Heroes of New York

NINE - CAP

Chapter Nine

~Steve Rogers~

I wandered around the underground base, having finished the debriefing from my last mission. I was grateful for the low-tech, military style of the place - it was still a lot, but not as overwhelming as Stark Tower or the Helicarrier.

I hadn't got much time to settle into the modern era, between my recent defrosting and the fight with that Loki guy and the Chitauri-things (not to mention all of the follow-up missions to collect alien tech) I had managed to get myself a tiny apartment in Hell's Kitchen and a membership at Fogwell's Gym (a nice, old-school gym with punching bags and a boxing ring - a reminder of where I came from), but that was it. Not much time to buy groceries, never mind figure out what an 'Instagram' is.

I hoped that after this I'd get the chance to figure things out, but it was beginning to feel like that would never happen, it having been months since the alien invasion. Mission after mission, problem after problem - really I was just hoping for a chance to watch some of the movies on my list and figure out this 'net-flicks' thing that Stark said I needed.

Thinking about this, I stepped into the training room and was brought out of my musings by the sound of about twenty trainees sparring in the middle of the room and a woman with 'INSTRUCTOR' across her back in big letters yelling at them nearly incomprehensibly (but the agents looked pretty rattled by whatever it was she must've been saying).

The instructor was walking around the group, correcting stances, punches and holds forcefully and occasionally attacking trainees when they were getting close to winning their fights.

I stood back and watched, noticing that many of the other occupants of the gym had paused to look too.

Most of the trainees were pretty good, but their moves definitely weren't natural to their bodies.

Except for one.

There was one man who moved deliberately, like he was holding back, purposefully telegraphing his next hits for his opponent (who was clearly having trouble). This went on for a while until the opponent swung a weak punch and he caught her left hand with his right and gently tapped her elbow with the palm his other one.

"Break," he said, before swiftly trapping her in a loose headlock, "and dead."

He quickly released her, asking if she was okay, and then showing her how to throw a better punch.

I was a little shocked. None of the other trainees had won their fights yet, nevermind actually helped to teach one another. I started to watch him a little more closely.

He had a relaxed but solid stance, feet shoulder-width apart and his knees slightly bent. His eyes moved around the room, even with his attention on his sparring partner.

"Okay, recruits," yelled the instructor suddenly. The man I'd been watching didn't startle, but he did stop showing the girl in front of him how to keep from breaking her thumbs in throwing a punch (something I wish I'd known as a kid getting into fights in alleyways).

"Class time is almost over, so we're gonna show you a move that I want you to work on until the next session and I want it perfected by then. No excuses! Understood? Prissy get up here!" The man ('Prissy', I assumed, was not his real name) from before walked up to the front of the group and stood next to the instructor, with his hands in his pockets and a casual stance - but I could tell how tense he was, ready at any moment for an attack from the teacher.

"If you go to kick someone and they catch your leg, this is what you're gonna do." The man kicked toward her chest, perfectly balanced and well-aimed until she caught his foot. "From here you can do a few things: you can pull forward to use your opponent's momentum against them, or push their foot up and back to throw them backwards. But what I want you to practice here is this -" And then she moved nearly faster than I could perceive, grabbing his foot by both the heel and the toes and wrenching it sideways with a crack.

'Prissy' barely flinched, though he did hiss out something that I couldn't hear (undoubtedly a cuss of some sort).

"If you didn't notice," he said to the group, "she just broke my foot. She's lucky I don't have any field missions coming up." He glared at her, and she shrugged.

"Alright, class dismissed, get out of here." She yelled and the training group quickly dispersed, as did most of the crowd of onlookers.

The pair at the front turned to each other and had a brief conversation in some other language, her handing him something from her gym bag on the floor before leaving for the locker rooms.

I made my way towards where he was standing in the middle of the gym, looking a bit lost and balancing on his one good foot.

"Do you need some help?" I asked, offering an arm for him to hold on to. He looked up at me and grinned, barely any semblance of pain in his expression.

"Hey, sure. Thanks, man, just get me to the change room, thanks." He grabbed my arm, then hopped a little closer to swing his arm across my shoulders. I took the cue and wrapped my own arm around his back to support him.

"I'm Percy," he said, as we started moving toward the men's locker room.

"Steve," I returned, "but, uh, you might've already known that." I blushed a bit, feeling a little idiotic. I was pretty widely known, not just in SHIELD, but in the general population as well - there was a whole museum exhibit on me for crying out loud!

Percy just laughed though.

"Don't worry, man. I reserve judgment for after I've met people. So far, I'm liking you. Much better than Clarisse, at least."

Clarisse must have been the instructor that broke his foot, though Percy didn't seem too upset at her for it, looking more nostalgic than anything. I wondered vaguely if he was enhanced somehow (and if he was, then maybe she was too).

"If you don't mind me asking," I ventured, "what language were you two speaking earlier? I didn't recognize it." We pressed through the door and into the emptying locker room.

"Huh? Oh, yeah, sometimes I forget that not everyone here speaks a million different languages. It was Greek," he said, and I realised it did sound a bit familiar. Towards the end of the war, there had been more and more units of Greek soldiers eager to fight the Axis powers after the liberation of Greece from their power. Percy continued, and I could now hear the faint accent in his voice, "Clarisse and I grew up together, she like the cousin I never knew I didn't want."

I cracked a smile at that, my thoughts of the war retreating back into the depths of my mind. We approached a bench. We manoeuvred so that he could sit without too much trouble, and I lowered him onto the seat.

"Thanks, Steve. Leave me here, I'm sure you've got stuff to do, and I've got some stuff to wrap my foot with until I can get to the med centre. Just pass me that bag, would you?"

I passed him the gym bag sitting on top of the lockers, which was open and filled with clothes and a towel (which appeared to be printed with colourful little fish).

"You sure?"

"Yeah, man. We can talk later, I'm sure we'll meet again soon."

I nodded and headed back out toward the gym to do my exercise routine. As the door was closing, I caught a glimpse of Percy unwrapping the package the instructor had given him, and pushing a chunk of what looked like a lemon bar into his mouth. 

Oh my gods, guys, I'm so sorry for the wait! Forgive meeeeeeeeee! :(

I've been writing this since the last update, but between school, student council, clubs, work, university applications and attempting to have a social life, I haven't had much time to work on this. Please let me know if there are any mistakes, because I kind of put this out as soon as I finished writing this so...

Extra-long chapter though, and I'm hoping the next one will be out soon too. Also if there's any suggestions for the plot or anything you'd like to see, go ahead and comment or PM me! I'd love to know what you think.

Side question, what're y'all gonna do for Hallowe'en (I'm going to a party/? Are you dressing up or no (I am and I'm being a sorceress)? And thoughts on candy corn?

See you next update!