Shipwrecked and Comatose

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Shipwrecked and Comatose
Request for
A/N: Bruce is depressed.
Again, missing requester. I found my reply to her comment but not her original comment. Let me know if she's still on here.

He stared at your unconscious body, desperately fighting to keep his tears at bay. He could break down and cry as soon as he was in his own room with no one to walk in on him. Of course, that meant he'd actually have to leave your side for more than a bathroom break, and he wasn't ready to do that.
He watched as your chest rose and fell peacefully, filling with air with the help of your life support machine. The heart monitor beeped periodically, informing the world that you were still alive, regardless of the doctors' doubts (Bruce's and the hospital's).
"She'll be alright," Tony would say, repeating it to the doctor like a mantra. Bruce would nod slowly, like a zombie, not fully believing the billionaire but appreciating the sentiment.
"It's not your fault," Steve would insist, patting a purple-clad shoulder with a friendly grip. Bruce would hang his head in guilt and defeat, not believing the soldier at all.
"Yes it is," he would whisper to himself when the others had left, leaving a grief-stricken doctor and a comatose you alone.
"Bruce, you gotta get some rest," Natasha instructed. "You'll be no good to her when she wakes up if you're falling over from sleep deprivation."
"If she wakes up..." Bruce replied brokenly.
"She will wake up," the redhead insisted. "Just give it time. You know, they say that comatose patients are aware of their surroundings, and they can hear everything you say. After you get some food and some sleep, you could come in and talk to her. I'm sure she doesn't blame you."
"She should," he whispered. "It was all my fault. She wouldn't be here if I had been paying attention."
"Bruce-"
He shook his head. "Just leave me be."
Natasha sighed in defeat and left.

The next week went about the same way, but with Bruce falling asleep in his chair. Bags formed beneath the doctor's eyes, indicating his lack of proper sleep. The tired paleness of his face exhibited his lack of proper nourishment. He was a mess, but he refused to leave your side.
"Bruce," Maria tried. "Come on. We'll stay with her if you want. Just go get a sandwich and take a nap. Please."
"I can't," he yawned. "I don't deserve to enjoy myself while she's in here, probably dying."
"Lady (y/n) is not dying," Thor insisted. "She is much too strong. She will fight this."
"You don't know that," the doctor argued. "She could just stop any day now. That heart monitor could flatline."
"That's what this is about," Maria realized. "It's not just that you blame yourself; you don't want to leave the room in case something changes."
He nodded weakly.
"We can bring you some food," Maria suggested. "I'll even bring you a pillow and blanket so you can get some sleep without leaving the room."
He opened his mouth to argue, but a yawn took over, making him nod his head. He knew that he needed food and sleep, that he'd be beyond useless if you woke up while he was this exhausted.
Thor and Maria left for about half an hour, returning with Bruce's favorite sub sandwich and a feather pillow and fleece blanket.
"We can ask for a cot too, if you'd like," Maria said. Bruce nodded around a mouthful of sandwich. Maria smiled – it was good to see him eating. She asked a nearby nurse for a cot, and she nodded quickly before going to fetch one.
After eating and being left alone, Bruce continued sitting by your bed, holding your hand weakly in his. He took what Natasha said to heart and decided to speak to you before going to sleep. "Hey there, (y/n)," he whispered, his thumb rubbing small circles on the back of your hand. "Nat says that people in comas can hear everything going on around them, and sometimes it helps them wake up. Thought I'd give it a shot." He coughed lightly into his arm, choking back tears. "I'm so sorry. I know you wouldn't blame me for this but I still feel like it was my fault. I could have saved you. I could have paid attention. I was too distracted by you to focus on my work and I let the beaker bubble over and explode. I should have made you wear a lab suit so you'd be protected." Tears escaped his eyes, angrily wiped away with the back of his hand. "I'm so sorry. I don't think I can forgive myself until you wake up. If you wake up." He leaned down, pressing a kiss to your hand. "Please wake up, baby."
With a sigh he let your hand go, wrapping up in the fleece blanket and laying down on the cot.

Bright lights flooded your vision through tiny slits, like barely open curtains. The curtains slowly opened, allowing more of the room to come into focus. You looked around, taking in the white walls and rectangular window and beeping heart monitor. Looking to your right you saw a closed door and a sleeping body on a hospital cot.
You groaned softly as you moved into a sitting position, the sound waking the softly snoozing brunette. He sat up immediately, eyes lighting up upon finding you awake. "(y/n!)"
"Hey Bruce," you smiled softly, voice hoarse from a month without use. He stood and rushed to your side, pulling you into a gentle hug, cradling your head against his chest.
"I was so worried," he whispered into your hair.
"I know," you smiled softly, looking up at him. "I heard what you said, about blaming yourself. And you're right; I don't blame you."
"Do you forgive me?" he asked softly.
"Of course I do," you grinned, tilting your head up to press your lips to his. He responded immediately, grateful to have another chance to kiss you and hold you close and tell you how much he loved you.
"I would have never forgiven myself if you didn't wake up," he whispered against your lips.
"I'm awake now," you noted, scooting over to give him room to sit beside you. "So no more blaming yourself. Not while I'm around."
"I promise," he smiled, wrapping his arm around your shoulders and pulling you into his side. You cuddled immediately, albeit weakly, resting your hand on his chest and your head on his shoulder. The nurse soon came in, checking your vitals and asking if you were hungry. She went to fetch you breakfast, leaving you to cuddle into Bruce, feeling his warmth against your side and his lips on your head.

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