Rated T: Be warned that this chapter contains some language, mentions of suicide and a suicide attempt (not graphic)

"I was feeling low, okay? So I put a bullet in my mouth and the Other Guy spit it out ...!" - Bruce Banner, The Avengers (Movie)

A~HP~V~HP~E~HP~N~HP~G~HP~E~HP~R~HP~S

Chapter Two: The Other Guy

After reaching the rather large town on the other side of the jungle, Severus and Bruce stayed for a couple of days. But after nearly being robbed by teenage thugs one night, Severus dragged Bruce off before the rage monster could make an appearance and they hitchhiked south along the African coast. In a blur of towns and trucks and strangers, the two men managed somehow to get past the border without too much trouble. Severus might have used a wandless confundus on the border guards, but Bruce certainly wouldn't notice such a subtle bit of magic.

They went back to their 'help-the-poor' work without speaking anymore about the green monster, Bruce's past, or what Severus was hiding from. Another two months passed, and Severus had to admit that it was nice to have a partner. He simply didn't want to leave the man on his own, especially not when he knew what the 'Other Guy' was capable of. If he had a proper lab, he could have researched a cure, or at least a modified calming draught. But he didn't have the right ingredients or equipment, and so had decided to start teaching the muggle some occlumency basics: namely, meditation.

The therapy seemed to be working. Between working among the poor and helping where they could, meditating together in the evenings, and having civil conversations, Severus was certain that Bruce was feeling better.

But he was wrong.

Severus returned to their hovel on the edge of a larger village than they were used to, exhausted after assisting at a difficult labor and delivery. The twins born were healthy and safe, and so was the mother. Severus had left Bruce tinkering with the radio device that the villagers relied on instead of a phone, to call for help if they needed it. A storm last week had damaged something in the radio, and since Severus knew next to nothing about muggle technology, he left Bruce to handle it.

But the house was missing the entire back wall. The hut was barely standing and the inside looked like an army of trolls had trampled and tossed everything about. A cold hand of dread seized Severus' heart when he spotted the pistol he usually carried, lying on the floor beside the shredded rags that had been Bruce's clothes.

Severus had no idea what had happened, but he knew that Bruce had probably chased his attacker away, who knew where. He would wake up confused and unclothed, and Severus sighed as he gathered some things and set out after the beast. He was already tired of babysitting this man.

It was harder to track him now, since the village they were in was situated in a land of hills, rocks, and grass. There were no trees, no jungles, and no clear trail. It was dark, and Severus had to concentrate for a full minute before he could successfully use the point-me charm without a wand. A little beam of light shot off in a straight line, and Severus followed it. He must have jogged five or six miles before he finally found Bruce, huddled against a large speckled boulder. Surprisingly, Bruce was awake, but he seemed exhausted, and he was weeping like a child.

Sighing, Severus sank down on his knees beside the man. He had forgotten his cloak in his rush, and only had his own spare clothes in his hands. It was a chilly night and the breeze was damp, coming off the sea several miles away. "Bruce," Severus called, attempting to sound sympathetic, though he was simply a bit irritated.

"N-nothing can hurt him," Bruce sobbed. "Nothing can s-stop him. Nothing, nothing, nothing."

"Oh, do stop that noise," Severus snapped, grabbing the crying man by the shoulder and giving him a good shove. "Get up and get some clothes on; you're indecent."

"He spit it out," Bruce moaned, ignoring Severus' attempt to bully him out of his misery. "Oh god, he just spit it out like it was nothing and he was so angry."

Severus shook his head in frustration. "What did he spit out, Bruce? What is the matter with you?"

The other man groaned softly and went on weeping.

Severus huffed and sat back on his heels. There was nothing he could do for Bruce right now, since he was obviously in distress, perhaps in shock,

"I'm s-sorry Severus," Bruce hiccupped. "I kn-knew I shouldn't have … but I was so … so …"

"Oh spit it out," Severus grumbled.

Too late, he realized it was a bad choice of words because Bruce started sobbing hysterically again, babbling about how 'he spit it out'. Nothing he was saying made any sense. Severus reached up and pinched the bridge of his nose as he slowly counted to ten, shoving his stronger irritation behind his occlumency shields. When he was calmer, he reached over, grabbed Bruce by the shoulders, and yanked him upright.

