tushanshu | 20 ❄ ( VIDEO )

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20 ❄ ( VIDEO )

[ Jack's voice is quiet, nearly monotone and there are dark hollows under his eyes. ]

There's something you should know about the snow in the open areas between the domes. Some of the snow I make has magic in it, and what it does is make people more open to loosening up and playing around in it. It has to do with my center being Fun, it was never intended to hurt anyone but... it did.

Even though this time was an accident... it was also in the big snowfall last March. If you spent a lot of time outside that weekend, you probably got at least a little dose of it. A couple people already knew about this but I'm the one who should have said something before this. Long before, I was just--

I've already tried to break as much of the effect as I can between the three main domes, it should be mostly clear now and back to regular snow.

[ Which might explain the ill effect it seems to have had on him; he's been literally trying to undo the very essence of himself he expended into it. He takes a breath as though to add something else then apparently thinks better of it, reaching over and turning the console off. ]

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I'm sure I want to try. And it's not your fault if it doesn't work.

[Bruce is firm on that. But he has a suspicion that it will work; so far it seems like the Hulk's immunity doesn't extend to emotional effects induced by mystical means. He's just hoping it'll cheer Jack up, as much as he's hoping to have another safeguard. It reminds him of his efforts to keep Tony on a baseline, doing things at a guess and hoping they'll work.]

I'll come to you.

All right. I'll be here.

[Bruce doesn't waste any time-- he heads over directly, wondering if he's doing the right thing. But it's too late to back out now.

It's not long before he knocks on the freezer door he'd installed for Jack, reflexively looking over it to make sure it's still functioning properly. Sometimes it's just impossible to turn his work brain off.]

[ Jack answers the door a moment later, still quiet and pensive as he steps back to allow Bruce entrance. Baby Tooth is perched nearby, keeping a watchful eye on the spirit. ]

Hey. So... how did you want to...

[He's already bundled up for the cold outside, so it's not a noticeable change to step in, Bruce sparing Jack a short glance to see how he looks in person. Not any better. Well, here's hoping.]

Right in here is fine, [he says simply, before pausing.] This could be a big help if it works.

[ Jack nods, gesturing so that Bruce might sit. He won't put the request off but it seems kind of strange to just stand in the doorway for it. Once the man is settled Jack crouches opposite him, takes a deep breath and nods to show he's ready.

Pale fingers weave through the air, calling up specks of snow and shining light, eventually forming together to make a large snowflake. He cups it, shifting it around his hand like a handful of water. Then with a careful flick of his hand, he sends it towards Bruce where it poofs into specks that feel pleasantly cool, even in the chilled room. ]

[Bruce has himself braced to try to contain his reaction. He has a vague idea of what the effects will be, but no way of truly knowing until it happens.

It's completely futile. He thinks in theory that feeling more positive will help stave off the Hulk, maybe be a good supplementary method to grim control, but he's forgotten in the long hollow doggedness of his life what it's like to feel it. He'd had moments with Betty like this, he does remember them, but memory takes on such a faded hue with age that it's become enshrined. It's nothing to the experience.

His eyes widen, and laughter spills out of his mouth before he can contain it, not the rusty rueful laugh he occasionally indulges in but genuine pleasure. Bruce is gasping a moment later, overcome by a sense of lightness that, even with Betty, he doesn't recall ever feeling before. There's always some looming specter darkening his sense of security.

It says something, really, that feeling uncomplicated joy is unstringing him so thoroughly.

Bruce hides his face in his hand, rubbing it as he breathes.] I'm fine, [he mutters, almost dizzily.] I'm fine. I just-- Jesus. I haven't felt like that in... I don't know. [He's too out of it to monitor what he's saying, blindly checking internally for some kind of gauge about how it's affected his control.]

I think it works, [he says, astonished, lifting his face. He's light and hopeful, feeling the effects of the snowflake.] It's, it's almost too much but I think it works.

[ Jack is beside him almost immediately, one hand resting on his shoulder gently, startled and faintly worried at the scope of the reaction. He'd be lying to say there hadn't also been a quiver of fear there when Bruce hides his face in his hands (oh god that's what Spock did, emotionally compromised) and the unsteady laugh is sharply reminiscent of the one the Vulcan had uttered.

His hand shifts to Bruce's back, steadying, an anchor and Jack's voice is quiet, but compassionate. ]

It's all right, Bruce. Just push it off when you're ready, okay? You decide when it's done.

[He doesn't mind the hand on his shoulder. Bruce can't help hiding his face again briefly when he does it; showing strong emotion is instinctively prohibitive to him, and it never fails to read as a risk. Showing how much you feel is like asking for it to be taken advantage of, used as a weakness, and now there's the added complication that when he has strong feelings he's putting those around him in danger.

