Chapter Text
"Hard to stay awake," Bruce said. He blinked, slow and lazy. His eyes took a little longer to reopen each time.
"If you're tired, you can go back to sleep," Phil said. "I'll stay and keep watch to make sure that nothing bad happens. You know you're safe here with me." Hopefully some of that reassurance would seep through to Hulk, letting him know that Phil would take care of both of them.
"Stay," Bruce said. He nodded heavily against the pillows.
Phil took that as an encouraging sign. It was much better than Bruce's usual I don't want to be a bother. Phil kneaded the back of Bruce's neck and was rewarded with a drowsy, wordless murmur. "Now, how about that story?" Phil said.
"Mmmkay," Bruce said. Sometimes, when he was sluggish like this after a transformation, he would let people take care of him without fighting it. The exhaustion left him vulnerable in a way that little else did; he lacked the energy to hold up the barriers that he usually used to keep everyone at bay. It gave Phil a narrow window of opportunity that he would use to best advantage. In time, perhaps Bruce would come to enjoy the care enough to seek it out instead of just tolerating it when someone else offered it to him.
Phil began the story, "Once there lived an old woman with her simple son. He never seemed to do anything right, and so everyone in the village called him Foolish Jack. One time, Foolish Jack worked for a farmer who gave him a coin at the end of the day. Being a very simple fellow, he had no idea what to do with it, and lost it while crossing a bridge. 'Silly boy!' cried his mother. 'You should have put it in your pocket!' "
"The next day, Foolish Jack did chores in a dairy," Phil continued. "He earned a share of the milk, which he put in his pocket just as his mother had instructed. Of course the milk spilled, leaving him with nothing once again. 'Silly boy!' cried his mother. 'You should have carried it in a pail on your head!' "
Bruce fell asleep before Phil got to the part about Foolish Jack trying to carry a donkey home on his shoulders. Phil tucked the comforter carefully around the slumbering man. Then Phil finished the story anyway, so the forlorn princess got to laugh and Foolish Jack got to marry someone with a bit of common sense.
There was something sweet and soft about the way Bruce slept. He relaxed, the way he rarely did while awake, worry-lines smoothing away. His eyelashes made dark crescents against his cheeks. Bruce clutched the pillow with one hand, his feet wound tightly into the blankets. Phil reached out to him again, cupping the side of his face gently, always gently. Bruce curled into Phil's touch without even realizing how much faith and affection it revealed.
It reminded Phil poignantly of bathtime, how Hulk had trusted Phil to wash his hair without getting soap in his eyes. For all Bruce's protestations, something was getting through to Hulk. That gave Phil hope that something could get through to Bruce too. It would be all right, sooner or later. Phil would make sure of that. He cared deeply about both of them. He would do whatever he could to help them find a better balance within their shared life.
"I know Bruce can be a handful, big guy, but he's worth it," Phil said, stroking his fingers through the rumple of dark curls. He didn't know if Hulk could hear him, but he had to try. "Just be patient with him. He'll come around."
