Remote Hayes Property – Vermont
Arthur stepped through the golden portal into a spacious, sun-drenched living room with floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking a pristine mountain valley.
It was one of his quieter vacation properties. Last night, however, it had served a very different purpose.
Bruce Banner sat on the leather couch, wearing borrowed clothes that hung loose on his frame. He looked up as the golden light flared, flinched violently, and nearly fell off the cushions.
"Dr. Banner," Arthur said, letting the portal fade behind him. "Good morning. I trust the accommodations are to your liking?"
Banner didn't move. His eyes were locked on the space where the portal had been, his scientist's brain clearly struggling to process what it had just witnessed.
"Mr. Hayes," Banner said finally, his voice measured, careful.
Arthur smiled, taking a seat in the armchair opposite him. "You've done some homework."
"I've had all morning to piece together fragments of memory and run searches on the house computer," Banner replied, pushing his glasses up his nose. "Arthur Hayes. Founder of the Phoenix Group. Philanthropist. And apparently... you can tear holes in spacetime."
"I can do a bit more than that."
"What exactly was that?" Banner asked, gesturing to the empty air. "That wasn't technology. No ionizing radiation, no electromagnetic field, no heat dispersal. Which means either I'm finally hallucinating from stress, or my entire worldview is about to shatter."
"The latter," Arthur said comfortably. "It's magic."
Banner stared at him. "Magic."
Arthur demonstrated by waving his hand. The world blurred, and suddenly they were standing outside on the property's wraparound deck, mountain air crisp against their skin.
Another wave, and they were back inside. Banner stumbled, grabbing the couch arm as vertigo hit.
"I know. It's a lot to take in. But the world is significantly more complicated than your textbooks suggest. Magic is just the tip of the iceberg. We can discuss metaphysics later." Arthur leaned forward. "What do you remember from last night?"
Banner's brow furrowed. He looked down at his hands. "I was... on a plane. Ross's men. Then there were Hulk copies fighting in Harlem. I jumped." He pressed a hand to his forehead. "After that, it's just... fragments. Flashes of light. Fighting. Roaring. And... children laughing?"
"That would be my children. They took quite a liking to the other guy."
Banner looked up, incredulous. "Your children... played with him?"
"My son especially. My wife tells me he spent most of the evening riding on green shoulders and demanding more 'smashing.' It was apparently very cute."
"That's..." Banner shook his head slowly. "That's not possible. The Other Guy doesn't play. He doesn't protect. He destroys. That's all he does."
"And yet," Arthur gestured around the pristine room, "here we are. He didn't destroy anything last night after the battle. Even this cabin is standing. If he was a mindless monster, we'd be having this conversation in a pile of rubble."
Banner looked around the room, taking in the expensive furnishings, the untouched glass. He went quiet, processing the anomaly.
"By the way," Arthur continued, "I am surprised you are still here. I half-expected to find an empty house and you halfway to Mexico by now."
Banner let out a hollow laugh. "Where would I go? I've been running for five years. Every time I settle somewhere, Ross finds me. Every time I think I'm safe, something triggers the Other Guy and people get hurt." He rubbed his face wearily. "I'm exhausted, Mr. Hayes. I thought last night... the procedure was supposed to be the end. No more Hulk."
"Why do you hate him so much?" Arthur asked softly. "You should be grateful. If not for him, you would have died in that gamma chamber years ago."
"He's a monster."
"That's a label, not an answer."
Banner's jaw tightened. "He is destruction incarnate. Pure rage given form. Everything I spent my life building - my career, my relationships, my sense of self - he destroys it all."
"Did he destroy anything last night? When he was with my family?"
Banner opened his mouth to argue, then closed it. The memories were fuzzy, but the feeling... the feeling wasn't anger.
"No," he admitted. "That was... new. He was gentle. He listened to your wife."
"Maybe he's never had the chance to be gentle before."
Banner frowned. "What do you mean?"
"You've spent five years treating him like a tumor. Suppressing him, hating him, fearing him." Arthur paused. "Has it occurred to you that he might be reacting to how you treat him?"
"He's not a person. He's a mutation."
"Is he?"
Banner stared at Arthur. "You have a theory."
"I do." Arthur leaned back, crossing his legs. "The gamma radiation didn't create the Hulk, Dr. Banner. It gave him physical form. He was already there. Living inside you. Formed from all that childhood trauma you never dealt with. All the rage you bottled up for decades to be the 'nice scientist.' It had to go somewhere."
Banner went very still.
"The experiment didn't make a monster," Arthur said gently. "It unlocked a protector. One that had always been there, waiting to save you the only way he knew how."
Banner's face had gone pale. "You're suggesting Dissociative Identity Disorder."
"I'm suggesting he's you. The part of you that learned to fight back when you couldn't. The part that absorbed all the anger so the rest of you could function."
