I peered into every store front window we passed, unable to hide my excitement as I examined all the different styles of clothes that were displayed on manikins. Technically, I had never gone out shopping for myself like this. The things I had back home were things that my father had picked for me, and occasionally—very rarely—he would ask my opinion on a color. Of course, in my father's eyes, being able to choose my own clothing was too much freedom. Every time I asked, he would say, 'What, you don't like my sense of fashion? Come now, Annie, that's insulting'. Was it, though?
"Isn't that gorgeous?" I exclaimed, pushing my finger to the glass, where a manikin wearing a deep red satin dress stood. It was low cut and layered towards the bottom, something that my father would have found way too elegant. Besides, he was never one for the color red. Bruce chuckled under his breath beside me and nodded his head.
"Yeah, I like that one. I liked the last few too," he said, his smile reflected in the glass. I turned towards him, suddenly embarrassed, and gave him a sympathetic look.
"I'm sorry, I'm being annoying. I need to calm down." I took in a few deep breaths. You're a grown woman, Annabelle. Stop acting like a five year old. You're only looking at clothes. Still, this was something so different than the life I'd had before, something that seemed trivial yet so freeing. I couldn't help myself. I would try to tone it down with Bruce in mind.
He chuckled.
"You don't have to calm down. This is entertaining." He grinned, a somewhat laid back look in his eyes. He looked calmer than I'd seen him so far. Even though the streets were filled and cars were honking in every direction, he seemed to feel safe here. "Besides, I don't blame you. This is a new experience for you, obviously. You deserve to be excited," he continued.
"You're sure? I'm not too much?" I asked, to which he chuckled again.
"You're just fine." He smiled. "Should we go inside here, then? This place looks nice. You have to stop browsing and actually start shopping here soon." He pointed to the entrance of the shop, looped lettering scrawled across the door with a name I didn't recognize.
"This place is so fancy, though. I don't really need anything fancy," I said, stuffing my hands in the deep pockets of the sweat pants Tony had given me. My appearance now was in stark contrast to what the mannequins were dressed up in. People would surely look at me when I entered the store and know immediately that I didn't belong, and the thought of all those eyes on me made my heart beat a little bit faster.
"Tony has plenty of...celebrations. You'll probably need something like this at some point." Bruce answered, watching me. I rocked back and forth on my heels. I almost corrected him, letting him know that I wouldn't be staying for long, that something was bound to happen to take me away from all this, but I couldn't form the words to do it. For now it would be nice to pretend that I'd be staying with them forever. It would be like some ongoing dream, one that I'd never need to wake up from. I knew better, but the sentiment was nice.
"I don't even have any money." As if to prove my point, I pulled out the deep pockets.
"That's fine. Tony's treat, remember?" He dug a credit card out of his pocket—most likely Tony's—and flashed it at me.
"I don't want to waste his money on something silly like this,"
"I don't think he would mind if you bought a few dresses. He has plenty to spend. Really, he'd be more than happy to help you out."
"You don't think he'll be mad at all?"
"Not at all." He gave me a reassuring smile. I took a deep breath and nodded.
"Then I guess we're going in here. But I won't buy too much, I promise."
That was a lie. In just a half an hour I was crammed in a dressing room piled with dresses and fancy clothing, Bruce waiting beyond the door. The first few dresses ended up disappointments, not fitting exactly right, but by the time I got to the fourth one things started looking better. This dress was a light shade of purple, bunched up at the bottom, strapless. It hugged my figure nicely, but not too tight, offering the perfect balance. I brushed some wrinkles from the fabric, pulling my hair out from behind me and pushing it forward, where my dark, wavy curls blended nicely with the color of the dress. I could hardly recognize myself as I looked in the mirror, the dress far more elegant than anything I had ever been in. I looked like a princess. Now, all I needed was a tiara.
"Are you, uh, doing okay in there?" Bruce called from outside, his voice muffled by the door. He must have heard the lack of movement and found it suspicious. I cleared my throat and tore my eyes away from the mirror, looking instead at the silver door handle.
"Yeah, I'm okay."
"Just checking. Found anything you like yet?"
