[for Steve] make a man out of you

[daretodo]

He tells me to meet him in a clearing. It's secluded, far from any dwellings, abandoned or otherwise. Not the kind of place a person's just going to stumble across in the middle of the day, basically. Were it anyone else, I might suspect I was walking into a trap -- and honestly, there's a moment or two, as I cross through some of the denser

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[onlyforthedream]

When Peter came to me with the request to train him, on the heels of what was effectively taking a shot (whether he did it consciously or not), I was surprised. Peter is a loner who's been in the vigilante game longer than most but happens to be younger. He didn't learn with a team. I'm not sure if he learned from anyone.

I raise my hand briefly in reply, and nod to him.

"Afternoon, Peter. Ready to work?"

What Peter may have assumed, but I haven't told him, is that I've fought him recently, back home. That Peter Parker was in a very different place, however- powered, wearing a suit of Stark's design, and not run down from weeks of depression and self destructive behavior.

[daretodo]

"Guess we'll see, huh?" I say on a laugh, flashing him a smile that doesn't reach my eyes. I'm having second thoughts; I've been having second thoughts all morning, but they were easier to ignore before I actually got here, and saw the reality of my situation. He's bigger, stronger, and even coming off his injuries, in way better shape than I'm in, currently. I haven't been this thin since my two month clinic stay last year, a couple of weeks of three square meals a day not enough to undo the damage of over a month running myself ragged. I'm lean and hungry looking, sure -- but only in the way that makes people like my Aunt May shove a sandwich in my direction.

Cap's Mr. Pinnacle of Human Perfection.

Boy, maybe I should've asked Wolverine. At least he's short.

"So, uh, how's this gonna work? I don't... Normally do this. Should I be bowing?" I lower my head, slightly. "Waxing on and off?" Lifting my hand again, I make a circular gesture, and then quickly straighten, giving him a salute instead. "Standing at attention?"

[onlyforthedream]

I got through Clint Barton, I can get through this.

"At ease, Peter." I rotate my recovering shoulder a few times and take a couple steps back, easing into a squared off stance but by no means hunkering down.

"We're going to take this easy, there's no rush here. It's just a warm up, think of it like sparring." I gesture, an easy turn of my wrist, for him to move forward.

"Come at me."

[daretodo]

"...you're joking, right?" I say, brows shooting upwards. Granted, there's absolutely nothing about his posture that indicates he's joking -- and frankly, he's not exactly known for his stellar sense of humor, anyway -- but I figure it's worth asking, anyway. There's no point in looking too eager about this, firstly, because of those second thoughts that have since turned into third and fourth thoughts, and secondly, because I've already taken an ill-advised shot at him last month. I try not to repeat past mistakes, it's a thing.

"I mean, I was expecting push-ups. Sit-ups. Some sort of Cap's Bootcamp type of set-up. But you just want me to come atcha? Really?"