Whatever his own feelings on the subject of taking back power, Hayley is right that he wouldn’t want her engaging in it. He doesn’t want to see the violence perpetuated in her like it has been in him. He knows of no truer way to phrase that in the privacy of his own thoughts.

The demure act doesn’t fool him in the least, not after that glimpse he’d gotten. His lips tighten, Bruce recognizing far too much of himself in her already. The hiding, the pretending, the attempt to reason away her intended actions. It’s all too familiar, and it scares him faintly, to think that she might be falling into the path his own life had taken. He wouldn’t wish that on anyone.

“That’s a logical fallacy,” he says curtly, giving up on gentility. “If it was about making sure it didn’t happen again, you wouldn’t care what he thought or knew. You can’t change someone like that. Tony and I could come up with something once we have more information, something that would—restrain or monitor him, something. Just don’t tell me you’re not angry.” His gaze sharpens, knowing. “You are. You should be. I know what it looks like.”