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Natasha’s training in the Red Room had been harsh. If you made a mistake, you paid for it. If you weren’t good enough, you were out of the project.
She learnt to stay aware of her surroundings all the time; she never knew when another girl or a trainer would get a mission to maim her. Only constant vigilance kept her alive and (mostly) unharmed during that trial-of-fire childhood.
When Steve made it his task to lead Avengers’ training, both solo and group, she secretly scoffed at the idea. Steve was a softie, a poster boy. What did he know about training superheroes?
---
They’re all on top of the Tower, having a casual team barbeque. Steve is going on about what all he has planned for them; obstacle courses, getting everyone the basics for a range of vehicles and weapons, spars in various environments against each others and Tony’s bots (Steve has scouted out few locations already nearby, including a landfill, a stone quarry and an old outlet mall drafted for demolition).
Steve flips the burger beefs and continues on seriously, as if he was in his uniform in the meeting room and not wearing a goofy apron on Clint’s dare while on casual team evening. “We need to train a lot of the skills; not only the raw skill and aim with our weapons and abilities, but also tracking enemies during the fights, making coordinated attacks and defends, and knowing how to use our environment to our advance.”
Everyone is relaxed while checking their schedules for the first group training session. Natasha yawns.
“But of course, no matter how much we practice on schedule, we will need to learn constant vigilance and manage to get our reaction times down to the minimum,” Steve continues and takes the last burger beef from the grill and puts it onto the table next to him.
Natasha has a brief millisecond to frown and think, “Constant vigilance?”, before Steve kicks the grill so hard that the coals rain on top of the flammable carpet feets away.
“What the hell-!?”
“STEVE!?”
Steve is already sprinting towards the ledge. “First training session started! Wanda, Sam, Tony - someone CATCH ME!”
Then he jumps off the Tower.
---
“He could have died,” Wanda whispers, her face pale. Her hands are still shaking. “What if none of us reacted in time?”
Natasha hugs her. She knows it’s not a time to say it aloud, but goddammit, she underestimated Steve Rogers. That man is savage.
---
Sam confronts Steve after his second jump off the Tower. “Steve, don’t you think you’re taking this little too far?”
“Nope,” Steve replies calmly.
“Wanda is on her way to develop PTSD,” Sam says firmly and with Judgement for Steve. “She’s been having nightmares about failing to catch you. How will this help anyone?”
“Sooner or later, our lives will anyway be in her hands on the battlefield again,” Steve answers, still frustratingly calm. “It’s going to be ten times more stressful than what I’m doing. It’s better that she learns to cope with the stress in a safe environment first.”
“What if something goes wrong? What if you get hurt or, fucking hell man, die for nothing?”
“First of all, I’m supersoldier. I can survive a lot. Second of all, I’ll rather overestimate you guys and get hurt before we’re in a fight,” Steve says with a cheerful smile. “But seriously, Sam? I trust you all -- that first time was a bit of a close call, but you and Wanda really impressed me on how fast you reacted this time.”
---
Bruce hulks out once, and that’s enough for Steve to apologize and promise to not pull his stunts with him nearby.
Bruce almost hulks out second time, when the team keeps flocking around him in his lab, in hopes that hanging around him will save them from Steve’s training.
After that the team gives him his space back, even when it means having to endure the constant vigilance training.
---
Week later, after Steve has jumped off the building four times (“Wow guys, you’re getting so good at saving my ass! This was record time!”) and held himself a hostage two times with a gun aimed at his own limbs (“C’mon, guys - you don’t want me to shoot myself, right? So get inventive! How are you going to disarm me? No Sam, back off, don’t come closer, everyone stay ten feet away or I will shoot my leg--”) , Sam announces that he’s going to hold biweekly post-training group therapy sessions for Avengers, starting now.
After some heated negotiations (“Dude, chill -- we won’t become soft if we have 2 hours of uninterrupted recovery time per week!”), Steve relents and promises to not randomly interrupt the group therapy sessions with more of his traumatic shenanigans in the name of the ‘high stress, high intensity, high reward’ training.
