Picking Up The Pieces

73. Adapt

   "Hey, wrap your hands, at least," I chuckled as I approached Stacy, sweat beading both our foreheads. The girl looked up from the punching bag at the sound of my voice, a bit relieved when she saw me. "You're still a newbie; we don't want any unnecessary injuries."

"Yeah of course," Stacy chuckled. She took a look back at Amy and Zane, both using the virtual room to train, before she let her smile fall. "Just... am I doing okay? This is an entirely new thing for me. I barely managed to survive PE classes before this, but now... this is a whole different level."

"Hey," I comforted her while grabbing a roll of athletic tape from a shelf. "I didn't expect you to come in here and be super great at this."

"Thanks for the support."

"Come on, you know that's not what I meant," I sighed, and she smiled a little. I took her hand and looped her thumb with the end of the wrap, moving it around her wrist and I carefully set it up. "Even when I was a kid, I struggled to keep up with these guys. I trained because my life depended on it. Granted, funny how that situation seems to be playing all over again-"

"Bella," Stacy stopped my rambling, and I gave my head a quick shake.

"Sorry," I apologized before starting on the next hand. "The point I'm trying to make is... we've been at this for years. For Zane and Amy, it's like this fight for survival has never had a break. I was with the Avengers for a year and doing training on my own beforehand. Hawkes brought you into this mess and gave you powers you never thought you'd have to control. You just have to learn how to live with them."

I stepped back when I finished wrapping her hands, grabbing the red punching bag and holding it steady in front of her. "Curl your hands like you're going to punch something," I told her, and she did what I told her. "Fix your thumb so it isn't under your other fingers, otherwise you could break it." Stacy readjusted her grip, and I gave her a nod of approval. "Now, stand with your dominant foot slightly behind you, kind of like a lunge. Let your knees bend a bit. Once you feel like it's a good position, come give the bag a-"

Boom.

The punching bag shook wildly in my grasp, the chain holding it attempting to swing back and forth from the strength of her punch. I wasn't expecting it, and my muscles tensed as I had to put more energy into holding it in place. A gleeful smile spread across Stacy's face from the success of her hit. Her fist retracted, and I braced myself and the bag before the next strike. Boom, boom, boom. The girl laughed, bouncing back and forth on her feet.

"I think I'm getting the hang of this! she said excitedly, and I agreed with her internally. She was picking up the form with every punch, her body already showing how the blood transfusion was rewiring her brain. Everything I had taught her over the few days had come flying from her as if she had known it since birth. Growing more confident, Stacy pulled her arms up to protect her upper frame as she began to knee and kick the bunching bag.