~Broken Family~

Ballet

"Don't you want a better car?" Tony asked, wrinkling his nose. "One that's safer, newer... cleaner?"

"No." Harley shook his head adamantly. "I told you, I want an old truck like my ma had."

It'd been exactly one month since Gwen had been allowed to leave the compound, and it was now mid-July. School was due to start in only two weeks---it felt like summer had just started. It'd all seemed to have been wasted in their compound-ridden quarantine.

He'd been able to visit Gwen almost every day she'd had dance and play with the kids, which this year she had to help out Monday, Wednesday, and Friday. Her own lessons were on the weekend. Tony was a bit anxious that she was out in the open so much, but a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent posing as her aunt chaperoned her to each class. Along with two others.

Harley was glad he could drive on his own now. He had passed his license test only a few days ago, but Tony had wanted to get him a car already.

"So..." Tony looked the 1999 Silverado. It had either been brown and faded to a dusty color, or it was white and actually covered in dust. Either way, it looked like his dream car ever since he was little. "This is the one?"

"Yup."

"You know this is coming out of your allowance."

"Sure, Tony. I'll work it off when I get a job."

"Don't go getting too many jobs, Mr. License."

After Tony and the car salesman had a brief argument about the price of the old thing (he had jacked up the price after realizing he was selling to Tony Stark), he and Harley were sitting on the fuzzy gray seats. It smelled like cats, cigarettes, and old ladies.

"You ready, Motorcycle?" Tony handed him the key with a serious look. "You'd better not hit a tree and knock out a treehouse again."

"That was one time, Tony," Harley groaned, snatching up the keys and fitting them into the ignition. The engine started with a sound that got Harley's blood pumping. He put his right foot on the brake, thankful it was his left that was the busted one.

He adjusted the mirrors, and they were off.

***

Harley parked his truck in one of the handicap spaces by the door. He switched off the radio, which had been playing a good Alan Jackson song, and grabbed his crutch. Hopping out of the car, he made sure to lock it twice before heading up to the door. Thankfully they didn't have any front steps.

"Be good to her," Tony called from the vehicle, sticking his head out the window as far as he could.

"Don't make me put the child safety locks on!" Harley yelled back.

As soon as the door closed behind him, the sounds of the highway were swallowed up by soft piano music. The studio smelled of chalk, socks, and floor wax. It was a nice smell, actually.

It was still an hour until her kids' class started, which meant it would be only her and a few other instructors in the studio.

There were several studios, all with doors leading to the carpeted waiting area. There were a lot of seats in the room, a TV, and windows looking out onto every studio. The only occupied one had a B pasted on the door, along with some pictures of random sea creatures and characters from Finding Nemo.

Gwen was inside, and boy, did Harley's breath catch when he glimpsed her.

Her white-blonde hair was spilling from its loose bun, her eyes sharp with concentration. Her teal ballet shoes swept across the floor as she danced, wearing yoga pants and an oversize sweatshirt. She looked awesome.