A Promise
“We're playing a game.” Bruce's voice was thick and distant, as if he were talking in his sleep. “It's a hiding game.”
Dr. Goldstein had asked him to go back to a time when he had been alone with his mother and having fun, at Tony's request – it was a demand, really – that Bruce not be forced to bring up any more of the abuse until he was feeling more at ease with the therapy. Tony wasn't sure if it was more for Bruce's comfort or his own, but he knew the memories just had to be good this time.
“Where are you, Bruce?”
“We're in the neighbour's shed. Mommy's holding me. She says don't make a sound 'cause the bad man's coming. She says it's a hiding game,” he repeated.
Tony felt himself bristling. He had an irrational urge to blast the doctor with some sort of ray.
“Get him out of there,” he ordered.
“Tony--”
“No, Jerome, we both know where this is going. The bad man's his dad, they're hiding because he's gonna beat them, and blah, blah, blah, the abuse fucking continues. Damn it, didn't I tell you it's good memory day, Jer? I want to hear about road trips and days at the beach, not cowering in a shed. Move on to another memory or I'll do your stupid little count-and-clap and wake him up myself.”
During this exchange, Bruce remained silent but with his mouth screwed up tight and a pained expression on his face. It didn't look like the hiding game was so much fun anymore.
Dr. Goldstein agreed to switch to another memory. “Okay, how about the beach?” he asked, taking Tony's suggestion. “Did you ever go to a beach with just your mother?”
“Not a beach... a lake, though.”
“Okay,” said Dr. Goldstein, “go to that time at the lake, just you and your mother, and tell me all about it.”
Bruce smiled as he remembered. “Oh, yeah, it's great here. The water's warm and I'm swimming. And dad said we could go, just for the day, so he won't even be mad when we get home. We're surrounded by trees; I feel like no one will ever find us – it's just... freeing.”
“That sounds like a wonderful day, Bruce.”
“It's perfect. We packed a lunch, too, and Mom says it's time to eat. So I come out of the water and just let myself dry in the sun at our picnic table.”
Tony watched the smile fade.
“What are you doing now?” Dr. Goldstein asked, pencil poised above his notepad, obviously noticing the change in Bruce's expression.
“I'm eating my peanut butter sandwich. A lady is standing beside our table. I don't know her. She says something not nice to Mom.”
“Bruce, I want you to focus on that lady. What is she saying?”
Tony put his hand in the bottom of Bruce's pant leg and traced his fingers up and down the warm skin, hoping to be some comfort against whatever was coming next.
“She sounds angry. She's saying, 'Is this your son? I could see it from all the way over there. Why does he look like that? Ma'am, you'd better cover that boy up before someone calls the police on you.'”
“What is she referring to?”
“Well, I'm just wearing shorts, so... uh... it's the marks on me, I guess. Dad beat me last night, so of course there's a lot of belt marks.”
Of course. Tony was glad Bruce's eyes were closed so he couldn't see him cringe at the thought.
“Mom tells me to put on my shirt. Then she changes her mind and says we better leave because my legs are pretty banged up, too and I don't have long pants to wear. She's really sorry, though. Really.”
The look on his face was utter disappointment. Not even a day at the lake could work out for him. Didn't he have any happy memories that didn't end in pain? Tony wished he didn't even know that the legs he was touching now were once covered in red and purple welts.
He shot a look at Dr. Goldstein, who sighed in resignation and said, “Let's leave the lake now and move on to a happier time. Have you gone on any other trips with your mother?”
There was silence for a moment, then Bruce replied, “Yeah. Yeah, she took me in the car.”
The doctor flipped to a new page in his notebook and said, “Okay, let's explore that. You're in the car with your mother, going on a trip. Where are you going?”
“I don't know, but she says we're leaving forever this time. She's not going to let Dad hurt me anymore.”
Tony brightened. Bruce had never spoken to him about how the abuse finally stopped. He knew Bruce's dad was dead now, but maybe he and his mother had escaped even before his death. This sounded promising.
“It's nighttime,” Bruce continued. “We thought Dad was asleep, but... he's not. He's opening the car door and pulling her out.”
Suddenly, he stopped talking and began to whine, long and low like a distressed animal, shaking his head slowly from side to side as if saying no to the memory. Beads of sweat formed on his brow, and Tony could see that he was fighting to hold back his emotions, just like he did whenever... oh, shit. Tony knew what was coming: the Hulk!
“Wake up, Brucey,” he said, frantically, “wake up, now!”
The green was starting to creep up around his collar and into his cheeks.
“Tony, he's fine,” Dr. Goldstein said calmly.
“No, you don't understand, Jerome. Wake him up or we are all totally fucked!”
“Tony, just let me do my job, okay?”
The doctor wasn't going to be any help, so Tony jumped into action, hurling himself on top of Bruce, straddling his midsection and shaking him by the shoulders. He sure hoped he could snap him out of it, because he didn't want to be in this position when the Hulk came out. “Wake up! Come on, Brucey! One-two-three-four-five!” he shouted quickly, clapping his hands.
It worked. Bruce opened his eyes, and they were green. But they faded back to their usual deep brown when he saw Tony's face above his own. Tony breathed a sigh of relief: he was still sweet little Bruce, with no sign of the rage that would bring on the big guy. In fact, there was no sign of any emotion at all. He squirmed out from under Tony and pulled himself to a sitting position, his face blank.
“He killed her, Tony,” he whispered. He laid his head on Tony's chest and sank into his arms. “Do you believe me?”
“Yeah,” Tony fought back his own rage, “I believe you, buddy. And I'm going to make things better for you from now on. I promise.”
He held him close until Dr. Goldstein told him it was time to leave the room.