I Thought You Were Different: Part 5

Reflexes

Somehow, without reason, after that night that filled your mind with terrible images, the weeks had passed by and there was just...nothing. The kids had gone back to their daily routines without any more black-outs, and your epic nightmare was the only one. Whatever it was that was terrorizing the four of you, it was gone as quickly as it had come. One thing that wasn't gone, however, was the fear that Tony still carried with him, that he wasn't doing all that he could. He needed to do more.

Tony had gone through a similar nightmare not all that long ago; when Wanda showed him his greatest fear. From the little bits of detail you had offered and that Steve was able to give him, your own nightmare was eerily similar, and there was no way that he was about to take that as coincidence; he wasn't going to find solace in that lie, and he wouldn't allow himself complacency in his mission. You cursed him silently for his determination, as his feelings weren't merely his own; the kids had heard him speak of it too many times and had absorbed his fear, leaving you now in the awkward position of waiting for your son to attack.

"Alright, Ant, don't hold back."

"You sure?"

"Sweetie, I think I can hold my own," you smiled gently, but you quickly remembered what you were doing and washed the expression away, looking at him with a coldness that made him shudder. "Go."

Anthony took a tight breath and steadied his balance, pushing himself forward to attack with the latest move that his father had taught him. He had only tried it a few times and was in no way proficient, but he wanted to impress you on his first attack. He motioned to strike high, turning just slightly and bringing his hands up as if to get a hold around your neck from behind, but when you blocked, he ducked low. His leg swung beneath him as he lowered himself close to the ground, aiming to take out your knee with one hit, but you had seen this move far too many times and compensated. You leapt up just enough so that his leg swung and missed, allowing you to reach down and grab it as your feet returned to the floor, twisting it firmly and flipping your boy on his back with a hard hit.

"Crap."

"Hey, that was your first try, you did good. I've just worked next to that move for years, so don't be too hard on yourself." You offered him a hand to help him stand, but he declined it with a small wave. "I have a few tips for you-" you stopped abruptly, the sound of your daughter yelping in pain catching your attention.

"Again," Steve answered her whimper flatly, taking his stance to accept her attack.

Grant had been working on the far side of the gym with Johnny, following their new plan to stay indoors and more contained to avoid any further forest fires. Brooklyn's cry got his attention just as readily, and it wasn't sitting well with him; he didn't bother excusing himself from his training, hurrying over to the group with a look at Steve that should have set the guy on fire. "What was that?"

"She has to learn just like you boys do," Steve replied matter-of-fact. "Do you think that if someone is attacking her, that they'll go easy because she's a girl? Ask your mother if that's true. Ask Nat or Wanda."

"Mom!" Anthony joined in, pointing at his dad and sister. "Are you okay with this?"

"He's right." Your answer clearly broke their faith in you, their expressions dropping as they had expected you to be the reasonable one. "Brooke, what did you wrong?"

"I left my flank open," she panted, holding her side. As you looked just beneath where her hand was resting, you could see through her white workout shirt where a dark bruise was already forming. You knew that Steve was being as gentle as he could with them, because he would never willingly hurt his own children, but the marking on her side was unnervingly the same size as his closed fist.