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It started when his voice dropped. For a few weeks, James tried very hard not to talk because the family was merciless with teasing for every strangely pitched word he uttered. And boy did his voice break a lot! Tony taught him to shave when the stubble came in and warned him about a few other things that had James hiding his face in his hands with utter embarrassment. He never wanted to hear the phrase “when two beings are inclined to attraction” or any more sentimental variations ever again.
It didn’t help that besides Pym, James was the last one to get the speech. Hawkeye hadn’t needed it, of course, and Azari got it a year ago. Whether or not Torunn did, James didn’t know and wasn’t about to ask. Thinking about her and… and puberty seemed wrong, somehow. Because girl puberty was… uh. Weird.
James dutifully practiced shaving every day, whether he thought he needed to or not. It was amazing how easily he could cut himself. And the guys didn’t let him live it down when he did. He was careful, following the curve of his jaw as Tony had shown him.
One morning, however, when he picked up the razor, it bent against his face. James stared at the thing and wondered just what had turned his razor into soft butter. He rooted around for another and… It had gone soft too, refusing to keep its shape long enough to shave even a hair! Completely confused, James gathered up both and hurried to Tony’s lab. Late as James had gotten up, Tony would be awake.
By the time James got to the lab, he’d broken the door to his room, left dents in the metal siding of someone else’s, broken the lock of the lab, and knocked the stair railing askew. Tony gave him a narrow look at his noisy entrance, but before James could apologize, he was being shuffled deeper into the lab. Tony brought out a single mechanized glove and drew it on, testing the fit. Then he held out his hand.
“Grab on,” he ordered. And though James was confused, he took hold.
Tony brought up a holographic screen, making a few notes. He had James squeeze and flex and go through all manner of experiments. Then he had him do a few exercises, lift things… James wasn’t sure what the point was because his razor was the problem!
“Well,” Tony said at last when he let James stop. “This is interesting.”
“What? Did you figure it out?” James muttered a bit moodily because Tony was being cagey with the details and James hated that.
Tony glanced at him down his nose, a brow lifted at his impatience. “Turns out whatever the super soldier serum did to your dad changed him all the way down to passable DNA.”
It took James a few moments to understand what that meant. And then he stared wide eyed and looked at his hands.
“What?”
“Congratulations on a bona fide super power. I never really counted catlike bitchiness.” Tony clapped his shoulder. “Come back later today, after the morning tasks, and we’ll work on it. Try not to break anything in the interim.”
James went back out to the city in a daze. He wasn’t sure at all what to think about this. Actually, James had come to terms with the fact that he didn’t have powers. He was a little stronger, a little faster, but most of that had been training. The team didn’t seem to care what he could do as long as he could lead them.
Having powers… Well. That certainly redefined who he was, didn’t it? Despite carrying a duplicate of his father’s shield, James had always seen himself as more like his mother. The agility, grace, even his personality seemed far more like her. He didn’t know how to feel about this.
“Hey, James!”
A flit of light zipped around his head and finally hovered in front of his face, jolting James from his thoughts. He frowned at Pym despite the boy’s excitement.
“What is it?”
“You’re late; we gotta go!” Pym chirped out. “The others are already waiting.”
Training. Damn. He’d forgotten all about it. James started to head after Pym’s zipping form, but then stopped. What if he hurt one of them? He’d mutilated his razor without even feeling the difference. He could seriously hurt them if he sparred now. James’s chest went tight at the very thought.
“I- uh. You go ahead. I’ll catch up.”
Pym hovered, staring at him. He jolted to full side as he flew close. “Wait, what? Are you sick or something?”
“Something like that.” James smiled weakly, waving him off. “Just go on. I’ve got some stuff to take care of.”
For a little while, it didn’t seem like Pym would, but then he nodded, reluctantly trusting James’ words. A moment later, he was gone. James let out a soft sigh. Then he grew more grim. He had to figure out how strong he was and how to control it. Otherwise, no one in New City was safe.
Grimly resolved, James headed out towards the cliffs surrounding the city. He ignored the usual turn off to their makeshift arena and found another spot devoid of family. James glanced at his hands, wondering just what he could do now. Stepping up to one of the larger rocks, he drew back his arm. It took him a few moments of fretting before he let loose a light punch.
The rock busted under his fist, lines of breaking splitting out a few inches from where his fist hit. Bits of rock toppled off to shuttle across the ground. James drew back his hand, frowning at the fact that that hadn’t even hurt. He eyed the mark.
“This is going to take some getting used to,” he muttered bitterly to himself.
Not that super strength wasn’t cool and wouldn’t be useful, but James hadn’t needed it before and he didn’t need it now and this was a total pain in the ass. He would have liked nothing better than to forget all about this and go back to sleep until life made sense again.
James spent the next hours beating the ever living crap out of any rock perceived to have looked at him funny, trying to gauge just how strong he was. What annoyed him further was that the work hadn’t really fazed him. His hands didn’t hurt, he wasn’t bruised, and though there was a faint, pleasant burn to his muscles, he was still full of energy. Which was just not right, damn it.
He gave his fists a glare and then grabbed up a dirt clot to throw at something but it crumbled the moment he touched it. Frustrated, James caught a rock next and then threw it as hard as he could. It shot off like a bullet before imbedding in a rock face across the canyon.
“Well that wasn’t dramatic at all.” James stiffened, twisting around, but Hawkeye just lifted a brow and waved from his seat along one of the higher ridges. “Don’t stop on my account! Heaven knows I like seeing someone else do the heavy lifting.”
