Training had not gone as expected and Kit proved that she, indeed, was not a fighter. At least, not yet. However, something in the training had caught the attention of all those newly involved in her life. They needed to get answers, but it wasn't going to be as easy as simply asking questions. Especially since Kit refused to give any sort of answer that left her open. The only option that would give them quick results was getting a blood sample.

Given the task of escorting Kit to the lab where she would get her bloodwork, Tony noticed that Kit was abnormally quiet. As he stole a glance in her direction, it seemed she had paled drastically.

"Any particular reason as to why you're making that face?" he asked her. Immediately, Kit straightened her posture and looked back at him.

"Why are you making that face?" she countered.

"I'm not making a face-"

"That's right, that's how you always look, isn't it?"

"You mean this handsome?" Tony said. "Yes."

It was enough to earn a small smile from her, but Kit needed to have the last word. "If that's what you want to call yourself, so be it," she told him, patting his shoulder, " whatever helps you sleep at night, champ."

"You know, I liked you better when you were Carol."

"Of course you did, she laughed at all your corny ass jokes."

He looked incredibly offended as he sighed. "They were not...you know what, nevermind. I liked Carol because she was nicer."

"It's not as if you've rolled out the welcome mat for me since I've arrived," she said, " so, I don't exactly see the point in killing you with kindness."

"Roll out the welcome mat? You stole my watch!"

Kit came to a sudden stop and glared at him. "Ugh! I swear to God! If you bring up that damn watch one more time, I'm going to march all the way to Colorado Springs, get the watch, march back here, and beat you with it. Is that what you want?"

Tony folded his arms. "That seems a bit excessive, don't you think?"

"That's rich coming from the king of excessive! Have you seen where you live? Your coffee maker is smarter than the average middle schooler. It can make conversation and a cappuccino at the same time!"

Suddenly, Tony looked all too proud of himself as his chest puffed out with pride. "Yes, one of my latest works. Makes one of the best cups."

"Congrats," she said flatly, " I'll be sure to give you a golden star sticker later on."

Feeling his chest deflate slightly, Tony rolled his eyes. Usually, the others allowed him the last word, even if it was to get him to be quiet.

"You know," he called after her, " there can only be one sassy Avenger in this group!"

"Okay, so when are you leaving?"

From all the commotion in the corridor, Bruce couldn't resist sticking his head out to investigate what was going on. However, as soon as he opened the door, he was nearly mowed over by Kit attempting to enter. Dodging off to the side, he let out a sigh knowing that things were probably not going to run as smoothly.

"I could hear the two of you coming," he told the two. Kit turned to him, folding her arms over her chest before glaring in Tony's direction.

"Blame him."

In an instant, Tony's jaw dropped, fully prepared to argue but Bruce didn't have time to deal with the equivalence of "sibling bickering" as he directed Kit to take a seat. He gave a warning look to Tony to simply let it go so he could get started.

"Alright, Kit, we're just going to take a simple blood sample," Bruce said, crossing over to where the sterile needle was waiting.

Kit made no attempt to move closer. "With...with a needle?"

"How else do you expect him to take it from you, princess?" Tony asked her. "With a magic wand?"

She said nothing else as she took a seat. Bruce walked over, taking an elasticated tourniquet and placing it over her arm. There was a visible shiver that ran through her body as she closed her eyes.

"Now, I'm not exactly a phlebotomist," he said, swabbing some alcohol on her skin, " but-"

The coolness on her skin caused Kit to jerk back her arm, pressing it against her chest as she attempted to keep it away from Bruce. For a moment, Tony looked amused until Bruce nudged him with his elbow. Concern was washed over his face before he placed the cotton swab down and cleared his throat.

"Kit, are you alright?" He questioned. "Are you perhaps afraid of needles?"

"I've never found myself particularly fond of them," she said.

"Have you had some bad experiences with getting shots before?"

Rubbing her hands against her jeans, Kit looked to the floor with a shameful expression. " I can't say I ever remember getting a shot in my life."

Bruce's eyes widened. "Even as a child?"

"Maybe as a baby," she shrugged, " but I don't think my parents could be bothered to waste their time and money to get me shots or anything of that sort. I wasn't important enough for that. But it's not important, I just don't like them, who does? I'm fine, we can proceed."

