"You're telling me that you got Captain America-the War Hero, Steve Rogers-to become best friends with a thirteen-year-old kid? What, is this supposed to slowly introduce him to how irritating Generation Z is? Project Training Wheels or something?"
...
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Lizzie Carter winced, rolling her shoulder and stepping back from Sharon so that she could catch her breath. She bit her lip to keep back the plethora of cuss words currently steaming through her brain, staring at the ceiling for a few minutes to control her frustration. The hit her older sister had gotten in would leave a bruise, surely, but she'd long since gotten used to them. Sharon moved away instantly, her hands falling and hovering slightly over the area she'd hit with instantaneous concern. Sister Sharon always took over for a split second, but when Lizzie shook her arm free of the pain and groaned angrily, Spy Sharon returned quickly to shoot her protege a sharp look.
"You know better than that," she said, scoldingly.
Lizzie rolled the crook out of her neck, nodding. "I just missed the window."
"Do it again."
So they did, the private training room in the bitter ends of S.H.I.E.L.D. was filled with the grunts and mutters of irritation from Lizzie as her sister continued to push her. Ever since they'd gotten back from their Christmas break (which had been cut short for Sharon, but Lizzie stayed the full two weeks), Sharon had been going ten times harder in the training sessions. Even Carson, she'd noticed, took time out of her hectic schedule to take her to train with her bow (and even once a gun) when Sharon was in a meeting.
Things changed around the Triskelion when Lizzie returned in the new year. Perhaps it was simply because her visit was coming to an end, but everyone seemed to be more on guard than she remembered. Monroe was distant, Sitwell even more crotchety than usual, both Carson and Sharon hovered around one another like they were sharing a secret. She'd not even seen a glimpse of Fury in forever—she was, admittedly, concerned. Both for those that she cared about and for her body, because at this rate, Sharon was going to break a bone on accident from pushing her so hard.
Lizzie felt it later on that day. On their drive back to the apartments, she tried her hardest to conceal the wince of pain that contorted her face, but her shoulder was hurting. Sharon had dealt some nasty blows in the past, but this one reverberated throughout her whole body. Even the seat of the car hurt to lean against. So the moment she got into their apartment, Lizzie was going straight toward the freezer to grab the first pack of something frozen she could find—broccoli, it seemed. She hated broccoli.