"Actually, yeah. I did," I said, glancing at my reflection once more before turning again, placing my hand on the handle. The metal was cold against my skin. I hesitated for a moment before turning it and peeking out at Bruce, his back against the wall across from me. "Do you...want to see?" I asked slowly. He looked at me, a bit taken aback.
"Sure. Okay." He smiled slightly. I pushed the door open fully and stepped out into the narrow hall of the dressing room, immediately feeling silly. Why was I putting myself out like this? I should have turned around and gone back in to try everything else on, yet here I was, displaying myself. A woman nearby, hanging a few silk shirts on a rack, turned and remarked, "Oh, how beautiful! That looks perfect." I could feel my cheeks flush with color. Bruce, still propped against the wall, ran a hand through his hair. I opened my mouth to apologize for potentially making him uncomfortable with this ridiculous scene, but his expression stopped me. A warm smile had grown on his face, his eyes sparkling ever so slightly as he examined the dress.
"This looks wonderful," he said, meeting my eyes. "You have good taste."
"You really think so?"
"I do."
"Thank you." I smiled, though I was certain my cheeks were still flushed. "I was a bit worried that it wouldn't fit in the sides..."
"Well, let's see." Bruce gently took my arms and lifted them to the side, turning me a bit, his eyes focused on the stitching in the dress. I held my breath and stood still, waiting until he turned me back forward and dropped my arms.
"Looks exactly right to me. Like it was fitted just for you."
"I thought so too. So, you think I should buy it?"
"Absolutely,"
"I'm afraid to look at the price tag..." I mumbled, suddenly aware of the little strip of paper that was tied to the zipper.
"Don't even look at it. Really, Tony's a billionaire. These kinds of things...they're nothing to him. I wouldn't worry about it at all." Despite this, he procured his glasses from his shirt pocket and wiped the lenses, slipping them over his face and grabbing at the tag of the dress where it hung near the side. I couldn't read his expression, but something in the energy around him skipped.
"Totally fine," he said again, sounding slightly less sure, yet amused. "Don't worry about it."
"I guess he does kind of owe me for pushing me off a building," I muttered. Bruce chuckled.
"There you go," he said. I took my leave and shut the door behind me as I entered the dressing room, taking one last glance at myself before I slipped out of the gown and surveyed the pile of clothes still waiting to be tried on. They all looked so nice—too nice—but I had spent a lot of time picking them out, so I figured I could at least try them all on. Of course I'd only need a few. I dressed myself up in what I'd chosen, leaving the room again to ask Bruce's opinion.
After a few outfits it was clear that I was making a show out of myself for Bruce, strutting out of the room and twirling around in front of him, waiting for his approval. Each time Bruce would complement the fit or design of the dress, his smile never faltering. The people passing in and out of the store probably thought we were together, a few of them shooting us looks as we laughed at how much of a fool I was making myself. But, honestly, I didn't think I could see Bruce that way, and I knew he felt the same. I could feel his admiration for me, but it wasn't romantic. It was...warm. The colors in his aura were surprisingly calm given his difficult circumstances. His show of kindness was alarming and new, but it wasn't bad. It was something I had craved my entire life. When I was with my father, all I wanted was acceptance. No matter what I did, no matter how many books I read or how many languages I learned or how many men I persuaded to help support him, he never once looked at me with approval. Being here with Bruce, I felt I was getting what I'd been missing; after all these years, I finally had a father figure that admired me and wanted to help me, despite the very little time we'd been aquainted. Of course, Bruce was far from my father. But there was something about that look on his face every time I ran out of that room to show him something new, something that made me feel special, and that seemed close enough to me. Maybe it was all for show anyway. I didn't mind.
In an hour and a half we were out of that store, bags in hand, heading to our next destination. We hit at least 10 stores before I felt I finally had everything I needed. I could have shopped all day, but I could tell Bruce was getting tired so I gave it a rest. There would be other opportunities to shop, I realized. I was no longer confined. I had free will. Until the inevitable happened and I was torn away from the tower, I would have the chance to make outings like these, and I'd be able to express myself freely.
"Are you sure you don't need anything else?" Bruce asked, as we walked back to the car we came in. I shook my head, giving him a grateful smile.