"Listen to me!" he shouted in the weeping man's face. "I do not know what you are babbling about, and I will not know until you tell me why you are so distressed! Do you understand? Now talk. Tell me why you are so upset. Who spit what out and why is that such a tragedy?"

Bruce stared at him in the moonlight for several seconds. Slowly, the man raised his fist and uncurled the fingers. Resting in his palm was a smashed bullet from a pistol. Severus let go of Bruce's shoulders and plucked the crumpled bullet out of his hand.

"A bullet," he said drily. "This is what is upsetting you? Who attacked you?"

"M-me," Bruce whispered. He bowed his head and shivered.

"You," Severus repeated. "What are you talking about? You attacked yourself?!"

Bruce shuddered and nodded, his voice wobbling as he answered. "I was … just … feeling low. So I … Well …" He gestured helplessly at Severus' hand.

Slowly, the Potions Master lowered his hand and glared at Bruce. "You attempted to end your own life?" he said incredulously. "With my firearm?"

"I'm s-sorry," Bruce whispered, and hunched down even smaller.

Severus seethed, wondering whether it would be better to punch the pathetic coward in the jaw or flay him with his cutting tongue. He chose words, for now. He would punch Bruce later, if he needed to. He abruptly got to his feet and glared accusingly down at the man huddled in the grass. "And what, pray tell, do you think would be my reaction if I walked in after such a long and difficult day and was forced to scraped your brains off my floor?" he demanded in an icy tone of fury. "Did you even think at all? Or were you just being a selfish bastard? What were you thinking?!"

He threw the smashed bullet in fury and it bounced off the other man's bare shoulder. Bruce covered his face with his hands and sobbed.

Severus sighed angrily and kicked at the clothes still lying on the floor. "Oh stop whining and get dressed. I'm not talking to you until you're decent."

He turned on his heel and marched away to cool off. He was feeling more angry and irritated and betrayed than he had in years and he had no idea why. Bruce meant nothing to him. Right? Why should he care what Bruce did with his own pathetic existence?

Severus supposed his reaction was based in part on his own rage against personal temptations to 'end it all'. He had not so far for a very simple reason.

Suicide was the coward's way out.

That was why he had never seriously considered it in light of his own miserable existence. He was no coward. He supposed Bruce had always seemed been a bit timid. He'd known that from day one. Bruce was awkward and shy and hesitant. He was no leader, and he was not brave. But Severus had … appreciated, having someone to talk to about medical or scientific things. He had tolerated the man's quirks and oddities, only because he was so terribly lonely. For over twelve years, he had been alone. Now, he wasn't. Bruce didn't know who he was, what he had done, but he did know that Severus had a nasty temper. He was cold and sarcastic. He did not tolerate incompetence and drilled him mercilessly in techniques to help him control his temper and stay sane. Maybe … maybe Bruce did not realize that Severus was doing these things because he cared.

Severus groaned and rubbed his face. His own thoughts were sounding a bit like those of a bloody Hufflepuff. Here he was, planning out how to talk about feelings with the most Hufflepuffish man he had ever met. Hmm; now that he thought about it, was Bruce Hufflepuffish? Two of the most pathetic, spineless men he had ever known had been Gryffindors. Or was Bruce more like a Slytherin? Bruce obviously had secrets. He was discrete, good at hiding his own feelings, and even though he was a bit naïve and awkward, he learned quickly and adapted the same. In fact, the more Severus thought about it, the only thing he was basing Bruce's Hufflepuff-ish-ness on was the fact that the man was just plain pathetic sometimes.

But Severus knew better than anyone that Slytherins could outdo anyone in the pathetic department. Slytherins wore masks all the time, even around those they trusted. But when the masks came off, there were truly no other children in Hogwarts who were more pathetic. In fact, Bruce was beginning to remind him of a Slytherin boy he had taught in his early days. The boy was a half-blood, and once his mother died, he dropped out of Hogwarts and jumped off a bridge. What had his name been? Severus couldn't remember. But he recalled that his mother had ended her own life and his father might as well have, drinking himself to death the way he did.

He was surrounded by cowards. Even Dumbledore had committed suicide at the end, fearful of more pain and suffering and illness, and desiring that another hand should wield the instrument of his death. Cowards, all of them.

Severus sighed again and turned to go back to the spot where he had left Bruce, no longer quite so angry. But he was going to talk to that shape-shifting physicist. He wasn't going to pull his punches either. The man needed a spine, and maybe a little bit of self-esteem wouldn't be so bad. He'd met flobberworms with a higher regard for themselves.

