Natasha sat down in the medical bay on a bed, being relentlessly fussed over as she repeatedly insisted she was fine. S.H.I.E.L.D in general, though, were growing increasingly fond of their agents, she'd noticed. This wasn't necessarily a bad thing, it was just ...
Agents were expendable. It was better you didn't get too attached to your coworkers, because you never knew when the day was coming - the day you'd walk into work and see that their desk had been cleared, and there was no trace of them. It was like they'd disappeared off the face of the earth entirely. S.H.I.E.L.D were good at that sort of thing. Faking deaths, bringing people back from the dead, and making puppets of corpses. Just one of the agency's many charms.
She glared at a doctor who tried to come over and re-clean one of the wounds on her head.
"I'm fine," she almost snarled, "Go help someone who actually wants it."
"You know, help is there not for when you want it but for when you need it, Natasha," said a voice from behind her. She turned her head round - slowly, she didn't want her wounds to open again - and was faced with Maria Hill, showing off a few pretty nice wounds as well. It seemed like she hadn't seen Maria in forever. She'd been off on a mission before she'd been roped into the whole Avengers fiasco, and before that it had seemed like whenever she had free time Maria was busy. Or maybe they were just intentionally ignoring each other.
"Hill," she greeted her. After all these years, she couldn't bring herself to drop the habit of calling everyone by their last name, even if they were her friends.
"I thought you'd be lurking somewhere about here. Where would I be in life without your constant words of wisdom?" Natasha said as she studied Maria's face. There was something guarded about her expression, something she wasn't used to seeing. Maybe it was their time apart that was causing it, but Natasha almost thought that Maria would be pleased to see her.
Who was she kidding. No one was ever pleased to see her.
Maria came and sat next to her on the hospital bed, a reasonable distance away from Natasha. It felt like the Grand Canyon was between them though.
Natasha studied the white sheets, the crystal clarity of them almost burning her eyes. White had never been a good colour for her. It always was too pure, too stainless, until blood finally fell on it and it was ruined. Black was a better colour - blood didn't show up as easily.
There was silence for a while. Natasha remembered that when Maria used to train with her they were often silent as they worked, but it was comfortable, easy and it didn't feel like the silence was a person in the room, hovering over them, making them feel claustrophobic as it crouched over them. It was like there was a monster in the room.
This silence was jagged.
Maria cleared her throat and opened her mouth as if to speak, but then closed it again. Natasha hated it when people did this. She always knew that the thing they were going to say could be of use to her.
"Say it," she whispered, almost to herself.
She was tired of being screwed with today. First Loki, now Maria. It hurt enough from an enemy. But it hurt even more from one of the only people she'd call a friend.
"Are you OK?" Maria asked.
Natasha blinked. This wasn't what she'd expected at all.
"I'm fine, Maria," she said offhandedly. It was an automatic response now, and had been for quite some time.
"Please don't lie to me Natasha, it makes me feel worthless. I just meant that you've seen a lot in the past few days, The Hulk, the Chitauri ... I just wanted to make sure you didn't need anything," Maria said.
Natasha tensed, remembering her hostile run-in with the Hulk. Needless to say, she had one more memory to repress.
She licked her lips. "I don't ... I just don't think I can deal with people at the moment."
"What does that make me then?" maria asked. Natasha noticed there was some warmth in her voice, some sign of their returning friendship. However, when she looked up into Maria's startling blue eyes, there was nothing there but cold regret.
"A robot," she joked, trying to lighten the mood.
Maria smiled at her, and Natasha felt a sense of comfort, as if everything was right in the world again. Aliens might have attacked she might still be shaking with panic internally, but Maria was here and happy and somehow that was all that mattered.
"I might be your handler, Natasha, and I might be the superior agent-" Natasha scoffed at this and Maria laughed.
"But that doesn't mean I'm heartless. I care about you," she whispered that last part and placed her hand on top of Natasha's.
Natasha froze. Everything about this situation made her mind go in one thousand different directions, all of them frighting. This could only end badly and in tears.
But she let her. She let Maria care, and she let Maria hold her hand, even if she did nothing but tense up the entire time and worry about a million different things.
"Do you care because you're supposed to ..." Natasha trailed off.
"Or because I want to?" Maria finished her sentence for her. Natasha nodded and Maria smiled. She leaned towards Natasha.
"I care because I need to," she whispered into her ear.
Maria stood up and and let go of Natasha's hand, going to walk away.
"Remember, I'm not a robot!" she called back, grinning. Natasha smiled back.
"Well too bad, because I am!"
And then Maria was gone, leaving Natasha alone with the too-white sheets and the sinking feeling in her heart that nothing could be the same.
But maybe things could be different. And maybe things would be better.
She thought of Maria's hand on her own and smiled.
Yes, different was better.
I urgently needed more BlackHill in my life. This ship is one of my all-time favourites.
R&R!