She's Mine) Romanogers

Part 17) Two Weeks, Part 2

I walked down to the gym and found that Steve must have already done a workout today. He had left several weights out in a familiar pattern, he wouldn't put them away if less people were in the tower. He didn't see the point if he was just going to get it out later that day, especially since no one else would use the weight he did.

I started to go through a dynamic warm up flow and instantly regretted the choice, I was so nauseous and I felt so weak already, and this was just warm up. My headache seemed to blare brighter with each rep, but I kept convincing myself it would get better the more I pushed, or at the very least, maybe other forms of pain could distract from it. I did, however, drink more water that I normally would have to workout with, so that was a healthy choice on my part. I put on my headphones and blared the music, hopefully a distraction from the pain between my eyes.

I started with the weights and began to go through several reps of free weights and lifts, straining each muscle group until my whole body was shaking and I didn't know if I could do another rep. I walked over to the bench press and laid myself down, exhaling and inhaling to up my resolve. I grabbed the bar off the rest and slowly lowered it, and then began to push it up. It was heavy, not my max, but a higher weight, especially given how much I had already done and how fatigued my body was.

I closed my eyes and strained to push while my back arched off the bench, come on, come on. My ribs were in so much pain and begging me to stop, but I didn't have much of a choice. I pushed until I suddenly felt it become light as air, and then back on the rest. It wasn't me. I opened my eyes to find a very disgruntled and worried Steve as my spotter. He mouthed something and I tried to read his lips, but just ended up cocking my head and raising an eyebrow. He gently removed my headphones, careful so I saw what he was doing with his hands, "what the fuck are you thinking?"

I hesitated as I tried to come up with some valid excuse, he had to be livid.

"Nat," he shook his head, "you need to eat."

"No, I don't. I had enough calories last night," I didn't bother sitting up or moving much, he didn't seem to mind that we were talking upside down to each other.

"That was nowhere near enough calories for one day, not for a normal person, especially not for someone who is already starving, hungover, and working out far more than any sane person should," he scolded, "and what were you doing lifting without a spotter? You were shaking so badly when I came in here I'm just glad your arms didn't buckle."

I sat up and whirled fast at that comment, wincing as the pain in my head and whole body came flooding in a second later. I saw Steve reach down to help in the corner of my eye, and reacted before I thought, jumping back from his hand and flipping away. I crouched ready to spring should he attack, but the logical side of my brain caught up to the reactive side. This was Steve, he wouldn't hurt me. I experienced more pain as that realization dawned, and I just let myself crumple a bit to the floor, my ribs barking in agony.

"Nat?" Steve was instantly worried while also trying to give me space, a hard ask for him, especially when I was in this much pain.

"Ya, ya, fine," I tried to wave him off, "I was fine, Steve. I'm strong enough t-"

"I'm not saying you're weak or not strong enough, I'm saying that we all need a spotter," he gestured to the pulley system Stark had installed over Steve's bench. It let the bar have the same mobility as a free weight, but there was a panic button by Steve's foot so if it were to slip, he could get some help from the machine... given that it would take Clint and I together to pull it off him.

"I just-" I stopped myself as I almost admitted that I was upset at my own body for being so weak. Weak because I couldn't lift as much as I should be able to and weak because it needed the food. I knew I was being defensive, but it still felt like he was calling me weak right now.