"I'm sure you wouldn't want me slowing you down," she says quickly. Steve likely means it as a genuine offer, but with her mind in the place it is, it's hard not to be suspicious. If they train together, he'll be able to keep an eye on her, see how she's not taking care of herself properly, notice the fatigue she always carries that much more. "Besides, I don't think my hand-to-hand skills are nearly good enough to handle someone with your strength."

Dodge, weave, redirect. Fighting her way out of a situation is so natural she does it without thinking these days.

She pops a bit of danish into her mouth to keep herself from speaking for a minute. If she speaks too quickly, she's certain she'll cry and spill everything she's thinking and feeling, and that is the last thing she wants right now. Her eyes flick up to him for a moment, see the disappointment in his face, and then it's right back to looking at the pastry she's destroying rather than eating.

"It keeps trying to come back," she counters with a sigh. "People bring it up all the time, asking if I'm all right and if I've healed and offering condolences. I don't want any of it, but they won't let it be." She sighs again, and frowns down at Sarah so she's not staring at a pastry she has no appetite for. "I'm fine. I'll be fine. I'm alive - what more is necessary?"