Chapter Eleven
The weighted bag swung wildly and Klara tried to move with it, keeping her fists clenched, her legs bent, her elbows tucked. She was early to the gym today, but she hadn't been able to sit for even one moment longer. She was still waiting to hear back on the results of their testing from the previous day, and if she had to read one more line of the book Darcy Lewis had transmitted to her, she was going to scream. It was meant to be a romantic comedy, but the jokes fell flat, and the characters only grated on her nerves with their mundanities. Honestly, she could not understand how the girl could read such drivel and actually enjoy it. At least it wasn't another of those terrible novels like she had sent before, what she liked to call 'trashy romance'. The word 'trash' was a descriptor Klara could vouch for.
She swung at the bag as it made a circuit back within striking distance, then ducked to the side and hit it again, several rapid shots with her fists that stung even through the thick padding around her knuckles. A trickle of perspiration tracked down her temple, and she brushed at a damp curl that had come loose of her tie. Her legs were starting to ache from the crouch, and she straightened for a moment, stopping the swing of the bag with one hand.
"Well, you're no Jack Murdock, that's for sure."
Klara's spine stiffened as Natasha Romanov materialized out of the shadows, strutting forward with a cocky twist to her lips. She reminded Klara of Fulla in that moment, but she shoved that thought away instantly. Miss Romanov was nothing like Fulla. Miss Romanov was far more dangerous.
"Captain Rogers has been very patient with me," Klara answered, trying to keep her voice neutral, "He is a good teacher."
"Steve is a softie with a heart of gold, and he has absolutely no sense of the things you're capable of."
Klara blinked and the other woman's smirk widened into something almost wicked. She approached the bag with deliberate care, caressing it with her fingertips.
"It's one thing to hit a bag," Miss Romanov said, tracing patterns in the vinyl as she circled, "It's something else to hit a person."
"Yes, I imagine so," Klara said, hands clasped behind her as tightly as she could. She was in her armor. She was strong.
"No use imagining it," Miss Romanov said, "You have to feel it to understand."
She swung almost lazily, and Klara ducked but lost her balance, stumbling to one knee on the rubber floor. Miss Romanov dropped to a crouch beside her.
"Your instincts are good, but your reflexes are lousy," she said, "Only gets better with practice. And you won't get that from Steve. Not quickly anyway."
"Why not?" Klara snapped, meeting the woman's gaze and bracing herself on the mat, ready to spring back up should the need arise.
Miss Romanov smiled, but it wasn't a pleasant expression. It was the expression of a cat, pleased to see that its prey had shown enough spirit to be chased.
"Because he looks at you and sees a person," she said, "Where I see a target."
She kicked out and swept a leg beneath Klara, sending her slamming backward to the floor. Klara gasped but did not cry out, gritting her teeth and breathing through her nose. Then she rolled back onto her feet, spinning to miss a punch by bare inches. Again, it had been a lazy effort, but the other woman looked pleased by the effort.
"Alright then," Miss Romanov said, still with that feral glint in her eye, "Let's get started."
"Are we ever gonna fly again?"
Alice sipped at her coffee, watching as Tony moved a few variables around on one of the lab screens, her test book forgotten on the table. Bruce was still sleeping off yesterday's ordeal. It was completely possible he might sleep until dinner.
"Getting itchy feet?" Tony asked, turning a genial smirk her way, "Last week you didn't even wanna leave your room."
Alice stuck her tongue out at him, but he wasn't far off the mark. She had come down to the lab under the pretense of studying, but she couldn't even convince herself of that lie. Turning your back on Tony Stark in a lab, even for a few seconds, was a good way to become the unwilling subject of an unsanctioned science experiment. No, the truth was Alice was feeling antsy. She needed the distraction.
"Don't you have a final or something?" Tony asked, his eyes flitting over the numbers on his screen, sorting through the data from yesterday's 'practical test'.
"Three finals," Alice said, feeling a knot in her stomach that she tried to ignore, "But if I don't know it now, I doubt I'm gonna learn it in the few hours I have left."
"You probably know more than you think you do," he agreed, never taking his eyes from the numbers scrolling across his screen, "Relax, you've got this."
Alice rolled her eyes. "If you don't stop being nice to me, I'm gonna start to think you've been replaced by a pod person."
"Ooh, Invasion of the Body Snatchers! That one's definitely going in the box."
Alice snorted and took another sip of her coffee, glancing down at her book. She should probably at least flip through the practice questions-
"Holy shit."
She looked up. Tony was staring at his screen, hands suspended in the air like he'd been frozen. All Alice could see were three wavy lines playing on the screen over and over.
"What is it?" she asked, getting up and coming around the table to see what had shocked the great Tony Stark to silence.
