Hulk rubbed his neck and backed up a few steps warily, a low warning rumble rising from his throat, but he didn't attack again.
His instincts were telling him something important.
No matter how angry he got, no matter how long he kept raging, killing the man in front of him would be nearly impossible.
And worse than that, the man clearly could kill him.
He just hadn't.
He had held back the whole time.
Clark sat down in the sand and patted the ground beside him, signaling for Hulk to sit too.
"If you're done being furious for a minute, then sit down and let's talk. Ross and his pack of military idiots won't make it out here for at least another half hour."
Hulk froze.
Since the day he had come into existence, this was the first time anyone had spoken to him like that, as an equal, almost like an older brother telling him to calm down and sit.
Because up until now, everyone had reacted the same way.
The military ran in fear or opened fire.
Banner treated him like a problem.
Everyone else either tried to cage him or kill him.
Hulk hesitated.
Then, at last, his massive body lowered itself into the sand across from Clark.
"Hulk doesn't like them," he said, pointing in the direction of the Abomination, who looked not far from dead. "Hulk doesn't like Ross either."
"I know you don't," Clark said, meeting Hulk's eyes with steady calm. "Because that thing was created for one reason only, to beat you. It's just another monster built to smash and ruin things."
"But you're not like that. Right, Hulk?"
Hearing someone call him Hulk made his body twitch.
Banner usually called him that thing.
The military called him a monster.
Other people called him Bruce Banner.
This was the first time anyone had spoken his name like it actually meant something.
"Hulk... doesn't want to hurt good people," Hulk said quietly, almost shyly, poking at the sand with one thick finger. "Hulk only hurts people who want to hurt Banner and Hulk."
"So I noticed," Clark said, tapping just beneath his own eye. "I can see through walls, sure. But I can see you, too, Hulk. You look furious all the time, but when you fought in the city, I could tell. Whether you meant to or not, you were protecting civilians."
Some long-buried part of Clark's super-brain pulled up something he had read in another life.
In one version of Hulk's story, Hulk had been born from Bruce Banner's childhood abuse, a protector personality created to survive his father.
Which meant that at his core, Hulk had never been a destroyer first.
He had been a shield.
A protector.
Just one too strong, too angry, and too hated by the world to ever be understood properly.
"Banner keeps treating you like a disease," Clark said, his voice carrying a strange soothing weight that made Hulk's inner frenzy settle little by little. "Like a curse. He keeps trying to cure you. Trying to erase you."
Hulk's eyes started to redden.
This towering giant, strong enough to flatten buildings, suddenly looked like a child whose feelings had finally been noticed.
"But he's wrong."
"You're not a sickness. You're the strongest shield buried in the deepest part of him. When Banner runs into danger, when he hits a fear he can't face on his own, you're the one who steps out and takes the hit for both of you."
"Hulk... Banner hates Hulk..." Hulk said, his voice catching. "Banner wants Hulk gone..."
There was real hurt in that voice.
Honestly, Hulk needed therapy even more than Banner did.
"He's afraid," Clark said. "Afraid of your strength going out of control. Afraid of what the military will do because of you. Afraid of the disasters that follow."
Clark stood up, walked over, and gently rested a hand on Hulk's shoulder.
"But have you ever thought about this? You don't have to keep running forever. You don't have to keep fighting forever. Banner is tired. You're tired too. He's been on the run for a long time, and you've been drowning in anger the whole time."
"You both need rest."
Hulk looked up, confused. "Then... what Hulk do?"
"Coexist."
Clark said it plainly.
"Stop trying to take control just to break things. You and Banner can share. Trade time. You come out one day, Banner gets the next. You're not enemies. You're one person. Refusing to talk to each other just makes it worse."
"And if someone still comes after you after that..."
Clark tapped the S on his chest and flashed the kind of bright, easy smile that made it sound like he meant every word.
"Then come find me."
"I can't promise I'll solve every problem in the world. But if somebody decides to go after a friend of mine, I'll remind them exactly why the sun stays overhead."
Hulk stared at that smile.
The fury in him quieted.
Not entirely. Just toward Clark.
But in his mind, one thing became crystal clear.
Friend.
Maybe even older brother.
"Hulk... likes you," Hulk said, grinning a little, then gently poking Clark as if testing whether he was real.
"Clark Parker," Clark said. "Though around everyone else, call me Superman. I still need to talk to Banner, so get some rest."
Hulk nodded.
After one last look at the first real friend he had ever made, his body began to shrink.
Banner surfaced.
A moment later Bruce Banner, wearing nothing but a pair of oversized shorts, collapsed onto the sand and passed out from exhaustion.
Clark draped his cape over him.
And because fate had a sense of humor, the military only arrived after Clark had already fixed everything.
The helicopters came first, searchlights cutting across the sand and locking onto Clark. Armored vehicles rolled in too, surrounding him as if any of them could meaningfully threaten him.
A helicopter landed.
General Ross stepped out under guard.
The moment he saw the Abomination lying in the distance like a corpse, and Banner unconscious beneath Clark's cape, joy practically burst out of him.
This was his chance.
"Well done," Ross called, suppressing his fear and forcing himself into the posture of a proud military commander. "S-Man, you've just solved a major problem for the United States military. Now hand over Bruce Banner, who remains government property, and the military will make sure your contribution is remembered."
Ross flicked his hand, and several special forces soldiers moved forward with reinforced restraint gear, ready to secure Banner.
Clark didn't move.
He stood there looking at Ross, and the smile vanished from his face.
Yes, Ross had once been a friend of his father's.
But by now he had sacrificed too much in his obsession. Too many soldiers. Too many public resources. Too much damage.
Put simply, Ross had crossed over into fanaticism.
He was obsessed with the Hulk.
Obsessed with the super-soldier program.
Obsessed enough to lose sight of everything else.
"Who said you were allowed to touch him?"
The special forces men stopped instantly.
Cold sweat ran down their backs.
Ross's face darkened.
"What exactly is that supposed to mean?" He drew the pistol from his side, fully aware it was useless, but still clinging to it because it was all he had left of his authority. "Bruce Banner is a top-level military asset. He is an extremely dangerous mutated organism. Shielding him is no different than declaring yourself in open opposition to the United States government!"