It's somewhat tumultuous even when it's positive. He breathes out again and lets the feeling of his hand on his shoulder stabilize him, eyes closing momentarily before it passes. The happiness seems to flit in and out of him as readily as Jack had said it would, leaving when he wants it gone but with traces remaining. Even those traces are comforting to him.]

It's okay, [he repeats, feeling like Jack needs more comforting than he does.] It's mostly gone already. I thought I was ready for it, but... [He smiles at him lop-sidedly, much more easily than normal.] I think we can count that as a success.

[ Jack withdraws his hand when Bruce offers him a smile, subconsciously feeling most of the effect dissipate; he was connected to it. Settling back in his seat he returns the smile, hesitant but relieved when the man deems the experiment successful. He had never seen Bruce smile like that, unreserved and it warmed him inside. ]

It doesn't usually come on that strong.

[ The statement is still faintly apologetic but he continues with a touch of pensiveness. ]

And it doesn't work on everyone. Kyle made me try it on him too, just like this. He shook it off before it really took hold.

[He's instantly thinking of it critically with that comment, analyzing the experience, and comes up with,] Lack of exposure to... to feelings like that probably intensifies the effect. [That's about the most clinical way Bruce could possibly say that he's so rarely actually happy that when it does happen, it undoes him.]

Even if I shake it off, it'd give me pause. That's for sure. [He's recovering now, returning to baseline, shaking off the rest of the effects. Although he's still oddly more optimistic than normal, a sensation Bruce definitely isn't used to.]

With my condition... [More seriously,] This could be really useful, Jack. It's not something bad.

[ Jack wondered if Bruce was onto something with that, if only because the longer he knew Kyle the less the man seemed to match up with the lighthearted persona he so often projected. And Bruce himself... was even more complicated. (More than he knew.)

Jack is smacked with a sudden surge of relief, when Bruce says the magic isn't bad-- because to the spirit, it isn't just magic, it's a literal extension of who he is. He'd hug the man, if the last time hadn't been so awkwardly received, for saying such a thing. Bruce was always saying kind words to him, whether he recognized what they were to Jack or not. ("You're a good brother.")

With effort he quells the urge, instead treading cautiously onto the topic that presented itself. ]

You keep saying that, your condition.

Ah-- [A wry smile, not having caught that he was still referring to it that way.] Habit. It's hard to explain in uh, normal company.

[Obviously this isn't normal company. But it is probably about time that he comes clean to Jack; if he's going to want his help for potential future emergencies, he needs to know the full story. All the risks he's taking on. Bruce could never ask someone to endanger themselves for him without knowing what they were getting into.

Meanwhile, he's oblivious to how kindly his words are perceived. Even calling Jack a good brother had been the same intent as it was now-- just the truth, simply stated, without platitude. He approaches this next explanation similarly.]

I don't even remember how much you know. It's dangerous for anyone to know at home but it's... a little moot here. [Shaking his head briefly.] I'm just not in the habit of telling anyone. But I'll tell you now, [he finishes quietly, waiting for Jack to fill in the blanks of just how much he does know. Bruce might finally intend to tell him, but that doesn't mean he wants to spend longer on it than necessary.]

[ Jack would rather like to be considered normal company, but he understands a lot about extenuating circumstances. He settles himself more comfortably on his chair, long legs crossing so he could rest his elbows on them and lean forward, fixing Bruce with an attentive gaze. ]

Whatever you tell me will stay between us, I promise.

[ a pause and, finally putting into words the elusive slip of half-knowledge he'd been holding for months, he said slowly: ]

... that was you, wasn't it? When the specters came out of the satellite wreckage.

[It's not that he's worried about Jack spreading it around. The cat's really out of the bag on that one. His habitual secrecy is just something Bruce has never lost, and he feels safer that way. He's an instinctively private man and that's not about to change, but with someone he's known as long as he's known Jack (nine months or nearly, he realizes) it doesn't matter so much anymore.

The subject itself still matters, very much. But Bruce is taken aback by that astute observation.] Yeah, [he says in faint surprise, straightening his posture a bit from where it'd been slumping.] It happened then. What gave it away?

That's-- that's what I'm always trying to prevent. My 'condition'. [He conceals the hint of bitterness as well as he's able.]

[ The fact confirmed against probability, Jack takes a moment to digest that. Invariably he ends up replaying that meeting in his mind, how he'd almost been flattened by a lamppost and a metal door-- but that the green one had chosen to attack the specter Jack hadn't seen instead. ]

It was the wind. When I woke up, after everything...