The data wasn't completely unfamiliar. She recognized a human baseline, presumably Bruce, mixed in with other numbers that made virtually no sense to her. As an Asgardian, Klara's numbers were off the chart for what humans might consider normal. She didn't look it, but she was almost as strong as Steve Rogers. Maybe that was why the boxing lessons seemed to be working out so well.
Tony dropped one hand to his hip and the other into his hair, pulling his fingers through absently.
"I think I've figured out Klara's deal."
Alice raised an eyebrow at him.
"Her deal?"
"Wait, let me just-" His fingers flew over the screen, muttering to himself as he scrolled through reams of files. "Ah, here we go!"
He tapped a file and another squiggly line appeared, playing in a loop with the other three. They were all running at different rates, different heights, different speeds.
"Holy shit," Tony said again, his hand back in his hair.
"Care to explain to the lowly med student?"
He pointed at each individual line, starting from the top and working down to the newest addition, "Bruce, Hulk, Klara, Thor."
Alice furrowed her brow. "But what are they, Tony?"
"Electricity," he said, "Electromagnetic radiation waves, everybody has 'em, low-level electrical impulses. It keeps our bodies running, sends signals to every part of us. Most of us never feel it. I mean-" He poked Alice in the arm and Alice flinched, frowning at him. "-see? No electromagnetic effect. I can't affect you, you can't affect me, not without a lot of outside power."
"Okay," Alice said, rubbing her arm despite herself, "So what am I looking at here?"
"Well, see this?" Tony switched the Klara and Thor waves so that Thor was next to the Hulk. "Big Green has very similar impulses to a typical Asgardian. Bruce, on the other hand, is more closely related to what we would consider the human spectrum. In order for that transformation to happen, a huge amount of energy has to be expended. That's why Bruce is sleeping in today."
"Yeah, okay, that makes sense..."
"But see Klara?" He switched Thor and Klara back. "Klara isn't on the same spectrum as any of them. Hers is completely different!"
"So?" Alice asked, "We already knew she was different from other Asgardians. And she's clearly not human-"
"Yeah well, watch what happened when her electrical impulses came into contact with the Hulk."
Tony pressed a few buttons and the two waves were highlighted and brought to the foreground. Alice watched dutifully. The lines waved and waved and waved...and then stuttered. Alice took a sharp breath. The lines flickered, pulsed...and then Hulk's lines began to shrink. To come undone. Until finally Hulk's line became Bruce's line. Klara's line pulsed strongly and then went back to normal.
"...holy shit."
"Right?!" Tony exclaimed, "She disrupts the electrical impulses long enough for Bruce to reassert dominance over the pseudo-Asgardian field! She is literally an electromagnetic disruptor!"
"But," Alice said, "So, why is Thor okay? If his is like the Hulk's-"
"They're not quite the same, though," Tony said, bringing Thor's lines into the foreground with Klara's, "See, when she touches him..."
The two lines pulsed in strong time together, neither gaining the upper hand.
"His electrical field is stronger," Tony explained, "She can't disrupt it because it's ingrained in him. It's probably why Cap can handle her too. The serum that changed him is similar to the one Bruce tried to replicate, but in Cap's case, the change took a more permanent hold. It can't be reverted because it literally changed his DNA. Bruce's thing is just temporary, the dominant impulse is still human. In theory, she should be able to give Bruce a big ol' bear hug in his scientist suit with no adverse effects."
"Could this explain the thing with magic, then?" Alice asked, her mind reeling, "Do you think what we call magic...couldn't that just be power based on a different electromagnetic spectrum, one that humans haven't harnessed yet? And Klara's electromagnetic field just...negates it?"
Tony raised his eyebrows at her, then turned back to his screen with wide eyes. "Holy shit."
"Magic and science," Alice whispered, "Thor's always saying..."
Holy shit, indeed.
Routine. That was what Klara had been craving: routine, familiarity, purpose, and the knowledge that her existence might have meaning beyond the mundane. The explanation of her curse, even in strange, scientific terms, had given her that knowledge and the hope of familiarity. Coupled with a successful second practical test and the promise of more to come, Klara finally felt as if she had a place in the Tower, even if that place was merely as a test subject and punching bag.
She wasn't quite certain if Natasha Romanov resented her, or if she was simply merciless with all her students. Being her only student made it impossible to tell. She was brutal, exacting, diligent, and had no patience for weakness of any kind. Klara took pride in giving her no cause to criticize her resolve, but she seemed to have no trouble finding plenty of other faults to disparage her with.
"You're dead," Miss Romanov said, as she slammed Klara onto the practice mat with a fist to her throat, before popping back up into starting position, "Again."
Klara got to her feet, ignoring the pain in her hip and the ache in her back. Three seconds later, she was back on the floor, on her knees this time, with Miss Romanov circling her neck with her arms.
"You're dead," she said, shoving off and circling around, "Again."