He returned to Bruce, gratified to find that the man had dressed himself and calmed down a bit. Wearing Severus' clothes, he somehow didn't look like himself. Bruce liked T-shirts and cargo pants; he was currently wearing a long-sleeved shirt with a collar, (black, of course) and sturdy black trousers that only had four pockets. Severus was taller than Bruce, and the cuffs of the shirt and trousers were turned up a bit to allow his hands and feet freedom of movement. The stocky man sat against the speckled rock in the moonlight, head bowed and back slumped. Was he still crying? Severus couldn't tell.

He marched right up to the man and dropped down in the dirt in front of him, legs crossed Indian-style. "Talk," Severus ordered sternly. "Why did you feel the need to put a bullet in your own brain?"

Bruce shrugged and Severus seethed with rage at the noncommittal reply. Wasn't it enough that he dealt with shrugging teenagers for most of his life? What had he ever done to deserve this torture? He was doomed to be continually surrounded by sloppy, lazy, pathetic, incompetent dunderheads!

"Are you a man? Or are you a sloppy teenager?" Severus hissed. "Look me in the eyes when I am speaking to you, and do not shrug your shoulders like some featherless bird attempting to fly!"

Bruce flinched and trembled, but he looked up obediently, reaching up hastily to wipe his wet face. His thick hands were dusty and dirty, and naturally, he probably looked a right mess, but Severus couldn't tell in the dim light and he didn't really care right now.

"Do you truly hate my company so much?" Severus demanded. "I believe I gave you the option of traveling on your own at the last village, did I not? Why stay with me if my presence is so unbearable?"

"N-no!" Bruce stuttered, cringing at the accusation. "Y-you've been wonderful, Severus. Really. I … I've never had a better friend …"

"Is that so?" Severus sneered, drumming his fingers on his knees. "Then why did you attempt to remove yourself permanently from my presence, with a firearm that belongs to me, I might add?"

"I wasn't … I didn't …"

"So explain it to me," Severus interrupted with a snarl. "Because, although you are pathetic to the core, I thought we were making progress. I did not think you a total coward, Bruce."

Bruce trembled and didn't reply.

Severus sighed and shook his head. He leaned back a bit and looked up at the waxing moon. "I am not a kind man," he said bluntly. "If you wish to speak to someone who will tell you, unflinchingly, what a dunderhead you are; by all means, I will indulge you. But if you desire someone to offer you false assurances and sugary platitudes, you can find another psychiatrist."

"That's not … I mean …"

"Oh, do make up your mind, Bruce," Severus said wearily. "You are not the first pathetic idiot I've met, and you will not be the last. But you don't have to be an idiot. And you do not have to be pathetic. So what do you want?"

"I want to be free of this monster!" Bruce yelled, sobs strangling his voice again. "But nothing can kill him! Do you have any idea how terrifying that is? What if the Other Guy takes control one day and never gives it back? I'll destroy the world!"

"So dramatic," Severus drawled. He hesitated, wondering why he was even going to mention such a thing. "Not that you would care, but there is a possibility that while nothing … physical, can harm your Verdant Troll … I might be able to stop him using … other means."

"Huh?"

"Eloquent, as you always are," Severus sneered. "Simply trust me. I am quite certain that I can stop your alter ego if I must."

"… You can?" Bruce breathed. "Really? How?"

"Why don't we discuss this subject again once I actually manage to do it?" Severus snapped. "We are getting off topic. Now, I am not going to ask again: why did you think it would be an appropriate welcome-home gift to splatter your brains all over my house?"

"Our house," Bruce mumbled.

"Answer the question, you insufferable Gryffindor."

"Insufferable … wha?"

"Never mind that," Severus growled through gritted teeth. By Merlin and Morgana he wanted to either storm off and forget this whole thing or else just strangle the intolerable idiot! "Are you going to speak sensibly and help me to understand this whole state of affairs or are you going to sit there feeling sorry for yourself until the moon falls into the sea?"

Bruce was quiet, taking deep breaths in the stillness that almost seemed to echo with the timbre of Severus' snarling voice. "Well … I thought you'd be better off without me," he said quietly, fiddling with the hem of the shirt he wore. "You … you've been so kind to me … and y-you've been trying to help me … But I didn't think it was doing any good, see. I can still feel him simmering under the surface all the time and I'm just sick of it. I saw your semi-auto there and I … well … Next thing I knew I was putting it in my mouth and … the Other Guy spit it out."

