[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

Comments

[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]

"Well, technically speaking, we could fix the ground if we just leveled the area, or--" I cut myself off mid-babble, because that so isn't the point, and let out a resigned sort of sigh. Shortly after my arrival, I ran my body through a battery of tests, curious to see my new limitations. I know how much I can lift, how long I can hold my breath, how high I can jump, and an assortment of other trivia, but it's like I was saying before, about not trying to improve on those factors in any intelligent way.

I went out and I practiced, came home a little bruised and battered whenever I was trying to work on my targeting -- I've gotten the hang of that much, at least, even if it took me a while -- but I didn't have a goal beyond not dying the next time someone like Norman rolls into town. That's got to change. That's why I'm here.

"Or we could start with balance."

[onlyforthedream]

"Good call." I walk a little around him, just to keep warm, keep moving, not in some attempt to size him up or intimidate him.

"So you've never had any training, for any formal technique?"

[daretodo]

"Not in so many words," I say, following his trajectory with my eyes until that's no longer feasible, and I have to start turning on the spot. I'm not about to show him my back, even if this is just training; I have a feeling I'll end up on the ground if I do.

"I've had... People who've tried to help me understand my abilities, mostly," I add, thinking of Ezekiel, and how that all ended. "A few sessions here and there with different people over the years. Nothing structured or steady, though... And nothing, initially."

[onlyforthedream]

"All right," I say, walking forward until we're closer and face to face, then step back with one foot and lift both hands up into a traditional boxing stance.

"The basics."

[daretodo]

"Include boxing, apparently," I say, arching an eyebrow even as I mirror his stance, albeit with one important difference. I stand on one foot, the one not attached to the twinging ankle. "Are we gonna fight on one leg or something? I mean, if we're working on balance, and all."

[onlyforthedream]

Thinking ahead. It's good quality to have, especially in a fighter, but part of training Peter is going to be keeping him with one thing long enough for it to be really learned, perfected, before he moves on to its natural conclusion. This jump ahead is fine, though.

"We weren't going to yet, but it makes sense to give that ankle a break. All you have to do is block." I stay on both feet.

[daretodo]

"...that was a joke," I say, eyes widening. I know I'm a little rusty when it comes to cracking wise, but there was no way I thought he was going to take the suggestion seriously. I wobble on my one leg in my surprise, wondering what the hell I've just signed on for. "Do you-- You understand humor, right? Even if you don't exhibit it yourself?"

[onlyforthedream]

"You'll want to bend that knee, sink into it a little," I tell him, not letting so much as a hint of grin touch my mouth, absently flexing the fingers of both hands before I curl them into fists, holding the boxer's posture.

"I won't throw a punch until you've found your center."

[daretodo]

"'Find my center,' right," I cut in quickly, nodding, like what he's saying is perfectly reasonable. It's not, by the way. It's insane. Whatever he's said to the contrary, I suddenly don't buy that this isn't a little bit of good ol' revenge for getting him to pull those stitches last month. I mean, jeez, he's basically just asking for my permission to let him hit me!

"Right," I say again. "I'll just find my center long enough for you to punch me in the face, that's great incentive, Cap," I add, and in spite of my protests, I try to balance myself as best I can, adopting a defensive stance that'd be a lot better were I still on both feet. "Boy, I sure am glad I'm an Avenger."

[onlyforthedream]

"Peter," I say, "hands here, and here. Arms like mine. This is about form, not instinct."

[daretodo]

"Yeah? How many boxers box on one leg?" I ask, flashing him an irritated glance. If nothing else, I'm a quick study; the benefits, I guess, of being a perpetual grad student. I'm good at learning, it's a trait I value, something important to me, and even if I have to question today's teaching technique, it takes me all of a second to mirror him. Admittedly, though, the position feels awkward, my arms held in closer than I might have done out of instinct, but then, that's sort of the point, isn't it? I have over a decade's worth of bad habits to break.

"Is there a league? Are they all pirates?"

[onlyforthedream]

"It's actually a kick boxing technique, but we're not going to worry about our legs just now, except that one you're balancing on." When he seems comfortable, or as comfortable as he'll let himself get, I step in with a brusque, old fashioned one-two-three. Nowhere near full speed and with no power behind them at all. Whatever Peter may think, I'm not out to knock him down.

[daretodo]

I end up hopping back a step after the first part of his combination, but I'm steadier for the last two, blocking the strikes as they come, though the positioning of my arms still feels awkward.

"Okay, so there's a league of kick boxing pirates, that's what you're saying?"

[onlyforthedream]

Honestly, I wouldn't be surprised by such a thing at this point in my career.

"I'm saying keep your right hand up, a little more. The most important premise is to keep your face protected." Another one two three, barely any faster, still not real punches. It's about placement, not power. Not yet.

[daretodo]

"Because I'm so good looking," I say, following his instruction in spite of the quip. That's the trick, see; if you're gonna run at the mouth as much as I do, you've still got to be able to pay attention to what's going on around you. My balance has leveled out entirely, now, my free leg held slightly in front of me, but it's like what I said before, about being a quick study. Strange as it is to be studying this, that doesn't change the fact that I'm an academic at heart; I don't need a lot of repetition to get something under my belt.

"Gotcha."