Earth-717: Hulk Vol 2

Chapter 1: Looking Out

Her hands in her pockets, Betty walked along the edge of the Toronto waterfront, observing the world around her. There were gulls in the sky, soaring along and mostly minding their own business. There were cars on the road, forming an endless line of people going through here with a need to get somewhere else. There was fog in the air, rolling over the sidewalks and the water, giving a faint hint of mystery to the area.

There were numerous people walking about, but Betty did not pay attention to any of them as she continued to walk. Pulling her jacket in tighter as a gust of wind snaked its way along her back, she then turned towards the lake, placing her arms together on the metal railing at the edge of the sidewalk. Running her right index finger through her hair, she stood there as she thought about all of the searching that she had done in the last year.

The long hours she had spent scouring through snippets of news and internet rumours. The desperate conversations she had had with her new contacts. The handful of times she had wondered if she was truly not going to find him again. Every once in a while, she had even run into a night when she felt that perhaps her quest was no longer worth continuing.

Those nights she spent slamming her fist against the shower wall.

Those days she had spent sitting on the couch, gorging herself with greasy food.

Those times she would lay awake in her bed, not knowing if she would ever be able to share it with him again.

Those times that she thought that perhaps she had best move on with her life.

Each time this happened, her mind went back to a conversation she had a year ago with her father, while overlooking a body of water similar to the one she was standing at now.

"Are you going to be okay?"

"Yeah."

"Can we make peace?"

"Soon."

"Are you going to look for him?"

Betty inhaled before the answer replayed in her mind. She remembered that she had smiled when she had given it.

"I'll never stop looking."

It was all she ever needed to hear to reinvigorate her resolve. She knew that no matter what, she could not give up on him. They had been through too much together for it all to have been in vain. She thought back to that terrible day in Santa Fe, when she had been taken hostage by a deranged major in a high-tech armoured suit, and how she was saved at the last second.

It was in that moment, when the Hulk saved her, that she had started to wonder if perhaps the monstrous side of Bruce had a place in this world. Whether or not it did, she owed it to Bruce to try and find out, and that meant having to keep on looking.

Suddenly, her cell phone started vibrating in her jacket pocket. Nudged out of her thoughtful daze by it, she grabbed it and held it to her ear, clicking the call button.

"Ross," she said.

"Betty, it's me."

Betty recognized the voice right away as feminine. She was speaking to one of her new contacts that she had acquired while searching for Bruce.

"Do you have something?" asked Betty.

"Yeah. I think we've finally got him."

Betty's eyes widened upon hearing the woman's words.

"You're sure?"

"Well, we can't completely be sure, but it's damn promising. Promising enough that the top brass are mobilizing. And Betty, I mean they're mobilizing now. You're gonna have to move fast."

"How fast? Where is he?"

"Northern forests of Ontario," replied the woman. "I'm gonna send you the general area, cause we don't have exact co-ordinates yet. Top brass says they have a plan around that. Wish I could give you more, but this . . . ."

"It's more than enough," said Betty. "I know how dangerous this is for you. Thanks for the info."

"Just don't take too long to act on it."

"I won't."

With that, the woman hung up on Betty, who held her phone out in front of her. A few seconds later, some map data appeared in a text message. Stuffing the phone back in her pocket, she immediately turned towards the street, heading back the way she came. Arriving at an underground parking lot, she found the place where she had left her motorcycle.

Hopping on, she turned on the ignition and checked the pistol that she had concealed under her jacket. Taking a few seconds to breathe, she then drove out of the lot and out onto the street, headed in a northern direction.


As the elevator made a dinging noise to indicate that it had arrived at its destination, the steel door opened to reveal the lone occupant standing inside. He was an older man with greying hair, a meticulously square jaw, and a general's uniform. Marching out of the elevator, he held his hat in his left hand as he made his way down the hospital hallway.

He got to a patient room, at which point he looked through the window to see a sickly-looking woman laying on her bed. She had several wrapped bandages around her head, covering the fact that she had no hair. Numerous machines and tubes were connected to her body, sprawled all around her. Her eyes were closed, but the man could see that she was still breathing, if only just.

Her complexion was far paler than the last time he had come to visit. Much of her skin was starting to shrivel and wrinkle due to the loss of body mass underneath. The monitors and machines indicated that she was being kept alive. The man wondered how long she would be able to maintain her fight.

"General?"

Ryker turned to look to the side as a doctor walked up to him. She was holding a clipboard. Nodding at the doctor, he then turned back to look at the woman in the patient room.

"How is she?"

"Holding on," replied the doctor. "Treatments are working, but . . . . we don't know what will burn out first. It's always a gamble."

"It's a gamble I'm willing to make."

"You can go in to see her, if you like. She responds well when spoken to."

"Thank you."

Ryker opened the door to the patient room, and the doctor turned back down the hallway. Closing the door behind him, Ryker then walked up to the medical bed, putting his hat on the bedside table. The table also had a framed photograph of Ryker and a much healthier looking version of the bedridden woman, leaning into each other and vibrantly smiling.

For several minutes, he just stood there, looking down at her. He then finally reached out and caressed the side of her right cheek, causing her to stir. She pressed her cheek against his hand before slowly opening her eyes. Upon seeing him, she put on a generous smile. When she spoke, her voice was gravelly and faint.

"Hello there, good-lookin'."

Ryker let out a short laugh.

"Hello yourself."

"Hmmm. Now . . . . what's a fine young man like yourself doin' . . . . coming to talk to an old girl like me for? Hmmm?"

