Everything you think you know about strength is a lie. People will tell you that everyone is strong, but each person in their own way. I've discovered that sentiment to be entirely false. Because if you had told me two years ago everything that would have happened, who I'd become, and the strength that I possess; I would have thought you were nuts.
No. I've learned the hard way that strength isn't something you're born with; it's something you either create for yourself or find buried in your bones. Sometimes it just takes breaking a few of them to release it.
I should know. For me, it took breaking exactly seven to unleash it into my system like a drug. Seven broken bones, a stopped heart, and a second scientific phenomenon. At least, that's how I like to think of it. It makes my story sound so much more heroic and awe-inspiring than it truly is.
Mom always told me I'm special, which is one way to put it. Mostly because from the day I was born, everyone knew that there was something different about me. Of course, as a kid, I didn't quite understand. I thought that every kid could do what I could. The first day of pre-school was an abrasive life lesson on that matter. Because while other kids played with imaginary friends, I played with the shadows that molded into whatever I wanted.
Now, I'm fifteen, and there's much more to me than what there was six months ago. Only a few people know the whole truth, but those who do all repeat the same phrases. Mostly words of affirmation and unfounded promises that things will get better, but I don't think they understand.
Everyone thinks I'm going to be a hero—that I'll be something exceptional. They all think I'll live up to the names created for people like me. Names like ExtraOrdinary, inhuman, mutant, and—my personal favorite—Remarkable. Somehow, I don't think those terms quite describe me.
I tolerate Remarkable, but that's the only one that feels a little bit right. Nothing about me is 'normal,' and I don't mean it in the way most people do. I'm genetically different from most of humanity. Still, the ones like me were either born with abilities or had genetic markers that later enabled a scientific phenomenon to make them one.
My thoughts are interrupted by the bustling crowd of the airport as we finally exit the plane. People are rushing from one terminal to the next, not caring about who they run into or whose in their way. I watch as Jim and Mom keep their hands linked and constantly check over their shoulders to make sure I'm not separated from them.
It wasn't until I spot the sign with "the Ashton's and Lia Bright" written on it that I actually allow myself to relax. A part of me has been undeniably anxious about my dad somehow forgetting we were coming, or one of a million things going wrong. Now, I can't help but smile as I run up to the broad-shouldered guy with the sign in hand. "Happy?" I ask him with a smile. Dad was right, he still looks perpetually grumpy. "Dad told me you'd be picking us up."
"It's been a while hasn't it?" He asks with no change in emotion. I nod in reply with a smile, and he barely cracks one in return. "You still as much trouble as I remember? Because you still have the same smile your dad used to give me before he'd sneak off."
"Yeah, I kind of inherited it and that habit from him." I tease, much to Happy's obvious dismay. "Don't worry, I've been told I'm much less of a handful then him."
"We'll see about that." Happy retorts as he takes my bag from me and introduces himself to my mom and Jim. "Pleasure to meet you, Mr. and Mrs. Ashton. If you'll follow me, I have the car waiting outside to take you to Mr. Stark's."
I quickly smile at Mom, who tries to hide her obvious annoyance. Each time she and dad meet, there's usually an argument or some sort of drama. Still, they do their best to minimize it when I'm around. Jim, on the other hand, beams widely as we follow Happy to the town car. "This is so cool." He excitedly whispers.
Jim has been so amazing throughout all the drama. In fact, he was practically star-struck when he finally met Tony. I thought that he was going to pass out from how excited he was. He managed to keep his cool and geek out with my dad about the work both of them are doing. The two of them have gotten along splendidly since then. It made me happy to see both of my dad's getting along so well.
"I'm so excited to finally get to see everything here. Tony's told me so much about it. Plus, we'll get to see the newly-designed tower." I cheer as I bounce on my feet. "Did you know it runs entirely on sustainable, clean energy? Tony told me he got the basis for the idea off of my prototype. I can't wait to see the official blueprints and modifications he made to get it running on that scale." I ramble as we all squeeze into the car. It's another bad habit of mine.
Whenever I get anxious, my instincts have me ramble, hide away, or lash out. Luckily, I happen to be rambling. It's better than the other two. Those never end well, but people usually understand when they happen. Just like right now, Mom and Jim both listen to me kindly as I continuously jabber on about anything and everything that comes to mind on the twenty-minute drive to Stark Tower.
This is only my second time visiting my dad since I first met him at the age of eleven, and even that was nothing compared to this. That was two and a half years ago when Jim was coming here for a conference, so my dad convinced mum to let me come with Jim and spend the time with him. It was the best vacation, but things went downhill shortly after.
He took the week off and spent the whole time with me. We stopped by the Statue of Liberty, got traditional New York pizza, and even worked on some new designs for suit prototypes. It was the first time I got to really know him, the first time I saw the look of pride reflected in his eyes when he looked at me. I've longed for that look every day since.
After that visit, Tony got busy. The only time I ever talked to him was a rare phone call, and no matter how much he promised or I begged, he never came to visit or see my big events.
