An hour or so later, after moping around in my room thinking of my predicament, Coulson had braved his way up to my room and requested I come down for dinner. I reluctantly agreed; he had always been kind to me, and I would feel bad if I let my bad feelings about Fury push over onto Coulson. I followed him, head down, towards the room we'd be dining in.

I remained quiet as I sat around the table with the others, looking down at my food with no expression. I had no appetite, after seeing Nick again my anger became refueled. I spoke to no one, preferring to keep to myself. Bruce sat to my left, while Natasha was on my right; I guess that grade A asshole figured they could handle me should I get out of control.

"You should eat." I looked over at Bruce, who had just addressed me. He looked at me, then towards my food before looking at me again, willing me to eat something. I shook my head.

"I'm not that hungry."

"Are you going to waste the food?" Nick watched me from the other side of the table, arms crossed. Any banter that had been going on, mainly between Steve and Tony, had stopped and now all eyes were on us. I looked up at him with contempt.

"Why? Do you plan on blackmailing me into eating the food?" Tony snorted into his drink, bringing the attention over to him.

"I like her." He replied while wiping his mouth and the excess drink that was now on his shirt. A smile flickered onto my face for a brief second, but was gone once everything had gone back to normal. Steve and Tony began to go back and forth and argue again, while Bruce kept to himself. Natasha was having a conversation with Hawkeye, whose name I still didn't know, while I sat alone with no one to speak to. I still didn't fit in, not even among the freaks of society.

Nick was watching me from across the table; I glared over at him as his gaze didn't falter.

"What?" I growled in annoyance.

"You have an attitude problem." He slammed his fist down on the table, causing all the silverware and plates on to the table to shake. It grew quiet again, and the tension grew.

"I don't have an attitude problem. You have a problem with my attitude, so it sounds like it's your problem. Not mine." I earned another snort from Tony across the table, while all eyes were on Fury. He seemed to be thinking over what to say; I could think of a variety of words he'd probably want to be saying to me right now. I didn't care. I didn't belong here, and I shouldn't have accepted his deal. He could have been lying to me; I didn't know the truth of the matter.

"You need to be trained." I raised an eyebrow at the sudden change of subject. "Captain, I believe you're up for the task of dealing with this rambunctious teenager." The blonde captain blushed from across the table, coughing into his hand before nodding his head.

"Yes, sir."

"Start after your done your meal; it doesn't seem like she'll be eating." I ignored him as he addressed me again, instead feeding into the feeling of nervousness and excitement of what was to come. I was going to be trained by Captain America, my long time hero! This was a once in a life time chance; most people who led normal lives never got chances like this.

"Are you ready?" Steve stood up, walking over to stand behind me. "The room is this way." I nodded, keeping my head down as I left the table and followed him. They already seemed well acquainted with the ship, seeing as he could move around here as though it were nothing. I was going to get lost for a long time, unless I didn't bother staying. I could figure out from my room to the place where they kept the food. That was the extent of my knowledge. Knowing where the food was would come in handy later; my growling stomach already began to protest at having turned down some food.

Steve glanced back at me, smile on his face.

"Hungry?" He asked playfully, turning around and handing me a roll tucked away in a napkin. I gave him a confused look, wondering where he had even hidden it in the first place. Or maybe I really just didn't pay any attention. I happily nibbled on the roll, thanking him. "Come on. You need something in your stomach if we're going to get you in shape."

"Oh, right. Can't wait. Gym was my favorite subject in school." I mumbled under my breath, following him into the training room. It wasn't necessarily large; it was just the right size. There were punching bags lined up against the wall, a few treadmills near the back, and large weights placed along dark blue mats.

"I won't go to hard on you the first time. Here, let's start with this." He hooked up a punching bag in front of me, before tossing me some bandages to wrap around my hand. While I did that, he decided to play twenty questions with me.

"What's your 'power' exactly? Fury told us we had to be careful around you until we gained your trust."

"Oh, so he didn't give you the details on me like he did with the rest of you?" He shook his head. "Well, I guess I can show you before I completely pass out from all this exercise." I looked around the room, spotting an old glass of water resting on a rickety table near the treadmill. Steve watched warily as I fetched the glass, asking him to hold it.

I closed my eyes, holding up my wands before gently swaying them back and forth. The water began to swirl in the cup; with a quick movement, I moved my hand up and the water shot towards the ceiling like a fountain. I kept the water bunched together in a tight ball as Steve watched, mouth agape, as I made sure it fell perfectly back into the glass.

"I guess if I don't have any fighting moves, swishing water around in the air wouldn't be really useful." I took the cup from him, placing it back on the table. "I can control fire, too. And the earth. Air, too. It's made for some interesting experiences." I tightened the bandages around my hand, standing in front of the punching bag. "Ready, Cap'n?"

"Yeah." He replied shortly, smiling and shaking his head. "Let's see what you've got."

It turns out I didn't have much. My arms weren't flimsy, I'd played softball when I was younger for about three years, but I had stopped awhile ago. There was some muscle, or that's what Steve said, but I'd need to train for awhile to build it back up. I sighed, wishing I just had a suit of armor to do all the work for me before continuing on with the training. I punched the bag until my hands grew sore and my arms felt as though they'd fall off; he had suggested stopping hours ago but I insisted on pushing my limits.

He had stayed with me the whole time, pointing out any flaws in my stance or punches. He gave me tips, complimented me when I got something right, but as it got later, he insisted that we stop until tomorrow. I respected his wishes, and like a true gentleman he walked me back to my room to make sure I got there with no hassle before leaving for his own.

That crush I had on Captain America wasn't going away any time soon that was for sure.