anti-hero ━━ peter parker

02. reminders

chapter two
stark tower, nyc

      Team dinners were a sick, psychological trap. At least, that was how Brenna saw them.

     Taking her food to the gym, she balanced it on the edge of a bench as she tried to reconfigure the training dummies, messing with a touch panel on the wall.

"Spaghetti's gettin' cold," a voice remarked.

Steve Rogers was leaning in the doorway, dressed to box in a white t-shirt and sweats. He looked like Just Some Guy, which Brenna could appreciate, never enjoying the 'regality' that came with Captain America.

     Steve was different. Steve was a friend.

"It's fine—not hungry," she mumbled, giving up on the panel and settling down on the bench. "Clint's cooking scares me, anyway."

Steve chuckled. "He has other strengths. Tony says you've been ducking him since school ended. Everything okay?"

Brenna just shook her head, giving him a dismissive wave. "I'm fine, I just—" She turned to look at him. "You ever just...need to punch something?"

"You know I do." Steve walked to the opposite side of the room, selecting a worn punching bag and hanging it from a hook. "You must—wouldn't be in here otherwise."

She stood, stretching a little. "I dunno what I need. Sometimes nothing bad happens. No one pisses me off, but still, I can't help it."

It was her burden to bear, chemical imbalances desperately grappling for the reigns since she could walk. Bruce used to say Hulk was like another driver: someone who stole your car and took it for a joyride. But, there was no Hulk for her. That rage, that destruction—it was all her, and that was what scared her.

"I know." Steve didn't really, but it meant something that he pretended. "It's not easy, kid. I get reminders every day—times I could have pulled back. You can't change it, any of it. You just gotta live with it."

"When you're strong, you're cool," Brenna pointed out, reaching under the bench and pulling out a small crate. She took out gauze and started wrapping her hands. "When I'm strong, I'm a monster."

Steve raised an eyebrow. "Yeah? Funny, I don't hear anyone calling you that."

"Ross."

His expression darkened a little. "Yeah, well, his opinion doesn't count for much—not in my book. Forget him, and that lap dog Talbot. They can say whatever they want, you just gotta prove 'em wrong."

Brenna approached the punching bag, shifting into position. Steve held the chain in place. She got off a few, quick punches. Thud. Thud. Thud.

"It's not about what they said. Barely anyone knows I exist—Brenna Banner, Brenna Baker, it's all the same. Ross knows dad's out of the picture right now, so I'm the next best thing. Talbot'll come Friday, ready to test my gamma levels and snark it up, per usual. And, I just have to sit there and smile." Thud.

"Anything else is just confirming to them what they think you are, I know. It's frustrating." Steve gripped the chain a little tighter. "Tony worked pretty damn hard for this arrangement—you staying here. Life's full of sacrifices, kid."

Thud. Thud. "Yeah. No shit."

"Language."

The punching bag shook violently which each punch, the veins in Brenna's arms starting to bulge, green creeping into her hands. One last punch snapped the chain, sending the bag flying.

Brenna stepped back, breathing labored. She flexed her hands and arms, feeling the surge. It was the only way she knew to describe it. The gamma inside her blood was like an electrical current. When it built up, it needed a release.

"Feel better?" Steve went and retrieved the bag, dragging it off to the side.

"Not really," Brenna told him stiffly.

Steve nodded, like he expected that. "Okay, then. On to Plan B." He sat on the bench, tapping the spot next to him.

Rolling her eyes, Brenna grudgingly joined him. "Seriously?"

"Seriously," Steve confirmed. "Spill it. Something happened today at school, didn't it?"

"I-It was fine. I didn't actually hurt anyone." Well, maybe that wasn't entirely true. Flash's ego had taken a (temporary) hit. "...This kid was sorta messing with Ty, so I made him knock it off."

"And, by knock it off, you mean—"

"Slammed him against the wall."

"Mmhm," Steve had the ghost of a smile on his face. "You're avoiding Tony because you know he'll give you the lecture."

The school lecture was a reoccurring one from Tony. Before Bruce...left, he had second thoughts about letting Brenna attend school. But, her education was mediocre at best, most of her home schooling done in the spare moments they'd found while on the run. It wasn't easy to practice grammar with bullets flying.

In short, school was a privilege—in Tony's eyes. That meant no failing grades, no fights, no detention. Brenna had managed to hide each and every offense from Tony so far, and wouldn't let Flash be the reason she'd have to get tutored by Happy.

"Yeah, and I don't need that from him. Not now, preferably ever." Brenna nudged Steve a little. "Thanks for not narcing on me."

When Steve's forehead creased, she laughed. "It means not ratting me out to Tony."

"In that case, you're welcome." Steve clasped her on the shoulder. "We all need reminders now and then. And, all this Ross stuff—just wait. Once you hit eighteen, he'll be out of your hair...mostly."

It was much more complicated, but Brenna declined to mention that. Steve's persistent optimism went against her nature. But, this time, she hoped there was some truth to it.

     Sitting there in silence felt good, knowing there was someone else around who didn't expect anything of her. It took Brenna a long time to muster up the courage to ask: "Do you think dad's still out there somewhere?"

     Steve folded his strong arms across his chest, leaning back as he thought over his next words very carefully. "I don't know. I really don't. But, you can't let anyone get in your head about it. Tony told me about that podcast you listen to. Stay off the internet and stop with the conspiracy theories." He flexed his jaw. "If he's out there, he's fighting really damn hard to get back here. Okay?"

     "Okay."

     It was just easier to agree with him.

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