Severus stared at the man's grief-lined face for several seconds. Bruce was telling the truth, and to be honest, he felt a twinge of sympathy. While he didn't have a giant green raging beast trapped in his skin, he had his own anger issues to deal with. And he had known a Werewolf who was probably even more pathetic than this man here. Yes, Bruce wasn't completely worthless. Given time, he could probably turn out pretty well, all things considered.

"Do you think I have never been tempted to end my own existence?" Severus suddenly asked, his voice low and rasping. What he would have given to have his silky, smooth baritone back. But he would make do with his damaged vocal chords. "Do you think I have not stared at my … weapon, in the dead of night wondering if I could do it, wondering if should do it? Because I have, Bruce, and it is not the way. Suicide is the coward's way out. What is braver; nobler; saner; is to stand back up and face the world, using whatever means you must, to stay upright and continue on. Do you think I am here in Africa for a vacation? My own amusement? We all have out demons, Bruce. But the way to slay them is to live. To truly live."

Bruce stared back at Severus, a few more tears sliding down his gaunt cheeks. "You … you're helping me …" he whispered.

"For no other reason than that I find your company to be … not horrible."

Bruce blinked and suddenly, a shy smile graced his face. "You don't mind me around? Even though I'm messy and forgetful and stupid?"

"You are not stupid," Severus snorted, almost fondly. "Despite the fact that you are technically the elder, occasionally you act like a child. You are absent-minded and disorganized. You are naïve and sporadically reckless and impulsive … But you put up with my temper, my snarling, and my obsessive need for order. You endure my cooking and you haven't even commented on my frequent … nightmares. Having you as a partner in my work has been mutually beneficial. I would be … angry, if I were to lose you now, after all the work I've put into you."

"That's … that's the nicest thing anybody's said to me in long old time," Bruce murmured, scrubbing at more falling tears.

"Then you've had a poor life."

"A lonely one," Bruce agreed. "Been on my own for about a year now … since Harlem," he added in a whisper, a haunted look coming over his face.

Severus closed his eyes and scrubbed at his face wearily. "I have been alone for some time as well," he muttered. "Perhaps … perhaps that is why I find myself rather … attached, to you. We are two lonely fugitives in a dreadful world." Severus paused. "Bloody hell; that sounded so pathetic," he added under his breath.

Bruce laughed huskily, wiping away the last of his tears. "Thank you, Severus," he said. "I don't know why you put up with me … but thanks. I really don't have any idea how to thank you …"

"Then don't," Severus snapped dismissively. "I am cold and stiff, sitting here in the damp. Shall we go now?"

Bruce nodded and staggered to his feet. He held out his hand to help Severus up and the other man grudgingly accepted the hand. "So," Bruce commented. "How is it that you look young but you move like an old man?"

Because I've been tortured to within an inch of my life and almost killed I don't know how many times in my existence, Severus silently sneered. Out loud, he said, "Watch your mouth, Green One, or this 'old man' may just let you run off in a rampage the next time your temper gets the best of you."

Bruce laughed. It was a much different laugh than Severus had ever heard from him. He sounded lighter, and somehow freer. He sounded happy and content. Severus shook his head at the man's mood swings. An hour ago he was so depressed he shot himself in the head, now he was laughing and slinging an arm around his shoulders as if they were pub-buddies. He realized that he ought to push Bruce's arm off … but he didn't. He let Bruce practically hug him, and rolled his eyes as the man's laughter slowly tapered down. It was nice, he supposed, to have his only intelligent acquaintance back in a semi-sane manner. They could go back to frigid politeness tomorrow; just the way he liked it.

Suddenly, the other man stepped back and held out his hand. "Bruce Banner," he said, with a trace of shyness in his suddenly exuberant behavior. "I used to put 'Doctor' in front … but there you have it. That's my full name."

What do I care? Severus thought sardonically. But he shook the other man's hand automatically and sighed when he felt Bruce's expectation. "Severus Snape," he muttered, dropping Bruce's hand at the earliest possible instant. "But repeat my full name to any living creature and I will skin you alive and pickle your innards in a barrel."

Bruce simply laughed at the threat as if it was the funniest thing he'd ever heard, and they set off back up the beaten track toward their village. Severus didn't even really mind that the man walked much too close and their shoulders touched every so often. He supposed it was the least he could put up with … for Bruce's sake, of course.