"I'm okay. This is more than enough." Bruce popped the trunk and I shoved my bags in the back, barely able to fit everything in. We had to slam it closed, and I made sure nothing had a chance to fall out before sliding into the seat and buckling myself in. Bruce got in next to me and started the ignition, putting the car in drive. He glanced over at me, his hand still on the key.
"Do you know how to drive a car, Annabelle?" he asked. I flushed and looked down at my hands, running one thumb over the other.
"Not exactly," I said quietly, taking a deep breath.
"Not exactly..?"
"...no. I don't." I admitted. He chuckled beside me.
"That's nothing to be ashamed of. We'll have to get you a car and teach you. Not that you'll need to actually drive much around here. You can get a taxi or other means of transportation. Still, it's a nice skill to have." I nodded slowly.
"I never really had a reason to drive back home. But if I ever go anywhere where I need to, I suppose it would be a valuable skill to learn."
"We'll help get you sorted out." With that he put the car in reverse, pulling out into the busy traffic behind us. We sat in silence, the buzz of the car engine the only sound besides the few car horns here and there. I took in a deep breath and looked out the side window, watching the people walk along the sidewalk, living out their lives. I wondered what it was like to be them, walking around the streets of Manhattan, busy with thoughts of work and family and whatever else it was that city people thought about. I'd never had to worry about any of that. The only thing I was used to worrying about was if my father was in a good mood. Beyond that, nothing much else mattered. I was so different from these people around me, their minds full of life. My mind was only full of doubt and the occasional curiosity.
"I owe you one, Bruce," I said after a while, my mind still wandering.
"You don't owe me anything, Annabelle. I was happy to do this." He was tapping his fingers across the steering wheel. I smiled to myself faintly, resting my forehead against the glass.
"Is the city pretty at night?" I asked.
"Some parts of it, yeah. Why?"
"I've just...always wanted to see the city lights at night. I could see the faint lights of Chitose from my house, but that's usually as close as I got. And, of course, I was wandering around New York the other night...but I was too disoriented and tired to even look at the lights." I closed my eyes, turning my neck a bit so that the side of my head was against the window. It was cool; soothing.
"We can all go, one night. How does that sound? We can even go to Times Square."
"That sounds amazing..." I said, a bit on the quieter side. I could just imagine standing under all those lights, the energy surrounding them so bright and soft like silk. The moon would shine brilliantly over the tops of the buildings, the warm light pooling across the streets. I had never wanted something so bad, at that moment, the image too irresistible to shake. And, with my new acquaintances by my side, the night would be even more magical. Even if something did happen, and my father did come back to get me, I would make sure to visit there first.
We pulled into the garage of the tower and I unbuckled my seat belt, leaving the car. I pulled all of my bags out from the trunk, nearly spilling everything in the process. Bruce quickly grabbed a stray bag that was hanging precariously from my arms, taking a few more from me before heading inside. I followed, using my elbow to shut the trunk. We came to the main room, where nearly everyone was sitting around. The T.V. was blaring; news flashed across the screen.
"Get everything you needed?" Tony asked, looking over the back of the couch at me. I nodded and smiled.
"Yes, I did. Thank you so much, Tony. I'm very grateful."
"No problem, kid." He smiled.
"I'm going to go change," I said nodding at him before heading up the stairs. I was eager to get into something more comfortable, or, at least something that actually fit. The sweatpants-t-shirt combo was certainly comfortable enough, but too baggy and relaxed for my taste. I entered the room they'd left me in the night before and set my bags down, sifting through them until I found something nice to wear. I pulled out a light blue blouse and some white shorts, stripping off the other clothes and folding them nicely on the dresser. Jarvis would surely get them later. I examined myself in one of the elongated mirrors at the edge of the room, brushing down the blouse. There was one wrinkle that I just couldn't seem to get flat, no matter how many times I smoothed my hand over it. I knew the clothes were going to be thrown into a washer—and honestly they probably should have been washed before I put them on—but I wanted them to look presentable for now. I wanted everyone to see me in my own clothes, my own style, my own personality.
