Thor saw the clothes drop downwards, the robotic arm colliding with the floor, and for a moment, he thought the world had again turned to dust. He turned to the enemy with a cry, swinging his axe and feeling it make contact, leaving her tumbling to the ground, before vanishing into the air.
He felt the thunder return to him, roaring in frustration, and heard the familiar sound of Van Dyne’s wings, of footsteps on the stone floor, of a gasp.
“What’s the point of disabling our powers if she didn’t take away our--” The Wasp stops abruptly, breath hitching. “Thor.” She calls to him, but he cannot face her. If he sees her, he’ll see who’s missing. “Thor, he--”
“Bruce?” Lang called out, shakily as Thor’s breath. Lang is alive. Lang is here. “Bruce, are you--”
“DON’T LOOK AT ME!”
That voice broke the spell. Thor turned around, and he realized what had happened.
There, overtaken by fabric, was Bruce Banner: small, pink, and shivering.
“Get away from him!” Thor rushed down to his side, shoving Lang back with his elbow. Bruce’s face was hidden in his arms, body curled in on itself as it hyperventilated. Thor swallowed, a sickening heat rising in his the back of his neck. He had never seen him like this, even before Banner had merged. His hand rose up, instinctively trying to comfort.
“Our powers are back,” the ant whispered to his wasp. “Why isn’t he--”
“I said GET OUT!” The god bellowed. The two scrambled away, boots echoing. He gave them one more wayward glance, before turning his attention to the only thing that mattered. He was quiet for a moment, exhaling slowly.
“Banner? It’s--”
“No no, don’t look at me, don’t,””
“Banner, it’s okay, it’s me--”
“Nononono”
“ I’m not going to hurt--”
“STOP IT!”
Bruce’s hands (small and delicate and nothing like they were) burst from his fetal state, revealing his face, red with hot tears, desperate anger, and all too human blood. Upon realizing he’d been seen, he scrambled backward, only to slip on his oversized clothing leaving him to curl helplessly on the floor. In all their time together, Thor had never seen Banner look so small , like a crying, confused child. Even when he lay naked in the rubble, he was never this exposed.
“Stop it, stop it, stop it…” He sobbed, repeating himself over and over . “I can’t, I can’t go back, I can’t lose him, I can’t--” His face crushed into itself, brow low, teeth bared and biting into his lip. It was an expression that he’d never seen Bruce make, and it terrified him. Thor couldn’t imagine how he felt right now. Before Banner’s two sides united, they never understood what it was like to feel safe. But now that they did, now that they understood what they were missing, he’s terrified to return to where he was.
In a way, Thor was the opposite-- his comfortable life had broken apart in a matter of days, bombarded by more tragedy than anyone could fathom, let alone someone who had barely been touched by sorrow. If he’d known what would happen when Odin fell, he would never have left Asgard again. At least, he thinks he wouldn’t have. After all, if he never left, Hulk would still be on Sakaar, still under the Grandmaster’s control, still believing the world hated him, still an angry child. If his powers were taken away, though, does that mean he’s--
“Bruce, are you--”
“ NO! ” The smaller man boomed, slamming a hand on the ground before crying in pain, grimacing once more. Thor flinched in surprise despite the other’s size, a small spark temporarily shorting his eye. That’s right, his powers had returned to him. Which, come to think of it, made Lang right: this didn’t make sense. The sorceress’ spell has worn off. Banner should have transformed back by now.
Then it hit him: Thor had seen that face -- that heavy, aimless grimace -- before, but it wasn’t on Bruce.
“Darling.” Thor called out, voice soft yet firm.
“No, I can’t--” Banner keened, shaking his head, hands boxing his ears.
“Darling, look at me.” He raised his voice slightly, firm but not harsh. Banner opened his mouth to speak, but Thor shooshed him quietly. “ Please, my love, just look at me. Just for a moment.”
They both fell silent. Thor struggled against it, desiring to return to the surface of conversation, away from his thoughts. Bruce needed it though, needed it the same way Thor needed voices. He took a breath, wiping his face with his arm, only to cringe at its paleness. Finally, he turned to look at Thor.
Thor smiled.
“There you are.” He cooed. Bruce scrunched his nose in confusion, an expression so familiar that Thor’s eyes welled with tears. “You scared me. I thought you were gone--” large hands moved to clutch smaller ones, surprised to feel them more calloused than before. “--but I can see you now.”
