The debris from the robot littered the city street as emergency response teams worked quickly to contain the damage. The Avengers had secured the area, but the tension in the air was palpable. The roar of the Quinjet engines had barely settled before Jordan found himself in the hot seat, standing in front of the team.
Cap had his arms folded, his face stern. Tony was pacing back and forth, muttering something about "uncontrolled variables" and "never listening to me." Natasha stood with her arms crossed, watching Jordan with a cool, calculating gaze, while Sam leaned against a nearby building, arms loosely folded but clearly disappointed.
Jordan was standing there in his borrowed suit, his heart still pounding from the adrenaline of the fight. Despite his success in taking down the rogue bot, he knew the team wasn't going to be impressed. They didn't want a wild card; they wanted someone they could control. Someone who followed orders.
Cap was the first to speak. "I told you to stay back."
"I know," Jordan said, his voice tight with frustration. "But I wasn't going to sit there and let you handle it alone. I—"
"You *don't* make that decision!" Tony cut him off, stopping in his tracks. His tone was harsh, but there was a hint of concern behind the words. "We work as a team, not as individuals."
Jordan clenched his fists, trying to hold his ground. "I wasn't trying to be a hero. I just wanted to help."
"You don't get to *decide* when to help," Natasha spoke up, her voice like ice. "What if you hadn't been able to handle the robot? What if your power got out of control and put everyone in danger? You're not invincible."
Jordan flinched at her words. He knew they were right. His powers were still so new, so volatile. He couldn't afford to act like he had it all figured out. But in the moment, when the bot was causing destruction, he hadn't thought of the risks—he'd just reacted.
Cap's eyes softened slightly as he saw the conflict in Jordan's expression. "You're right to want to help. But there's a reason we have training protocols. It's not just about fighting—it's about knowing when to act and when to wait."
Jordan bit his lip, his anger bubbling under the surface. "I *did* act. I stopped the bot."
"And we appreciate that," Cap said, giving a small nod. "But what if next time, there's no bot? What if you have to fight someone else, someone with a mind of their own? Your power isn't just something you can point and shoot. It's dangerous."
"Dangerous," Jordan repeated, the word echoing in his mind. *Was that how they saw him?*
Tony sighed, running a hand through his hair. "You've got potential, kid. But this isn't a game. We've all had to learn how to balance power with responsibility. And you're not going to get there by jumping headfirst into danger."
---
**The Training Begins Again**
The rest of the team left for their debriefing, leaving Jordan to stew in the silence of the ruined street. He wasn't angry with them anymore, but he was frustrated with himself. He had wanted to prove that he could be a part of this team, that he wasn't just some out-of-control kid with superpowers. But every time he made progress, it felt like the goalpost moved further away.
Later that day, after the cleanup, Cap called Jordan into the gym for more training. He had his game face on, and this time, it wasn't to test his strength or speed. It was to work on something more fundamental: control.
Jordan walked into the gym, his steps slower than usual. He knew this was important—maybe even more important than any of the other tests. If he couldn't control his power, everything else would fall apart.
Cap stood in the middle of the training area, hands on his hips, waiting. "We're going to focus on your heat vision first. You're not going to be blasting anything today. I want you to learn to feel the power before you use it."
Jordan nodded, taking his place on the opposite side of the room. "Okay, so no lasers this time. What do I do?"
Cap raised an eyebrow. "You've got a lot of power inside you, but you need to learn to harness it. I want you to focus on your breathing first. Don't think about anything else. Just breathe and focus on what's inside."
Jordan closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. He could feel the familiar warmth in his chest, the energy building inside him like a coil winding tighter. He focused on it, not trying to force it out, but just feeling its presence. It was a strange sensation—almost like it was its own entity, waiting to be unleashed.
Cap's voice was calm, guiding him. "Good. Now, focus on controlling the flow. You don't need to release it all at once. Just try to hold it."
Jordan concentrated harder, his hands slightly trembling as the power swirled within him. He felt a warmth spreading from his chest, radiating outward. It was the most controlled he'd felt his abilities since that first blast in the compound.
"Now, bring it back in," Cap instructed. "Can you feel the energy retracting?"
Jordan nodded, feeling the power receding slightly, like a tide pulling back. It wasn't easy, and it wasn't perfect, but it was a start.
After what felt like hours—though it had only been a few minutes—Jordan opened his eyes, sweat beading on his forehead. He was exhausted, mentally and physically.
Cap nodded approvingly. "Good. You're starting to understand the power you're dealing with. But this is just the beginning."
---
**The Next Challenge**
The next day, Cap gave Jordan a new task. They were going to spar, not with weapons, but with their fists. Jordan had trained in hand-to-hand combat before—he had to, considering his powers—but now, with Cap guiding him, it was different. He wasn't just training to fight—he was training to control himself under pressure.
The first few rounds were rough. Cap was fast, calculating, and precise. Jordan found himself on the defensive, struggling to keep up. His punches were wild, unrefined. Whenever he felt himself getting too worked up, his energy would flare up, and he'd have to focus hard to hold it in.
"You're reacting, not thinking," Cap pointed out between rounds. "When you fight, you need to think first. React later."
Jordan nodded, sweat dripping down his face. He could feel the frustration rising again, the urge to just let loose and blast Cap to the other side of the gym. But he kept pushing it down. He needed to learn, to grow, to control.
By the end of the session, Jordan was panting, his muscles aching. But something had changed. His movements were smoother, more fluid. His mind was clearer. He wasn't relying on his power to win; he was learning to use it when needed.
---
**A Team with Purpose**
That night, Jordan found himself sitting in the lounge, a rare quiet moment after the chaos of the day. He could hear the hum of the compound's central systems in the background, but it was mostly silent. Sam and Natasha were playing chess at the table, Tony was tinkering with a new gadget, and Cap was reviewing mission reports on his tablet.
Jordan looked down at his hands, still feeling the residual energy from the training session. He was still far from perfect, but for the first time, he felt like he was getting closer to understanding his place in this world. He wasn't just a kid with powers—he was becoming a part of something greater.
And maybe, just maybe, he was beginning to understand what it meant to be a hero.
---
*