Titanium ~A Bucky Barnes Love Story~

Chapter Thirteen

Jab.

Block.

Counter punch.

Hook.

Blow.

Parry.

Combo.

Jab.

Jab.

Caden was alone in the gym standing in front of a blood and sweat stained punching bag, her bright pink boxing gloves delivering blow after blow to the unfortunate bag.

Hook.

Block.

Jab.

Jab.

This is where she had always come to let out her emotions. Frustration, anger, sadness, depression, hatred, was all let out in this room, every time on this same bag.

She had always been a natural fighter -- Her time with S.H.I.E.L.D. proved it. But this, hand to hand combat, was her strength. She was a boxer, always had been. Her brother had been a boxer, often taking his little sister to the gym with him and teaching her basic punches and blocks. She received her first pair of gloves on her fifth birthday. Those gloves, bright pink with her name stitched on the side, were the first thing she unpacked when she came to live with Tony.

Tony noticed it right away. How could he not? No more than five minutes after she arrived, he had found her in the gym, swinging away at that punching bag. After that day, he had always pushed her to join a team, to be a real boxer, in a real ring, fighting other real boxers. She always had refused, saying all she wanted to do was to do it alone, whenever she wanted, not as a part of a team, having to be relied upon. She wasn't a team player, she had always told him, she was better off being alone. It just wasn't going to happen. She would drag her feet -- literally -- whenever he tried to take her to a trainer.

After three years of trying, three years of Caden just sitting down in the ring, gloves on her hands, glaring darkly at him, Tony finally stopped forcing her. He let her loose in the gym, bringing in all sorts of world class equipment for her to work with; bags, weights, bars, a sparring ring. She was happy in there.

So, he let her be.

Caden had always been an orthodox hitter, a natural right hander, but after the injury she took to her dominant arm during the Battle of New York, she had to switch. The doctors told her to just stop all together, any blunt force trauma being a threat to that arm.

She had laughed at them. Like hell she was going to stop.

For months, she spent hours, sometimes full days, in the gym, working on rehabilitation of her maimed right arm, and strength and coordination in her left. It was like starting over from the beginning, trying to convert from an orthodox fighter to a south paw. Out of habit, she would swing a right hook, only to feel extreme pain shooting throughout her arm and upper body. She just couldn't get it.

Caden started feeling depressed, assured that she would never be able to change. After six months, she decided to just stop, hanging up the gloves.

She was done.

That's when Rogers interfered. She still remembered his words. "Don't just quit because you have an obstacle in your path. Think of it as a challenge."

It took weeks of pleading and convincing, but exactly eight months after the Battle, Caden and Rogers walked into the gym, together. For hours everyday they worked out, running through drills, exercises, all concentrating on strengthening her left arm. It took time, a long time, but on the one year anniversary of the Battle of New York, Caden put her newly learned skills to the test.