IN THE BLINK OF AN EYE, Bronwen teleported to the shore. Her eyes tracked the blur of red and blue as it swung along the bridge and to the buildings beyond, aiming directly at the round spaceship.
Bronwen had little memory of the previous attack on New York, having been in some sort of 'witness protection' at the time. Hidden with the cronies of SHIELD. Bronwen was determined to get to Peter, no matter the consequences of her identity.
She teleported to the nearest building, bending over, gasping for breath.
"Fuck it's been a while."

Bronwen always refused the amount of suits that Tony Stark had made for her, saying it was best to lay low, to keep herself hidden from the media. But if Peter was putting himself in dangers way, then Bronwen would be there to protect him.
No matter the circumstance.
Back at the compound, Bronwen would practice her abilities every day until she could not keep her eyes open. In Queens, New York, she refused to acknowledge its presence. Thought it was better to lock it away and forget about her past. Begin anew.
But she had to admit that using her powers felt good.
After regaining her breath, Bronwen continuously teleported after Peter, running and leaping at parts were the gap was small enough between the buildings for her to jump. Her blood thrummed through her veins, and unlike the previous pains of her scar, it sung happily. The tune matched the beat of her heart, and she was well on her way. The physical exercise brought a smile to her face, and she didn't think twice when she shed her jacket, dropping it on the rooftop.

She paused when she was below the circular spaceship, eyes scanning her surroundings for the familiar red and blue suit before something caught her eye—
Bronwen teleported, and used her tendrils of purple along with Peter's web to push aside a projectile that flew straight toward the one and only, Tony Stark.
"Hey, man." Peter greeted whatever was across from them. To Bronwen, it was a mix of a lizard and a man, standing well over Bronwen's height. "What's up, Mr. Stark?"

Bronwen paused as she held on to the axe, "How can I hear you?"

"Earrings." Was all Tony replied before asking his next question, "Kid, where'd you come from?"

Bronwen's eyes went wide as she realised what Tony meant, her earrings! Of course he did that, made a comm link between the suits and herself. She hadn't taken them off since her birthday.
Peter's reply was fleeting as he was thrown toward a fountain, Bronwen only realising she was in a small-ish park, "Field trip to MoMA."

Bronwen brought her power on the— whatever it was. Peter was rapidly talking in their comm link, doing the best he can to aid Tony in bringing the thing down.
"What is this guy's problem, Mr. Stark?"

"He's from space. He came here to steal a necklace from a wizard."

It took everything in Bronwen to not freeze when Tony replied to Peter, images flooded her internal eye, and in a burst of emotion she flung the thing across the park into a tree.
She knew what was on the necklace. And, unfortunately, she knew who was after it.
Fuck.
Suddenly a red-ish cloak (Bronwen didn't know how else to explain it) flew through the park, a floating — Bronwen huffed in frustration— thing going right after it.
"Kid, that's the wizard. Get on it."

Peter nodded toward Tony, "On it!" And swung right after the new thing.

Conflicted, Bronwen made a split-second choice to chase after Peter. It took more effort for Peter to dodge what the thing was throwing at him then Bronwen, who could teleport out of the way.
"Okay." She muttered to herself, "Time to step it up a notch."

Bronwen took a deep breath, tucked her hair behind her ears, and teleported directly in front of the floating thing and built up a wall of purple energy. The thing crashed right into it, and the pause gave Peter a moment to catch up, swinging after the wizard.
"You." The thing snarled, lashing out at the purple wall.

It took a lot of Bronwen's energy to keep the wall in place. She had to make time, to give Peter an inch of a chance—
She buckled to her knees, hands glowing with power. The wall flickered.
"You'll not be harmed if you just give up, girl."

Through the tears of her strain, Bronwen looked up at the thing and glared at it. So it speaker.
She pushed herself to her feet, fists clenched beside her, "I don't give up." Bronwen let out a roar of frustration and pushed against the thing, the wall slowly inching it away from her. Her eyes began to glow purple, and her hair flung in every direction.

She was powerful, and the thing could see that. Much more powerful than his master had predicted when ordering for her to be injected with whatever made her her. Her potential was much more than they bargained for.
In her confusion, Bronwen had not heard the words that left Peter's mouth. Yet, she heard the beam of light that lifted the wizard and Peter off the ground.
The thing grinned at Bronwen before disappearing as she blinked. In her ears, she could faintly ear the fading conversation between Tony Stark and Peter Parker.
"Peter?"

