I Thought You Were Different

Romanoff

Day one was easy, and day five was a bit more challenging; day fifteen had you questioning your decisions, but something clicked on day thirty-one that had you beginning to think that you had a shot at this actually working.

"Steve, throw the damn shield," you breathed out heavily, standing ready for him to move, but growing annoyed that he was hesitating.

"I don't want to."

"I don't want you to either, but you're the one who made this plan for me. So throw the thing already."

He groaned to himself and finally gave in, throwing it with precise aim, but with far less strength than you expected; you easily reached up and plucked it from the air before it could connect with you to do any sort of damage. It also did nothing to test your ability. "Rogers, I swear..." you snapped, pulling back and returning the throw with every ounce of energy you had; it was enough to knock him back off his footing, earning applause from your trainer.

"Nice, (Y/N). I see your aim is still intact," Clint laughed. "I'm gonna get you trained on the bow yet."

"Keep that dream alive, Barton- woah, get down!"

Steve was still being kind, bouncing the shield off the far wall and towards you, allowing you a few seconds to respond, but this time there was no mistaking that he was at his full strength. As the trajectory shifted you realized that it wasn't aimed for you, it was aimed for Clint. You dove forward and threw your shoulder into him, knocking him to the ground before the shield could strike him down instead.

"What the hell, Steve?" you barked. "That was a dirty throw!"

"No it wasn't," he smirked, "you did exactly what I wanted you to do."

"Oh, so now you wanna play?" Seeing the look of recognition in Clint's eyes that he had seen his life flash before him for no real threat, you pushed up from atop him and assumed a fighting stance towards your fiancé. "You really want to do this? If I get my hands around that pretty neck of yours, you are going to sleep."

"Give me your best, doll," Steve growled, lowering himself to match your position. He waited for you to make the first move, his body shifting in anticipation of your attack. He rolled you first, easily flipping you onto your back and pinning you with his legs. "I thought you were ready."

"And I thought you were smart," you smiled up at him, thrusting your head forward to catch him in the jaw and tipping him back enough to get your legs free. He paused to regain his senses with a shake of his head, but before he realized what was happening, you were on his back with your arm tightly around his throat and your legs pinning his arms to his sides.

"Go to sleep, baby."

Steve kicked his leg out to try to jostle you free but to no avail. He managed to stand and stumble back, slamming you against the wall with his weight, but you held firm despite the pain that crushed your chest. You could hear Clint laughing from across the room and glanced up when Tony entered the room.

"You know you can't get out of this, Steve. You never could," you cooed into his ear. "Just go to sleep."

"Is she seriously knocking him out?" Tony gasped, watching you with both complete shock and overwhelming awe at how fast you had regained your skill. "This is fantastic! Take him down, sweetheart!" he yelled out to you with an enthusiastic clap of his hands.

Steve dropped forward onto his knees and you felt him begin to relax beneath you. A momentary flash of worry and a little bit of guilt crossed your mind and you loosened your grip, unsure if you were actually able finish the fight as you had promised. "Bad idea, (Y/N)-" he began, but you quickly tightened around his throat again. It was only a few seconds before his vision began to darken around him and he felt himself tumbling forward.