Temperance (Steve Rogers AU) 18+

4

SMACK!

Ow.

"The idea is to fight back twiglet! Not get your ass handed to you on the first try!" Wilson yells as Sanders (who I knew I'd be against for combat training in some cruel twist of fate) body slams me down on the mat.

My back aches, everything aches - my legs are all but jelly since the jog this morning. At one point I thought I was going to pass out on the steps up to the second level. Sure I could've taken the elevator but in my state I was hardly thinking straight. Especially after the incident in the rec room. 

That's gonna bruise, but Sanders just smirks in triumph. "And this is me going easy on you twiggy".

Fuck my life.

Around the mats, Captain Rogers is walking with his pad, making notes as he studies each of us, his eyes glance up every so often and then cast themselves back down to the screen.

I get up and dodge Sanders as he lunges for me, going to punch him, but instead he grabs my fist and almost crushed it. "Ouch! Motherfucker!" I cry out as I grasp it, my outburst causing the others to turn and see what is happening. 

He circles me, looking smug. "Give up twiggy?"

I catch Captain Rogers watching before he puts something down onto the pad. I glare at Sanders before running at him - however he simply throws me across the mat. I keep on getting back up and attacking before he finally pins me down. "Fine!" I yell and push him off, getting to my feet and brushing myself off. "There, I give up". 

Everyone is watching, most of them are either laughing silently to themselves or muttering to their combat partners about just how pathetic I am. Now I meet Captain Rogers eyes and look away, not wanting him to see just how weak I really am. Instead I sigh to myself and shuffle off to get my bottle of water that is to the side. 

"Ryder, you're up next with Sanders". I hear him say and take a well earned gulp of water. My fist is still throbbing from where it was almost crushed earlier, and I flex my fingers to see whether there's any damage. Thankfully not, it'll probably be a little stiff for a couple of days though. "Kennedy". I turn round to see him there. "On the bench - you're done for now". Jerking his head in the direction of the bench by the wall. 

I shake my head in protest. "But I still have a couple of others to..."

"That's an order". He snaps as he stares hard at me. It's so easily to get lost in his eyes and ultimately his face. "Bench. Now".

I hang my head and mumble, "yes sir".

"Captain". He corrects me and then puts something else down on what's probably my file. Most likely it says something like 'failure to follow orders'. "You always address me as Captain. Remember that - agent". Clearly expressing the absolute difference in our ranks - reminding me that I am the lowest compared to him and I should know it.

The idea I had of him in my head before is a far cry to who he actually is so it seems. Then again no one is perfect. Even Captain America has his flaws, and being a dick is probably one of them. He's always got the image of being a righteous man, someone to boost morale and all that crap - but the man who has been assessing me for the last 24 hours seems to be determined that I will fail. And I don't blame him, because I know I will.
I'm not like Sanders, boasting that I'm the strongest or trying to take out the competition, but I'm still prepared to try and have some sort of chance, no matter how much they will laugh and whisper about it. It's just very hard to have a positive mindset when even I know I shouldn't be here. 

"Yes, Captain". I say and go to sit on the bench for the rest of the session, eyes cast into my lap. Once it ends I stay sitting there until the shadow of the Captain's figure looms over me.

"Session's over, go take lunch". He grunts. It's very clear now that he hates me. All because I'm not up to his standards or anyone else's. Usually I try not to care about that, I never really did when it came to getting through the academy. But this? This is different. This is the ultimate test, not just about strength, but about mentality too. If I can get so far then I'll be happy - but if I don't last more than a few days? Sure I'll be happy to get out of here, but it would also make me question whether I can even cut it as an agent. 

I need whatever positivity drugs Phil is on, because he doesn't seem to have a negative bone in this body. 

I get to my feet, taking my water bottle with me, and walk out without saying a word. This morning has made me lose my appetite altogether instead of working it up. I swear I can feel his glare burning into my back - and it lingers there for the rest of the day.