A/N: Hi all! I've been dealing with my own case of the blues lately, so this is the manifestations of that. If you need help, talk to someone. Tomorrow's another day. I own absolutely nothing except Kitty Stark, my lovingly crafted o/c.
The Chicago winter air is a different cold than I remember from anywhere else. It's frigid, biting almost, but something about it is comforting. It almost reminds me of the winters back home, but the air smells different. Tony says it smells dirty, but it's not unlike New York in that respect. It smells like a city, but something about it is much more inviting than New York. I can smell pizza and hot dogs, again not unlike New York, but if I was being honest, I'd grow to like the food here much more. I took another long drag from the menthol cigarette clutched tightly between my fingers, the smoke swirling with the breath leaving my lungs and lingering heavily in front of me. The taste was foul, it always was, but it was the action and the slight burn in the back of my throat that brought the comfort. There was another thick blanket of snow covering the ground. We'd gotten slammed with another lake-effect storm that brought nearly a foot with it. Even with my body pulled up on the weathered wooden picnic table that came with the house the snow nearly met my bent knees.
"Thought you gave that shit up?" I nearly launched myself forward off the table and into the snowy abyss beneath me at the sound of the amused voice behind me.
"How in the hell did you get in?" Clint Barton stood resolutely in a thick winter jacket and black hat pulled low over his ears. There was no amusement in his features he was all seriousness as he approached the table, settling himself onto the corner of it, letting the snow erase his boots from view. He shrugged once before plucking the cigarette from my hands and plunging it into the snow.
"I have clearance. Well I assumed I still did anyway. Looks like I was right. Parker looked pretty surprised to see me though." I still hadn't really looked at him, forcing my eyes to meet the rising skyline peeking above the stone wall that surrounded the small back yard.
"Why wouldn't you? Nothing's changed. I'm just surprised FRIDAY didn't alert me."
"I think a lot has changed. Come home." It wasn't an order, not really, nor was it pleading. I drew a ragged breath through my teeth before pulling out the pack of cigarettes from my pocket and lighting up another one. No objection came from Clint this time. I continued to stare into nothing for a while and he seemed content to sit in silence with me for the time being.
"I fucked up." He chuckled deeply beside me and reached over with two clumsy fingers to swipe away the one stubborn tear that refused to stay back off of my cheek.
"Well, not like it would be the first time." I shot him a hurt look and he pulled me into his side and securely under his right arm, his chin perched above my shoulder. "And…it's not like you're the only one who's ever made a mistake." Another drag off the cigarette centered me again. "But not everyone disappears off the planet to deal with it." He had me there, and he knew it. I pulled my bottom lip between my teeth, pulling at the skin there.
"I did some pretty stupid things."
"Well, so did they. Look, you screwed up on a mission-"
"Yeah, and almost got Nat killed. It was sloppy and stupid." Clint sighed, probably knowing he was fighting a losing battle. It was going to be hard to convince me otherwise, mostly because he knew I was right. I had been effectively benched from missions for a couple months. My mind was scattered, my powers on the fritz again for what seemed like the millionth time this year alone.
Trauma. That's what the shrink said that Tony sent me to. Not that anyone would have a hard time believing it. I had lost my parents, my real parents, in quick succession, seen some pretty brutal things on missions, gotten myself seriously injured a couple of times. PTSD. Sam's words hung heavily in my ears. I had seen wars, death, been embroiled in battles with beasts of lore, but somehow, for some reason, things here just seemed to hit more heavily. Whatever the root cause, or causes were, they shook me deeply. Depression, anxiety. Human concepts, not ones typically associated with mythical beings.
"You're a person, Kitty. You have a brain, a heartbeat, a soul. You feel things the same as anyone else. Everyone's got problems, we all get low sometimes." Bruce's words mingled with Sam's pleading for me to see the signs. And so the next week I did as Tony asked and saw the shrink, and it helped, but it didn't cure anything, not really. I was still struggling to get my mental strength back, to be of use to the team. I was a warrior, a good fighter even without the help of my mental enhancements, but the lack of them, and the weird sensations and visions that randomly surged through my head were a distraction.
I had practically begged to go with them. An easy in an out mission, mostly intel collection of a Hydra base, one of the few remaining. But, things weren't going to go my way anytime soon and in the middle of a shoot-out, I froze. It was like a black out, but full of flashes of old, ancient even, memories. I couldn't push it out of my mind and Natasha caught a bullet as a consequence. It was an easy through and through over her right hip and she had even laughed it off, not easily shaken by bullet wounds anymore after doing what she did for so long. She was probably on her feet within two days, but I didn't stick around to find out. I helped her to the jet, listening to her crack stupid jokes the whole way there, not once blaming me, or shaming me and it pissed me off. She should have been reaming me, tearing me apart, but she wasn't. It only occurred to me later that it was probably because she knew I'd get walloped more than enough by everyone else. She was a good friend.
