The first few comments struck a nerve, evidence of it visible in the very obvious tick in his jaw and slow swallow. His scowl may have stayed unaffected but the tension increased further as that one word registered, nestling itself in his mind like a poisonous arrow.
Brute. Banner’s reputation preceded him of course, and admittedly the man had moments – days sometimes – when his kindness was left buried deep under pure and unrelenting rage. Considered a mad man by some, others simply questioning his temper, most however always worried or scared. Thor was no exception, and while he had learned to deal with it over time he couldn’t deny that fear was a factor, at times.
‘ You… you don’t know him okay.’ It came out in an even tone but the hint of uncertainty was there, barely audible but enough to have his frown crease deeper. ‘ You don’t get to be where he is by being weak, or soft.’
“I don’t need to know him to know that he’s dangerous.” He might be on to something here. “There’s a big difference between being hardened and being a murderer, kid. Banner’s walking a pretty thin line between the two.” If he hadn't crossed that line already. “Day’s gonna come when you’re on the wrong end of that temper and you’ll realize that. Then you’ll wish you had taken me up my offer.”
So focused was the intruder on whittling down the other’s will, slandering Banner’s name to make an escape for himself, that he doesn’t notice the sudden flash of steel out of the corner of his eye. Too late does he hear the sound of a gunshot. Brains and blood painting part of the kitchen a different as the now lifeless body crumples to the floor. Mouth still open like the shell was still thinking of trying to talk.
“You talk too much.” Bruce told the corpse dryly, lowering his arm to put his pistol back in it’s place inside his coat as he stepped through the open door and into the kitchen.