It wasn't okay, not at all, she wasn't okay. She was in shock, deep enough to paralyze her mind, and there weren't many things that could shake the Black Widow that much. With not telling him, she really told him enough.
It wasn't okay to just shut up and drive back as if nothing happened, no. He wanted to hear it from her, he wanted to know what and how the hell it had happened and even more important, what the hell they should be doing now.
But Natasha asked him to drive her home, so he started the car and shut up. Maybe he would have argued, would have insisted on her letting him know, if he hadn't been so goddamn afraid himself. Maybe he didn't even want to know.
For a while they drove in silence because he needed all his concentration to not wrap them around the next flower tray or down the serpentines. Also he didn't have an idea what the hell to say. So he spent the time dully translating the music from the radio in various languages in his head, to keep his thoughts away from that one scary subject. Or with telling himself to stop freaking out over nothing. Probably it was just like he had thought, Natasha just didn't cope with the heat, and they would have to leave much sooner than expected. That was what she didn't want to tell him, sure...
His own pale reflection in the back mirror let him know, he wasn't very successful with fooling himself. And Natasha didn't look much better. She looked... lost. Scared and alone. Wasn't there something he had told her earlier about being there for her? It wasn't fair to fall into brooding mode just because she needed a moment for herself to cope with everything. He had promised her.
His hand still felt too cold and heavy when he placed it on Natasha's thigh but he felt a little better when he could touch her, his anchor that always pulled him down when he threatened to float off into hurt and panic.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2014-06-08 12:58 pm (UTC)From:It wasn't okay to just shut up and drive back as if nothing happened, no. He wanted to hear it from her, he wanted to know what and how the hell it had happened and even more important, what the hell they should be doing now.
But Natasha asked him to drive her home, so he started the car and shut up. Maybe he would have argued, would have insisted on her letting him know, if he hadn't been so goddamn afraid himself. Maybe he didn't even want to know.
For a while they drove in silence because he needed all his concentration to not wrap them around the next flower tray or down the serpentines. Also he didn't have an idea what the hell to say. So he spent the time dully translating the music from the radio in various languages in his head, to keep his thoughts away from that one scary subject. Or with telling himself to stop freaking out over nothing. Probably it was just like he had thought, Natasha just didn't cope with the heat, and they would have to leave much sooner than expected. That was what she didn't want to tell him, sure...
His own pale reflection in the back mirror let him know, he wasn't very successful with fooling himself. And Natasha didn't look much better. She looked... lost. Scared and alone. Wasn't there something he had told her earlier about being there for her? It wasn't fair to fall into brooding mode just because she needed a moment for herself to cope with everything. He had promised her.
His hand still felt too cold and heavy when he placed it on Natasha's thigh but he felt a little better when he could touch her, his anchor that always pulled him down when he threatened to float off into hurt and panic.
It didn't help find anything to say, though.