The Beginning of a Hero

Chapter Three: Fists, Knives, and Bows, Oh My!

Clint clasped my shoulder. "She is. Lily, meet Wanda Maximoff-" he gestured with his free hand to the woman who spoke- "Thor-" then to the towering blond stack of muscles I already had identified- "Dr. Bruce Banner-" Dr. Banner gave an awkward wave and smile to me- "and Sam Wilson." Sam smiled, and it was surprisingly warm. He was continuing to seem like a truly nice dude.

Rogers and Sam did a quick little bro hug, then Sam fist-bumped the woman (whom I still refused to dignify a name). "Glad you guys managed to get here all in one piece. Does she have any fighting ability?"

All eyes were back on me. It would've been a bit nicer if they weren't. "I know the basics of archery and knife throwing?" I phrased it as a question because it had been so long since Clint and I did archery together, I was probably terrible at it now, and there weren't exactly many opportunities to practice knife throwing in the Big Apple either. "I'm half-decent in a fight, though."

Which was true. I had gotten in my fair share of fistfights at all the various schools I'd been to. A kid would mouth off to me, snap my bra strap, or do something else stupid, and if it was stupid enough or they did it often enough, I would deck them. There were also several notable occasions where I got in a fight with a jock or two.

I usually came out more roughed up from those ones, but they took hits too, and that's what matters.

Thor took a few steps away from the wall, observing me with his hand on his chin. "Perhaps we could do a friendly spar to get a feel for her abilities."

"Yeah, sure, but not with you, hotshot," Clint said. "I'd rather you not break my kid if that's alright."

Rogers and Sam shared a look. It was one of those looks where they were clearly having a silent conversation where they didn't move their lips, but they did all the other gestures- head tilt, the odd nod, everything. Sam then looked to me and Clint. "Steve and I could do a quick round or two with her." Clint opened his mouth to say something, but Sam held up a hand to silence him. "We'll be careful, don't worry."

He sighed but gestured for me to step into the center of the room. That worried me because there wasn't a mat over the concrete floor. If I got floored... Well, in the spirit of not mincing words, it would hurt like a son of a bitch. Nevertheless, I stepped forward and put my fists up, eyes on Rogers.

Yeah, that was a mistake. Sam just about blindsided me and I barely managed to dodge. My focus shot to him. He was coming at my fast, but with open hands. My one potential in would be the fact I was a cool 5'3". And, when Clint so kindly asked if I was being fed, it wasn't for nothing. I weighed about 115 pounds soaking wet. The other nice thing was he was coming at me open-handed- not fists.

His next swing came and I blocked and went for a torso smack. Sam blocked my attack, and next thing I knew, I was on the ground.

How he kept my head from cracking on the ground, I have no clue, but hey, who would I be to argue?

"Well, that certainly didn't go well," I groaned. An understatement of massive proportion. I got my ass kicked. Gently kicked, but kicked nonetheless.

Sam just chuckled. "I'm a trained veteran. I'd be worried if you beat me." He extended his hand and helped me up. "Go against Steve."

I raised an eyebrow. "What's the point?"

He shrugged. "See how you handle his style of fighting. Curiosity. Those things."

I pursed my lips, but faced Rogers and got back into position. Curiosity, I guess, is as good a reason as any. Even if said curiosity gets my ass kicked again.

Staring him down, that same rage that washed over me earlier, and every time I watch one of those blasted videos. That same man who acted like he knew exactly what was right or wrong, no matter why we did what we did or who was actually in the wrong. He was insufferable.