thefuzzyguy | If there's trouble, all us freaks have is each other.

If there's trouble, all us freaks have is each other.

Kurt had proved very hard to control for such a little guy. His teleporting could be controlled with stolen MRD technology, modified so as to be a bit less safe and a lot more punishing if he tried to get the collar off. But the mild, frightened kid they'd caught had turned into a determined little terror, and his various infractions had gotten him condemned to increasingly unpleasant confinement. A cell large enough to climb around in let him try to ambush the scientists coming to look at him. A confined space left him at an advantage over anyone without night vision, a prehensile tail, and a wicked kick. In the end, they'd settled on a modified version of the heavy-duty manacles that kept the most dangerous subjects spread-eagled against the wall. He didn't fit perfectly and might have found a way to slip even that, so they'd turned it upside-down. His physiology kept it from being agonizing the way being held that way would have been for a normal human, but it did leave him light-headed and dizzy, and he finally seemed subdued.

What the great minds of Hydra had missed was that Kurt had never intended to hurt anyone. He just wanted to get out. What came after that he didn't know. If he went home they'd find him again. They might hurt his parents. But the one thought he could keep clear under the muting influence of the collar and being held like a giant blue bat all the time was that he needed to get out.

The thick walls and the constant blood pounding in his head made it hard to pick out, but there was suddenly enough noise in the hallway to catch his attention. He groggily lifted his head, squinting toward the bars in the door.

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Yes, here come the goons. Right on cue to get a green fist in their masked faces. They don't even have time for their spiel about two heads, Hulk is already smashing every head that shows itself.

He heaves on a car door, ripping it from it's hinges and cutting a path through the men with masks and ray guns. Scattering them like bowling pins.

When they fall back to regroup, he turns on the wall, beating it with his fists.

BAM BAM BAM BAM BAM CRACK!!

Hulk ducks a laser blast and looks through the smoke for Kurt. Bruce made him promise to get that kid safe.

Kurt's slow and confused and scared, but he's still a creature constructed entirely to move. He'd be embarrassed if he could see himself, lurching around obstacles instead of spinning past them, running straight into a fallen piece of fencing and barely turning his facefirst tumble into a somersault, stamping solidly on one masked soldier's foot when no other way to get around her is readily apparent. At least it works. He makes it to the wall, panting and struggling but intact.

Hulk reaches down with a decisive swipe of his hand and scoops up Kurt over his shoulder. "Holdin' us up, Blue," he snipes as he puts his shoulder hard to the hole in the wall, making it large enough to go through.

Out they go, past the compound and the men chasing them in various vehicles. Hulk hits his stride once he's on flatter ground and takes off running full speed.

Considering what little he knows of the Hulk, that seems downright polite, and pretty lucid. He tries to hold on, but there's not really much to do but dangle here. He's always resented being short and light, but it's coming in handy just at the moment, even if "toted by a galloping Hulk" is a damned uncomfortable way to travel.

Makes it hard to talk, too, but he tries. "If--Oof!" that bump got him right in the chin. "You need a jump--Ow--to lose them for g-good, I can p-probably get us a little-ow--ways." He hopes. A normal sized person is hard enough.

Hulk growls, don't interrupt him while he's running! Besides, the Hulk is solid as a brick wall, would he really want to try and teleport a brick wall with him?

Finally, they've left Hydra in the dust, the Hulk slowing down near a deserted field. Who knows where, but at least they're here and in one piece. Hulk sets Kurt down, mostly on his feet. Towering over the blue mutant without really meaning to and giving him a look as if he's trying to work out what his angle is. Hulk is just suspicious of everyone.

He certainly shouldn't. He'd probably injure himself nastily in the process if he tried; he's already feeling it from the rescue plan he needed to be rescued from. But he would. It's just the way he is.

Once set down, Kurt opts to sink to his knees. He'd like to sleep forever, but there's real grass under his feet, fresh air, soft sunset light... It really doesn't matter than he feels like death warmed over or that the international most wanted monster is looking at him like he might need smashing. "So... that was fun."

After a moment, Hulk deems him -not a threat- and sits himself down with a loud THUMP on the grass. Like some giant green gorilla waiting for someone to call action so he can start grabbing at planes on top of the Empire State building.

"Stupid goons..." he grumbles, letting himself seethe about his captors. No doubt they were all getting demoted, shot, or both right now for letting not one but TWO prisoners escape.

But Hulk, like Kurt, does like being free. It's one of the few things he might admit that he likes. He flops on his back, putting his huge green hands behind his head and looking up at the fluffy clouds floating by.

"Ja, stupid. Lucky us, though." Sounds about right. After a moment, Kurt does the same, rolling onto his stomach to watch the progress of ants and the little movements of the wind in the grass. It's soothing while he tries to think through what's just happened and what will have to happen next.

He steals shy glances at his companion. Maybe if he had any sense he'd be running, but he's already seen just about all his vaguely remembered ideas about the Hulk fail to pan out. Besides, where would he run to? One thing he's sure of it he'd better not do anything to aggravate the guy. That's just common sense.

Hulk catches one of the glances and frowns. Or rather, frowns more than he already was.

"Whaddya lookin' at?" he says, maybe a little annoyed but nothing more than that. He's pretty content at the moment, which is rare for the Hulk.

And he has gone and annoyed the Hulk. Well done. "Nothing." He doesn't like to think of himself as easily intimidated, but he's very small and Hulk is very large, and he can't dismiss everything he's ever heard on the subject in one fell swoop of logic. He sets his chin firmly on the back of his hands so his line of sight can't encompass anything but ants. Maybe he'd better go after all, though where and why he can't begin to guess.

