[Bruce can't really relate to that feeling. He always wants to be alone-- or so he tells himself. The reality is that he's been alone for so long and so many years, decades, really, stretching back before the Hulk and interrupted only by Betty, that it seems normal to him. What he expects. He's never going to find solace or trust and the fact that he is, here, in some small measure finding it on the turtle, is still bizarre to him. Not something he's gone looking for, when solitude is what feels safe.
He understands desiring company as a common attribute to the rest of humanity, though, and nods.] The dreams were... unnerving. [That's a vast understatement. Death had given Bruce a much, much deeper respect for Malicant than any coyly worded network post could.]
Well, I'm not really great company, but at least I gave you food. [It's his own awkward attempt at lightening things a little, trying to steer them away from the seriousness he'd inadvertently started to lead them into.]
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He understands desiring company as a common attribute to the rest of humanity, though, and nods.] The dreams were... unnerving. [That's a vast understatement. Death had given Bruce a much, much deeper respect for Malicant than any coyly worded network post could.]
Well, I'm not really great company, but at least I gave you food. [It's his own awkward attempt at lightening things a little, trying to steer them away from the seriousness he'd inadvertently started to lead them into.]