Celeste struggled to take a few more agonizing steps. The fall had broken a few bones, and while one of the alterations Hydra had made included accelerated healing, the soreness echoed in her body. She flinched, inhaling sharply as she stumbled forward. “Shit!” She hissed under her breath, squinting at the floor as she began to shake. ‘Come on . . . Come on!’ Again, she forced one foot in front of the other on the carpeted floor as she moved again, a few inches at a time. “Damn . . . Damn . . .” Short of breath, she closed her eyes tightly, beyond grateful that she was alone.

        This was the first time since waking that she’d attempted walking without the crutches. For the first day, she’d been confined to a wheelchair if she dared move at all. The second, she was forced to use crutches. Today, the third, she was desperately attempting to walk. “Warrior . . . Soldier . . . Fighter . . .” Lithium kept murmuring the words to herself. The reasons why she should be able to do this. The reasons why she should be able to do this with ease.

        Silently thanking the heavens that no one was here to watch her struggle this time, Lithium forced her right foot back in front, shifting her weight forward. Her legs, her chest, her arms, everything just exuded a deep set ache. Gritting her teeth to suppress a scream, she took another step sooner than she was ready.

        Shaking violently from the pain, Lithium fell. As a reaction, she forced her arms out in front of her face, the metal inside her skin shifting into its defensive position. Lithium screamed at the top of her lungs. Not from the impact of the fall onto a cushioned surface, not from the stripping pain that filled her as the metal shifted, but because that sensation of falling haunted her. And now it was real again.

        After she hit the floor, Lithium laid there, shaking and out of breath, slowly curling into a ball. All her nightmares involved falling now. Falling and an impossibly fast attacker with no way to defend herself. No way to save herself.

        She continued to tremble. She didn’t know how long it was when someone was at her side. Gently laying a hand on her shoulder before pulling her into an embrace, quietly murmuring, “It’s all right,” over and over into her hair. For whatever reason, Lithium actually felt . . . safe. Safe enough that she broke a bit, sobbing into his strong build. The fear had been so real. So impossibly, terribly real. Lithium didn’t know if it would ever stop. Would it even wean? The nightmares following Copper’s death still visited her every so often. Would she ever learn to live with it or confront it?

        Lithium didn’t know. She couldn’t say. Hydra had caused so much pain and terror. Yet despite what it had done to her, she was reminded that it had done worse things to Bucky and Steve. “It’ll be all right,” he told her. “I promise it fades. They’ll still care about you, no matter how long it takes.”

        “I-I’m trying . . . so hard . . .” Lithium shivered harshly against him. The pavement rushing up to greet her, the brick walls embracing her with internal pain.

        “They’ll help you,” he assured. “You don’t have to push it so hard. You might hurt yourself this way.”

        “I-I . . . w-won’t . . .” She muttered. “The metal . . . Will protect me . . .” For the life of her, Lithium couldn’t figure out who was here with her. She couldn’t pinpoint him, and she was too scared to open her eyes, feeling like if she did, the pavement would be waiting for her.

        “Perhaps . . .” He told her quietly. “But you should be a bit more careful. These things are dangerous. You can wait. Let your body heal. It won’t be too much longer before you’re back in fighting condition.”

        “Hydra . . . Won’t wait . . .” Lithium argued softly, but firmly.

        “And the Avengers will meet them with all our force,” the man told her gently. “But we need everyone at full power. You have to know your limits. Wouldn’t Steve frown upon you pushing yourself too hard at practice?” Lithium bit her lip, and he took that as a sign of her confirmation. “This is just like any other practice, Lithium. Only this time, you need to focus on relearning your limits rather than pushing them as hard as you can. At least until your body is healed. You can manage that, can’t you?”

        “I . . . Guess so . . .” She muttered in defeat, genuinely upset that she was stuck. She wanted to help. She wanted to fight and be out on the field. She wanted to be training with her teammates. Lying around like a vegetable for a week was bad enough. Her muscles ached for stimulation but screamed when she attempted any. It was agonizing and beyond frustrating.

        “They’ll still be there for you when you’re healed,” he assured her kindly, still holding her tight. “They were there for Bucky when he came back to himself. They were there for me . . . If Natasha could still love me after what I did, they will certainly still love you through this . . . I promise you that . . .”

        With a shudder, Lithium cautiously opened her eyes, looking up to the man who’d dared to comfort her in a desperate hour. “Clint . . . ?”

        He gave a brief nod. “Yes?”

        In all their training sessions, the man had barely said a word to her. Natasha had done most of the talking. A quiet alliance existed between them, not one of fondness or affection, but it was there. If anything happened, they both knew they’d have each other’s back when it came down to it. He just wasn’t very conversational. Most of what he’d said to her before involved brief tips on how to improve her aim or “Good job,” when she got it right.

        Lithium began to quietly cry again. “What about the nightmares? How can I get past those?” She asked, hoping he somehow had an answer for her, even though it was highly unlikely. She just hated the images that flashed across her mind when she was supposed to be sleeping.

        “I can’t tell you that they will ever stop,” Clint muttered sadly. “But it will get better so long as you can realize your beyond that point of your life.”

        Lithium swallowed, trying to suppress the tears. “Thank you,” she whispered, wrapping her arms around him. He held her carefully closer.

        “What for?” He asked cautiously.

        “For understanding,” Lithium admitted.

        “We’re fighters,” Clint assured her. “We stick together.”