The wrinkle continued to be difficult as I left the room and headed back to the group. I mumbled to myself and pushed my hand down on the fabric, simultaneously missing the first step to the stairs and losing my footing. A weird sound escaped my lips as I stumbled forward, the back of my heel knocking against the second step as I tried to regain my footing. In a flash of movement, and hair, Thor was suddenly in front of me, grabbing my arms to steady me out. I blinked in surprise and tried to catch my breath, my heart racing, pounding rapidly in my chest. Those little bits of electrical currents ran out along my skin. They seemed to almost be a physical representation of an adrenaline rush; maybe that's exactly what they were. Thor, who was still holding my arms, examined them just as curiously as I did.
"Are you alright, Annabelle Green?" he asked after a moment, giving me a once over to check for injuries. It felt as if my heart were going to beat itself right out of my chest, right through the skin. After his inspection he held my arm slightly to the side, watching my skin closely, keeping his eyes locked on the little currents of blue light until they started to subside. I couldn't help but watch his face as he did this, some of his blonde hair falling across his cheek. He looked perplexed.
"I'm okay," I said finally. "Thank you."
"You seem to enjoy falling," he said with a smirk, and I was brought back to last night, when falling up the stairs had been the problem. He finally met my eyes, that smirk still strong on his lips.
"I've become clumsy, I guess. I'll try not to stumble into you anymore." I said this lightheartedly, though I certainly would do my best to be careful. Perhaps the addition of the abilities had altered my balance, which was typically very good until now. My body was undergoing all sorts of changes after what had happened, I guess.
"It is no problem. At least you know I am here to catch you." His smile broadened. I felt the blood rush to my face. It was such a corny line, but he seemed entirely serious. If only the guys at my father's party had been as charming, even unintentionally. Instead, they were usually buzzed and spouting all kinds of condescending scientific facts, most of which I already knew about. In those times I just had to nod and smile, act the part. Do what father said.
"I'm going to head downstairs and give these back," I said, realizing I'd been standing there, still watching his face.
"Be careful, Annabelle Green. Protect yourself and your abilities." I nodded, trying not to let the odd feeling that bubbled up inside of me at his words be conveyed by my face. I stepped past him as he dropped my arms and descended the few remaining steps.
The large TV in the main room was still turned on, images flashing across it, the sound set loud. I rested my elbows against the back of the couch, looking up at the big screen.
"...news? You're watching the news? Not something that's actually entertaining?" I asked, mildly disappointed. I had spent my whole life watching the news, next to other stupid 'educational programming' shows, and I was hoping that there would at least be something good to watch here. I'd heard wonders about reality TV shows that were nothing but women yelling at each other, and even though that sounded completely ridiculous, they were something so mind-numbing that I found myself at least a little curious.
"If you don't like it, then you can leave." Tony said, turning his neck and flashing me a grin. I rolled my eyes and opened my mouth to protest, but was suddenly interrupted by the jingling sound of the doorbell. It was surprisingly normal, given what the tower was. All this high-tech equipment and décor, and yet Tony had still installed a doorbell that sounded the same as any other.
"Someone is at the door, sir." Jarvis piped up, to which Tony sighed.
"Yeah, yeah, I heard it. Anyone want to get that?" He glanced around the room at the few other faces and then at me. "Moment of truth, kid. Can you answer a door?"
"Of course I can," I shot back.
"And be polite to my guests?"
"Trust me, I know how to be polite to guests."
"I definitely want to hear more about that." He shook my head and walked towards the elevator, pushing the button and then shooting a look at Tony, who was making weird eyes at me from across the room. Had what I said implied what I'd actually been told to due with guests at my father's? Probably. But that certainly wasn't a story I was going to be telling anyone here.
I jogged around the corner as the elevator doors opened at the bottom, hoping whoever was here hadn't left. Wasn't Jarvis supposed to check on these things and let people in and out? Then again, the way he'd worded his question made me think that this was another weird test of Tony's, some examination of my ability. I opened the door and tried my best to put on a polite smile, though it already started fading as terror rose in my gut. There was something wrong behind that door, but I was already opening it, and it was too late.
"Stark Tower, how may I he-..." My words died on my lips as it hit me all at once. I backed up slowly and let go of the support of the door, letting my hand fall beside me. My feet scuffed against the tile as I backed away, but the figure I knew all too well grabbed me by the arms and yanked me forward, squeezing my skin. Just being close to him made my heart beat quickly and irregularly, my breathing becoming taxed and difficult. I examined his face, that chiseled, German face, and then did something that I didn't expect. I screamed.
