Work Text:
They should have seen the signs. They all think that.
Natasha was the one who found him. He had been lying peacefully on the floor of his flat. She had thought he had fallen asleep, and had smilingly tried to wake him to tell him to go to bed.
But he hadn't woken up.
Tony was the one who found the note. It was lying propped up against a coffee cup, the one Tony had given him for Christmas. He gripped the edge of the table, unable to stay upright on his own. He read it aloud. 'Dear Natasha, Clint, Steve, Thor, and Tony. I am so sorry, but I can't live like this anymore. I hope you'll understand. Love, Bruce."
Steve was the one who called the ambulance. He could barely hold on to the phone, he was trembling so hard. He hoped in vain that, somehow, Bruce could be given back to them, so they could all hold him tight and never let him go, never let him feel unloved ever again.
Clint was the one who found the bottle of pills. And not just one - six bottles, all empty, to overcome the Hulk within. All of them seeming to tell him that his friend was gone for good. That he had failed to be a good friend.
Thor was the one who carried Bruce to the ambulance, roaring animalistically at anyone who tried to take him away. Bruce lay limply in his arms, looking like a little child that was being carried to bed by his father.
They all held each other, sobbing, when they knew he wasn't coming back
It seemed like just yesterday, Bruce was smiling in their midst, and now they were pouring earth over his coffin.
They all felt like they had failed him.