Porcelain
Somebody was poking him.
Bruce remembered transforming back into himself in the woods. He was only going to take a little nap, then call the others. He was always so tired after fighting. Which was funny, considering he never really did any of the battling.
He vaguely remembered a sharp prick in his neck as he laid down, and all his limbs began to feel fuzzy, like the circulation had been cut off. It's a good thing he had already been laying on the ground, because he was sure the feeling spreading through his limbs would have caused him to face-plant.
He had only woken up once, really. Bruce could tell he was wearing a hospital gown. There was a single sheet covering him up to his chest. He looked to the side of the bed, spotting a clear bag of fluids hanging from one side of an iv pole, and a bag of blood hanging from another.
Was he hurt? What had happened? Why was he getting blood? He hoped the doctors knew about his irradiated blood cells. They were-
A clicking sound drew his eyes to the corner of the room. A woman was standing at the door, just staring at him. Bruce tried to say something, but the woman cut him off when he opened his mouth.
"Good morning Doctor Banner!" She said cheerily, "And how are we feeling today?"
Bruce whispered back. "Well, I-"
"Great!" She walked over to the side of the bed, looking at the beeping monitors and smiling a very plastic smile. It made Bruce think of one of those old porcelain dolls. How they were always smiling but always looked uncomfortable.
"Excuse me, where-”
"Looks like your oxygen levels aren't as high as we'd like," she interrupted again. "Let's just... get this on you," she said, fumbling with a cannula. And then she was way too close for comfort, slipping it over his ears and into his nose. "I will be back in a few minutes to answer any questions you have..."
He couldn't quite hear her as well, and when he blinked, Bruce found his eyes didn't want to open again. He was just suddenly so tired. He supposed that was fine; she would wake him up when she got back.
But someone was still poking him.
He opened his eyes halfway. His eyes decided they didn't want to focus, but he could fuzzily see someone arranging an iv in his arm. A low beeping sound came from next to him.
Heart monitor... Bruce's brain supplied.
"Don't worry Doctor, we're just drawing some blood," a voice said.
Bruce didn't really want to have his blood drawn. But then, he didn't really care. It's not like he had then energy to object. He could feel himself shaking, and his head felt... fuzzy. As if it was floating away from the rest of his body.
"Jesus, can we get the guy a blanket?" Another person said. "I'm surprised he hasn't gone into hypovolemic shock!"
"He'll be fine. Ross said he lasted longer than this before going into shock during the previous experiments," the first voice said.
Ross... so he wasn't injured. They were just experimenting on him. But he was so cold, and Ross was going to try and put him down, and he was cold and Ross was going to kill him and he was so cold and-
The low beeping next to him had turned into a loud shriek.
"He's not supposed to be this aware. Can I get another bag of midazolam in here? The inhalant isn't enough by itself. I need to get this blood to patient four." The first person said again.
An inhalant... sedative. Bruce thought sluggishly. That doesn't sound... legal.
He wanted to object, he really did! But he was just so tired. The door clicked again, and he could hear rustling next to him. It was only a few seconds before the drug found its way into his system, and Bruce let himself get dragged under.