Can't Keep Suffering

Rien and CJ were sitting at the small table together, eating breakfast in the usual silence. The two of them had been together for a few years now, but neither of them really took a step towards getting to know the other.

“Where did you learn all this stuff?”

CJ looked up at Rien who was staring intently at her fruit.

“I don’t know what you mean.”

Rien finally looked up at CJ. “You know what I mean,” she insisted. “I mean, like, where did you learn all the stuff you’re teaching me?”

CJ scoffed darkly and continued eating her food. “It’s just how I was raised.”

“Hm,” Rien mused. “You’re parents must’ve been really interesting folks, huh?”

“My parents are dead,” she replied bluntly. “I was adopted a long time ago.”

Rien leaned forward, wanting to know more. “By whom? Were they the ones to teach you all this stuff?”

CJ nodded. “Norman Osborn. He took in all of us and trained us.”

“‘All of us?’ What, like there was more than just you?”

“Don’t be stupid, of course there was more than just me,” CJ said, a look of scorn on her face. “There were twelve of us at one point. Masha, Kramer, Laney, Hannah, Evan, Joshua, Ben, Kevin, Crowley, Betty,” CJ paused and glanced back down at her plate. “And Kanen.”

Rien stared wide-eyed at CJ, noticing the pause on the last name. “Sounds like an interesting life.”

“Oh it was,” she added, nodding. “We were taught how to kill and how to take initiative. I mean, I did my first mission at fourteen years old. And let me tell you, it wasn’t pretty.”

“What do you mean ‘not pretty?’ Did you have to torture people?”

“Well, yeah,” CJ replied nonchalantly, shrugging her shoulders. “But that wasn’t the un-pretty part. I fucked up. I let someone go that I shouldn’t’ve.”

“You mean someone escaped?”

CJ nodded. “Yeah, and I got nothing but hell from it until I secluded myself out here.”

“That’s another thing,” Rien quickly interjected. “Why Thailand? Why not somewhere more glamorous like Paris, or something.”

CJ gave Rien a look of pure irritation. “Don’t be stupid, Rien,” she said simply, shaking her head and returning to her breakfast.

Rien took that as a cue to shut up and continued on her own breakfast.

****

Hetalia was awake at seven the next morning, polishing her boots and preparing for another day of training.

The quiet sound of footfalls put the Russian at high alert. She continued to polish her boots, in case it was one of the other members of the house, but moved her knife closer to her reach if the visitor wasn’t friendly.

Pamplemousse walked into the kitchen, arms crossed against her chest and brown hair in a tangled mess.

“Oh,” Hetalia said as she looked up at the thirteen year old. “It’s just you. Why are you awake so early?”

“Look,” Pamplemousse said as she sat across from her friend. “I was hoping you and the others could start training me.”

Hetalia cocked her head to the side in confusion. “Train you? Why?”

“What CJ did to me as a little kid…” Pamplemousse shook her head. “If she ever comes back, I wanna be ready. I don’t want to be caught defenseless again.”

Hetalia gave a single nod. “If that’s what you want.”

The Russian walked down the stairs, followed by Pamplemousse, in silence. After they had descended two flights, both of them could hear the faint sounds of pounding bass and the thudding of Clint’s arrows against the targets. As they got closer, the songs were clear as day and the sounds of Clint’s shouts along with Steve’s words of encouragement bled through.

“Straighten up a bit, Clint,” Steve suggested, standing outside the white painted ring on the floor, arms crossed as he observed Clint’s form.

The archer pulled back the string, aimed for a second, before launching the arrow into the bullseye across the room.

“Excellent job,” Steve said happily, finally entering the ring and clapping a hand on the young man’s back.

“Thanks, Cap.”

“Good morning, gentlemen,” Hetalia said smoothly as she wrapped her hands in preparation for sparring. “I have a new recruit with me.”

Clint and Steve spun around and locked eyes with Pamplemousse. “Hey, sweetie,” Steve said first. “What’re you doing down here?”

“She wants to train with us,” Hetalia answered, placing an arm around the 13-year-old. “And I think she’s right to want to.”

Clint scoffed a little and shook his head. “And you think it’s okay to come to your first training session in your jammie-jams?”

Pamplemousse looked down and realized that she was still in her teal pj pants and tank top, hair a tangled mess in her eyes.

She looked back at Clint and felt her face turn red. “Oops.”

Clint and Steve laughed.

“That’s okay,” Steve said, catching his breath. “Hetalia probably has some gear you can borrow until we can get you some for yourself.”

****

Bruce woke up later than usual, but considering that nobody had come around to bug him, the scientist figured that they thought he deserved the extra sleep despite the fact that today was a training day.

Bruce looked at his alarm clock, which read 10:17. He pulled himself out of bed and into some clothes. He groggily walked through the kitchen, snagging a cup of coffee, then proceeding down to the training area.

Tony was in the boxing ring with Hetalia, sparring so intensely that they were both pouring sweat and pushing out ragged breath after ragged breath. Loki was shooting harmless spells at Steve, who was deflecting them with his shield. Clint and Thor were both over by the pull-up bars, spotting Pamplemousse as she struggled to pull herself up. The teen was drenched in sweat and she had a few bruises.

“Pamplemousse?” Bruce called across the room. “What are you doing?”

She lost her grip and her sweaty hands slipped from the bar. Lucking, Thor grabbed her before she could hit her head on the wall or the floor.

Everyone else seemed to stop in unison at the sound of Bruce’s voice.

“She wanted to be trained,” Clint spoke up, leaning over a set of bench weights. “We told her she could.”

“Why?” Bruce demanded, storming up to Clint and pointing an accusing finger in his face. “Who gave you the right to tell my daughter what she can and cannot do?”

“Dad,” Pamplemousse quickly interjected. “It was my idea. I just-”

“Stay out of this, young lady,” Bruce snapped. He quickly spun around back to Clint. “You have no authority with her! You’re not her father!”

“Bruce, calm down,” Tony added, leaning against the ropes of the boxing ring. “We thought you’d be okay with it. Besides, this whole time you’ve given us the idea that it takes a village to raise a child, so we decided as a group what would be the best idea.”

Bruce sighed and turned to Pamplemousse. “I would really prefer it if you didn’t train with us,” he finally admitted.

The teen’s jaw dropped. “Are you serious?”

Bruce only nodded. “There’s no reason for you to be putting yourself through all this.”

“Bullshit!” she snapped. “Dad, I-”

“That’s enough out of you, young lady! Go to your room!”

With a sigh and a roll of her eyes, Pamplemousse stormed up the stairs to her room.