“Wh--what?” Bruce stammered, sniffling and hiccuping. “Thor, what are you-- what are you talking about? I’m, I’m not--” He closed his eyes, squeezing the other man’s hand. “I’m, Hulk, he’s--”
“Right here.” Thor interrupted, his free hand moving to cup Bruce’s cheek. Banner’s eyes opened at the touch, as big and brown as they always were. “I see you. All of you, no matter your shape.” Just like Bruce always did for him. “The Hulk is right here, darling-- and Banner, and the man you became together.”
Bruce blinked for a moment, seemingly processing what he had just heard, that beautiful brain of his fighting the haze in his Hulk-sized heart. He stared up at him, searching for guidance-- for reassurance.
“You strength, your power-- in your lectures, you said all of that was a side effect, right? You said that the radiation inside of you was far more complicated.”
“It-- it’s-- shapeshifting.” He stops to breathe between each word, shaking. “Shapeshifting to-- fit cognition.”
“Right. It transforms you into how you see yourself. First, it was how Hulk saw himself, and then it was how you saw yourselves merged.”
“So…so what?” Bruce bit his lip, a new habit that came with his new self. A good sign. “What does that mean?”
“It means,” Thor began, “that the person you became has nothing to do with the form you take. That witch may have taken your strength, but she did not take away who you are: The man who saved our world, the man who saved my life, the man I fell in love with three different times.” The hand he held felt warmer; the cheek he cupped felt farther away, pink giving way to green. “You’re Bruce Banner, The Incredible Hulk, the smartest and strongest there is--” He stared up at him, tears finally falling. “--and I will not let you forget that.”
Banner filled his massive lungs, exhaled a shaky breath, and enveloped Thor into his arms...
“Thank you.” He whispered into the crook of his neck. “ Thank you, thank you, thank you.. .”
“It’s okay.” Thor hummed, muffled within his lover’s chest. “Everything’s okay.”
This would be a problem later. This could ruin a lot of progress. But at the moment, it was okay.
-------------------------------------------------------------
It had been almost two weeks since the mission, and they hadn’t spoken a word of it since. Thor didn’t push it, of course; Bruce’s therapy appointments had increased in length and frequency, so he definitely wasn’t bottling it up, something both men were known to do. Still, the god couldn’t help but be impatient, especially when Bruce was taking two hundred years to finish washing up for the night.
“You okay in there, Hulk?” He shouted over the running water. He always called him Hulk when they were teasing. “Need any rescuing?”
“You try shaving when the razors break every five minutes!” The giant whined back. “One freakin’ joule of pressure and these things fall apart, I swear--”
“Let me do it! I’m great at shaving.”
“Now, why don’t I believe that?” Thor could practically hear the raised eyebrow in his voice.
“Just because I never do it doesn’t mean I’m not good at it! What’s the worst that can happen?”
“-- Ugh , fine, come in.”
Thor jumped up dramatically, marching into the (absurdly large) bathroom, where Bruce leaned towards the mirror, a pile of defeated stainless steel razors sitting beside him. Thor couldn’t help but laugh, prompting something between a giggle and a whine from Bruce.
“Stoooop!”
“Alright, alright. Sit down, you big baby."
He obeyed and sat on the closed toilet, a very hulky pout on his face. How does turning into a seven-foot-tall muscle-giant make someone cuter? He can’t get distracted, though. Thor opened the cabinet under the sink, searching through the crate of bathroom nonsense that he couldn’t be bothered to organize before producing some shaving cream.
“What do you have that for?”
“I was mistaken. I thought it was something else.”
“Thor--”
“Nope, no follow-up questions allowed. You are distracting me from my art .” Thor moved to stand in front of the other, making a frame with his hands, before spraying the shaving cream into his hand.
“...So, I wanted to talk to you about something.” Bruce started.
“Hm? What kind of something?” Thor raised his eyebrow, anxiety tingling in the back of his neck before he swallowed it down. He rubbed his hands together, spreading it onto his lover’s broad face in soothing circular motions..
“The mission.” Bruce replied bluntly. Thor exhaled, trying (and probably failing) to mask his relief. He stepped over to the counter to grab another steel razor. “And, y’know-- what happened.”
“Alright.” Thor crouched down, examining Hulk’s face before raising it with his hand. “Let’s talk.”
“Well, first of all, I wanted to apologize.” The professor paused, letting Thor make his first stroke, solid and slow. He could’ve been a surgeon in another life, Bruce thought. It’s strange how easily he could imagine it. Thor raised his instrument, leaving the section smooth and clean, admiring his handiwork and the face that wore it. “For losing control like that. I’m sure I scared you.”