Ryker looked behind him, seeing a chair on the other side of the table. Pulling it over, he sat down, before reaching out and grabbing her nearest hand with his.

"Still the best looking girl in the house," he said.

The woman chortled at this. She squeezed Ryker's hand tighter.

"Always did know how to turn on the charm, old boy. And you always did look damn good in a uniform. Always got me . . . . excited."

"I wanted to look good for you."

"You better, seeing how long it's been since you dropped by."

"I've been . . . . busy."

"I know. Going out there, doin' your country proud. Always tryin' to make things better for the rest of us normal folk."

The woman blinked and smiled again.

"My John."

Ryker gave her a half-smile before looking at the floor.

"You know I'm proud of you," she said. "You know that, right?"

Ryker nodded before looking back up at her.

"Enough about me. How are you doing?"

"Me? Oh, doctor's said I'm fit as a champion horse. Should be outta here any day now. Soon enough, I'll be back to bench-pressin' cars and buildin' houses."

"Really, Lucy . . . ."

"I'm good, John. I'm feelin' . . . . feelin' . . . . bet-bet . . . . b-better . . . ."

Lucy started coughing violently, using her free hand to cover her mouth. Ryker stood up and reached over, cradling the back of her head with his hand. The lines around his eyes softened as a frown grew on his face. After a full minute of slowed breathing, Lucy finally opened her eyes again and looked over at him.

"Lucy . . . . you scared me."

"Don't be afraid for me, John. I . . . . I . . . ."

Lucy's eyes rolled back as she gestured to the side. Ryker turned his head to see a water dispenser in the corner. Rushing over to it, he poured her a cup of water before holding it to her lips. He served her the entire cup, which she eagerly gulped down. After she swallowed, he sat down again, waiting for her to speak.

"I'm old, John. No use denying it."

"Don't say that. Don't, don't . . . . there's still . . . ."

"Now you listen here, old boy. Don't you dare go out there, pitying me, or some other nonsense. I lived a good life. Damn good life, in large part thanks to you. We shared some good times, you and I."

Ryker turned his head to the side, and it was clear that he was fighting back against an inclination to cry. Lucy again reached out and grasped his hand.

"But there's no use fightin' what won't be. I ain't scared to die."

Ryker slowly looked back at Lucy.

"I've made good in this world, same as you," she continued. "We both did what we could to be . . . . to be good people. And that's all I wanted for us. I know I won't be around much longer . . . . but I'm not mad, and I'm not scared. It's okay. Thing ain't beautiful cause it lasts forever. It's beautiful cause . . . . cause we got the time we got. It's the natural way of things."

"I . . . ."

Ryker took some time to force out his next words.

"I can't give up on you. I can't."

"I don't think it's about givin' up, John."

Ryker raised an eyebrow as he looked Lucy in the eyes.

"I think it's about makin' peace."

For a long time, the two continued to sit there, no longer needing to speak. Once Lucy fell asleep again, Ryker stood up and kissed her forehead. He then turned around, and after grabbing his hat off of the table, he walked out of the room. As he closed the door, he took a moment to look at the name that was plastered next to it.

LUCY RYKER.

Ryker rubbed the ring on his finger for a moment before turning back down the hall. As he approached the elevator, his cell phone went off. Stepping to the side of the room, he pulled it out and held it to his ear.

"This is Ryker."

"General, we have a situation," said a female voice.

"What kind of situation?"

"The kind that requires your immediate attention. Someone from SHIELD is waiting outside the hospital. We all need to talk."

Ryker looked out the window to see a van parked on the street, with a man in a business suit standing there.

"I'm on my way."

Ryker turned off the phone and marched over to the elevator.


In the boreal forests of northern Ontario, Canada, a paltry wooden cabin stood by itself, wedged between a tree line and a small lake. Outside of the cabin stood Bruce Banner, who was using an axe to chop some wood, which he then placed in a pile next to him. He was wearing a plaid shirt and blue jeans, with brown, messy hair atop his head.

Slicing apart another piece, he didn't notice as a small, circular shaped metallic orb floated up behind him. It had a front section that was a cyan, glass dome, which lit up as it spoke.

"Doctor Banner!"

Bruce turned to look at ROB.

"Hey, ROB. What's the story?"

"Nothing out of the ordinary of recent, I'm afraid. Or maybe that's a good thing, not sure. Likely due to the increasing number of metahuman incidents, my internet scans indicate that any mobilized forces in search for you haven't made any progress. Any progress I can detect, anyway. You never know with the military."

"Yeah, you can say that again."

"You never know with the . . . ."

"That was, that was rhetorical, ROB. You didn't actually have to say it again."

"How am I supposed understand human behaviour if you continuously do or say things with the opposite intention? It's utter madness, Doctor Banner!"

Bruce put the axe on his shoulder.

"Maybe it is. But, then again . . . . that's being human."

"Quite right. Come on, I've prepared supper."

Bruce rolled his eyes as he followed ROB towards the cabin.

"Chef's surprise again, ROB? You're killing me out here."

"By the contrary, I'm doing everything I can to keep you alive. It's been quite a task this past year. I'm amazed I haven't been rendered non-functional!"

ROB floated through the open cabin door. Bruce stopped on the porch, taking a moment to look out at the forest beyond. For a long time, he had been isolated here. Since becoming a fugitive, he had never spent this long in any one place. It was even starting to feel like home for him. Scratching the side of his head, he then strolled inside of the cabin, ready for the end of yet another day.