Functional

10. We're Unprepared, We Are Deficient

“From time to time,” she answers his question after considering it.  Does she feel safe in Avenger’s Tower?  More so than she has anywhere else.  But she doesn’t think she will ever feel completely at ease; that was trained out of her at a very young age.

“I hope,” he begins, staring intently at his hands, then pauses.  She waits patiently for him to finish the question, taking care not to startle him by moving suddenly.  “I hope you aren’t … feeling unsafe … because of me,” he says slowly, very quietly.

“No, James,” she assures him, hiding how the statement makes her heart ache.  “I know you’d never hurt me on purpose,” she says sincerely.  He glances at her, almost shyly, and she bites her tongue.  “Now, I think this conversation has gotten far too maudlin, so how would you like to come downstairs and do some training with me?”

The vulnerability in his face disappears immediately, and he cocks his head, clearly assessing her.  “I’ll be fine up here,” he answers.

She gets to her feet and holds out her hand to help him up.  “That may be true, but I find that exercise really helps in keeping nightmares at bay.” 

He frowns a little, but places his right hand in hers and allows himself to be pulled to his feet.  She leads the way down the hallway to the elevator, which is hasn’t moved since she arrived on the floor.  As they descend, he stands in the center of the little room and seems tense.  She supposes he would be on edge in scenarios that remind him of falling.  Steve has told her that he remembers the train mission that supposedly killed him in action.  When she asked, Steve was unable to tell her how much his friend remembered of the past, but knew it was largely upsetting memories.  To calm James down, he tells him stories about when they were kids together, or about fun times back at base after a mission with the Howling Commandos.  Steve was unsure if James has any flashbacks of those kinds of things.  Of anything pleasant.

The elevator pings as they reach their floor, and the doors slide open.  She walks out into the training floor.  To the left, there is a shooting range, enclosed to keep the sound from disturbing everyone else.  Ahead, there is ample space on mats for physical training, with some weights and machines at the far end in front of a wall of mirrors.  To the right, an interactive obstacle course.  She had been practicing there when JARVIS had alerted her to James’ distress.

“What would you like to start with?” she asks, looking in his direction.

He is silently surveying the room, and she supposes he hasn’t been here before.  “Target practice,” he suggests, a hint of uncertainty in his voice.

“Good plan,” she tells him, and leads the way.  The door is encoded, but she knows the code.  Inside, there is a small armory, which is also locked up tight.  She knows how to get into this, too.  “Any preferences?”  She motions to the array of weapons choices inside the metal locker.

He raises an eyebrow at her in carefully conveyed surprise.  “I don’t know,” he says after a moment.

“Well, take your time.  I’m sure you’ve trained on most of them.”  He doesn’t reply to this suggestion, just stares at the cache of weapons silently.  After a moment, she grabs her favorite pistol and walks out to the range as she loads it.  Without waiting to see if he will be joining her, she takes her stance and fires expertly at the targets, which move to evade her shots.

“Very nice,” his voice behind her comes as a slight surprise.

She finishes her clip before turning to look at him, smiling a little.  “Thanks.”  She doesn’t think about how pleased she is with his approval.