Burn

Chapter nine: Rebarbative

The mat resounded with the sound of a body being harshly thrown to the ground. She never knew how hard she could catapult someone until she had successfully thrown Sam over her shoulder.

"Damn girl," he whined. He had sweat glistening on his forehead, sliding down his temples. His face was contorted in many different variations of pain as he begrudgingly climbed back onto his feet, breathless and tired.

Addie herself was not on her best appearance. Her curly dark hair was sloppily hanging in a ponytail on the right side of her head and she had flyaway hairs stuck to her cheeks and forehead. Sweat had managed to get in every single fold and crevice of her body, and her t-shirt was sticking to her body like glue.

"Again," she ordered, her voice wavering somewhere between breathlessness and determination. She locked eyes with Sam, her hands in fists in front of her face, standing slightly turned and shoulder width apart.

"We've been at this for hours now," Sam breathed. "Let's take a break."

"You're a pussy, come on!" she exclaimed, stepping in for a punch. She got him in the ribs, her knuckles ringing against bone. He winced but tapped her hand away, obviously tired. There was no trace of humor on her face, no glint of wit in her hazel eyes. Her jaw was clenched, teeth gritting against each other. "Hit me," she growled.

Sam shook his head, taking small steps back, his breath wheezing out of his lungs. "Let's just take a water break, birdie," he suggested, his voice low and tentative.

Addie looked around in feigned astonishment. The gym was remotely empty for a Saturday morning; not one of the other Avengers was training either on the mats, the treadmills, or the punching bags. It was a little passed ten in the morning, which was a rare time for the gym to be empty.

"I'm going to kick your ass, Wilson," she growled, her jaw twitching with anger. She charged for him, but instead of throwing a punch back or counterattacking, he simply stepped out of the way.

Sam shrugged apathetically. Addie had thrown herself into training like a mad dog ever since the epic failure at the industrial plant two weeks ago. She had transformed into something terrible, obsessed with perfection and achievement. There was never a day where she didn't spend five to six hours in the gym, training in various dangerous techniques and pushing her body to the limit. She took on anyone who was willing to accept a challenge. She was, however, not humorous in the way she trained, often purposefully hurting her partner and being outright rude; inciting a fight. Wanda and Scott had been the firsts to give up on Addie's savage and outrageous obsession with training. Clint had offered to coach her in computers, which he assured was a way for the girl to relax and let off steam some other way. Steve and Sam, however, were powerless in refusing to fight with her.

"You need to relax," Sam said, brows crawling up his sweaty forehead.

"You need to shut the hell up and fight with me," the brunette growled back, her teeth bared like a wolf.

Sam shook his head, hands on his hips. She had been driving him crazy, acting as if there was nothing of more importance than fighting. She talked of nothing but that, insisted they do nothing but quarrel. She was utterly obsessed with training. Even in the early hours of morning, Sam would find her in the gym on a treadmill, at the punching bags, or outside with Bucky shooting guns.

"Take it easy, Addison," Sam whispered.

"I'm not going to take it easy, Sam!" she barked, her easy glistening with acrimony. "I need to get better!"

Sam rolled his eyes with a low growl rising in his chest. "You are getting better!" he answered. "Stop throwing yourself into training and putting everyone around you at arms length."