Clint was on his feet before his brain hadn't even caught up with his senses. There had been some whining going on in the bathroom, he remembered vaguely, and first he had thought, Natasha just tried to bath Liho again or something. But now these noises didn't sound cat like at all anymore.
That evil doubtful voice inside asked him if he really wanted to go in there, fully knowing that he would feel only worse then. But that voice he could kick in the balls easily and tell it to piss off, and boy, did that feel good. Natasha was feeling miserable, it finally had all become too much for her, so he had to help. Period.
He startled a little when he saw her sitting on the floor, fearing that she had collapsed and he hadn't even realized it, but she didn't really look sick, not as much as in the morning. Only lost.
He dropped to his knees to wrap his arm around her shoulder and realized with half an eye that Liho fled from Natasha's lap. Right now he couldn't even be pissed that she couldn't stand him. He couldn't stand himself right now.
He didn't know what exactly he was apologizing for - then again he had fucked up in the last few days and months - but both his voice and his soothingly caressing hand on her shoulder froze when he spotted something black-and-white between her fingers. He tried to look away immediately when he understood, he really did, but something kept on pulling his head down, forced his eyes open. So much for being rational.
The voice in his head still screamed at him to get up and run while there was still time, when he reached for that photo with a heavy trembling hand to take a closer look. It had met a tear or two from Natasha's eyes but it was still perfectly clear what it showed.
All these things he had been trying to tell himself since yesterday to help Natasha with this, crashed down on him with one shaky, hoarse gasp for breath. And he realized, without surprise, that he had indeed no plan for this mission at all. No orders, no trained mindset, nothing to excuse a bad conscience. None of this. He held the mission in his hands and it was nothing they could execute, file and forget.
"This is a baby", he heard himself say, stupidly and awkwardly and confused, and fucking hell, how was he supposed to handle this? He looked up at Natasha, desperately hoping that she had anything to say, anything at all. "I mean... This is our baby, right?"
It didn't feel any better, any more comforting once it was finally out of his mouth like a poisoned apple he had been chewing on. Just more real. And even more terrifying. There was a baby, they really had made a baby together. Natasha was pregnant, she could have his child... A miracle if there ever had been one, and here she was stuck with the greatest train wreck on the planet.
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Date: 2014-06-19 06:39 pm (UTC)From:That evil doubtful voice inside asked him if he really wanted to go in there, fully knowing that he would feel only worse then. But that voice he could kick in the balls easily and tell it to piss off, and boy, did that feel good. Natasha was feeling miserable, it finally had all become too much for her, so he had to help. Period.
He startled a little when he saw her sitting on the floor, fearing that she had collapsed and he hadn't even realized it, but she didn't really look sick, not as much as in the morning. Only lost.
He dropped to his knees to wrap his arm around her shoulder and realized with half an eye that Liho fled from Natasha's lap. Right now he couldn't even be pissed that she couldn't stand him. He couldn't stand himself right now.
"Nat, I'm here. It's okay, I'm here. I'm sorry..."
He didn't know what exactly he was apologizing for - then again he had fucked up in the last few days and months - but both his voice and his soothingly caressing hand on her shoulder froze when he spotted something black-and-white between her fingers. He tried to look away immediately when he understood, he really did, but something kept on pulling his head down, forced his eyes open. So much for being rational.
The voice in his head still screamed at him to get up and run while there was still time, when he reached for that photo with a heavy trembling hand to take a closer look. It had met a tear or two from Natasha's eyes but it was still perfectly clear what it showed.
All these things he had been trying to tell himself since yesterday to help Natasha with this, crashed down on him with one shaky, hoarse gasp for breath. And he realized, without surprise, that he had indeed no plan for this mission at all. No orders, no trained mindset, nothing to excuse a bad conscience. None of this. He held the mission in his hands and it was nothing they could execute, file and forget.
"This is a baby", he heard himself say, stupidly and awkwardly and confused, and fucking hell, how was he supposed to handle this? He looked up at Natasha, desperately hoping that she had anything to say, anything at all. "I mean... This is our baby, right?"
It didn't feel any better, any more comforting once it was finally out of his mouth like a poisoned apple he had been chewing on. Just more real. And even more terrifying. There was a baby, they really had made a baby together. Natasha was pregnant, she could have his child... A miracle if there ever had been one, and here she was stuck with the greatest train wreck on the planet.
What now, Barton?