2020-02-09 - In Favor


Hank goes to see Betty after being released from RESCUE's care facilities

Log Info:

Storyteller: None
Date: Sun Feb 09 17:00:00 2020
Location: Brooklyn NYC - Betty Brant's Apartment

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Theme Song



Hank was a full two days recovering from the massive surgeries he had to undergo, two very long days in isolation to be sure that there were no traces left of the bio-mass that tried to alter him completely into a beast. Betty is kept in the loop, hourly updates, and news of changes, but it is still a rough couple days for all parties involved. And then once he's sure he can get around, Hank makes his way to the city from the RESCUE campus.

He doesn't trust himself to drive just yet, so he hires an Uber, and when he he's outside of Betty's place he takes out his cane, and makes the long climb to her door.

Wanting to surprise her, he knocks. A bouquet of flowers blocking the spy-hole.

She hated it. She hated she couldn't do anything. Would her healing magics help or just harm what was happening with him? Did it do him justice to mix science with the mystical? Betty did as she always did when stressed - drank and worked. Old habits die hard.

A few folders were on the coffee table with a collection of mugs and empty stout bottles of some long gone amber fluid. At the sound of knocking, she eyes sidelong toward the door. Her brows furrow briefly before she moves to stand and make her way to the entry point.

Dressed in one of his shirts (tied in some places for fear it'd fall off her body), and sock feet, the woman's hair is pulled up into a messy bun like thing with loose strands of golden-bronze framing her face and throat. Her eyes are red. Puffy. The tip of her nose and tops of her cheeks are brushed pink. Unlatching five locks, she glances out nervously before opening the door fully.

Swallowing, she reaches for the flowers and tosses them gently before pulling the mass of man into her arms, clinging tightly.

Leaning on the cane, Hank gathers Betty close, nose buried in her hair and drinking deeply of her scent in huge gulps. "I am sorry." He says softly, his voice still rough, but /his/. He's content to just stay put, just hold her and breathe the scent of her, feel the warmth of her, the circle of her arms about him. His free arm holds her close, the fur on it, on him, thick, and coarse blue-black. His teeth…predator's maw, sharp fangs. And his eyes, the LOOK is him, but they are -yellow- now.

"I am so so sorry, Betty." For worrying her.

He sighs and then shifts them into the apartment, breaking no contact with her in the process. The door closed with a foot, and the locks all set with it too. Omni-dexterity go go!

"Shut up." She muffles against his chest. "Just shut up. Don't say something so stupid." Being sorry - that was the stupid part. She was sure he felt it, but it wasn't needed. At least not to her. "I'm sorry I didn't get to you sooner." She murmurs, her fingers tightening against his back.

"I'm sorry I didn't see it sooner…"

"Now now, if I cannot apologize for what could not be helped, then YOU cannot either." Hank declares in that roughened voice of his.

He presses his brow to hers, eerie yellow eyes still warm, still /Hank/. "Can we sit down somewhere and just cuddle for a bit? I need to feel you against me." A slow nod. "And I'm still a bit sore and tired." He admits. Which…honestly…yeah, not surprising. Clearly Hank's healing factor is effective, even if he doesn't hale from Canada.

She'd feel him trembling a bit, not much, but just a bit. And then a great, hot, salty tear splashes on her cheek, and then another. Silently, he cries.

"Baby…" She whispers after feeling those tears. Pulling back enough to see him clearly, she reaches up and brushes her thumbs across his cheeks. Her own eyes burn briefly before she nods to him and takes his hand. She leads him toward the bedroom of her new apartment, one that is grand in size with a bed to match. Clearly, she had in him in mind.

Once there, the shudder like doors left open, she waits for him to do as he needs. Ask for aid, accept her help, whatever would make him more comfortable before resting back. She will follow. Upon his request, she nestles up and against his body, leg and arm alike draping over him protectively.

"Cry if you need to." She murmurs tenderly. "Cry until there's nothing left, then you can move forward." Beat. "Or tell me how I can take those tears away."

"My…mind…was gone." Hank husks, voice /thick/ with horror. "I…I couldn't think. Could /barely/ speak. Just…rage, RAGE /RAGE/… and pain, so much pain." He crawls onto the bed, and gathers his Betty close, sighing as she clings and drapes so protectively. "I was…I felt..all I could do was feel, and it was all…raw, savage, I wanted…I NEEDED to rend, to tear, to savage with claw and maw…" His massive frame shudders.

"I was a -beast-." Literally his worst nightmare made real. "A monster. A savage -unthinking- brute."

The tears flow, his dark fur damp with them, darker.

"Thank /god/ I didn't get to hurt anyone…or…or…kill…"

"You understand that it wasn't your fault, don't you? Everyone, anyone, has the ability to become something dark and primal. Not just you…you shouldn't force that burden on your shoulders simply because of who and what you are." Shifting up, she presses around carefully until she can look down into his face.

Hand up, she brushes along his face, thumb chasing after the moisture seeking from his golden eyes. "You didn't hurt anyone. In that, I want you to try and trust those around you to protect themselves against many things. Whatever fate may bring their way. You're not a beast, Hank. If you were, you'd have been put down like one. Not saved. They saved you because you're not just a monster."

"Intellectually, yes." Hank admits, body still shuddering with the release of his tears. "I have always had to fight my bestial side, and for years I was sure I had it beat." A shake of his head. "Hubris. Foolish pride and vanity." He meets Betty's gaze, scenting her, nostrils flared wide to breathe her in in great gulps. "I am…a proud man, it would seem."

