darcy/bruce, calming
“Hey Big Guy,” Darcy said, her voice shaky. She took a slow step forward, her arms held out at her sides, palms flat and open; non-threatening. Blood from her scalp wound dripped into her eye, and she blinked to try to clear her vision, unwilling to wipe it away right now. “Big Guy, it’s okay.”
The Hulk had his huge hand wrapped around the last remaining member of the organization that had kidnapped Darcy two days ago, and was slowly squeezing the life out of him. “Man hurt Pretty. Hulk smash man.”
She nodded, swallowing hard, and took another step toward him. “I understand. But I need Bruce now. I need his help.”
The Hulk narrowed his eyes. “Need Hulk. Hulk smash man.”
Darcy took a deep breath, and closed the distance between them. “Hulk, I need Bruce,” she said, trying to keep her voice as even as possible. If she seemed calm, he would calm down too. “Can you let me have Bruce, and Iron Man and Thor can smash the man?”
He considered that for a moment, then nodded. “Thor and Tony smash man. Banner help Pretty.” With that, he casually tossed the man toward Tony and Thor, who screamed as he flew the air like a rag doll, and started to shrink. The tears finally began to fall when Bruce’s arms wrapped around her. “Oh, Darcy, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.”
She couldn’t say anything, just clung to him and sobbed.