"Annie, please, contain yourself. It's like you aren't even happy to see me," he murmured, his voice low and intimidating. I broke off my scream and looked away from him, letting my thick hair cover my face as tears sprang to my eyes.
"What are you doing here, father?" I asked, my voice shaking. He began to say something, a German sound rolling off his tongue, before he was suddenly interrupted by Steve entering. His glorious figure was standing in the doors of the elevator, having made it down very quickly. I realized Jarvis must have given video feed of who was at the door and the crew had pieced it together. Tony, getting off the elevator after Steve, looked at me with full realization of his grave mistake.
I squeezed my eyes shut, silently praying that they would just go away and leave my father to take me back. I didn't want all of the trouble I knew this was going to cause. I couldn't open my trembling lips to say anything, though, so I only stood there looking pathetic. My father's menacing laugh slipped from his mouth quietly, his breath hot against my face. He was too close. I felt like my heart was going to cease, crushed under the weight of his presence. He gripped my shoulders and pushed me at an arm's length away, an odd sparkle in his eyes.
"How interesting that they took you in here," he said, quietly, his words directed at me, then put on a smile and faced the others. By now everyone was off the elevator, watching with caution. "I thank you for taking this wretched child in. I do hope she hasn't caused you any trouble." His English always sounded too sharp to me, too German, but I couldn't imagine it being any other way.
"No trouble at all. We like her," Tony said, stuffing his hands deep in his pockets.
"She is quite a charming thing, isn't she?" My father turned his eyes back on me, the same green color that I saw every day in the mirror. Yet his seemed darker, somehow, like they were overcast by the shadow of his cruel personality. "Still. You've disobeyed and disrespected me, Annabelle. And you've cost me an incredible amount of money with the stunt you pulled at our home. What were you thinking?" I couldn't speak. The glint in his eye was the only indication that he was almost amused by this conversation, amused by the power that he could clearly see he had over me. I couldn't move a muscle. I had these abilities now, these incredible and dangerous abilities that could send people through walls and shut down entire towers, yet I couldn't even imagine using them on my father. I couldn't lay a finger on him.
"Sounds like you had it coming, honestly. Besides, sometimes a fresh start can be good," Tony chimed in. I wished he would shut up. He didn't know what he was getting into.
"You will find a way to repay me the debt you've caused," my father said, his dangerous glare still centered on me.
"Yes, sir," I said quietly.
"I can't imagine what came over you."
"You kept me locked up there, and..." I trailed off, my father's internal energy spiking violently. I knew what that meant. I tensed prematurely, before my father's hand even collided with my jaw bone, knocking my head violently to the side from the force of the slap. My cheek immediately stung, and I knew a red mark was quickly making itself visible. I squeezed my eyes shut tight and hung my head, embarrassed and ashamed.
"I have provided everything for you. You have lived comfortably. Don't you dare say I mistreated you in any way," he said.
"If you ever hit her again, there's going to be a very big problem," Steve spat, stepping forward. Something in him was a lot darker than it had been before. I paled as I stood there, watching my father, irritation in his features. My father was manipulative, clever, and cruel, and he would always find a way out of whatever situation he was put into. I could tell that he was thinking up a way to make his slap appropriate. The disdain in his eyes as he sized up Steve scared me.
"Are you aware, Captain Rogers, that the police have been searching for Annabelle? She's a missing person now. As of this morning, I informed the police that she was still alive. Because I knew she was." My father was already weaving his web, carefully trying to turn the situation around.
"She's an adult. She can go wherever she wants. We aren't responsible for her coming here. She came here by choice." I was surprised that no one other than Steve was speaking up now, despite Tony's earlier remarks, though maybe theywere just surveying the predicament to see if there was a logical way to do things. Steve was just angry, passionate, but that would do nothing against the way my father operated.
"You're right. But even adults can be kidnapped. And your 'kidnapping' of my daughter can be all over the headlines," he said.
"We didn't kidnap her."
"Oh, but I can make it seem that way. You'll be on my side...right Annabelle?" My father turned to me. An icy chill ran through my veins as I felt everyone's eyes on me, waiting for my answer.