Banner stared at the floor for a long moment. His hands were trembling.
"So I can't get rid of him."
"Not without getting rid of yourself. You're the same person. Two halves of one whole."
"Can you help me?" The words were a whisper. "With... magic?"
"Why do you want to be cured?" Arthur asked. "You saw the real world last night. The monsters. The threats. The world is dangerous, Dr. Banner. Wouldn't it be best if Hulk stayed? He's the ultimate protection."
"Because I want a life," Banner said, his voice cracking. "I want to do research. I want to not be afraid of my own pulse. I want... peace."
"Well, bad news first. I can't reverse the radiation. It's written into your DNA now. It's permanent."
Banner slumped.
"But," Arthur continued, "there is a path forward. Integration, not elimination. Stop fighting him. Start accepting him. Become whole again."
Banner looked skeptical. "Is that even possible?"
"With a lot of work and even more patience? Yes."
"How?"
"Start by treating Hulk as a person instead of a disease. He isn't a mindless beast, Bruce. He's a child. Start treating him like one. Talk to him. Maybe one day you two can reach an understanding that evolves into real integration."
Arthur had faster methods, of course. Legilimency. Soul magic. But he didn't want to risk it. Hulk's power came from the rage. If Arthur removed or suppressed the Hulk's essence completely, the resulting entity might not be as strong.
And honestly? Arthur liked Hulk. More than he liked Banner, if he was being truthful. There was also the small matter of Tristan throwing an apocalyptic tantrum if his giant green friend suddenly disappeared.
Better to let Banner take the natural path.
"Let's talk about your future," Arthur said, shifting gears. "Where do you go from here?"
"Maybe Asia. India. I could try meditation, learn to control my emotions better and give your method a try." Banner shrugged helplessly. "Staying here would be too dangerous."
"What if I can make staying here safe?"
"I'm a fugitive," Banner reminded him. "General Ross will never stop hunting me."
"I'll handle Ross." Arthur's voice turned cold. "The military won't touch you."
Banner looked stunned. "Just like that?"
"Just like that. When you are powerful, some things become easy."
"Why?" Banner's eyes narrowed. "Why are you helping me? I haven't done anything to deserve this."
"You haven't," Arthur agreed. "But Hulk did. He listened to my wife yesterday and helped protect my family. She promised him some things in return." Arthur smiled slightly. "I always pay my debts. The fact that my children adore him is a bonus."
Banner stared. "You're helping me because of Hulk?"
"Yes. Which means there's a condition." Arthur held up a finger. "Let him out for a few hours every day. My wife promised him that."
Banner paled. "What?"
"Suppressing him makes him volatile. Give him space. Let him exist. And maybe you'll both stop suffering."
Banner stared at him for a long moment. Arthur could see the wheels turning. The scientist weighing risks and benefits, the hunted man calculating odds.
"I need time to think," Banner said finally.
"Take all the time you need. But while you're thinking, consider where you want to live. What you want to do."
Banner blinked. "Do?"
"I have a job offer for you. Not fighting. I don't need that. Research. You could join any of the companies I've funded, or I could set you up with your own lab. Choose your own projects. Medical research. Clean energy. Theoretical physics. Whatever interests you." Arthur spread his hands. "Do something good for humanity. I don't want super-soldiers. I want innovations and solutions."
Banner didn't seem to know what to say. So much good news in one conversation.
"You could also reconnect with Betty," Arthur added casually. "I'm sure Ross won't be a problem anymore."
"What—"
Arthur smiled and stood. "I've given you a lot to think about. But for now, my son is asking for his friend back."
He raised his hand to cast the spell, then paused. His magical core gave a warning throb. Right. Still healing.
"Winky."
POP.
The elf appeared on the table. Before Banner could react to the sudden appearance of a new person, Winky snapped her fingers.
Banner's eyes rolled back. His skin turned green. His muscles swelled, shredding the grey hoodie.
In seconds, the Hulk sat there, looking confused and grumpy. Winky snapped her fingers again, and a pair of massive, custom-fit purple shorts appeared on him.
Hulk looked at Arthur. He crossed his massive arms and huffed.
He had heard the conversation. He understood enough to know Arthur wanted Banner and him to... mix. He didn't like Banner. Banner was weak. Banner hated him.
Arthur sighed. "I know you heard that, big guy. I know you don't like Banner. But if he dies, you die. You have to learn to share."
Hulk grunted, pouting like a toddler who had been told to share his toys.
"Anyway," Arthur said. "The integration depends on you two getting along. I won't force it."
That seemed to pacify Hulk slightly. He looked back at Arthur.
"You want to come with me?" Arthur asked. "Tristan is waiting."
Hulk's ears perked up. "Tiny Friend?"
"He's been asking for you all morning."
"TINY FRIEND!" Hulk nodded vigorously, suddenly eager. "Hulk go!"
