Lithium heaved as she entered her second mile, already feeling lightheaded. The problem?

She’d been attempting to keep pace with Steve. And he’d left her behind after half a mile. Now, he was working on passing her again. Again. She’d kept with him for half a mile and now at a little over two miles he was passing her for the eighth time. Maybe ninth She was spacing out every few seconds. She couldn’t focus. The oxygen wasn’t flowing to her brain like it should. And it was utterly exhausting.

“On your left,” he warned as he began to pass her again. She groaned, digging deep to pull some energy from her legs and keep going, to keep with him for at least a few seconds. That would be slightly less embarrassing, right? Unfortunately, it hurt like hell.

Worse yet, the lightheadedness increased. She wavered slightly and quickly shook her head, trying to get her state of mind back. The moment her head turned towards the sidewalk, eyes closed, her ankle pushed against the curb.

She didn’t have the stability to keep from falling over. It felt slow motion, and honestly, she was so exhausted, she didn’t really care. It didn’t even cross her mind that the sidewalk was likely to crush the back of her skull. She honestly wasn’t sure if she blacked out for a second or if she had just expended so much energy she couldn’t think.

She did know one thing, though.

Her skull most certainly didn’t get crushed. When she had the capacity to think again, all she knew was that she was lying in the grass, and the cool morning air contrasted with her lungs in an almost comforting manner. It was cool and damp, as was the grass, for that matter, but considering how heated her lungs felt, it was like a slight balm. Of course, her damned airways warmed the chill too much for it to feel all that nice.

It was barely even dawn.

Why on Earth had she agreed to this?

She tensed, pushing the thought away roughly. No. She wouldn’t go there. She wouldn’t question this. She had to do it. She had to keep going. Steve had probably passed her again by now. She groaned, forcing her eyes open as she sat up, the rush of blood dropping from her skull causing her to waver again. She paused, closing her eyes before she could even absorb her environment, placing a hand over her eyes.

Lithium tried to slow her breathing, tried to control it. ‘Get a hold of yourself . . . Slow . . . Take it slow . . . You’ll get there . . . He can’t blame you if you try . . .’ She forced her breathing to slow and took a staggered breath, shifting her weight to stand. She winced, anticipating another fall, not because her legs were giving out, but because she felt like she was nearly sideways. ‘Vertigo. Of course. Not fun.’

She expected to crash back into the ground, this time fully aware of the placement of the sidewalk and the way it could crush her skull, but she didn’t have as harsh a landing as she expected. It was a gentle, slow, placement against the ground.

She forced her eyes open again, slowly, despite the sun that was getting brighter and brighter in the sky. ‘What a terrible, droll thing,’ she thought bitterly. Those thoughts quickly changed when she saw him leaning over her. Captain America. Steve Rodgers. Born on July 4th, of course, the most patriotic of days. Six foot two inches tall, over 200 pounds of muscle. A physical specimen created by science. Capable of running a mile in less than three minutes. Less than two and a half. He was amazing.

And he was watching her. She bit her lip, cursing the flush that was slipping across her face. ‘Stop staring . . . Stop staring . . . Stop staring!’ Of course, she wasn’t sure if she was thinking about herself or about him. The back of her skull was beginning to ache from the way the base of her ponytail was sitting against the ground.

It was only a slight distraction, but she’d use it as an excuse to not think about him. He was, honestly, a little intimidating. She’d wanted to meet Captain America for so long, but now she was terrified of letting him down. She wasn’t sure she could face that kind of failure. She wasn’t sure she could take it if he told her she was a disappointment.

No. She’d keep trying. She’d-.

Hurt like hell when she tried to sit up. Her head was killing her. She fell back down, not caring for a moment what he thought, immediately feeling ashamed a moment later. ‘Super soldier indeed, you lying bastards . . .’ She came to regret that thought a moment after it formed, as well. She silently apologized, though she wasn’t sure if she should. What would the captain think of her thoughts?

“Lithium,” Steve began, and her heart felt like it was being squeezed when she heard his voice.

‘Don’t say it, don’t say it, don’t say it!’ She thought rapidly, wrenching her eyes shut, scared that he would tell her he refused to train her. The tears began to form in her eyes already, and her lip wavered.