Of course that line of thinking had been right in line with what happened as soon as we were joined by everyone else in the jet. Tony walked right past me, not a word or a look in my direction which honestly hurt worse than anything else that was to come. Clint had been next with a sad smile and pat on the shoulder. Then his high holiness Cap came charging up the ramp, first turning attention to Natasha who waved him off as Clint went through the normal motions of temporarily patching the wound up until we got home. I felt myself shrink back into the seat of the jet as far as I could before he rounded on me. His face was littered in small cuts and a nice size bruise covered his cheek. His eyes were bright with anger and his lips were set in a tight line and I braced myself. One large finger uncurled itself from the fist he was clenching at his side and he pointed it threateningly in my face. He got so close I could feel his breath on my face as he began to give me the dressing down I was fully expecting.
"I told you this wasn't a good idea, didn't I? I told you that you weren't ready, that you would be useless on this mission. A liability." I had flinched at the words he spat at me, turning my face away from him, trying to keep the tears at bay. Clint had stood from his crouched position at Natasha's side and taken a step towards us.
"Hey, Cap, take it easy on her. Nat's fine it's just-"
"But what if she wasn't, huh? What if that had been a bullet in her head?" It was Bucky's voice that interrupted Clint's defense and I felt my heart break a little more. Of course I expected Bucky to take Steve's side, he always did, but I didn't expect him to voice his opinion so aggressively. He was leaning against the wall of the jet, his glare burning a hole through my heart. I turned my attention to the ground, not being able to look any of them in the eye. A sudden bang made me jump and a little squeak fell from my mouth as Steve had wheeled half-way from me and slammed his fist into the small overhang on the jet causing it to warp under the force. The tears fell then, and freely. I could hear him turn back towards me now.
"You're done, do you hear me? I don't want to hear another word from you about a mission. Effective immediately. I won't let your stubbornness or carelessness compromise anyone else on this team. Do you understand?" The words were practically a growl and I thought for the first time ever, in all the years I had known Steve, known my team, my friends, that he just may hit me. Not that I really thought he would. Steve Rogers would never hit a woman, but he sure looked like he wanted to. I nodded jerkily to him and excused myself from the main cabin of the jet, locking myself in the small toilet room for the duration of the flight. I sobbed as quietly as I could as I thought of the disappointment I had been, my friend with a bullet in her, and the fact that through all the searing words Steve had thrown at me, Tony, the man who I regarded as my father, didn't say a word. I didn't think my heart could have broken any more than it had in that moment.
The jet landed and I waited until everyone was gone before emerging from my sanctuary. The lights were off and I stumbled blindly in the dark and down the ramp, leaving my bag, my phone, my weapons, everything behind. I stood in the dark on the concrete landing pad for some time, trying to figure out what to do next. I stared longing at the steel door that would lead me into the tower, but I knew I couldn't go in.
"Heimdall, please bring me home." The words were a whisper, but I knew he could hear my pleas to him. He had probably been watching me stand there in my misery, waiting for me to say the words. The light engulfed me and I was standing before him, watching him smile sadly at me as I passed by him, dejected and wordless. Thor had been surprised to see me, and when I told him about my complete and utter failure, he hugged me. He promised me that here, I would get the counsel I needed. And so there I stayed for six months, healing one day at a time.
For some reason, the first person I'd thought to contact when I came back was Peter. I had missed him, this spider-kid from Queens who on shit days, what a bright spot for me. He never faltered in his loyalty and he had been quick to ask if he could stay for a while, over Christmas break. I had quickly agreed and with his aunt's permission, I'd sent a plane for him that night. He arrived with a gift for me.
"You missed Christmas. I was saving it for you." It was one of those charm bracelets that I'd always admired, but never thought I'd personally wear. Sterling silver with a simple clasp and one lone charm hanging from the bottom, a small disk with a fancy script K engraved into it. I hugged him tightly and he let me cry into his shirt on the frozen door step. So a week later he was still here, talking when I wanted to, binge watching Netflix when I didn't.
"Hey. You with me?" Two loudly snapping fingers in front of my eyes brought my attention back to Clint, a sad look on his face. I nodded hazily, still halfway lodged in the memories. A last drag of the mostly ash cigarette brought me fully back to the present. "Come home." He repeated his earlier mantra. I buried my face in my frozen palms.
"I can't" The words were ragged and rough as they tried to work their way around the lump in my throat. Soothing hands found their way to my shoulders, working the strained muscles there. "I don't think I could show my face there again Clint."