Arthur raised his hand. Golden sparks spiraled outward.
"Let's go."
—
Hayes Residence — Movie Room
The portal opened into chaos.
The battle footage was already playing on the massive screen. Elena sat cross-legged on the floor, inches from the display, watching Iron Man blast a chunk out of an Abomination's shoulder. Pietro and Wanda flanked her on the couch, providing running commentary.
"See, if he'd aimed lower—"
"Pietro, you couldn't hit that thing with a baseball bat."
"I could definitely—"
"HULK!"
Tristan's shriek cut through everything.
The kid launched himself off Eileen's lap and hit the ground running. He made a beeline for the massive green figure emerging from the portal, arms outstretched.
Hulk dropped to one knee with surprising grace. Tristan slammed into his chest like a very small, very enthusiastic missile.
"You're back!"
Hulk's face split into a wide, toothy grin. He scooped Tristan up with one massive hand and deposited him on his shoulder.
"Tiny Friend."
"We're watching you fight! Look!" Tristan pointed at the screen, where footage-Hulk was using one Abomination as a club to beat the other. "You're winning!"
Hulk looked at the screen. His chest puffed with pride.
"Hulk smash."
"The best smash!" Tristan agreed.
Elena abandoned the footage entirely. She stood before Hulk, neck craned back, staring up with undisguised awe.
"Hulk, can you pick up a building?"
Hulk considered this. "Small building."
Elena's eyes went wide. She whirled to face Arthur. "Daddy, can we keep him?"
"He's not a pet, Elena," Arthur sighed, though he was smiling. "He's a guest. Be polite."
Hulk settled onto the floor, cross-legged, with Tristan still perched on his shoulder. The furniture creaked ominously but held. Everyone's attention returned to the screen.
The footage played on. Hulk watched himself tear into the Abominations with obvious satisfaction, occasionally grunting approval at particularly impressive moments. When the footage showed him catching a thrown car and hurling it back, he nodded firmly.
"Good."
"Very good," Pietro agreed, leaning forward. "Though your stance was a bit wide. If you tightened your core—"
Hulk slowly turned his head to look at Pietro. He raised one thick eyebrow.
Pietro shut up instantly. "Or not. Wide stance is good. Great stance."
The footage reached its climax. The Abominations were down. Ariadne delivered the final strikes. Hulk stood victorious among the rubble, roaring at the sky.
The children erupted into cheers.
"YAY HULK!"
Caught up in the adoration, Hulk threw his arms up in a massive V for victory.
CRASH.
His left hand clipped the solid oak coffee table. The wood didn't just break; it exploded into splinters. The popcorn bowl went flying, raining buttery kernels everywhere. A lamp toppled over and shattered.
The room went dead silent.
Hulk froze.
He shrank in on himself, pulling his knees to his chest. He looked terrified. He looked at Arthur, then at Eileen, expecting the yelling. Expecting the guns. Expecting the hatred.
"Bad Hulk," he whispered, his voice trembling.
Eileen stood up. She walked over to him, stepping over the shattered wood. She didn't look angry. She looked sad for him.
She reached out and placed her hand on his massive knee.
"It's okay," she said softly. "It was an accident. You were just excited."
Hulk looked at her, wide-eyed. "Not mad?"
"No. We're not mad." Eileen looked at the elf. "Winky?"
Winky sighed dramatically, but there was a smile on her face. She snapped her fingers.
The wood flew back together. The lamp reassembled itself. The popcorn flew back into the bowl. In three seconds, the room was pristine.
"See?" Eileen smiled. "Good as new."
Hulk touched the table, running a massive finger over the smooth wood. He looked at Winky with awe. Then he looked at Eileen.
A massive, goofy, relieved grin spread across his face.
Arthur watched from the doorway, leaning against the frame. He saw the tension leaving the Hulk's shoulders.
"Hey," Arthur said, clapping his hands. "This living room is a little small for a party, isn't it? And Hulk needs leg room."
He looked at the kids, who were vibrating with sugar and excitement. He looked at Pietro and Wanda, who were itching to move. He looked at Hulk, who was clearly bursting with energy.
"How about a field trip?" Arthur suggested. "I know a private island in the Pacific. White sand, big ocean, nobody for miles."
"Sandcastle?" Tristan asked.
"The biggest sandcastle," Arthur promised. "Hulk can help dig the moat."
"Dig!" Hulk agreed happily.
Arthur raised his hand and opened a massive portal. Through it, the sound of crashing waves and the smell of salt water filled the room.
"Last one there is a rotten egg!" Pietro shouted, grabbing Wanda and running through the portal.
Hulk roared laughing and charged through, Tristan cheering on his shoulders.
Arthur watched them go, his heart full. He looked at Eileen.
"Ready for a vacation?"
"Always," she said, taking his hand.
They stepped through together, and the portal closed behind them.