Fire & Ice | Soulmate AU 1 |

chapter three

I meet with Max at the team's tower in the afternoon for our first training session together. I'm not exactly sure what to expect but I'm not really nervous as I make my way to the floor of the tall building that holds the gym. Max is the member of the team that I know the best. He was the one who decided that it'd be a good idea to take me on as a probationary member in the first place. He taught me the basics so that I could keep up with the team on the few outings I joined them on, but that was the extent of his preparations. Training is bound to be more intense now that I'm an active agent. That's fine with me, though. I prefer not dying over dying most days.

Max would string me up if he heard me referring to him as "famous," but that's what he is. He's known publicly as Tremor, and he's been causing a stir ever since he joined the League. He's been an agent longer than anyone else on our team. The mystery that surrounds him is also quite intriguing. He was on a different team before this one, but he makes it a point to never talk about it. He doesn't wear a counterpart necklace and the absence of it suggests something tragic happened. I would never ask out of respect, but I can't help but wonder about all of it.

Max is in the gym tying his shoes when I step off the elevator and join him in the gym. He glances up when I come in and gestures towards the indoor track a room over with his head.

"Take a couple laps, Ford," he orders.

He doesn't have to tell me twice. Running is a good way to warm up before this whole mess of a training session begins. Starting with something I'm familiar and comfortable with helps settle me down before we actually start.

The blood in my veins is practically vibrating with excitement by the time I meet back up with him. I feel a bit readier for whatever he'll be throwing at me.

Actually, I take that back. Max can throw literal earthquakes at people and I definitely wouldn't be able to handle that. What am I going to do in response? Splash water in his face? Freeze him up and watch him vibrate hard enough to crack the ice?

He looks at me and nods to the floor, crossing his arms with an amused glimmer in his green eyes.

"How many push-ups can you do?" he asks.

Embarrassingly enough, the answer is a measly thirty-eight. My arms give out on the way down for the thirty-ninth, loose like cooked spaghetti. Truly pathetic, if you ask me.

"I see," he says, obviously trying to keep the chuckle out of his voice. "I'll add some stuff to your solo work to see what we can do about that. We're gonna start today with some non-power work today."

He offers me a hand and yanks me up from the floor. The world tilts for a second from the quick movement but I regain my bearings just in time for him to demand I punch him.

"Go on, take a swing," Max says, dropping into a defensive stance, "let's see what you've got, popsicle."

I eye him warily as we circle each other for a few moments, assessing the situation as best I can. This is totally a trap, but I guess that's the point. He's not expecting this to go well on my first try.

I finally go for it, right hand curled into a tight fist and aimed straight for his face. Max ducks with practiced ease and instead turns it back on me, grabbing my arm and twisting it tightly behind my back. He kicks the back of one of my knees before I can react, which sends me whooshing to the floor. I hit the hardwood flooring beneath us hard and internally cringe at the thought of what kind of bruises I'm going to leave with tonight.

He tugs me up to my feet once more and I stumble back a step, taking in a few quick breaths as I try to catch up. Everything happened so quickly.