"Yeah, we thought you'd say that. So we figured we'd show our faces here instead." I slowly raised my head from hands to look towards the new voice cutting through the air. In the doorway of the open French doors was Tony, arms crossover over his chest, his face lit up dimly by the glowing light in his chest. Clint pressed his lips firmly to the top of my head before sliding off the table and crunching back towards the house, clapping Tony on the back as he passed into the house like he was tagging him in for a wrestling match. He pushed himself off of the door frame, quietly closing the door behind him to keep the arctic air out and advanced toward me. I looked away and back towards the skyline. "May I?" He was gesturing toward the area recently vacated by Clint.
"Course." I replied quietly. He took a deep breath before blowing it out his nose loudly and I could tell he was fighting off a comment about the smell, but he refrained.
"Look, kid, you know I'm not good with this stuff, but I can tell you're gonna make me do all the talking here. I…we all want you to come home." I scoffed and shivered at the sudden gust of wind that whipped through the city. I clutched at the arms of my thin sweater, wishing I'd brought a coat.
"We?"
"Yes, Barnes and Rogers too. You have an enormous pile of presents to open, of course mine are the best, but you knew that." He hesitantly rested his hand on my shoulder and I only flinched slightly.
"Why would anyone buy me presents?"
"Probably because we love you, but I'm just goin off of past history here." I sniffled and pawed the tears away from my cheeks that were stubbornly continuing to fall. He sighed noisily again and grabbed my hand in his much warmer one. "If I told you I was sorry a hundred times, it wouldn't be enough. You…you needed help and when you needed us most, we were total dicks."
"I'm better now. I mean, I got my powers back." At this point he pulled me into the most bone crushing hug I'd ever felt, even from Thor.
"I don't care about that. I care about you, the apple of my eye, jewel in my crown. Please stop cryin' kid, you're breakin' that small tiny piece of my heart that still exists." I choked out a watery laugh and finally brought my own arms up to wrap them firmly around his ribs, gripping like him like a lifeline. He pulled away slightly and fumbled around in the jacket pocket of his zip up sweatshirt and produced a small red box which he offered to me. "That bracelet was kind of a group gift. I'd take all the credit, but it was honestly the kid's idea." When I hesitated to take the box he shoved in gently into my hands. I pulled out of his grasp so I could slowly open the lid of the box. Nestled inside was another small charm, this one a petite crown. I looked up to see his amused smile, a hand over his heart. "Queen of my heart." He deftly undid the clasp of the dainty bracelet and slid his addition onto it before securing it around my wrist once more.
"Thanks, Dad." He hummed a reply and patted my shoulders before standing.
"Rogers wants to plead his case to you out here. I told him it probably wasn't a good idea since the screaming might bother your neighbors." He shuffled from foot to foot nervously, I gave him a shrug in reply, which seemed to be all he needed before setting off to the door but turning back to me as he reached for the handle. "For what it's worth, I am sorry kid." I gave him the best watery smile I could muster, knowing this apology would be more than I'd get from Steve. I mentally prepared myself for another searing lecture. This one would probably be all about the irresponsibility of just up and leaving the planet for six months.
"Thank you." He smiled again and left me to light up another cigarette, not feeling so bad since I hadn't really even smoked the last one, just let it turn to ash between my fingers. I wondered how many members of the team were currently huddled up in my house. I let the scalding heat and the chilling menthol burn the back of my throat momentarily before exhaling it just in time for the door to open again, the frame filled by the hulking form of the Captain, my black coat clutched in his left hand.
He gave me a lopsided grin that didn't come anywhere close to reaching his eyes. He treaded slowly and carefully, maybe almost calculatingly through the snow towards me. He of course was not dressed for the weather, never really feeling the cold. Just dark jeans and a long sleeve gray shirt, brown boots on his feet the only sign of dressing for the elements. He carefully opened up the jacket and slowly lowered it over my shoulders. An involuntary flinch shook my body. I quietly thanked him and passed the cigarette back between my hands as I pulled my arms through it, relishing its warmth.
"Captain." My voice was barely above a whisper as I greeted him. He flinched noticeably at the title. He rocked back on his heels a couple times before steeling himself, working up the nerve to stand in front of me. The quick movement caught me off guard and a scooted back a little on the table. He looked wounded and I did feel bad, not really knowing where this hesitation was coming from.
"I deserve that. I-Jesus." He huffed out a loud breath before squatting down on the balls of his feet so he could look at me in the eyes. A large hand swept through his hair before he dragged it roughly over his face. He roughly plucked the cigarette from between my fingers and I tried to protest as he flicked it clear across the yard but I was stopped by his hands pulling mine into them. The same hands that had put the large dent into the quinjet on my account. I tried to shake the memory from my head as fresh tears burned behind my eyes. I wouldn't cry in front of him again, I just couldn't do it. "Please look at me." I couldn't so I let my eyes flit to anything thing else distracting in the yard, or back to the skyline. His grip tightened slightly in another effort to pull my attention to him. I conceded this time, letting my green eyes meet his shining sapphire ones.