"I-I..." I was at war with myself. All of them had been so kind to me for the short period of time I had been here. But, my father was my father. Even if I did hate him, he had always controlled my life, and he still did. Honestly, I was afraid of what he would do to get me to side with him, and I didn't want to cause anyone any trouble. The last thing I wanted was for anyone to get hurt. "Yes, sir," I said, defeated. My stomach churned with disgust for myself as the words left my mouth, but this was what I had to do. The others, irritated and ready to fight, didn't realize that I was saving them a boatload of trouble, and maybe even pain. I wasn't worth that much.
"That's a good girl." My father grasped my arm and pulled me up from my slouched position, settling me next to him. "Now, Annabelle and I are going home now. And no one will hear of any of this. Understood?"
"Never," Steve muttered angrily.
"Pity." He mumbled, in German. I quickly snapped my face towards him, watching as he reached his hand down and fumbled in his pocket, bringing out a sizable knife. I recognized this as one of my grandmother Hana's family heirlooms; it was an old dagger that she used to carry around during her days in the war. Fear shot through me.
"Father, don't hurt anyone. Please!" I yelled frantically, grabbing at his arm. He knocked me back and lifted the blade to my throat swiftly, silencing me. I bit down hard on the inside of my cheek, trying to stay calm. My father always had the perfect plan. No one was going to make a move if they thought my life was at risk. The blade was cold against my skin. It wasn't enough to draw blood yet, but I felt the pressure of it like it was suffocating me.
"We are leaving now. Don't protest." The room fell silent, silent enough to hear a pin drop on the roof. My eyes flicked to Steve, who had frozen where he was standing. Even he wouldn't risk this. My father nodded at them and slowly began to back out of the doorway, the knife still pressed up against my bare skin, raising goosebumps on my arms.
"Uh, yeah, slight problem with that," Tony spoke up before we were out of earshot. My father stopped, waiting. "You see," Tony continued, "we have a hulk."
"Yes, I'm aware of Dr. Banner's unfortunate condition, but even he can't stop-" He was cut off by an ear splitting roar that came from behind us, making me flinch. Bruce must have gotten away, sneaked out through some side door. The knife on my neck stung. My father turned his head slightly to the side and cursed under his breath. For once he seemed caught off guard, something I had never before seen in all my years. But he wasn't completely helpless; I could tell he was still thinking. He was going to gain something out of this meeting no matter what, just like with every situation, though I didn't know what he could possibly gain at this point. The trudging footsteps of the Hulk shook the ground as he got closer and closer, my father still contemplating what to do. He spun me around and held me firmly by one shoulder, giving me a strange look that I had never seen from him before. "I'll be back one day, Annabelle. When you're ready. When you realize your purpose," he spat out in German, moving the knife from my neck and plunging it deep into my chest. I felt the sting for only a moment before I lost all feeling. My eyes widened and my mouth gaped open, though no sound escaped my lips. "This is bigger than the both of us. You'll see. Do not disappoint," he continued, releasing the handle of the knife and letting me drop. I collapsed to my knees, my corneas burning, my heart throbbing. The tips of my fingers tingled. I could hear the sound of footsteps as my father fled the scene, clearly hoping to get away before Hulk got to him. I tried to open my mouth to say something, anything at all, but I couldn't form words. I stayed frozen, my eyes still burning and my body throbbing. I was only slightly aware of the shadowy figures that gathered around me, panic dancing around the normal energetic lights that had been dancing around them.
"Annabelle? Annabelle!" I couldn't make out who was talking in the blend of voices, and my vision slowly started to fizz out and disintegrate. I could still see the strange glow of light, one belonging to each of them as they crowded me, even when my physical eyesight failed. It was strange...the lights weren't vision at all. They were there even as the rest of my sight went black, and I could feel their panic as clear as if it was my own. These energies, these...auras...they were so much brighter as everything else was failing. I managed a pained smile and tried to say 'I'm okay,' but couldn't keep myself up any longer, falling back onto the pavement leading up to the steps of Stark Tower. The earsplitting roar from The Hulk was the last sound that rung through my ears until I lost consciousness. And then...nothing.