“Don’t apologize.” Thor frowned. “It was-- frightening, I admit, to see you in such pain, but that was the witch’s fault, not yours.” He wiped the residue of the razor on a cloth in a swift, purposeful motion. “For a moment, in the beginning, I thought you were-- I thought it had happened again.”
“Oh, honey... ” Bruce lilted, large green hand moving to touch the god’s arm. “That will never happen again. Ever.”
“I know it wasn’t rational, but--”
“It’s not about being rational. I’m the first one to say that.” He squeezed the arm a bit, smiling that smile that seemed to make the whole world feel at ease. “The other thing I wanted to do was thank you. For thinking so fast and staying so calm, and for bringing me back. Again.”
“I’d say ‘you’re welcome’, but I have no damn clue how I managed. Instinct, I suppose.” Thor leaned forward once more, beginning another stroke, working diligently as he continued. “All I did was remember what you told me. You transform to fit how you see yourself. If you feel big, you become big. If you feel small, you become small. After the spell wore off, you were confused and afraid. You felt small.” He finished his second swipe. They were halfway there, now. “So I made you feel bigger.”
“No, it was more than that. I thought--I thought I was splitting apart, Thor. I thought I was going to lose everything I fought for.” Bruce wrung his hands, resisting the urge to bite his lip. “I feel safe like this, Thor. Both parts of me do. I can understand the world and protect myself from it. I can protect everyone. The thought of losing that, I... I just couldn’t cope.“
“I can’t imagine.” Thor said, trying very hard not to imagine. “To go back to the place you once were--” Beer and food and a pit of apathy, of anger, of nothing having a point. “--knowing what you have to lose--” Bruce’s face, Bruce’s warmth, Bruce, Bruce, Bruce. “--it must have been terrifying.”
“It was.” Bruce was about to nod, but Thor’s hand steadied him. The razor gilded against his lip, and he hummed. “But--you saw me. You saw both of us.” His voice cracked.
“Of course I did.” The god furrowed his brow in a display of mock arrogance, before becoming serious once more. “I’ll always see you.”
“I know.” He’s definitely tearing up a bit, but he’s smiling nonetheless. “But now I have to work on seeing myself. If something like that happens again, I need to be able to stay together.”
“Is that what these sessions have been about?” Thor asked. Wait, that’s kind of invasive. “You don’t have to answer that.”
“It’s fine. And-- sort of. A lot of it is just dealing with the anxiety, y’know. It’s hard to believe I could be this happy without there being a catch, and what happened didn’t exactly help.” Bruce explained. Thor hummed his understanding, about to finish.
“I don’t think I’ll ever be comfortable with the idea of being puny in public. The feeling of invincibility-- after everything that’s happened to me, it’s something I can’t let go of.” Bruce continued, fidgeting in his seat. “But in certain contexts, I think I could learn to be okay with it.”
“All done.” Thor smiled triumphantly. His gaze lowered to the razor, cleaning it once again before setting it down. “But, what kind of contexts are you--”
There, in their upstairs bathroom, was Bruce Banner: small, pink, and blushing.
“Ta-dah.” The newly shrunken man lilted, rising from his seat, small hands grasping Thor’s broad arms. Thor gaped, speechless.
“I feel safe with you.” Bruce stared up at him, big brown eyes filled with nothing but affection. “I feel safe in our home. It’s still a bit scary, but even if I lose myself, you’ll always see me. You’ll always bring me back.”
It took a moment for Thor to break from his stupor, adrenaline no longer masking the gravity of the moment. The face he first fell in love with was staring at him, staring as if nothing had changed, as if he hadn’t changed.
He realized then that Bruce would always see him, that they would always see each other.
Slowly, carefully, Thor cupped that familiar face, thumbs brushing against his newly smooth skin. Just as slowly, just as carefully, they kissed, chaste and devoted.
Thor wrapped his arms around him, pushing him into his soft chest. Bruce did the same, his head leaning onto his body, eyes closed and peaceful. Thor nuzzled his chin into his grey-tinged curls, kissing it lightly.
“I missed this.” Thor said.
“Me too.” Bruce said. “This probably won’t be a common thing, but-- it’s nice to be the smaller one, just for a little bit. Every once in a while.”
“I agree. It’s nice to be holding you, instead of being the one to get held.” Thor hummed into his hair. “Every once in a while.”
“Let’s get to bed. I wanna be the little spoon.” Bruce murmured. “It’ll be the first time, for half of me.”
“Well, my dear, would you allow me to reintroduce you?”
Bruce giggled, loud and unafraid, and Thor saw him.
“I’d like that.”