It's that longing that pushed me here, in more ways than I thought possible. My hubris and desire for my parent's approval spurred everything, and it still does. I don't blame them, of course; it no ones fault entirely. Still, it leads to one of the few things I regret— that night.
The rain tumbled down heavier than it had all season, and I made sure to securely wrap my project in the tarp. There couldn't be anything exposed to the downpour outside. "Dad, can you check it over? I wanna make sure it's covered." I call to Jim as he packs up the last of his tools. "It's still not stable enough to handle any kind of moisture—or any extreme conditions, really."
"Don't worry, Lia. It's a great design. We'll make sure nothing happens to it." He smiles as he rests an arm on my shoulder with a wide smile. "You have a first place prize to win after all."
"I don't know about that." I chuckle nervously. It's been nearly three months of work to get this battery running. It's part of my project for the nationwide science fair—clean, long-term, sustainable energy. Something that could very well replace the need for fossil fuels permanently.
"Come on, Lia. We really should get going. Your mom will be home soon, and she'll be worried if we aren't there shortly after her."
"Trust me, I know." I sigh as I lift the large, tarp-covered contraption into my arms and follow Jim out to the Oscorps van they lent him for transporting some of his work. The two of us walk along in silence, both of us getting drenched for the sake of keeping the umbrella over the battery. "We're gonna get lectured about catching our deaths, you know," I call over the sound of the pattering rain.
"Yeah, yeah." Jim chuckles.
"Lia," Mom calls, pulling me back to the present. "we're here." I look out the car's window up at the spiraling skyscraper in awe. "You can go ahead. Jim and I are gonna head over to the hotel, but you're welcome to stay with your dad if you want."
I barely manage to nod as Happy opens the door for me and passes me my bag from the trunk. My heart pounds so violently in my chest it sends tremors through my fingertips, which twitch as I open the lobby door and head inside. "Miss Bright?" The secretary asks as she rounds her desk, and once she's received confirmation from me, hands me a keycard before directing me to the private elevator and resuming her station.
Quiet elevator music hums through invisible speakers as I scan the keycard. There's a momentary loss of balance for me as it zooms up the multitude of floors to the reserved top floors only accessible to Tony and a select few others. I pull my phone out of my pocket and anxiously type out a text to Trish and James back in England. They forced me to promise that I would let them know when I landed and everything that happens to me.
The moment the elevator doors open, my head is filled with a heart-wrenching silence. The tentative footfalls of my converse against the dark tile echo through the room. Nerves flood my senses as I bite my lips so hard I nearly taste blood. I silently pray to whatever higher power there is that he didn't forget—that he's been just as anxious for this as I've been.
I swear my lungs start to constrict little by the little with every breath. A part of me wants to turn back, climb in the elevator, and track down a taxi to hide away at the hotel like this never happened.
Those fears only amplify as shoes click against the tile floors, and my Dad's long-long-term girlfriend appears. "You're early." She smiles, and I can tell she's doing her best to remain casual.
"Well, I think Happy was getting sick of my chattering. I'm pretty sure he broke at least three laws on the drive over." I joke as I unconsciously pull my sleeves over my palms. There isn't another second to blink before Pepper is in front of me and preparing to wrap me in a bone crushing hug before I stick up my hands in warning
"It's good to see you, Lia." She teases as she pulls back ever so slightly and tries not to let the hurt show as she looks over me. "Gosh, you've grown so much. What have you been eating? Fertilizer?"
"Don't tell my mum this, but half the stuff she feeds me tastes like it. I usually just made excuses to go out for chips with my friends." There's an uncomfortable silence that wraps between us. I glance over her shoulder expecting him to come in at any second, but the truth settles like a led weight in my stomach. "He's not here." It leaves my lip as a statement, a confirmation of my worst fears.
Pepper's smile falters for a split second before returning to its natural state with a little bit more force behind it. "There was an emergency with a few things that he's been working on for you that he had to go take care of." She continues to tell me all a list of reasons why he's gone, but I just tune them out entirely. After a long second, she seems to see the glaze that settles over my eyes. "You must be tired from the flight. I'll get you settled in. Your dad made sure there were a few basic bedrooms here in case he needed to crash for a little bit."
"I don't need much," I tell her in a whisper of exhaustion. She was right. The 'bedroom' isn't much more than a twin sized bed and a desk, but it's enough for me. "Goodnight," I call over my shoulder to her, hoping she gets the message.
My duffel bag drops off my shoulder and hits the floor with a thud, and I listen to the sound of Pepper's retreating footsteps before I let myself break. I bite my bottom lip as the tears build up in my eye casting a watery haze over the room. All the while I keep telling myself I should have known better, and it was stupid of me to hope for things to be as perfect as the fantasy I've built in my head all these years.
Still, I'm human, fated to foolish hoping; but I'm also made of glass and shadow. Fragile and brittle until I'm broken, and nothing but sharp edges remain. Now the world is going to have to deal with the damage.