Something that I came up with while I should be doing my homework. Enjoy! :D

It was the sound of the door creaking open that managed to tear my eyes away from the novel I was reading, and that drew my attention toward the man standing in my bedroom doorway. Surprisingly, it was Bruce, who I didn't often get to see but on my daily visits up to the lab, which he's been all but tethered to since he started living in the tower.

I knew immediately something was wrong; I had never seen him look so exposed and open with his emotions before. He looked at me with such sorrow and terror in his gaze that I mentally started, but I kept my face smooth and instead gestured to him openly, inviting him to lie beside me. He shut the door softly behind him, and strode over to my bed across the room and sunk into its mattress as if it were something completely natural to him.

He (without protest) laid his head in my lap, not unlike a child, and I combed my fingers through his dark chocolate curls, desperately trying to soothe him as broken sobs began to rack his strong shoulders. It was not often that I found him seeking my comfort, and although I hated to see the man that I had grown to love in such pain, I also relished in the thought that he cared enough for me to let his walls down, to let me in, to let me be there to comfort him.

I continued to try and soothe him for what seemed like hours; I didn't mind this company. I continued to whisper reassurances to him, let him know that I was there for him. I knew better than to try and tell him that it was okay, because I knew that this was something I couldn't be certain of; nothing was ever so black and white with Bruce. He certainly would never be in his current state over some trivial occurrence. No, I knew what had happened, but I instead decided to let the quiet of the room linger, and work to quiet his cries.

Finally, he raised his head, having expelled all the tears he could muster, probably more than he had shed in a good while, and looked at me, eyes puffy and ringed in red. "Why do you stay with me? I must look so pathetic to you," he muttered. His eyes quickly flickered to the cream bedspread, as if ashamed at showing his emotions.

I reached my hand out to cup his cheek, still damp with tears and prickly with stubble. I lifted his head so as to look into those beautiful brown eyes of his. "Never. You are not pathetic, Bruce. You are special, and kind, and brilliantly gifted, and I wouldn't change anything about you. I will always love and be here for you. Do you understand me?"

I dropped my hand in order to intertwine my fingers with his, calloused and warm, sort of like him, in a way. He was so warm and kind and gentle, just being near him brought a smile to my face. But I knew that he harbored so many scars, in every sense of the word, and built so many barriers, that few were ever able to see his true brilliance hidden away underneath them all. These past few months together had allowed me to find a way beneath all of the scar tissue that he'd built up over the years, and has allowed me to finally see him truly for who he is; I loved everything that I saw.

I motioned to the place beside me, resting my head on my pillow, and invited him to rest there beside me. A small smile tugged at his lips, and he crawled over the small expanse of bedding. We laid there in a comforting silence for a while; the only sound that filled the room was our breathing. Late afternoon light filled the room, casting long shadows across the space. I glanced over at the man next to me, and murmured, "Do you want to talk about what happened?"

The room suddenly became much tenser. "Not really… Not now, anyways." He sat up and swung his feet over the side of the bed, making an audible thump on the hardwood floor before he stood.

I sighed, frustrated at how quickly he seemed to able to raise those defenses of his. I rose, and walked over to his side. "You know that talking helps, and that I'm always here to listen. Whenever you need me, just say so, deal?"

I offered a smile, which he returned gratefully. "Deal." He laid a gentle kiss on my forehead, and I giggled at how he had to reach a bit to do so; he was only a couple of inches taller than me. His breath was hot and smelled vaguely of coffee.

"You wanna go up to the lab to see how Tony's experiment is coming along?" I asked optimistically; I loved going up there to mess with Stark. Bruce's face lit up at the offer, although at the prospect of visiting the lab, or at watching his best friend squirm, I couldn't be sure. Maybe a mixture of both?

He wiped away any remnants of tears from his tanned cheeks, and happily opened the door for the both of us. I chuckled and gave him a playful curtsy in reply, before racing out the door to beat him to the elevator. He laughed wholeheartedly, and ran after me, his troubles all but forgotten for a few happy moments.