“Did-,” he started, but she immediately cut him off, sitting up so quickly her head was pounding.

“Please don’t! I’ll do better! I swear! I can do better! Don’t turn me down! I’ll get better! I’ll train extra on my own! For the love of everything don’t send me away! I can be better, Captain!” She was breathing heavily still, a bit more than she was a moment ago thanks to the sudden nervousness that had seized her. Her skull was aching.

The captain blinked, almost cluelessly, but he managed to piece together what she was talking about, even though her topic hadn’t been where he was headed. “Lithium . . .” He began again, still calm. “Did you drink anything this morning?”

She blinked rapidly for a moment, trying to get the spots to fade from her vision. “I, um . . .” She thought about it. She’d prepped for training the night before, attaining the proper equipment, considering stilettos and bodycon dresses weren’t exactly meant for running and lifting weights. “No . . .” She admitted. Aside from half a glass of juice, she hadn’t taken in any fluids this morning, and she was fairly certain that didn’t really count.

He took a quiet breath, shaking his head. “Well, that aside, I’m impressed with you, you did pretty well. I definitely didn’t expect you to keep pace with me for that long. Do you want to wait here or come with so we can get water? There’s two bottles waiting at the end of the course.”

Lithium did her best to ignore the way her head felt like she was going to go down like Titanic. She stood, and with what felt like a vast amount of extended effort, she didn’t fall back over immediately. It took a few moments for her to regain a sense of balance, and Steve was right beside her as they started walking towards the end of the one mile loop.

She was still breathing deeply as they walked, and unfortunately, he led her the long way around. She frowned at the sight. She wanted to turn around and head straight back. It was less than a quarter mile back. This would cover nearly three quarters of a mile.

“Wh-why-?” Before she could finish, he began to answer, anticipating her question.

“Because having a cool-down is important. You’re still sweating a fair amount, so you’ve got fluids in your body. If you can’t think straight anyway, getting you a water bottle won’t do much good. You’ll end up getting more of it on you than in you. What you need right now is to calm yourself, then get some fluids. You’ll survive.”

She took a forcedly slow breath, suppressing any sounds of discontent. She knew that of everyone, the captain would know what he’s doing. Right?

Well, she’d chosen him over Hydra. She didn’t have too much of a choice at this point.

With a sigh, she closed her eyes to try and focus on her steps. ‘One, two. One, two. Right, left. Right, left. You can do this. Of course you can. Just get it done and over with. You’re fine.’ Of course, it wasn’t that easy. Nothing ever was. Her foot brushed against the curb and swept back in front of the other, uncoordinated and hazardous. Her heart’s temporary slip was confirmed when she began to fall, for the third time this morning.

‘Oh, son of a-!’ She tensed, bracing for impact, quietly hating her inability to so much as walk today. For a moment and only a moment, she fell, otherwise, she was stopped. Gently, carefully, she was straightened back out and steadied.

“I-I . . .” She looked at him, watching his hands recede. “Thank you . . .” Lithium murmured, turning her head away, eyes downcast. “I just . . . I’m trying . . . And it’s not working very well for me. Sorry, Captain.”

He watched her for a brief moment, then shrugged. “What’s to be sorry for? You’ve got potential. What you lack is the proper training and regimen. You’ll get there. You’ll be a soldier soon enough.”

