Chapter 6
The next day, Warren decided to kill two birds with one stone, namely going to school with Ann, which could possibly lead to her revealing more about this great secret of hers and… no, that was it.
As soon, as he knocked, the door flew open, revealing a disgruntled looking Ann. Her hair was loose for the first time he could remember, and it fell straight down to her waist, she was wearing neon pink pajama bottoms, and a baby pink tank top. Seeing who it was, she glared at him.
"Yes?" She asked between clenched teeth, and Warren had to struggle to not take a step back from the obviously annoyed girl.
"I thought…"
"I'm not going."
Warren's eyebrows shot up.
"Excuse me?"
"I'm not going to school today."
"Are you sick?" He asked, trying his best to sound at least mildly concerned, instead of very.
"You might say that." She snarled quietly. "What you would call a life-long affliction."
"Oh." He thought for a moment. "Is there anything…"
"No, nothing at all. Oh wait, you can go away." She scowled. "In the meantime, I am going to get off of this freezing porch, go back into my nice, cozy house, curl up with a bottle of ibuprofen, a carton of Chocolate Fudge Brownie ice cream, the kind with the really big chunks in it, a few good tear-jerking chick-flicks, and permanently attach myself to a heating pad. Does that clarify things for you?"
Somehow, this particular setup sounded very familiar to Warren, until he realized what she was referring to.
"Hokay," He said. "Not exactly something I needed to know."
"Guys, such squeamish creatures when it all comes down to it." She smirked, and promptly slammed the door in his face.
…
By the evening Ann was hyped up on enough painkillers to consider going to Speed's, and the death glare that her mother gave her when she suggested calling him up and rescheduling sealed it. At three-thirty sharp she set out for Speed's house. It wasn't too far away, and the exercise did her good. By the time she got there, her mood had improved greatly.
His father opened the door, and Ann cringed mentally. She had met Ivan Brice once before, and had taken a disliking to him. Now, when she told him who she was, he looked her over as if assessing her worthiness. She imagined that the way she was feeling right now was similar to the way Warren had felt when he had first met her father, only her father had been looking out for her well-being, Speed's father seemed to be assessing her… assets.
"Speed is in his room. Follow me." He finally said.
As they walked through the hallways, Ann noticed that while their house was certainly a bit smaller then her own, it was no less expensively furnished. But she wasn't really surprised at that, Ivan was a super known for his divided loyalties, and for earning money in ways that were probably less then honest. When his son and only child had been born, he had named him Speed, expecting him to inherit his own abilities, and he had. He had also been born with his mother's keen ability with science.
"Here you are. Have fun." Ann disliked his tone, but decided to let it go, and instead knocked on the door.
"Yeah, come in." Said a familiar voice from inside. Ann opened the door to find Speed reclining on his couch reading a book about biology of all things. He looked up when she came in and grinned.
"Hello, grasshopper."
"Hello, Gromphadorhina portentosa." Speed raised his eyebrows.
"A Madagascar Hissing Cockroach? Are you sure you need my help?"
"Oh yeah. I just heard that once and haven't been able to forget it yet. My mind is a storehouse for useless information."
He laughed as he got up to clear some room for her things. As he worked, Ann observed him with a critical eye. Prison had done him good. After almost a year on prison food and almost constant workout, since there was nothing else to do, he had lost a good amount of weight, and had actually developed some real muscles. And as long as he behaved himself, Ann supposed that she would as well.
"Have a seat." He said, gesturing toward an easy chair, and she sat down, keeping an eye on him all the while.
"If it would make you feel better," Speed said sarcastically, "I could keep my hands on the table for the next few hours."
Ann gave soft burst of laughter, and smiled at him.
"Sorry. I don't mean to be such a ninny."
"That's fine." Speed replied, and waved a hand in dismissal. "I do remember the last time we met also y'know."
"Yeah." Ann agreed, lowering her face and blushing. "I'm afraid that I was… impressionable at the time."
"If you knew what Lash did to me after we left, you wouldn't feel so bad."
"Ah, did my Andy give you your just recompense?"
"You could say that." His smile changed as he said, "But I can't say that my opinion of you has changed much."
"I'll take that as a compliment." Ann replied, drawing herself up.
"Good. It was."
They looked at each other for a moment, and then Ann held out her hand.
"Truce?"
"Truce." Speed agreed. "For the time being."
"Hm." Was all Ann said in reply before she turned her attention to the work at hand.
"So, since you're so interested in insects, let's start with that… grasshopper." Ann's eyes twinkled at him.
"As you wish… cockroach."
…
"So what's it like?"
"I'm sorry?"
Speed's question had come out of the blue, and Ann looked at him in puzzlement.
"You know, living next door to your mortal enemy."
"Old Mr. Ford? What about him?"
Speed rolled his eyes.
"Not him, Peace."
Ann straightened up and gave him a look that would have made any man with any notion about how to deal with females run for the hills.