A~HP~V~HP~E~HP~N~HP~G~HP~E~HP~R~HP~S

Time passed, more or less peacefully. Severus and Bruce moved to another village eventually, and they gradually began going north instead of south, when there was no longer any south to go to, unless they planned to sail to Australia. Though they bandied the idea back and forth, to tell the truth, Severus did not feel like melting more of his galleons for such an expensive fare and Bruce did not know of their existence yet anyway. They continued on their pilgrimage, on foot, or by hitchhiking.

The Green One did not make another appearance for many months. Bruce threw himself into Severus' training with a fervor the wizard frankly wished Potter had possessed. They did not talk much more of personal matters, but there was a greater ease between the two of them. Severus was still annoyed by the man's irritating quirks, but he knew that his own personality occasionally grated against Bruce as well, and the other man handled his irritation remarkably well, all things considered. Difficult as it was to admit, Severus found the man tolerable most of the time. It was somewhat odd that he felt so content to share his space and his food and his time with someone else. He was able to have a certain freedom around the other man that he never had been able to express before, except perhaps to Lily when he was young and innocent. But despite how odd their relationship was, Severus had to admit it was good for them both.

Bruce talked sometimes about himself, his childhood, and even the research that had led to his accident, (something about super-soldiers and World War II). Severus was no closer to finding a way to brew something to help Bruce's control, but it seemed that simply having someone to talk to and a teacher in meditation exercises was working wonders for the man. Bruce was no stranger to the techniques, since he had apparently been experimenting with yoga or something similar years ago. With practice, he was getting better.

Severus never had been very fond of listening to other people talk, but there was a certain … charm, to the way Bruce told his stories and explained his scientific mumbo-jumbo. Severus couldn't honestly say he hated it. He certainly learned more about muggle science from Bruce's rambling than he ever had in his forty-plus years previous. He also appreciated that Bruce hardly ever pried into Severus' past. When he did and Severus shot him down, he didn't push it. In return, Severus did not push Bruce when he did not wish to speak of something, of which there were quite a few. They maintained a careful distance, yet they were inevitably getting closer.

They were companions on their journey, partners in their work, and neighbors at best in the various ways they interacted. It was a careful dance they played, neither willing to step closer in fear of pain, or rejection, or inevitable betrayal. Bruce had been betrayed before, Severus could see that, and bitter experience had taught the wizard not to trust anyone on principle.

So they continued their careful acquaintance with one another, trusting each other to hold a scalpel steady or to hammer a nail in straight, but not to carry precious information.

A~HP~V~HP~E~HP~N~HP~G~HP~E~HP~R~HP~S

"Why do they always end up calling you doctor?"

Severus glanced up in annoyance from the battered medical dictionary he was perusing. The city on the coast of Sierra Leone was small by Western standards, but at least it had a library. Severus had always been obsessive about knowledge, as it was a currency one could never have too much of, in his opinion.

He gave his companion a glare that clearly was ordering him to shut up and stop asking silly questions. Bruce calmly turned a page in the book that had caught his interest, a 'simple' text about thermo-nuclear physics, whatever in Merlin's name that was.

"I mean," Bruce said quietly, not looking up from his book. "You never call yourself a doctor … but in every village we go to, people end up calling you doctor anyway and you never correct them. So are you a doctor of some sort, then?"

"I have a basic knowledge of human physiology and the effects of many organic materials on various illnesses and injuries," Severus muttered in reply, glaring at Bruce. He was trying to concentrate here. Why was he being bothered with such a silly question? But why did Severus even bother wondering? It was in Bruce's nature to be childishly curious. He was also dreadfully awkward and seemed to have no sense of when was a good time to start conversations and when wasn't.

"You've got a degree?" Bruce asked, almost casually, as he adjusted his thick reading glasses.

Severus glared at the insufferable American and returned his attention to his book. "What does that matter?" he snarled, half under his breath.

"I would guess you don't then," Bruce said thoughtfully, finally looking up at him with a glimmer of admiration in his eyes. "That's pretty amazing," he added. "I've got seven PH.D's and I can't do half of what you can do with folk remedies. How do you do it without an education?"

"Do I need some sort of fancy schooling to treat people who obviously can't treat themselves?" Severus demanded testily, slamming his book shut.