Lith gave a small nod, but still felt too foolish to look him in the eye, if he was even looking at her. “How do you trust me?” She asked blatantly, the question bothering her mind, floating through her thoughts since yesterday. Especially at Falcon’s reaction.

~~~

He opened the door to the bedroom, the captain did, allowing Lithium to step out into the living room. And she saw the Captain’s partner standing guard between them and the door that she assumed led to the hallway. She wasn’t a fan of the amount of light pouring through the window, but she didn’t exactly have a choice. It wasn’t like these two would notice much, no one else connected the dots.

But of course, they weren’t exactly like they were just anyone. They were trained soldiers.

And it definitely showed when Falcon had a pistol pointed to her skull within two seconds of her walking out of the bedroom.

On the inside, Lithium screamed at the top of her lungs.

On the outside, she stood quietly, showing minimal reaction. The recognition she gave was that her eyes widened. She’d been conditioned for hostage situations. It was part of her training in case she ever got caught. It hadn’t exactly been the nicest training, either. If she showed a reaction to a gun, she was shocked by the chair she was tied to. She was taught not to show any reaction to any sort of violence or threat. Reaction meant punishment.

She didn’t want to go back to that. She couldn’t. It was a terrible time, but they always insisted it was absolutely necessary.

And now she was staring at the cold metal that Falcon held, half of the gesture a silent threat, the other a silent challenge. It took her off guard when the captain stepped between the two.

“Falcon. She’s safe. Lower your weapon.” The man across the room paused, eyeing the woman suspiciously. “Now, Falcon.”

“All right! But if she breaks your damn neck it ain’t my fault, Captain,” he replied as his arm dropped slowly and he cautiously holstered his weapon at his side.

“We can trust her, Sam,” Steve insisted, refusing to look away from the darker man. “She’s just fine.”

Lithium focused on her breathing, keeping it steady under the stress, even though her heart was pounding. Her superiors would be disappointed in her.

Falcon shook his head in disappointment. “When we have our throats slit in the middle of the night, I’m blaming you, Cap.”

“We can trust her, Sam. She’s fine,” Steve insisted.

“How do you know that for sure?” He retorted.

“Because she gave her word.”

Sam scoffed. “Oh? She gave her word? Cap, I get that you’re from a different time, and maybe when someone, even someone evil, gave their word, it meant something. But now we live in a day and age of lies and deceit. Do you remember Pierce? He seemed perfectly normal, didn’t he? He seemed trustworthy, and look what he did! He almost had you and Romanoff killed!”

“Wilson, what proof do you have that she’s evil?”

“What proof do you have that she’s not?”

“Her word, Wilson!”

“And here we go again! She’s only going to be a burden, Cap. Cut her loose before she gets in the way, or worse yet, hinders us on purpose.”

Lithium frowned, looking between the two men. The captain, who defended her with so little evidence, and Falcon, who was endlessly suspicious. She took a deep breath, shuddering. “I . . .” She paused, not really sure what to say. “I’ll try to stay out of the way.” She let her eyes drift down to the floor, not exactly keen on having interrupted the two and their bickering. She felt self conscious about it. More so considering her clothing and the red marks on her skin where the plastic-wrapped chains had held her.

A hand came to her shoulder lightly. “Is that enough for you, Wilson?”

A pause followed, and she could feel eyes watching her, criticizing her every inch silently. “I’m watching her, Captain. I think you need to realize how good people nowadays are at lying, stealing, cheating and acting. And she’s no exception just because she has a pretty face. Don’t let her slip under the radar just because of that. Why do you think they hired her?”

The captain let a moment of silence pass in thought. “Because she can carry out her missions with efficiency. Because she completed her training with them. Because . . .” He paused, shaking his head, apparently deciding against his next argument. The rest of the day was tense where Falcon was concerned.

~~~

Steve looked over at her, but she wasn’t looking back. She kept her eyes on the grass that grew between the sidewalk and the road.

“Because you gave me your word,” he told her gently.

“How is that enough?” She pressed. “That’s never enough for anyone.”

He shrugged, looking forward again. “Maybe you were born in the wrong generation.”

She sighed, shaking her head. “Maybe the world has just gone downhill since yours.”

He gave a small smile. “I think this one will be okay. It’s not worse, it’s just . . . different . . .”

Lithium scoffed. “Trust me, it’s worse . . .”

“What about your name? Where’s that from?” He asked, trying to change the subject. Her mood seemed to darken when they were talking about the difference in generations.

She shook her head again. “It’s a long, boring story.” They were reaching the end of the loop, and Lith immediately took to one of the water bottles, using it partially as an excuse not to talk about her unusual name. Her unusual given name.

She felt almost ashamed of it now, considering she’d now turned her back on the people who’d given it to her. ‘Don’t look back,’ she insisted silently. ‘Don’t regret any turn your path takes. Trust the captain. Don’t give them a reason for suspicion. You’re changing. Right?’

The worst part was she wasn’t entirely sure she had an answer. She still had a mission she intended to fulfill.