Although he looked hesitant, Bruce went to gather the syringe but as soon as he removed the needle from the wrapping, Kit's hand covered her mouth. It suddenly sounded like she was close to vomiting as her body jerked violently. Tony quickly stepped back and placed Bruce between him and any sort of chance of being vomited on.

Leaving the chair, Kit started backing away from the two, making her way towards the door. She placed her hands out and continued to shake her head.

"No, no needles."

"Kit, I'm not going to hurt you, just sit down and relax-"

"No! No!"

Turning on her heel, Kit opened the door and ran out as fast as she could, leaving Tony and Bruce to stand quietly for a few moments, wondering what the hell had just happened.

"I'll admit, it was odd," Bruce said addressing the rest of the group later on, including Fury. "She panicked when she saw the needle. She was nervous to begin with but it escalated so quickly. You would have thought I had a gun pointed at her, the fear in her eyes. And the voice, Tony heard it. It sounded like a child was talking to us. Her voice was small and she crouched down, making herself smile.

"Sounds like trauma," Natasha interjected, bringing everyone to look at her. "That goes beyond a phobia."

"Well, whatever it is," Fury said, " we didn't get the blood sample. If she can't handle it being fully alert, then we sedate her. Either way, it needs to be done."

"And how do we go about sedating her?" Natasha asked. "Are you going to drug her food or drink when she's not looking? That's not exactly going to build trust now, is it?"

"Oh, does Natasha suddenly want to play nice?" Tony questioned, only to receive a cold glare. Natasha turned her attention back to everyone else.

"Maybe we should talk to her. Tricking her into sedation isn't right, we need her consent."

"Well, I'm so glad you volunteered, " Fury said to her. "Good for you."

Natasha looked ready to protest but decided against it as she took the challenge upon herself and left.

Kit couldn't bring herself to do much after running out of the lab, only able to sit in front of an open window to get some fresh air. Her stomach was finally settling from all the somersaults and the feeling of nausea was fading. However, the feeling of shame had yet to dwindle as it weighed her down.

A tiny needle. That was all it took to render her to a puddle of emotions. She didn't understand the sudden immense fear when spotted the needle in hand, but it was enough to make her almost sick. Kit had faced plenty of dangers before, even stared down the barrel of a gun at one point when she was younger, but the needle felt like it was something worse.

As she tried to go through her memories to figure out anything, there was a knock on the door. The last person she expected to see was Natasha and she figured the assassin was finally there to put an end to her.

"We need to talk," Natasha started, getting straight to the point, " about your needle incident."

"What exactly do we need to talk about, Red?" Kit asked her. "I don't like them, end of the story. Sorry, it's not exactly a best seller."

Natasha pursed her lips and refrained from rolling her eyes. "A lot of people have fears but from what Banner said, your fear sounds like it might be a bit more advanced than that. Maybe you don't remember history with needles personally, but maybe you associate the needles with something else? Something in your past?"

Kit sighed. "Look, Dr Phil, I appreciate you trying to get to the source but it's not like that. My parents had a history with drugs, but they didn't mess with needles. I remember my mother saying she didn't want to risk anything with dirty needles. Other than that, my history with needles goes as far as my parents probably being anti-vaxxers without trying."

"Maybe during your time on the streets-"

"Once again, it wasn't like that, " Kit said, " I didn't hang around crack dens or anything of the sort. Maybe I didn't have parents but I had people that looked after me and made sure I didn't get mixed up in that stuff. I know of it, but I wasn't exposed to it. Can we not talk about this right now?"

There was another knock at the door, revealing Clint standing there looking back and forth between the two.

"Uh, sorry to interrupt, but dinner is ready if you guys are interested?" he said. " Good ol' fashion spaghetti!"

The wave of his hands lacked the excitement in his voice but it was enough to get Kit's interest.

"I'm in," she told him, " there will be meatballs, right?"

"Uh, I'll have to double-check on that but-"

"What?! That's the best part!"

Kit went to leave the room after Clint but before she could, Natasha grabbed her arm lightly, holding her in place. "Listen, you might not want to talk about it, but Fury wants a blood sample from you. That means by any means necessary. It might come down to sedating you to get it without you being ready, so I'm here to give you the choice. If needles bother you that much for whatever reason, do you still want to be apart of this?"

"It sounds like you're warning me," Kit said, " isn't Fury your boss?"

"Yes,  but consent is important to me."