"No, I suppose not," Bruce blinked. "I mean, I'm not a doctor of medicine … but I help you a bit anyway. I was just saying … you're odd."

Severus snorted, almost laughing. You're one to talk, he smirked inwardly as he flipped his book over to scan the words on the back.

Bruce turned another page in his own book. "You just seem to know so much more about doctoring than me, but you've never been to university, don't have any degrees …"

"I never said I don't have any degrees," Severus muttered, moving off to thumb through more books on his side of the shelves.

"Oh, so what sort of degrees do you have? I mean, it's so hard trying to figure out a safe subject to start up with you … I don't really know much about you at all."

"And you thought such a conversation was prudent to have in a library?" Severus hissed over his shoulder, getting irritated. Well, he was always irritated. Now, he was just annoyed. Sometimes, Bruce talked too much. Or just at the wrong times.

"… Oh."

"Yes, 'oh'," Severus muttered, rolling his eyes as he went back to perusing the paltry selection of medical books this library had to offer. It wouldn't be the first muggle library he had entered in search of knowledge, but this one was by far one of the more useful. Most of the libraries he had encountered in South America and Africa were so under-booked that it had to be a crime to even call the building a 'library'. But then, he had always stayed away from the more affluent cities in favor of the dirt-poor back country villages and small, struggling towns that called themselves 'cities' in an attempt to sound more important. Perhaps there were better libraries in the wealthier areas of the continent.

Severus pulled out a book in the psychology section entitled Mastering Your Emotions Before They Master You, and handed it off to Bruce with an amused smirk.

The scientist merely rolled his eyes. "You're hilarious," he snorted, taking the book and tucking it underneath his thick tome of physics. "I thought you said I was doing alright in that meditation training or whatever it was?"

"Your successes have been adequate so far," Severus retorted. "I did never said you were doing well, by any stretch of the word. Perhaps you ought to have a look at the book yourself. I'm not a bloody psychologist and all of my advice to you is simply what has worked for me in the past."

"You? Anger issues? I never would've guessed," Bruce grinned good-naturedly.

"Well, if you are finished interrogating and poking fun at me," Severus muttered between clenched teeth. "You can choose your books because I am leaving. If you miss the bus, you're hitching your own ride back."

He left Bruce in the medical section and made his way to the front desk. He and Bruce were staying at a refugee shelter just outside the city, helping the people there in exchange for a place to sleep and access to a bus and some civilized comforts. Even though they still worked with the less fortunate, they were essentially taking a break. Bruce got nervous when they stayed in one place too long, and Severus didn't mind moving more quickly than he had been. He still had plenty of money and a bowl to melt his gold galleons in. Today, he was planning to turn a few more gold nuggets into local currency so they could stock up on supplies, especially clothing. Their next spot after the library was a jeweler, and they closed rather early.

"Will you hurry up?" Severus grumbled impatiently as Bruce stopped yet again to peruse another shelf of books. "The jeweler will close in less than an hour!"

"You know, that's something I've been meaning to ask you. Where'd you get the gold anyway?" Bruce wondered out loud, though not too loud. All the same, Severus threw him a contemptuous glare and a clear gesture that meant 'shut your stupid mouth, moron' and ignored Bruce's embarrassed attempts to start a different conversation about the hideous painting hanging above the desk.

The older man running the front desk silently checked their books out for them and regarded them with curious glances. Severus had used a bit of magic to forge addresses for the two of them so they could take books out of the library. He was copying a good many pages of these medical books into an enchanted notebook he kept and couldn't very well do it here in the library where some muggle might see him concentrating on his magic and either get curious or frightened. He didn't need Africa's Ministry of Magic to come down on his head for whatever their statute of secrecy entailed. He took the stack of books he had checked out and left the library, heading down the dusty, crowded street toward the bus stop. Bruce joined him there a few minutes later just as the run-down bus screeched to a stop in front of them.

The bus was dirty and it rattled and backfired almost as badly as the Knight Bus as it made its way through the streets. Severus was often struck by how odd people were, and buses were prime gathering grounds for the strangest specimens of the human race to come together. In this city, there was a large British population, so Severus didn't really stand out the way he had in other places, and that suited him perfectly. He regarded the rest of the odd bus patrons with barely a glance, and they had no idea he was watching them. One man had his nose buried in a newspaper and chewed on a foul-smelling cigar while he muttered imprecations under his breath. Another man in colorful clothes was staring out the window, tapping his foot to a beat only he could hear. A stout old woman was dozing over a covered basket, and a young lady in a tight blouse was dragging on a cigarette while she flirted with the man beside her. It was all so normal and petty that Severus almost wanted to roll his eyes. Buses were always filled with humanity at its most idiotic in his opinion, which was why he never used to take the Knight Bus.