“Shouldn’t you be at training?” James grumbled.
“Shouldn’t you?” Hawkeye slipped off the ridge and dropped down to the ground nearly soundlessly. “Well, if it was still going on, that is. Seen the sun lately?”
James glanced up. It took a moment, but he managed to calculate an approximate time and grimaced. Much later than he thought. Hawkeye walked casually around him, glancing at this bit of rubble or another. He whistled low.
“Somebody’s unhappy,” he muttered and then gave James a baleful look. “What, did that girl in the soap shop turn you down finally?”
A flush lit James’ cheeks before he could stop it. It wasn’t his fault she was cute! And besides, he did not like her anyway. “What do you want?”
“Well, I was going to come down out of the goodness of my heart and make sure my beloved teammate hadn’t brained himself on some rocks, but sure, rebuke me. Whatever.” Hawkeye folded his arms over his chest, rolling his eyes. “Tony explained. You’re not going to figure this out just punching a few rocks, Hotshot.”
James’s mouth twisted. “Sorry. I’m fine. You can go.”
“Oh, I really can’t.” Hawkeye smirked. “See, I volunteered to train with you.”
Abruptly, the annoyance fled and what was left in the pit of James’ stomach was a dread he hadn’t felt since Ultron.
“No.”
“Not negotiable, kiddo. I’m-”
“No.”
Hawkeye paused and then looked at James closely. Clarity flickered in his gaze. “You seriously think you could hurt me.”
James glared at him. For a little while, Hawkeye just glanced over him and thought to himself. Every second wound James tighter up. By the time Hawkeye decided to do something, James wanted to throttle him just for the sake of it.
“Come at me,” Hawkeye said finally, spreading his hands.
“Are you nuts? No! I already told you-”
“And I told you that I was going to train with you. Now come on.” Hawkeye smirked. “I know I’m not as luscious as Soap Girl but if you ask nice, I might let you put your hands on me.”
James flushed hard. He rubbed a hand down his face, trying to figure out someway to handle Hawkeye being Hawkeye because it was a little much right now. As in a lot too much.
Hawkeye reached over and grabbed James’ shoulder. “Hey, stay with me here. It’s going to be fine.”
Scowling, James pointed to one of the rocks he’d decimated. “I wasn’t trying to shatter that.”
Hawkeye’s brows rose but he still didn’t show any kind of healthy – sane – fear. “Well try not to do that again and we’re square.”
James was sorely tempted just to make a point. Instead, he stayed stone faced as Hawkeye grabbed his hands and tugged him closer. And then James just blinked. One hand had been moved to rest on Hawkeye’s shoulder blade, the other curled in one of Hawkeye’s own. Hawkeye’s other hand rested lightly on James’ shoulder.
“What-”
“We’re going to have to imagine the music, but-”
“What-”
“Unless you want me to sing? Which is kind of a terrible idea.”
James glared at him even as his cheeks burned with color, but Hawkeye just smirked wider.
“I don’t usually let people lead,” he said thoughtfully, “but I’ll make an exception for you. Let’s dance.”
“How the hell is this supposed to help me?!” James snarled, but he kept himself very still, the fear of accidently injuring Hawkeye rearing up fiercely.
Hawkeye rolled his eyes. “James, buddy, calm down. Look. You need to learn control, right? This is how you do it. You have to control yourself or I’ll get hurt. You have to control your strength, the pressure of your fingers, and get those fine motor skills back under wraps. Take it slow, big guy. Dance with me.”
This had to be the most ridiculous thing James had ever done, including the time they all camped outside the house once and decided to try counting a whole colony of ants without realizing they were fire ants.
“What’s the matter?” Hawkeye murmured, a challenge clear in his eyes. “Chicken?”
James glared. He couldn’t back down now. Not and still stay leader of their group. Hawkeye would never respect him if he didn’t man up. So, with as much delicacy as he could manage, James got them going. They were awkward at first, moving about without any kind of rhythm or know how. Apparently, Hawkeye didn’t know how to follow, which only made things worse, but by the time they managed to figure that out, they were both laughing so much that James had forgotten what he was so afraid of.
They took turns doing dramatic dips and twists, playing up for their invisible audience as Hawkeye sang some old tune completely off-key. They made up a few foot movements and argued over the correct sequence and how far they were supposed to step back in the tango (which they assumed they were doing, but that was wrong).
The sun was dipping low when they took a break. Leaning against one of the rock walls, James blinked towards the horizon and then turned back to his impromptu dancing partner. Hawkeye’s cheeks were flushed from exertion and his eyes bright in the half light.
“Guess we better head back. You must be starving,” he murmured.
James nodded but felt an odd hesitance to do so. He was finding it hard to look away from Hawkeye’s face, so full of life and a pleasant cheer. And the way the light was hitting pale hair… When Hawkeye glanced to him during the pause, James straightened and found his cheeks burning.
“Right,” he muttered, glancing off. “I guess… I guess I’m safe for the city, now.”
Hawkeye snorted and slapped James’ shoulder as he drew away from the wall. “You were safe anyway.”
The way that Hawkeye was completely sure of it, so sure that he’d risked himself to make it clear to James, was just… James’ stomach tightened uncomfortably. He was glad for that guileless trust. That was all. He just…
They headed back to New City and James tried very hard not to think about how nice Hawkeye’s hand felt in his.