematics with tired eyes. They had been up for maybe thirty six hours, with Bruce hoping exhaustion would cause him to have a good night and Tony... Bruce didn't know what his motives for staying up so long were. He just did that.

Finally, when the holograms were beginning to blur together, Bruce stood and stretched. He cracked his aching back for what felt like the millionth time, it being stiff from the hours of sitting pretty much still.

"I think I'm going to turn in for the night, Tony," the mousy haired man said, rubbing a hand down his face. He felt eerily calm and his hopes were beginning to rise further for a nightmare free night.

The other genius only grunted in response, swiping at a hologram with one hand and downing a surely cold coffee with the other. He only called a "goodnight!" Over his shoulder right before the doors to the lab closed as Bruce exited. He hoped he would have a good night.

The scientist opted for the stairs instead of elevator. Something about climbing each step with precision was further calming to his brain and might benefit his sleep tonight, but it also meant he heard the laughs of other team members down the hall toward the common room.

They were happily watching a movie, colorful lights jumping off the wall. Even Natasha was smiling at his passed by the door way, listening as Clint told a joke he'd said a million times.

Tony and him usually deviated away from team bonding. Bruce didn't know Tony's reasons, but he knew his own.

He was dangerous.

A monster who could hurt the team.

He might be a calm doctor on the outside, but on the inside he had a boiling rage that was not his own, ready to tip if he let his control slip for just a moment. And, sometimes, even when he held on as tight as he could to himself, the other guy still broke free.

He felt a stirring in his gut and quickly moved along toward his room, on the next floor above. The steps did not calm him and anger continued to boil. He could feel the green rage monster pushing against him.

"Not now," he thought fiercely.

"You're upset," the other guy replied in the back of his mind.

That had started happening more recently. Tony encouraged him to try and talk to the Hulk, and he did. It might have been the cause for less restless nights, but Bruce didn't exactly have enough evidence to prove that.