[ Like getting possessed, then getting electrocuted twice, then having his staff broken purposely... that had been a rough week. ]

I asked it to make sure everyone was all right, to find if there were any more specters left or any other [ a split second hesitation ] threats. The wind said it couldn't find anything but it brought me your name and I didn't understand why. I thought it had made a mistake.

[This is news he hadn't known. Good thing he knows he can trust Jack. Someone with the ability to hear things on the wind back home could've made his life a nightmare instead of a depressing travelogue.]

No, it-- it wasn't wrong. [Bruce quiets. The mechanics of how Jack listens to the wind are secondary to the real matter at hand, and he knows it. One hand creeps up to rub at his neck, an unthinking gesture of self-consciousness. His voice is level, composed, but there's a softer note of mourning sustained beneath it.] That's me. Or it's, I don't know, I thought for a long time that it wasn't me. That I couldn't be that, that mindless, destructive... [He trails off, amends,] Maybe it is.

[Bruce gives a short sigh, eyes dropping.] I can't tell anymore.

[ The spirit's tone is likewise calm, if a little thoughtful. There isn't anything judgmental in the way he's clearly trying to put the pieces together. ]

I get the destructive part but... I didn't see mindless. You-- [ a brief hesitance at the pronoun, unsure how to approach that ] --could have gone after anything, not just the specters.

But that's not what happened.

[ Okay there'd been a small thing with the lamppost but other than that. Which Jack had technically started by flying into him. On the flip side, so much of Bruce's avoidance behaviour made more sense now and Jack could tell this was not a recently acquired condition. He didn't know what had gone on in Bruce's world with this. ]

Not from where I was standing, anyway.

[Bruce doesn't protest the pronoun choice, though his expression tightens faintly. He tends to own the Hulk's actions only in those circumstances where he's admitting to the guilt he feels for them. Other times, he expresses complete and total denial of them being his responsibility; but these days that line is getting further and further muddled.]

I didn't just go after the specters, [he corrects, a bit more coldly, directed at himself. Refusing to give in to the crushing sorrow at the haunting memories of those kedan he'd killed (he'd killed). Bruce doesn't know whether the flashbacks he'd had later were real, or a result of his guilt fabricating events to remember. Either way, the incident hasn't left him.]

He didn't. Whatever you want to call it. [A short breath out, still looking away.] Anyone that he spared got lucky. Believe me. Don't trust him. Just go the other way if it happens again.

[ Jack makes note when Bruce refers to the Hulk by "he" and defaults to that from here on, unless he's told otherwise. A tentative outreach of his hand, though he stops just shy of laying it on Bruce's arm. Not fear which stills the gesture, nor caution, but trying to understand what the man wants and how it jives with what's being said. ]

If you want me to run then why did you want to know if this would work on you?

[He stills, quiet, doesn't move. Bruce has been alone for so long that he doesn't react to Jack reaching out, doesn't know how to accept it or even if he wants it. Ordinarily he's careful to show Jack only the kind side of him, the aspects that feel guilt and calm determination to help others.

Now some of the darker, lurking resentment toward his entire lot in life comes through, though concealed as well as he can keep it.]

I don't always get what I want, [he says, voice pitched low.] You have a better chance of stopping me and preventing more... [more deaths] more casualties than most anyone else. It's a logical risk.

[Not one that he's happy about.]

Well... logical or not, it seems to me that if this is something that you do want, I've certainly got no objection. Not that I'm the smart one to ask when it comes to risk but that's never stopped me before.

[ "And it won't, if that's what you need." ]

[For a moment, the dilemma catches in him, no one side winning out over the other. Is it selfishness vs. selflessness? Is it isolation vs. connection? Bruce has no clue. There's a lot tied up in his refusal to allow others to help him, and it's so much more complicated than wanting to be alone or fear of hurting others. He doesn't understand it any better than he imagines anyone else could if he tried to explain it, and eventually, after a few seconds, he gives up entirely.

His hand slides up from his neck to rub at his eyes, mind strained at the internal conflict.] I just don't want you to get hurt, [he settles on. That's certainly true enough.]

[ Jack smiles at that, though it seems far older and wiser than should be seen on a teenage face. He unfolds long legs from his seat and stands, heading for the kitchen and calls over his shoulder. ]

I'm going to get something to drink. You want anything?

[ Jack doesn't need anything but it's a polite way to give Bruce a few moments to get himself back to sorts without kicking him out of the suite. ]

[He sees immediately through to the real motive behind getting a drink, and raises his head to smile wryly at Jack, not denying that he needs that moment.]

Sure. Whatever you're having.

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