---
Two weeks after Avengers’ new training regime started, Steve comes to a meeting with a stuffed animal under his arm. It’s a white, fluffy little kitten with cutesy, huge sparkling eyes. It’s clearly not fresh from the factory; it’s lumpy and one of its ears is patched.
“You monster,” Natasha comments drily the moment she sees the toy.
Steve winks at her, and then looks cheerfully at everyone. “This little one here is Damsel. Team, say hi to Damsel.”
“Hi Damsel,” Thor, who is on the visit from Asgard, says dutifully, while everyone else rolls their eyes.
Sam’s eyes are narrowed and flicker between Steve and Natasha. “What is he up to, Nat?”
“I found and rescued Damsel from that landfill we trained on last week,” Steve continues, ignoring Sam. “When I saw her there, abandoned and all alone, getting pecked by the sea gulls, I decided to take her home. I washed and patched her, and thought how she would make a perfect mascot for us. She can represent the vulnerable and innocent in the world, everything precious and beautiful that we are working on to protect.”
There are a lot of silent, judgemental, “Has he gone mad?” looks shared between the rest of the team.
Except from Thor, who nods gravely, and says: “It shall be beneficial for us all to have her as our mascot and as a reminder of why we fight.”
“I vote no,” Clint says firmly. “We have two birdies in the team, as well as a bald-headed eagle in human form, but zero cats. I vote that if we have to have a mascot, it’ll be a bird.”
Sam nods sharply in agreement. “An owl. Those are both cute and badass. Perfect mascots.”
Steve smiles serenely and shrugs. “There’s no limit on how many mascots we can have. I’ll get us an owl as well.”
---
Steve is a man of his word, and in next meeting there’s not only an owl, but also a puppy and a seal.
Within a week, the Mascot Quartet has become a thing. Clint and Sam fight over who is Owling’s favourite, and the mascots are part of every meeting and casual hangout.
If Natasha didn’t agree with Steve’s training methods, she would warn everyone.
But she does know the importance of harsh training, so she steels herself and makes an effort to bond with Damsel, holding it and petting its soft fake fur during the movie nights.
---
Steve is put under heavy restraints for their next team barbeque on top of the Tower; his legs are literally chained to his chair.
He doesn’t seem unfazed by it or the glares.
“Aw guys.” Steve leans back in his chair (made of steel and bolted to the floor) and pets Owling in his lap. “You’re learning how to take pre-emptive measures. I’m proud of you all.”
Clint blinks. “Wait, are you saying that all this time we could have just locked you..?”
Sam sighs and puts the goofy apron of the grillmaster on. “Let’s just have this barbeque, guys. And you, dude--” Sam points his finger at Steve with a glare “--you sit there and take care of Owling. No funny business.”
"Of course not, Sam," Steve says and throws Owling over the ledge.
---
“Clint, I don’t know whether to be impressed or offended. You never jumped after me. Honestly, I had forgotten about your suction cup arrows and how awesome they are.”
“You’re not Owling,” Clint says darkly.
“True,” Steve agrees readily and then stretches his hand. “Can I have him back?”
“NO,” Clint and Sam yell in union.
Steve laughs so hard his whole body is shaking.
---
Even though Owling had not been her favorite, seeing him fly over the ledge and the panic on birdboys’ faces was enough to remind Natasha how hard it had been when Red Room had gone through their “don’t get attached to anything” training period with pets.
Steve had hid the three other toys before his stunt with Owling. Natasha knows this is part of a training, and that it’s important, but… she’s getting anxious. Part of her keeps remembering how she failed to save her kitten from trainers, and even though she knows that Damsel is not a real kitten… Well. She knows she has projected her past love for her dead kitten onto the toy, and has become emotionally compromised over it. And goddamn Steve is hiding and holding onto that toy, just so one day he can bring it out for a next lesson of having constant vigilance.
She’s going for late night snack in the common floor (definitely not to stress eat), but stops when she hears Sam’s voice from the kitchen.
