re: Bard's Poor Attempt at a Combined Marvel/DC Universe (an ongoing project)

Bruce yawned as he stepped off the bus. He smiled as he began walking back to his apartment, his thoughts drifting on how good his life had become. After waking up naked in the desert, he and Betty had talked at length about the events of the night. She had eventually talked him into going to see the base psychiatrist, Dr. Leonard Samson, and those sessions seemed to be paying off. Both the frequency and intensity of his rage fits had dropped dramatically since then. During that time he, Betty, Hal and Carol had started meeting up from time to time to have a “couples’ night”.

Bruce had heard stories about Hal Jordan for a long time and from everything he heard he gathered Hal was the stereotypical test pilot: cocky, smug, maybe not quite as good nor as smart as he thought he was… Whether it was Carol’s influence or Hal had never really been that guy, Bruce had learned first-hand that everything he had heard and thought about Hal Jordan was wrong. On that first night they all had gotten together, Hal bared his soul to Bruce in what he felt could only be described as one of the most honest and sincere apologies he had ever encountered. There was genuine sadness, regret and humility to Hal’s words and tone that surprised him.

Over the last few months they had gotten together more and more often, sometimes it was for lunch or dinner, sometimes a movie. Last month Hal had told a story about an old friend who had accidentally sent him a text meant for someone else. It had said, “google ‘unstable angina.’” Hal had responded with, “why would I want to look up old girlfriends” followed by, “oh, you said AN-gina!”. While Carol and Betty had only groaned, Bruce still laughed about it.

This afternoon’s trip had been a bit more adventurous as they had gone to an amusement park, Bruce’s smile turned into a grin as he remembered the feel of sliding around those curves in the go-karts. On their way to the bus station, he and Betty had talked about how they thought Hal had purposely lost the races to the rest of them.

Betty… Bruce’s heart grew warm thinking about her. He wished she could have come back with him, but as she had said; “tomorrow is a school day.” They had talked about his moving down there but he was reluctant to take on that much change. Things were good right now… but he missed her during the week and he knew she missed him. Phone calls, it seemed, weren’t as good as being with someone in person. Groom Lake had the Janet flights running multiple times a day to Nellis, so maybe…

As he entered the convenience store, the bell over the door broke him out of his thoughts.

“Mr. Banner! How are you tonight? Miss Ross wit’choo?”

Bruce stopped at the counter to talk to the night manager, Javier, through the security glass. Violence from drug addicts was no longer a “big city” issue, a month ago someone stoned out of their minds had come in with a machete and began attacking the chips aisle. After that, they put in place some serious security measures. Javier and the register were surrounded by thick, bulletproof glass. All transactions would have to go back and forth through a sliding drawer. Inside the booth was the register, a landline phone, a tv, a radio, Javier had his laptop, he even had a cot, food and a private bathroom. If someone tried robbing them all he had to do was call the police and then wait in comfort for them to show up. Bruce thought it was both smart and sad at the same time.

“Not tonight, Javier, she has to work in the morning so I’m on my own. Hey! When’s that brother of yours going to let you work days for a change?”

“From your lips to God’s ears, ese. He keeps saying he’s going to swap, but we’ll see.”

Bruce smiled at that as he made his way back to the freezer for some milk, it was the same thing Javier had been saying for years. He had grabbed a carton of milk and was letting the freezer door shut when the bells at the entrance rang again.

Two people in hoodies and wearing masks rushed in and pointed handguns at Javier.

Bruce froze. He was just out of their field of vision, maybe if he stayed extremely still they wouldn’t see him.

Javier laughed. “Estupido! Go ahead, try to shoot me, I dare you! Leetle punk-asses!” One of the thieves fired a couple of shots at Javier, but the glass did its job well. Still, the surprising loudness of the noise caused Bruce to involuntarily take a step back, accidentally knocking over a display.

The gunmen both turned and fired at Bruce as he fell, a lone bullet ripping through his left shoulder. Bruce fell hard but barely noticed as his shoulder felt like it was on fire. The pain was excruciating! Out of instinct he reached to grab where the pain was coming from, but as he did so his vision started getting blurry and dim. His brain felt like someone was poking it with pins, the fire in his shoulder seemed to suddenly spread to every inch of his skin. The world around him was starting to get fuzzy and dim, but just before passing out he felt something clawing its way to him from beyond the pain: rage.