Not like it was Kurt's fault. Hulk just....doesn't do well with people. Any people. Ever.

However, Bruce can recognize what's going on here and gives Hulk a bit of a nudge. "Don't scare the kid, without him we'd still be back in that cell."

"So?" Yes, the Hulk is addressing a space of air next to him. Sometimes he sees Bruce when he's talking to him. Just go with it.

"So, maybe you should..." Bruce knows this is going to go over SO well. "...be nice."

Hulk snorts a laugh, resuming watching the clouds. "Nobody nice to a monster."

A touch of crazy, he can deal with. That's not really scary by itself. Even without understanding where that observation comes from, he gets it just fine. "Ja, tell me about it." That's not entirely fair, since he has his parents, but he can't exactly go home to them. He'd probably lead Hydra right there, if they aren't already waiting. For all intents and purposes, he's cut off from the only people who don't react to him like a horror movie prop.

Hulk glances to the side, a critical eye over Kurt's blue features. Maybe Bruce was starting to rub off on him because the next thing he said was, "You ain't scary."

"Well, I'm glad you're not scared. I still look like an illustration from The Divine Comedy." Because Western Literary Canon jokes are just the way to approach a conversation with the Hulk. He sat up and pulled his knees to his chest, then wrapped both his arms and tail around them. He was good at armor. What was he supposed to do now? He could spend a few hours luxuriating in the grass, but eventually reality was going to catch him back up.

"I ain't chopped liver." Hulk may not be as verbose as Kurt or even Bruce but he had his way of saying things. He didn't care what Kurt looked like. There were two kinds of people. People who shot at him and people who didn't. Simple as that.

Hulk shouldn't have let himself get too comfortable though. He knew, just as Bruce knew, he couldn't hide as well like this. Likely Bruce was talking him into it right now because Hulk heaves an annoyed sigh before letting himself change back.

The green form shrinks down in the space of a few seconds, Bruce barely has time to think. He's very glad to be laying down right now though, he feels like he could use a break. After being overcharged for awhile, he's usually tired and ravenously hungry after a Hulk out. "...I want to say..." he collects his thoughts back together as he sits up, "No that wasn't really fun but I think I'm late on answering you."

Kurt's pretty sure that shapeshifting doesn't actually mean it's stopped being rude to stare, but the process is fascinating and he catches himself doing it anyway. "Nein. I... stupid joke." His nervousness now is of a different kind entirely. Talking to a fellow prisoner was one thing. Talking to a stranger out in the open has been so completely forbidden for fifteen years that he might as well be keeping his hand on a hot stove. "Are you okay?" Ha, full circle. But that whole running around and shapeshifting thing looks uncomfortable, and being concerned is easier than actually trying to make sense.

Bruce actually has to hide a smile at the question. Isn't that how this all started? But he answers seriously. "Depends, are you alright?" He's genuinely concerned that the Hulk might have accidentally (or otherwise) not realized his own strength and injured Kurt in some way. He remembers vaguely what happened after he changed but it's not always clear.

"Porting with a passenger when I've been hanging upside down with a power-suppressing shock collar since April didn't do me any favors," he says bluntly. "But if I can find someplace to rest I'll be okay. It's not too much worse than when my powers woke up or however that works, und I'd overdo it und sleep for twelve hours." Alas for simpler, happier times. He'd give a lot right now for the worst consequences being falling asleep on the couch.

Bruce stretches out a few kinks in his arms and legs as best as he can while sitting. "So it's teleporting? I couldn't really ask..." They were busy with the escaping and all that. "Anywhere? From point A to point B?" From a scientific aspect, the idea is incredible.

This is easy to talk about. It's even the okay part of the probable-mutant thing. If he were just a teleporter, he can't see how it would interfere with having a regular life. "Nein, there are plenty of rules. My maximum distance is a couple kilometers. It's much easier when I can just see where I'm going, but if I know a place well I can do it that way. One passenger is fine, but two... it's not pleasant for anybody. Maybe in an emergency."

"I see." You can almost see Bruce's brain trying to turn over and figure out equations that would explain teleportation.

But he's hungry. Advanced physics would have to wait till he was fed. He stands, cracking his back backwards with a sigh. "I don't suppose your ability comes with GPS?" Because he had no idea where they were.

"Nein, I'm not even clear on what country. I was unconscious most of the trip." It's definitely not home, but he can't deduce much beyond that. "Maybe we can find a helpful sign. Because, well, asking seems awkward." The fuzzy blue kid and the man in shredded pants and nothing else. That made for an amusing mental image, if nothing else.

He hadn't even noticed the "we" that snuck in there.

"We'll find a way." For now. The moment he finds a way to get Kurt home, he's going to be doing that. No way will this kid be safe with him, not with everyone out to get him.

He starts walking, slowly at first and looking behind to see if Kurt will be keeping up or if he needs a hand. "We should try to find a town."

Kurt scrambles after him immediately. It's not pleasant, but he's hungry, too, and as night falls it's going to get cold. He's sorry to leave lying on the grass behind, but it's clearly not an option. "At least it'll be dark by then," he comment quietly. While he's sure being the Hulk is harder than being funny colored and fluffy, he does envy a chance to look normal sometimes. He nervously pulls the battered hood of his sweatshirt up. His captors never bothered to change him out of the clothes they caught him in, and they're now in almost as bad a state as Bruce's.

Bruce was semi-used to looking after himself. He was not used to company. But, in this case, he was definitely not going to leave Kurt on the side of the road and say goodbye.

"Sometimes there's a farm house or something out here." He's begged, borrowed, and stole to survive before, this would be no different.

[ooc: maybe time to call it a night? :)]

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thefuzzyguy - 2013-01-27 07:36 (UTC) - Expand

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