The pre-dawn light was dim, and I wore bulky clothes that barely fit over my frame. The horns were harder to hide, unfortunately, but it turned out Asian grannies simply didn't give a fuck.

So I did my tai chi in peace, flowing smoothly from one pose to another, occasionally glancing at the whip-thin woman with big sunglasses and a frizzy perm leading the group in the park—a small postage stamp of grass and trees nestled in between strip malls and low-rent office complexes. I ignored the stares, as I always did, but after a few minutes I noticed I had a cordon of tiny old women shielding me from passersby. As best as they could, given I was at least a foot taller than the tallest among them. Quiet, wordless consideration. Touching, really.

It felt strange, to have exercise feel this good. Stretching my muscles, pebbly skin taut as I flexed and shifted. It made my body wake up in a way that caffeine had stopped helping ages ago. The smooth motions were different than my usual explosive power, as well. Meditative, almost. A slow coiling and uncoiling of springs, rather than the snaps and cracks of tearing steel. I doubted it made me any stronger, but maybe it helped in its own way. Control rather than power, perhaps? I was reaching the point where the world was starting to feel like it was made of cardboard. Too many broken door handles.

I endeavored to return next Sunday morning, if I could remember. There was little conversation, each person splitting off in twos and threes to destinations unknown, but one or two of the oldest—and quite likely blindest—tried to set me up with their daughters in broken English. A strapping young man such as myself was a prize, apparently. And so tall! Six feet if I was an inch. And polite, as well. At least my tablet's voice was, anyway.

A different sort of matchmaker was waiting for me as I left the park. Red from head to toe, curly brown hair above the opaque visor, easy grin beneath. Vaguely familiar, or perhaps it was just the impression he should be. I had that feeling a lot. And the strange sense there should have been another hero alongside him.

"Not interested in a sales hitch," I rumbled, and his smile didn't waver.

"Between you and me," he said, early morning sunlight glinting off of his flawless white teeth. "I'm not interested in giving one. But, anyone asks, I gave it my best shot."

I chuffed, moved past him. Was only partly surprised to hear him follow, whistling softly, tunelessly. I paused, and he stopped as well, a few paces behind me. I turned, and his smile hadn't dimmed.

"What."

He shrugged. "Turns out if we let you roam unattended, some people get the wrong idea. Panic a little. You have the pleasure of my company, at least until the good citizens of the city"—read: idiots—"see you aren't a threat."

I chuffed out a sigh this time. "Fine."

At least he drew some of the stares away from me. Once the sun was up, people were a lot more brazen about it, openly stopping and gawking at us as we passed, and this way some of them were distracted by the costumed superhero, and asking him for autographs rather than running screaming from me. Or shooting me. Those got boring after a while. Cowards with their weak constitutions and weaker munitions...

He followed me, and I followed my nose. Beef, sizzling, soaked in its own fat, hot on a griddle, pouring out of a beach-front restaurant like a pot of gold at the end of a rainbow. It was busy, despite the early time of day. Mostly young families, a distinct preponderance of harried-looking mothers and their squealing crotch spawn. Nothing that would get between me and a meal. I wondered if I could rely on the hero's presence for a free brunch. He seemed like the sort who would be up for it.

There was a particularly closeby screech, and something tapping insistently against my leg. I looked down.

The child looked up at me, eyes wide, snot running down one nostril, breathing heavily from his mighty battle cry. A neon foam sword was clutched desperately in one hand, and as I watched, he bapped me again with it. Cotton candy kisses.

I stared at him for a moment, then slowly collapsed to my side, away from him, groaning pitifully. The big hero watched the little one with amusement. I reached up a hand towards my companion, claws grasping at air. He leaned forward, grinning at my terrible fate, even as my head lolled and my tongue fell out of my mouth, tasting dirt.

"Alas, my old friend," my tablet chirped out in its polite, drama-less monotone. "I am vanquished."

The red-suited man, grinning inappropriately through his despair, crouched on one knee to my side. Clutching one hand to his chest, he declared, projecting his voice dramatically, "I will tell all who ask the tale of the brave knight who bested you, the mighty beast, at the peak of your power."

I coughed, a low rumble that sent the child flinching back a step. Reaching back up to the man, I implored him. "Please, do not forget my parting words. My dear companion… tell your wife… I love her."

He laughed, likely to cover the heartbreak of my death, then mimed wiping a tear from his cheek.

The child looked bewildered. Right.

In my own voice, I gave the abridged version. "Oh noes. I ded."

He squealed in delight and bapped me a few more times for good measure, climbing on top of my corpse in triumph. Until his mother emerged from the restaurant bathroom and promptly lost her shit.

"The kid has a career in the PRT someday," the hero said, stealing a fry off of my plate.

My tongue whipped out and did the same to his plate in retaliation. It didn't matter, really. He'd paid for both meals, like a sucker. He only smiled again. He did that a lot.

"You're good with the little gremlins," he said, his expression softening a little beneath his visor.

I chuffed in response, taking another bite of the truly ridiculous burger. It was so big I couldn't even fit the whole patty in my mouth without folding it up. Had to get his money's worth, after all. "Don't spread it around. I am a monster. I have a reputation to maintain." One nice thing about the tablet—I could talk with my mouth and one hand full.

"The girlfriend and I have talked about kids. She's doubtful, but I think I can swing her around to my point of view." He took a bite of his own, much more modestly-sized burger, and continued with his mouth full, albeit with none of my advantages. "You ever think of having any of your own?" he asked, wrapping the words around his food with some difficulty. Gross.

I looked at him. Looked down at me. Back at him, one eyebrow raised.

He swallowed, then grinned back. "You never know; there's no accounting for taste. And adopting is always an option. Grab a few Wards, maybe. You're probably a better role model than I am."

"Better table manners, for certain," my tablet chided him at my command.

We ate in silence for a bit. He signed two autographs, both to fit young mothers. Typical.

"I wouldn't want to bring children into this world anyway," I said, barely even realizing I'd typed the words out. He seemed as surprised as I was, head tilting at me, considering. "Too dangerous," I clarified needlessly. He probably knew better than most how quickly things were going to shit.

"I don't know," he said, offering me what he probably hoped was another winning smile. "Got to have some hope things will turn out alright."

I shook my head, swallowing the last of my burger. I had lost my appetite.

Must be nice to be so naive.