Hank's eyes half-lid. "I could smell again, smell the fear and pain and worry of everyone. People I love, and trust and cherish…and it was…awful." He looks up then. "I knew I should have known what I was looking at on the monitors, and then…just like when you try to think of a word and it doesn't come…it didn't come. I could not /reach/ what I knew."

He closes his eyes then, tears still welling. "I welcomed /the pain/, I deserved it. I hungered for it."

"Henry," Betty coos gently, her fingers still attempting to clean him off as best she can. "Lingering on what could have been doesn't help what can be. What happened was not because of you. A symptom, but not the cause. In a way, perhaps what happened with you saved countless others. Others that may have not had support, or a way to be stopped. Your mind was there, you calmed down, you caged and tamed yourself through it all. That should prove to you that, even in that state, you were you."

"Guilt…is not rational, love." He sighs softly and for a while he just holds Betty tightly, clinging to her, drawing strength from the feel of his lover in his arms and covering as much of him as she can manage.

And then being Hank he laughs, it is a harsh sound, but a laugh all the same. "I was terrified in a way I can't remember ever feeling before." And then he strokes at Betty's golden tresses, talons helping separate and comb the locks. "I see you were thinking ahead." He toes at the the foot of the bed by way of illustration.

"No. Many things are never rational. That's why it's good to have others around you to help remind you of what happened. A different way of thinking. Changes to your control." She smiles softly and gently noses him. Brow to brow, she kisses his tear soaked temple before resting her head back down against his throat and upper chest.

"Mmm, always. One of the reasons I got this place. It can handle a man like yourself easily."

"I try to be as much as possible." Hank says with a bit more of his usual cheer, yellow eyes close as she kisses his temple, and then he buries his nose in Betty's hair. "I am truly blessed with so many friends who care about me. I…/did/ manage to speak a bit, trivial sounding as that is, it was not trivial." He shakes his head a moment. "The surgery…was not fun."

His furry form…much much warmer to cuddle with.

"Unless I were to apply myself to destruction, of course." Hank teases.

"Are /you/ well?" He asks.

"Don't worry about me." She smiles and simply rests down. Her arms hold as best the can, leg still crossing over and hooking her heel to a section of his leg. "We'll worry about you for awhile. You greatly deserve it. If there's anything you need or want, just tell me, ok?"

A breath, she rests her palm flat upon his chest. "Does it hurt? Whatever they did to you?"

"I am still a bit sore, yes. But it isn't bad. I will be fine in a day or two, just need to eat a lot of protein to fuel the healing." Hank sighs softly. "Mostly I just need rest and some time."

He cups her chin, guiding her to look up to him. "Do I…do you mind?" His fur. "I…can't reverse it again, not without a lot of research and work, and I'm unsure even then. Does my new form…do you mind it?" He looks into Betty's eyes, and she can see the concern in his. How much he hopes she won't be repulsed, she certainly didn't hesitate, which is a good sign. But…he's always worried that his bestial form was…unappealing.

"Henry, what did I tell you at the door about saying stupid stuff?" She smirks softly and looks over his face without pause. "I met you this way, remember?" A kiss to his chin, then his lips and brow, she nuzzles back down into him and finally begins to settle in. A layer of fear finally allowed to leave her mind and spirit.

"Lots of steak then. Good thing there's an amazing butcher down the street Steve told me about."

"Alas, still neither condo nor lab for me in the city. Perhaps I should just beg a drawer or two and some of the closet space you've not used." Beat. "Assuming that there IS any closet space you've not used." Okay, see, that's a LOT more like the Hank she knows.

"We met this way, though I was less…wild…but we'd only just started to…" He shuts up as she kisses his chin, and then he finds himself kissing her lips, and then as she kisses his brow he nibbles on Betty's throat, nuzzling until she settles again.

"For a so-called genius I can be pretty dumb sometimes." He smiles faintly, tears no longer flowing, or…well…not much anymore. Honestly, he's going to be a bit fragile for a while yet, that trauma was /not/ gentle or easy. And then he peers. "Steve?"

I don't have that much stuff, you know that." She smirks. "Henry, are you asking to move in with me?" This place was much, much larger than what she had in Hell's Kitchen. Was that on purpose? "If you want your own space, which is perfectly fine, I can help you find somewhere."

Her skin still textures bumps from those massing nibbles. "Mmm, most brilliant men are, dear." Beat. "Mmhmm. Rogers. He helped me find this place. I've been training with him recently. Him and Lady Sif. Bucky and him are just down the block from us."

They were in Brooklyn now, after all.

"I do know that." Hank admits. "I…might be." He says with a smile that ends up with one of his fangs over his bottom lip, the same one as always - still not noticed by the man, though…i tis much better than it once was. "Would you be in favor? I promise, I'm housebroken." He quips lightly.

A laugh at her teasing. "Well, I guess I /must/ be brilliant, then, my dumb has been legend tonight. TWICE you had to rebuke me."

"You're training with the Lady Sif, an Asgardian heroine, Captain America and the Winter Soldier? That's a very elite group!" He smiles. "We should see if they'd like to have dinner some night, all of them."

"Oh no, I haven't really met Bucky. Been meaning to, though. I've only been training with Lady Sif and Steve. Hopefully I'll be stronger than I was before. Hopefully I can do my mission well enough." Smiling gently, she nuzzles at his throat once more before moving to lean up.

"I'm in favor." She concludes.

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