“--so, every third Monday, Wednesday, Thursday, you’ll be in charge of taking care of him; every second Friday, Saturday, Sunday will be also yours--”
Clint’s voice, gravely serious, interrupts Sam: “No, no, this is still too predictable pattern -- we need to create a pattern that Cap can’t predict--”
Natasha eavesdrops for a while on their protection/bodyguard plans over Owling. She’s kind of impressed about their plans; especially how they plan to play to their advances and have Owling strapped to Sam’s Redwing II at all times (“Quick escape, and Owling will be able to fly!”) and have Clint hiding him inside the vents.
Natasha mulls over it. Playing to their advances and taking pre-emptive measures… The guys are being smart about it.
As much as she approves of Steve’s training methods, she has hit her limit; she really doesn’t want to go through her pet losing trauma again.
It’s time for a rescue mission... Black Widow style.
---
Steve jerks awake when someone kicks his bed. He tries to roll out of it, but can’t -- he’s restrained to the bed.
For a joyful moment he thinks that maybe Bucky has finally come to pay him a visit, but then he spots Natasha in the doorway, leaning against the doorframe casually and flipping a knife in her hand. She has her Widow suit on and, oddly enough, a black, elegant handbag in crook of her elbow.
“Sorry to disappoint you, Rogers,” Natasha says coldly. “I know I’m not your favorite assassin.”
Steve frowns. “Nat, what’s going on?”
“I’m here for Damsel,” Natasha says and throws the knife at the headboard of the bed, five inches from Steve’s head.
Steve stares at the knife that vibrates for a moment from the force of the throw.
He looks back to Natasha, who’s looking at him flatly, every inch of her a deadly assassin on a mission. (It’s doing things to Steve that he’s not proud of. He might have developed an assassin kink during the recent events.)
Steve grins. “And how do you plan to get me to release her? I didn’t think that you’d be ready to put me through Black Widow interrogation, but wow, this is going to be excellent practice for me. I’m looking forward to see how long I can withstand--”
“I’m not going to hurt you to get my hands on a stuffed animal,” Natasha says with an eye roll. “You’re an asshole, but you’re still my friend, geez.”
“Well, then I guess we’re in a Mexican standoff. I will never release Damsel. Mwahaha!”
Natasha grimaces. “Steve, never again do an evil villain laugh. It doesn’t suit you.”
Steve cackles, way too amused by the situation. “You can’t stop me, Black Widow! Mwahaha!”
Natasha narrows her eyes. “Can’t I?”
“If you aren’t willing to hurt me, then--” Steve starts and then abruptly shuts his mouth when Natasha pulls bunch of old letters out of her handbag.
He recognizes those letters. They are Bucky’s letters to him from his Basic.
Natasha doesn’t say anything, just calmly pulls out a lighter next.
“DON’T!”
Natasha smiles at him sweetly. “Ready to release Damsel, Captain?”
---
Clint eyes her and Damsel in her lap suspiciously the next day. “How did you do it?”
“What?” Natasha asks innocently.
“How did you rescue Damsel? How are you so sure Steve is not going to steal her from you again?”
Natasha shrugs and smiles smugly. “I gave him a lesson in turn.”
Clint looks at her warily. “And what that lesson was?”
“Don’t get on my bad side.”
---
After a long and exhausting guerrilla war, the last two members of Mascot Quarter get finally rescued from Captain America.
By then, dealing with Steve’s random acts of sacrificial training has become just part of life for everyone. Even Clint has been forced to put his suction cup arrows in test few times and jump after Steve when nobody else has been around (the first time he did drop Steve at two meters above the ground, just to show his displeasure).
It’s been awhile since Steve has got even over the ledge; the team has become subconsciously aware of him and his intentions all the time, and it only takes for that mischievous glint to appear in his eyes for them to stop him.
When Steve jumps off an enemy jet in fire above a malfunctioning power plant sparkling with electricity charge, and rescuing him comes as a second nature for the team (Wanda halts him in the air and then throws him towards Sam who catches him), and Sam’s heartbeat doesn’t even rise from it nor anyone’s concentration from the mission falters (Wanda moves on immediately back to her task of interfering with the rest of the enemy jets) -- well, Steve gets pretty smug about their successful training afterwards. He gets bombarded with popcorn kernels while trying to give them a congratulations speech.
