Why are you sad

Ty grumbled when he heard the crash of glass to the ground. His eyes fluttered open for a moment before shutting again, thinking it was just a dream. He woke again, more abruptly and complete than the last time-when he heard another crash. This one sounded more like something was breaking, instead of glass being shattered against the floor. Assuming it was just Liho, the six year old rolled over and tried to lean up against Nat for comfort. He was met with empty space and realized that she was quite obviously not in the bed. It took him a moment but the little boy sat up, his blue eyes clouded by sleepiness and goo. He rubbed them until his vision became more clear but even then the room was pitch black with the exception of a line of light coming in from underneath the door that led into their living room.

That was odd.

Natter had told him she wasn't going to work.

"Nat?" He asked the dark room in a loud whisper. No response.

Ty was not a child of great bravery or extreme courage. He was in the simplest terms: very different. A gun being pointed to his head would cause the kid to furrow his brow in confusion instead of cower away in fear, and a needle being injected to his side would only cause him to inspect what the color of the fluid that was being shot into him was, instead of crying and moving around in protest. But the fear of monsters under the bed, and scary creatures in his closet, terrified him to the point of tears.

Another crash was the last straw for the six year old who decided best to get up. He slid not-so-gracefully off the bed until feeling the cold wooden floor hit his toes and sent shivers up his spine. Ty made his way quickly across the room, darting to the door in which he cracked open to get a better view at whoever had invaded their home. With the door cracked open he could now hear someone talking. A woman's voice...it sounded like she was talking to another person but he only could hear her single voice which was muffled by distance and exhausted little kid ears.

"Hello?" It probably wasn't the smartest idea to be engaging in conversation with whomever had broken into their apartment but what did he have to lose? They would eventually figure out he was here.

The little boy was relieved when the voice that replied was quite clearly Natasha's and he quickly made his way over to her in the kitchen, finding her slumped in the corner sitting up with an empty glass bottle. When he gazed up at the counter where there sat two more empty glass bottles. Nat was always talking about not being able to get drunk because of some 'serum' but he'd seen her manage it once before.

"Huh? Ty...what're you doing up? I thought you were-sleeping."

Ty tilted his head, trying to understand what she was saying to him. The air reeked of alcohol and the redhead's words were cloaked with a thick russian accent as well as being slurred together almost into one long word, but he could make out the gist of what she was trying to ask him.

"There was a big crash and...I thought someone had broken in." His last couple words were quieter when he noticed the glass that was scattered across the kitchen floor.

"Oh..no no. No one broke in. Clint just left, that's all." Her voice wasn't harsh, quite the opposite actually. It was sweet...and it was sad.

But that doesn't make sense...Tweety has been gone for a month almost.

"But-Tweety isn't here Natter...he isn't-" The six year old was cut off by Natasha gently 'shh-shing' him and reaching out her arms.

"Come here."

Ty looked around at the glass and sighed tiredly, his blue eyes glossed over with exhaustion and unshed tears having now been forced to think about Tweety's death. The six year old carefully made his way to her before bending down and sort of falling forward into her arms in which she happily embraced him. Now, sitting on the red heads legs and leaning his head back to look up at her he could see that she'd been crying, dry tear streaks coming down to her chin. It made sense considering her emerald eyes were glossed over and had a pinkish hue surrounding them.

"...You have stinky breath Natter." He told her quietly while pressing his small palms against her tear stained cheeks.

The assassin let out a dry chuckle.

"That's why you...brush your teeth. Everyday." She slurred as she leaned down and pressed her forehead against his own, tapping his nose with her index finger.

"Tweety and I are going to dinner tomorrow you know. I'll bring you back a treat." She whispered, smiling giddily.

Ty was shocked. How drunk was she? The six year old shook his head once again, not knowing how to respond to all of this.

"No...no, Tweety's not here." He whispered, playing with a strand of Nat's ginger hair before leaning his head against her chest.

There was a tangible pause.

"Why not?" She asked after the moment of silence had passed between the two.

Ty rubbed his eyes and sniffled. Why was she doing this? She knew he was dead, she knew. Why was she pretending that for some reason he had come to visit her and that she would be going out to dinner with him tomorrow, like everything was normal. Nothing was normal and it wasn't going to be for a long time. Ty lifted his head to look at her, his eyes narrowing, looking angrily into her emerald ones.

"Because he's dead! You know he's dead so stop saying that he's not!"

Nat's stare was empty and she made a grunt that sounded like an 'Oh'. "Why're you mad?"

"Because."

"Tell me why."

"You're a liar. You told me it was Tweety to make me upset."

"No I didn't. I don't ever want to make you upset."

"Yes you do."

"No I don't, you're my baby."

Ty scrunched his nose as he felt her place a soft kiss to his forehead, running her fingers through his messy hair.

"I'm not a baby." He mumbled, the anger having faded from his tone which was now laced with a flood of exhaustion. It had to be around 2AM and here he was, sitting on the kitchen floor in his mother's lap, surrounded by bottles of her vodka-shattered bottles that was.

"You're my baby." She mumbled, wrapping her arms around his body and giving him a tight hug.

Ty grumbled and let her hug him, usually he wasn't opposed to receiving hugs but in this case the hugger smelled strongly of alcohol and sour M&M's.

"Can we go back to the bed? It's cold out here, Natter." Ty explained and looked around the kitchen whilst trying to keep his little feet from touching the floor. It was made of tile and the air vents made it feel more like ice than anything else during the summer.

"Mhm. You gotta help me though." She said softly, lifting him off her lap before standing up a bit wobbly like. Ty was convinced she might fall over so he reached up to hold her hand tightly in his and led her through the sea of broken glass until they reached the carpeted living room and eventually the bedroom.

Ty hugged his plush TRex to his chest, laying on his side so he could face Nat, whose eyes were already heavily shut.

"I miss him too Natter but...I think it'll be okay." He whispered, eyes cast up at the ceiling fan.

He heard Nat mumble some scrambled sentence under her vodka tinted breath before he felt her pull him into a tight hug, almost as if he were her own personal teddy bear, which in a way, he was.

"I won't leave you Natter. I promise!" The six year old declared-quietly declared, with his forehead pressed against her neck. He couldn't tell if the she had heard him or not in her drunken stupor but he liked to think that she did.

He felt her arms tighten ever so slightly around his small body, a light snore now coming from the assassin. The six year old let out an exhausted yawn and followed happily in her footsteps, falling into a heavy sleep.