"Steve, I'm so sorry. You were right. I was stupid, and stubborn, and reckless. I could have gotten everyone killed. I-" I was rambling and the tears were errantly falling of their own accord. His breath hitched and he shook his head rapidly.
"Stop it. Don't say anything else. Please." He hesitantly reached his hand up to smooth the hair off of my face that had been plastered there by drying tears and frozen air. When I didn't protest he gently rested his hand on the back of my head, tangling his fingers in the dark strands. "You have nothing to be sorry for, do you hear me? I am, the biggest jackass that has probably ever existed." My head whipped up at the use of the expletive which caused his hand to slightly pull at my hair. "We're supposed to be a family, but I left you to sink. All those things, those awful things I said to you, I didn't mean them. I was scared." I nodded jerkily, understanding that seeing Nat bleeding through her suit with a bullet in her could shake up anyone, well except her apparently.
"I could have gotten her killed." I muttered quietly and a humorless laugh tumbled out from between his lips, red from the cold air. He tightened the grip on the back of head, but not uncomfortably so.
"I wasn't scared for Nat. We've seen her take way worse than that. She was back on her feet the next day like nothing ever happened. In fact, she was so fine that she had absolutely no problem busting my ass five ways to Sunday when she found out you were gone. "I flinched at his words, letting that very unpleasant picture unfold in my mind. "I was scared for you, you stubborn ass. You are infuriating do you know that? You drive me absolutely crazy." I flinched again, knowing that this was now taking the turn into the berating I had expected it to be in the first place. "Look at me. I was so worried. We all were. I looked everywhere for you. I called your phone two hundred times before I found it in the jet."
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean-" An honest to god growl came from his chest and I stopped immediately. He had his head titled up to black, starless sky, probably counting to ten in his head. "Sorry, I'm being infuriating again." He released all holds on me and began to pace in front of me, driving a trail into the deep snow. When he turned back to look at me, he had an unreadable expression on his face. His dark brows were knit together in the way they usually are when he's got his sketch book in his lap, or he's trying to place a reference he doesn't understand.
"Thor finally came by, about a week after you'd been gone. He told us you were safe, on Asgard. Honestly was probably the last place I would have thought you'd go. He let us know you were getting help, and you were already a lot better than you were when you showed up there. Then he threatened to smite me and Bucky." He huffed a laugh before continuing. "In my mind, I thought you'd be back in a couple weeks. I told myself you just needed some time to regroup. But then the months kept going by and Christmas was coming and I know how much you love Christmas and when you didn't even come home for that…"
"Steve, you're rambling." He muttered a quiet "Right." under his breath.
"Look, I'm screwing this up. I want you to come home. I miss your jokes, and I miss you constantly hounding me for not understanding pop culture references, I miss you yelling at Sam for leaving his dishes all over the kitchen. I just really miss you and I'm an idiot and I am-"
"Are a jackass?" His dropped his shoulders and laughed half-heartedly before slowly approaching me again, taking my face carefully in between his hands and brushing his thumbs over my cheek bones.
"The biggest to ever exist, and a very sorry one. You and me, I know it's not always easy between us. It's not exactly, stable or steady. Maybe I'm too scared to put a real label on us because things like this happen and then I have to think about what it might mean to lose you. I love you, with everything that's mine to give you, and that's what I know."
"That's one hell of an apology. I guess I'd be the jackass if I said I didn't accept it."
"Tell me that you feel the same way, and we'll call it square."
"I love you too."
"Great. It's been six months since I've kissed you and it's killin me to be so close to you darlin so will you let me?" I laughed and nodded my permission. The kiss was feather light at first, like he was waiting for me to push him away, but when I returned his affections he deepened it to show me just how much he'd missed me. When he finally pulled back he pulled me off the table and into his arms clutching me tightly against his chest, his hand back in my hair.
A series and whoops and cheers sounded from the door and the team was huddled around the small space watching the scene unfold. I rolled my eyes good naturedly at them and waved them away.
"Alright, now get your asses in here. I slaved away over a Christmas dinner since your ass missed it the first time!" Sam was waving us in, a grin on his face despite the tone of irritation lacing his voice. I turned my attention back to Steve.
"You guys flew a Christmas dinner all the way from New York?"
"Yeah, it was Pepper's idea." He still had in his arms, legs wrapped around his waist.
"And what if this would have all gone sideways?"
"We hadn't actually thought that far ahead." I laughed and he lowered me into the snow, taking my hand in his, letting him lead us back into the warm house where our family was waiting.