---
The true show of the team’s ingrained cooperation and fast reactions comes when Steve comes to a meeting with a cat carrier.
Steve gets out only “Team, say hi to Damsel II! She’s--” before everyone is on the move.
Natasha is the fastest; in a blink of an eye she’s there, kicking Steve’s wrist sharply to make him release his hold.
Still, she wouldn’t have been able to get carrier from Steve if not for the rest of the team being there; Clint lassoing Steve, Tony blasting Steve with low charge, Wanda freezing him.
A startled meow comes from inside the carrier that makes Natasha’s heart beat insanely.
She turns towards the door, but the escape route is blocked; two sparring bots are rolling inside and aiming their tranq guns at her.
She dodges the darts and yells: “FRIDAY, open the window!”
Two seconds later Sam is carrying her out of the room and up towards the sky and safety, the cat carrier securely in her arms, while the rest of the team is busy destroying the sparring bots and keeping Captain America from chasing after Sam and Natasha.
---
“No. More. Kittens,” Natasha hisses at Steve and burns one corner of a letter in front of Steve. “Never again, Steve, or you’ll regret it.”
---
Pepper gives them all a very disappointed look. “I have been up all night.”
Steve looks sheepish for the first time regarding his training sessions. “I’m sorry, Pepper. It didn’t cross my mind that someone might get footage of our training from the building across the street.”
“PETA is protesting for Avengers’ shutdown after they spotted the cat carrier. People are afraid that we’re hiding your mental breakdown or that some villain got you under mind control. There’s even speculation of a civil war brewing amongst the team.”
“Not too far fetched speculation,” Sam mutters and glares at Steve, while petting Damsel II.
---
Everyone is relieved when Winter Soldier, the fist of the HYDRA, the ghost story of the last century, the most feared assassin of all times, joins the team.
Barnes looks like a deer caught in headlights when Clint and Wanda hug him tightly. He looks for others for explanation while awkwardly patting Wanda's head.
“Steve has traumatized everyone, and everyone is grateful for you to arrive and to put a stop on it,” Sam translates the bizarre behavior.
Barnes looks even more confused. “Huh?”
“He’s been savage while training us, throwing himself randomly off the buildings to teach us constant vigilance, but everyone knows he has a soft spot for you and that after all you’ve gone through, he will never put any more stress on you--” Sam pauses and narrows his eyes at Barnes’ delighted expression.
“The punk finally learned?” Barnes asks and Sam has suddenly a very bad feeling about this.
“Bucky!” Steve exclaims when he rushes into the room. “I’m sorry I’m late--”
Barnes smiles at him, beaming and proud: “Oh no, you aren't late. Wilson was just going to tell me about how you've been training the team.”
Steve’s face closes off. “Uuh... I don’t know anything about any training.”
“Aw, you used to complain so hard about Bucky Bear,” Barnes says. “I still remember the first time I stabbed him. God, your face.”
“Bucky Bear?” Clint asks and slowly lets go off Barnes and steps away.
Steve closes his eyes and with pained expression says: “It was… a teddy bear. Howlies’ second sergeant.”
“You stabbed a Bucky Bear in front of Steve?” Sam whispers horrified.
Barnes shrugs. “The punk jumped from USO tour straight to front lines. Supersoldier or not, he had no fucking experience beside his Basic training months ago, and I wasn’t going to let him die on my watch because of that.” Barnes smiles self-satisfiedly. “Few weeks of high intense Sergeant Barnes training, and fuck you were good, Stevie.”
Steve blushes, but mutters darkly about how “shooting Bucky Bear in the head” had not been necessary.
“I wanna hear more,” Barnes says and sits down at the table. “You haven’t gone too soft on your team, have you? Remember, it’s called tough love for a reason. Remember that time when I borrowed a dynamite from Dernier and--”
Sam has a very, very bad feeling about this. Judging from everyone's faces, the rest of the team is also coming to the terrifying conclusion that their training is not going to ease up any time soon.