The driver of the bus suddenly shouted something and swerved hard. The bus filled with shouts and curses as the passengers were thrown to the side. Severus and Bruce fell against the window, and Severus was able to see what had alarmed the driver. Some sort of protest or riot had spilled out onto the street just ahead, and there were people throwing some sort of explosives that crashed like broken bottles. The driver was attempting to turn around, but Severus could see a man with something like a small cannon on his shoulder, aiming right for them.

"Is that a bazooka?" Bruce gasped. "What the hell is going on?"

"Political unrest, just as we've seen in other parts of the continent," Severus gritted out, bracing himself. "You must transform and shield us or we will all die."

"What?!" Bruce gasped. "No way am I doing that! You know how I feel about the Other Guy!"

"Very well," Severus hissed, putting all the hate and loathing into his voice that he could muster. "You are an idiot and a moron and your mother was a drunken whore!"

Bruce sucked in a sharp breath as if Severus had hit him. "What did you say about my mother?"

Severus took a deep breath. It had to be done, he told himself, trying to ignore that niggling feeling that he was being unnecessarily cruel. He turned on the man beside him and punched Bruce in the face before he ducked the inevitable chaos. The rocket launcher screamed as it discharged its ammo, and Bruce roared in anger and pain as his clothes ripped and his body changed. The giant green monster tore through the roof of the bus and grew so that he towered over the screaming passengers. He roared out his rage and his challenge … and got hit in the chest by the grenade. The force of the blow threw the beast backwards, which dragged the whole bus onto its side. The people screamed and struggled to escape the wreckage, and Severus scrambled out of a broken window as the Green Troll howled with anger and tore his way free of the bus. He watched as the monster-that-was-Bruce charged straight at the rioters, scattering them left and right with sweeps of his huge fists. Men screamed, weapons rattled as they discharged, and people fled. Above it all was the roaring of the enraged beast. Severus scrambled free of the wreckage, swiping blood from his face. He paused for a brief second to make certain he wasn't mortally injured, but it was just a bit of glass that had scraped his forehead. It was insubstantial and he ignored it, since he knew head wounds bled profusely without being overly serious. He used the chaos around him as a screen while he focused on the green raging beast and dragged up his magic. Severus took a deep breath before throwing out his hand and releasing a wandless spell, attaching a magical tracing charm to Bruce so he could find him later.

With that taken care of, he then turned his attention to the panicking people in the street, barking at them to get their brains back into their skulls and vacate the area. Most people could see that the green beast was terrifyingly dangerous, so they didn't need to be warned twice, but Severus snatched cellular phones out of two people's hands and demanded they call the authorities instead of filming the destruction like morons. True to Severus' personality, he didn't need to give any order twice.

With the rest of the civilians, Severus fled the destruction, grimly satisfied that the Green Troll could take care of himself.

A~HP~V~HP~E~HP~N~HP~G~HP~E~HP~R~HP~S

I hope you enjoyed this! Seeing as I don't know much about the Hulk or Bruce Banner, (I've only seen the Avengers, Infinity War, and Endgame with regards to the character) I had to go to wikipedia to find out he has 7 PH.D's and other fun trivia, like the fiasco in Harlem. I really like Bruce in the Avengers, but I haven't seen Age of Ultron or Ragnarok, so bear with me if I end up making Bruce and the Hulk different than they end up being in canon. Besides, Snape is here to help, so that will change things. By the way, I'm sorry that Snape was so mean to poor Bruce in this chapter, but don't worry, I'll let them fight in the next chapter. :)

Thank you all for your enthusiasm and for your lovely reviews!

BTW, I'm agreeing with whoever said Snape would hate having a superhero name in the first place. He would hate it on principle, but I can see Tony bugging him about it anyway, because Iron Man's just like that. Annoying. I can't wait to let them at each other's throats. ;)

Druid's not a bad moniker, but Snape would probably hate it simply because of muggle portrayals of wizards and magic and druids anyway.

Thanks for all your support and your suggestions! I'm taking every single one seriously!