"Now what do you mean by that?"
"Come on, Ann." He continued, as he didn't have a notion. "Anyone who has lived her for more than ten years and was old enough to remember knows the story about your families."
"I don't see what makes this appropriate for small talk." She said icily, turning back to her notes.
"So? Come on."
"Just out of curiosity," Ann snapped, looking up at him sharply, "Just how did you know that we live next door?"
"Because," Speed replied, drawing out the last syllable, "Everyone with two brain cells and a superhero parent knows?"
"Oh really? And pray, why are you bringing this up now?"
"Because, the story of your parents is the biggest real-life soap opera for the past thirty years of superhero history, and now I have the chance to talk to two of the key players' daughter. So come on, spill. What's it like in the Cromwell family?"
Ann stood up very slowly; looking down at him like he was the parasite she had nicknamed him after.
"You want a story? How about this? We never speak about my mother, my father and I. We have no pictures of her in the entire house, and we generally pretend she never existed." Her anger suddenly disappeared. "Sometimes I think it would be easier if she never did. When I was in the school in England, I used to shut my eyes at night and pretend I didn't have a mother, or that Brook was my real mother."
Speed was silent. All in a rush he realized just how tactless he had been. Damn. He'd been trying to stop acting like his father. A great job he was doing.
"Did it make the pain go away?" He finally asked.
"Sometimes." She murmured, sitting back down. "But only for a moment, and then it would all come back to me. You want the truth? The truth is, my mother betrayed everyone who had ever loved her and who she had ever loved back, and for what? For power. For control. As soon as I was old enough, I swore that I wouldn't be like that. That I would completely ignore that aspect of myself if need be, so that I would never develop that burning need to control something that is uncontrollable. To reclaim lost innocence."
"And how is that working?"
"I haven't felt it yet, and I don't think I ever will now."
"Liar."
"Shut up, Wren."
"If you hate that part of your life so much, why are you hanging out with Peace?"
Ann smiled softly.
"Because I don't blame him, or anyone else, for something that they didn't have anything to do with. He himself has done nothing to hurt me, so why should I treat him any differently then anyone else?"
"Huh." Speed said thoughtfully.
"What?"
"I just never pegged you for the forgiving type." Ann grinned.
"I'm not, one of my many faults. But as I said, he hasn't done anything that I would have to forgive. It's his father that needs the forgiveness."
Speed thought about this for a moment.
"Alright, I guess I can accept that."
"Good." Replied Ann. She then looked at him seriously and said, "Oh, and Speed? If you ever want to have any sort of friendship with me, never mention my mother again. And you will never under any circumstances mention any of this to Warren. He doesn't know who I am, and I hope that he won't for a long time yet."
Speed only nodded in agreement.
…
"WA-WE! WA-WE! WA-WE!"
"I'm sorry Mom, but I'm afraid I'm going to have to kill your daughter if she doesn't stop saying that!"
Brook cringed in agreement and covered her ears.
"What is she talking about anyway? She's been saying that none-stop since that friend of yours came over." She asked.
Ann paused for a moment, and she felt an eye-twitch coming on.
"That's what she's saying! C'mon Ariel, into the snowsuit with you!"
She grabbed her little sister and stuffed her into her little purple snowsuit as quickly as she could, and marched outside with her.
…
Warren was watching MASH on DVD when the doorbell rang, his mother was off saving some third world country, so he was forced to pause right in the middle of one of Hawkeye's snide comments.
When he opened the door, he was surprised to see a scowling Ann on his front porch holding a wriggling and overly hyper Ariel in her arms. As soon as the baby caught sight of him, she began screaming even louder, and apparently trying to take a nosedive out of her sister's arms.
"WA-WE!" Ariel cried.
"This is your fault you know." Ann said testily.
Warren managed to grab the flailing child before she met with an unfortunate accident, and tried to disguise his pleasure at her remembering him so well.
"It's not my fault if she's smart." He said. "Aren't you? You'd rather be with me then some grumpy, hormonal little Tory, wouldn't you?"
"That was low." Ann reprimanded, shaking a finger at him. "And you see how well you fare when you have a little child screaming the same word, or should I say name, at the top of her lungs for days on end."
Surprisingly, Ariel had gone completely silent as soon as she was safely in Warren's arms, and was now very seriously looking over his red locks.
"So what am I supposed to do?" He asked.
"Anything! Play with her. Read her a story. Show her how to brood properly for Pete's sake! I don't care. Just pay attention to her for a little while."
Warren began to get the overwhelming feeling that Ann was already at the end of her rope, and that refusing would not be a good idea. He managed to hunt up some of his old baby toys, and settled Ariel with them, while he sat next to her on the couch and continued watching his show.
"MASH?" Asked Ann, and Warren grunted in reply.
"Oh! This is the one where Margaret's fiancé visits and…"
"Shh."
"Yes, sir."