Klara did not pause for breath. That was only asking for a knee to the face. She pushed up hard, taking some of her frustration out on the mat, and bounced to her toes, hands up, elbows tucked. This time she managed to get a single blow in on the other woman's side, but it didn't even seem to phase her. She dropped and before Klara could think to hop back, her feet were swept out from under her and Miss Romanov was straddling her, hands at her throat.
"You're dead," she said, back-flipping to start once more, "Again."
"How many times you gonna kill her, Nat?"
The unexpected voice sent a jolt through Klara's aching body and she turned toward it, earning a sharp punch to the solar plexus that sent her stumbling back into one of the columns in the training room, coughing and gasping for air.
"As many times as it takes," Miss Romanov said, "You're dead, by the way."
When the other woman did not immediately insist that they begin again, Klara was inordinately grateful. She took the opportunity to catch her breath, letting her head rest against the stone and shutting her eyes against the overhead lights. A shadow passed over her and her eyes opened onto the apologetic face of Captain Rogers. Klara could feel embarrassment color her face and she tried desperately to stop gasping like a fish.
"Sorry," he said, "That was my fault."
"No, it wasn't," Miss Romanov insisted, "It was her fault. Distractions are not excuses."
"I'm afraid she's right, Captain," Klara said, forcing herself upright and trying not to wince as pain shot up her bruised shoulder, "It was my fault. I shouldn't have allowed such a little thing to lower my guard."
He raised an eyebrow and turned to Miss Romanov, "I leave for two weeks and you're already inside her head? That's scary, Nat."
"Girl's got brains," Natasha said, unwrapping her hands, an indication that they were done for today, "Her reflexes are still lousy, but we're working on that. Eventually, she might even not suck."
Klara dropped her eyes and felt a tiny smile flit across her face. It was the closest thing to a compliment she'd heard from Miss Romanov since they'd started.
"I'm going to take a shower," Miss Romanov said, though she looked as if she'd not even broken a sweat, "I feel like I have rookie all over me."
"Yeah, I hear that stuff's contagious," Captain Rogers quipped, to which he received a sound punch to the arm as Miss Romanov strode by.
Klara did not breathe easy again until she was actually out of the room. She had learned, in the days they had been training together, to never truly believe that the day was done until you saw Natasha Romanov leave the room with your own two eyes. She let out a long breath (which pained her ribs a bit, where she had been kicked at least twice) and began to gingerly free her own hands from their wraps.
"So, how long has Nat been beating you up?"
Klara glanced up. Captain Rogers was still there, dressed in his denim and short sleeves, leaning against one of the pillars with his arms crossed and his eyes flitting over her. She dropped her gaze. What must he think of her, to be so obviously inept?
"Perhaps ten days?"
"Every day?"
"Not on Mondays," she corrected, "I spend Mondays in the Dungeon, with Dr. Banner and Mr. Stark."
"Jesus," he muttered, and she glanced up to see him running a hand through his blond hair, "I leave for two weeks, and you go suicidal. Does Thor know about this?"
Klara flinched. "Lord Thor knows where I spend my time, yes."
That was technically true. Lord Thor knew that she spent many hours in the gymnasium. He simply did not ask how she spent that time. And Klara was very good at ignoring aches...and hiding bruises.
"No one touches one of mine..."
Captain Rogers sighed, and Klara shoved the memory away. He was shaking his head, hands shoved in his pockets.
"Look, I know it's none of my business," he said, "But Nat can get pretty...well, she's serious about what she does. If it gets to be too much, if she...goes too far-" He looked up and straight into her soul with those blue eyes. "-just let someone know, alright? Thor, or Alice, or...look, don't just take it and assume that if you can't handle it, you shouldn't be here. We can talk her down, just...say something, okay?"
Klara felt her shoulders stiffen. He'd said we. Though he hadn't named himself, he had all the same lumped himself in with that word. We... Her hands were clasped behind her, holding the roll of tape in a tight grip. She was strong. She was strong. She ignored her aches and pains and dipped him a respectful curtsy.
"Of course, Captain."
He did not look as pleased by this as she thought he should, but he nodded in acknowledgment.
"Right," he said, shoving upright from the pillar and running a hand through his hair again, "Right. I guess I'll see you around then."
He turned to go.
"Captain?" He turned back. "I'm pleased you're home safe."
He looked taken aback for a moment, but then he smiled, one of those brilliant smiles that lit his whole face from within. She had missed those smiles.
"Yeah," he said, "Me too."
He was gone before Klara felt her world had properly balanced again. She pressed one hand against the nearest stone pillar, and wrapped the other around the silver pendant beneath her tunic, felt it burn against her skin.
His eyes danced with delighted mischief, glittering through the golden light. "It suits you...I knew it would..."
She shut her eyes and tried not to let her guilt consume her.
A/N: Daredevil reference FTW! ;D