/In true fanfiction style, Naomi is sounding more and more like me, but please bear with me. You and I are chugging along like a tandem bicycle riding downhill. Weeeeeeeee! Don't forget to please review the story!

"I don't know what's happening, but it is 6 am, and I need you to exit my room immediately; thank you; bye."

Steve stared at the squinting Naomi from the doorway. "Oh, I was going to ask if you wanted to train, but I guess I'll go…"

Did the super serum mess up his circadian clock? Why is it always him who- wait did he say training? Naomi threw herself off of the bed and hopped towards the door as she pulled on her trainers. "I'm up! I'm already in the gym! Hurry up Steve, I'm waiting for training!"

Naomi was vibrating with excitement like a phone on silent when Steve caught up to her in the gym. Yes yes yes, I hope I get to run. Oh my gosh yes. Steve waved her over to the track. Aaaaahhhh! Steve wheeled out a squeaky white board accessorized with dying dry-erase markers that looked like they came straight from every public high school gym ever.

Naomi leaned left and right, trying to peek at what he was writing. Repeats, that's not too bad. The next line was revealed. 400 meter repeats, okay… The next line was revealed. 20 400 meter repeats at 100% speed. He wants- I'm supposed to- ok, maybe I don't want to do the superhero gig after all. When Steve turned around, all the color had drained from Naomi's face and her jaw lay on the floor, but Steve only chuckled.

"You want it?"

Naomi nodded with a tentative determination.

"Let's do this."

Steve wasn't going to tell Naomi that his speed was 95% the super serum. He wasn't going to say that he would've died of an asthma attack if he ran like this at her age. Naomi's legs gave out halfway around lap who-knows-what, and she remained kneeling on the ground. Her legs felt like Jell-O and wouldn't follow her command to stand. Cap jogged over and knelt beside her.

"I can't. My legs are just done. There's no way I can run the rest of this lap and two more fours."

"Then don't. Slowly jog. Walk. Crawl. But we don't quit. I set this workout just like how the Avengers train. It's more than we are capable of truly doing, but our job is to find a way to finish because there will be a time when you're fighting and you want to stop- when your legs give out and you can't bring yourself to continue on. These last three laps are training that voice inside that's saying 'stand up' to yell a little louder, to strengthen the echo of 'find a way' until it's all you can hear, so that you are the last person standing in the arena"

"I might need your help."

"What are we if not a team? I got your back."

Intense training continued over the next several weeks with no clear finish line in sight. It took the encouragement of several Avengers to assure Naomi it was going to be worth it. The only person who refused to talk about her training was Tony- even Clint offered the occasional word of support. In fact, nobody had seen much of Tony. The lights in his workshop were always on and the doors were always locked. Between the various speed and mental trainings, Natasha finally began to teach Naomi combat skills- although several involved people made it clear that hand to hand combat would not be her primary weapon of defense.

One day after sparring with Natasha, Naomi wrote on her notepad, "Does this mean I get to fight?"

It took Nat a second to decipher the ink smudged by sweat, but when she did, it revealed the same question that had been echoing around the compound for a while. "Not my place to say for sure..." Today, however, the answer was a little different. "...but Tony has been working on something that I think you'll like."

Naomi's eyes shot up to face Natasha. "NO. Are you-? Is it? For real? Can I go-?"

The kid's unfiltered elation was too much for even Natasha, and she let out a laugh. "Yes, yes, yes. Go."

Naomi danced impatiently outside of Tony's door like a toddler on the way to the bathroom while she waited an agonizingly long amount of time for the door to unlock. He's definitely doing this on purpose. FRIDAY can 100% see me and unlock the door. This is a choice. TONY STARK I'm going to- *Click*

"Hey kid, what's going on," Stark cockily asked from the doorway.

As Naomi struggled to form a coherent response, something caught her attention from behind Tony. "Oh my gosh." She speechlessly squeezed past the Avenger. Her hands slowly signed, "Is that for me?"

"Why on Earth would I be making you a suit," Tony smirked from behind her and made a mental note to save the security camera footage of Naomi's reaction. She stared up at the glass case, utterly dumbfounded. In true dramatic fashion, Naomi's reflection perfectly aligned with the suit's silhouette.

"Because it's my size and in my favorite colors and you took my idea of having white gloves to see signs better and I really really want a suit!" Naomi signed as fast as her fingers could move, ignoring her slower pace she typically used with the Avengers. Tony likely couldn't understand a word of what she was saying, so what? She was excited- he got the gist. The suit was a mixture of dusty orange and rich purple with white sleeves, gloves, and sneakers. Complete with a sick hood and high-tech looking goggles, it was perfect.

"Yeah okay, it's for you." At least she didn't reject the super cool suit he made like Peter did, that punk. Stark handed Naomi a tablet and dictated, "Through the minute quantum manipulation of your suit, I can make you go freaky fast, but once you use the suit's ability, your actual speed determines how much you can get out of it. The faster you run in your perceived time, the more your speed is multiplied."

"This is so freaking cool. Look! It has pockets! Can I try it on?"

"It's all yours." Tony watched the teen carefully remove the suit from its case like she was handling gold. Once again, he was struck with the polar opposite image of Peter's dirty suit crumpled in a corner of his room. Naomi returned with a new posture. She fit the suit- and its meaning- perfectly. "What do you think?"

Naomi couldn't stop herself from laughing. With all her might, with all of her insecurity, she just kept laughing. It was too amazing. "Peter was right about the smell."

Tony's smug facade fell away as if she had said the magic words. He joined her in ridiculous and exhausted laughter. "Just wait til you see the real kicker. Go take the suit for a test run." "Tell Pete to pick up his suit and meet Naomi at the track," he added to FRIDAY.

In a bold move fueled by soaring adrenaline, Naomi caught Tony off guard with an embrace. It took a second, but Stark's arms found their way around the kid in a caring hug.

Bang

Naomi took off, digging down deep into her week of training. After two laps at a fast pace she slowed to a stop. The timer blinked: 0:00:00.01. Her first thought was that the timer was broken. There's no way...Half a mile in 0.01 seconds? That's really fast. Something startled her out of her reflection.

"That's so cool," Peter said to himself from the doorway. Naomi hadn't seen him come in while she was running, but he was impressed regardless.

"I know, right?" Naomi whipped around. "Oh my gosh."

"Did you just- Can you hear me!?"

"Did you just understand my signs!?"

"Audio translation." Peter hadn't been able to find his suit for a couple days, but refused to tell Mr. Stark that he lost the priceless piece. The fact that Mr. Stark was the one who had snatched it took an enormous burden off of his conscience. Not only did Karen translate Naomi's signs through some sort of camera-motion-tracking-thing, but a new voice in his suit then read the translation aloud. It was brilliant.

"Subtitles." Woah. So that's what was occupying Mr. Stark. The words scrolling across her visual display were smooth and accurate. It was a technological miracle. It could never replace everyone knowing ASL at the compound, but one thing became clear: it'd work perfectly on missions as an Avenger.