"Bronwen—... I— ... don't— ..." the broken reply of Peter was all she heard, and the clarity of his last few words rang true, "I... I love you."

That was all Bronwen heard, the words ringing in her head, as the circular spaceship lifted out of Earth's atmosphere, and into space beyond.

∆ ∆ ∆

Bronwen paced herself as she walked the streets of New York, or wherever she was. There wasn't a point in knowing, as she was sure she'd just teleport back home. Her plan was to pick up a tub of ice cream on the way, and lock herself inside her room until dawn broke the next day.
She never wanted this to happen, it took all her effort to be by Peter's side. She knew this was coming, and had planned everything out.
Well, almost everything.
Bronwen didn't take in account that she would be occupied with that thing that tried to get at the wizard, she didn't take into account that she just wasn't strong enough.
She was tempted to rip out the earrings from her ears, they were both gone. Tony and Peter, all she had left was Gwen.
Thank God for Gwen.
"Bronwen!"

Bronwen tensed, that voice wasn't familiar. She pivoted, and sighed as she took in the scruffy form of the renowned scientist, Bruce Banner.
Also known as the Hulk, but that didn't matter.
"Oh thank God its you, I would've looked crazy shouting at any blonde in the street which... I did a couple of times." He trailed, slightly hunched.

Bronwen wondered whether this was a defensive stance.

"But I guess you can't miss your glowing form, haha..." he fiddled with the ends of his sleeves, a size or so too big, "Anyway. Tony told me—" Bruce pointed to himself, "— to tell you that he's fine. He'll always be fine. And if anything goes wrong on Earth, call this number." He held out an old flip-phone.

She tilted her head, "What is it?"

"Steve Rogers phone number."

Bronwen almost choked, "Do you think that it's time to call him?"

"Yeah."

∆ ∆ ∆

Peter leant against the cold metal, hardly feeling the temperature through the internal heating of his new suit. The contents of his gut rolled as the space ship continued to elevate. Was this a mistake? He left Bronwen behind in a blink of an eye, and in his mind, he knew he'd feel more confident with her there.
But she didn't have the time. She stalled that thing for him. And now he was stuck on a spaceship going to who knows where.
This was definitely a mistake.
Taking in a deep breath of the fabricated oxygen, Peter pushed through the flap into the inner corridors of the donut-shaped spaceship.

∆ ∆ ∆

She ran down the corridors, checking over her shoulder multiple times.
He'd changed. Oh God, he changed so much. They forced him into this.
Blonde locks were tugged, and she was jerked violently back. A cry of pain. A sneer of a face.
Oh God.
She didn't know any prayers — was not religious, didn't know any of any religion in the first place — but she begged to God that he wouldn't hurt her. That he was leave her alone.
He was her friend, wasn't he?
"Please!"

She was dragged back down the hall she'd ran down, her feet skidding across the floor. Her attempt was futile. He did not care of her anymore.
He was her friend.
It was not the first time this scene had happened. She'd seen many children, older than her, of course, dragged down the hallway kicking and screaming. They always turned a blind eye to those moments, children and workers alike. No one cared what happened to them once they entered those two doors.
Those two doors everyone skirted around. Especially the children. There'd be twenty-three children before her to disappear through those doors, and there were constant screams echoing down the halls of the compound.
They didn't care whether the screams would inflict nightmares on the children, and at age four, she didn't know any better. The nightmares only lasted weeks before she became accustomed to those sounds.
They were as natural as breathing to her.
Except she did not except for her turn to come so soon. She wasn't anything like the other children, wasn't smart, wasn't funny, wasn't a leader. She blended in the background with the fifty other non-special children.
They weren't supposed to care about her.
Her fingers scratched at the metal arm gripping her hair, stumbling after him.
He was her friend. He was her friend. He was her friend. He was her friend. He was her friend. He was her—

No one bothered to remember her screams as they dragged her through the doors, and to the room beyond.

This is all I have to say:

(Not really but we all knew this was coming, right?... right?!?!)
Anyway, I feel like crap. How about you?
- J