For the next few hours, they watched together in silence while Ariel played happily. But the peace ended all too soon, as Ariel got hungry and became fussy, so Ann had to take her home.
…
The next few days passed uneventfully. Ann settled into a pattern of school, coming home, doing homework, doing other stuff, going to bed, getting up, going to school… Each day was very much like the last, until a certain day came up. But that day was never like the rest. On that day, Ann and her father were silent to each other, each carefully avoiding the other, and in general being more reserved than usual.
It was also a day that Warren had work at the Paper Lantern. Near the end of the day, when everything was quiet, and there were only half a dozen customers left, Warren noticed a lone figure sitting in the corner. Looking closer, he was taken aback when he saw who it was, and that the small person was crying. He walked closer cautiously.
"Ann?" He asked.
She looked up quickly, wiping a few stray tears away.
"Oh, hey Warren. I didn't know you worked here." Ann said, trying to evade his slightly concerned tone.
"Are you okay?" He pressed.
"Yes." She replied hastily, followed by a soft sob and a blubbered, "No!"
Warren shifted uncomfortably. At least with Layla, she hadn't been crying. He didn't like to admit it, but he hated seeing women who were usually strong and happy weeping.
"Is there anything I can do?" He asked.
"No… no, I don't think so."
He thought for a moment.
"Do you want to talk about it?"
Ann looked up at him again, her eyes wide.
"Won't I keep you away from your work?" He shrugged and sat down across from her.
"Not really. There isn't much left to do, and I get off soon anyway."
"Oh… well… it's just that… today is the anniversary of… of my mother's death."
Warren raised his eyebrows.
"She's dead? I didn't know. How long ago was it?"
"I was almost eight then so, eight years."
He frowned. Dang, now wasn't that a coincidence, but he decided that now would be a bad time to pressure her about her, or should he say, their past.
"How did she die?"
"I don't really want to talk about it."
He nodded softly.
"It's just…" Warren cocked his head.
"Just what?"
"I've never been able to talk about her to anyone, not even my father. She did… she did some very bad things. She hurt a lot of people. Whenever anyone even hints at mentioning her, my father immediately closes himself off, like a turtle. He goes and hided in his protective shell of silence."
"That must cause a lot of tension."
"Just on today. Tomorrow we'll go right back to the way we were yesterday, as if nothing happened. I just wish that…"
"That you could talk to him about her?" Warren finished for her, and Ann nodded.
"Yeah. I mean, most of my memories of her are pretty grim, and I just want to hear about what she was like before."
The clock on the wall chimed, and Warren looked up at it.
"Hey, look, my shift is over, so how about I take you home?"
Ann gazed at him suspiciously.
"Why?"
Warren gazed back at her insolently.
"Because you're not old enough to have a license, and I'm assuming you walked here."
"No, why are you being nice to me? Why now? I mean, I can understand everything you've done before. Either I've picked on you or Powers has, so you didn't really have a choice there, and Ariel… well… who could refuse an eight-month-old girl who's already in love with you. But why now?"
Warren didn't answer her, only stared back as if he knew that she already knew the answer.
"This is your comfort zone isn't it?" She asked, answering her own question. "This is where you feel most comfortable."
Warren shrugged.
"Whatever. Do you want a ride or not?"
"Not before you answer me. Why do you want to help me?"
He considered this, and finally sighed.
"Because I know how important it is to not be alone on a day like this."
Ann nodded, both understanding and accepting his response.
"I was right. You're not a stereotype."
"Does that mean you're coming?"
"Yeah, sure."
While Ann paid her bill, Warren went to get his jacket. When he came out to the front, Ann smiled at him.
"Hey, why did you let your hair down? I liked it pulled back."
Warren just gave her a look that screamed "Thin ice." And tossed her his extra helmet. When she studied it, Ann broke into a grin.
"Does this mean what I think it means?"
Instead of replying, he just pointed into the parking lot, where a 1995 Kawasaki Vulcan 1500 sat. It was such a dark red that it was almost black. Ann's eyes popped.
"Pretty." She drew out each syllable.
"Thanks." He said, half sarcastically, half proudly as he strutted over to it. "Have you ridden one of these before?"
"One of my friends at my old school at a motorcycle. She would sometimes take me with her when she went on the German Audubon during break."
Warren let out a bark of laughter.
"I'll take that as a yes. Hop on."
Ann skipped over happily, and climbed on behind him, wrapping her arms snuggly around his waist.
"I do have to breath, Ann."
"Sorry." She murmured.
As they raced home through the streets, Ann realized that he had called her by her first name for the first and second times ever that day. When he pulled into the driveway in front of her house and sat there idling, she paused for a moment, and then wrapped her arms around his shoulders in a brief hug.
"Thanks, Warren." She said. "This has meant a lot to me."
He only cleared his throat uncomfortably, and gave a gruff goodbye before riding the last few yards to his own house.
