So it goes with saying that only things I own with any connection to MARVEL I bought on Ebay or Etsy. MARVEL COMICS & MARVEL CINEMATIC UNIVERSE are their own creatures and I have nothing to do with either of them aside from the fact I enjoy reading or watching them, and am grateful for the ability to play in their world. I claim nothing, and I receive nothing for this, expect the pleasure of putting something out into the world.
You can also find this story on ARCHIVE OF OUR OWN under the same title and pen name along with a place to post suggestions.
Don't forget to check out the Photobucket album by searching the title of this story and my user name.
CHAPTER SIX
SATURDAY, JUNE 2ND 2012
1852 HOURS
PEPPER POTTS CABIN, WOODSTOCK NY
2565 ROUTE 212
NATASHA
The way his cheek ticks as he steps into the room, and then stops with a foot on either side is all I need to understand. He's still upset about this arrangement but he's accepting it because he knows it's the only one we have available.
After what happened on the 12th, when I came upstairs, I could tell he was fighting the urge to physically throw me out of the house. He resisted it rather well, but he didn't resist the urge to keep me out of that room.
He knew I knew something. He wasn't stupid enough to actually believe I had no idea about the security measures in this house. Once Pepper offered it to us, Clint and I both evaluated the property, and made our recommendations on what it would need to be defensible.
I don't even blame him for assuming I knew everything. We haven't exactly painted the brightest of pictures for him. Given my 'callous' attitude toward lying about a woman's entire life, and the World Council's hanging death threat. But while he had the justification, that didn't mean he had the facts.
I was just as pissed about that as he was. At myself and at Tony. I would have never allowed that if I knew. I missed that. I don't know how I missed that, but I did.
Steve wanted me gone. He didn't trust me near her anymore, and he wanted as far away from her as possible, which lead to a very intense argument. I'm well trained on how to fight bigger men, but I still don't have any desire to fight Captain America, and several times it looked like it might come to that. Eventually though we reached a truce, because I was the only one here who knew how S.H.I.E.L.D operated, and if really wanted to keep her away from them, then I needed to be here.
We also quickly discovered another reason for me to stay. The nurses were scared of her now. Some of them wouldn't even come in the room unless I and Steve were both in there with them, and while some were fine if it was only one of us, they prefered us to do the procedures that required physical contact.
Nora touched a woman's skin for a second, and heat blisters climbed from her wrist to her neck. I understand how that's terrifying to a normal person, it's not exactly comforting to me either. How do you defend against someone you won't shoot, when all they need to do is get their hands on an inch of skin? Even wearing the right clothes and armor might not be enough, because those can come off in a fight.
But she hasn't hurt us. In fact, despite her screaming at Steve, the words unknown but the rage crystal clear, when he pulled her unconscious body out of there, the tears he wiped off her cheeks put fresh pink skin on his broken knuckles. She healed him, and he hasn't been able to stop looking at that ever since, with guilt in his eyes.
SATURDAY, JUNE 2ND 2012
1853 HOURS
PEPPER POTTS CABIN, WOODSTOCK NY
2565 ROUTE 212
STEVE
It threw me for a second, even though I knew I'd probably see it. Natasha was just sitting there with Nora's hand in her's as she trimmed her nail. It bothered me at first, the scene too foreign to feel right. I've seen it several times already, and i'm not going to lie to myself about it. I'd take her screaming at me over this, at least it would be something.
We put her up here, in a place where she could be a person again. It's a nice place. It's got its own bathroom. There's a walk in closet, a shower that's big enough for several people to fit in, and has handicap rails and a bench. It has a tub too, that's made out of slate grey marble, and vinyl printed wood. The sink is made of the same marble too. I even put a fake lily in there for her because she likes flowers, and had a planter of fake ivy hung on the wall.
The bedroom is more modern than what I think Nora would like, but Miss Potts took my suggestion to heart, and had someone stitch together a patchwork quilt out of synthetic fabric to go with the rest of the bedding. I even chose a painting that reminds me a bit of a dandelion, and had a fake palm put next to the couch opposite the bed.
Then on top of that it has its own little living room. The rooms divided by a wide decorative half wall that serves as a planter box, but is currently filled with several large leafed imitations. On one side there isn't anything but a wall of shelves and a few cabinets for her to fill with books later, but on the side with the windows that stretch from floor to ceiling there is a short backed black sectional, with white pillows, and a coffee table made of light 'wood'.
I tried to fill it with things I thought she would like, and I was hoping when she woke up she would tell me how much she appreciated it. But she did wake up, and she had nothing to say, to anyone.
You say you want to take her pulse, and she'll give you her hand. You say it's time for her bath and she'll let Natasha help her up. You say it's time to eat and she'll stare vacantly out the window and accept the spoon when it gets close enough to her mouth. She gets sits there like an obedient empty doll, with eyes that always look on the verge of tears, and I hate it. I hate it so much, but nothing I say, nothing I do, nothing I offer or beg does anything.
It's been like this for weeks. Banner has reassured me several times that this state has nothing to do with the gas, partly for my own sanity, partly because I asked, and I think partly to keep me from going to beat Tony bloody.
He had J.A.R.V.I.S run some scans, and nothing suggests abnormal brain functions. Natasha has confirmed that too in her own way. Her responses are all seem to be conscious. The way her eyes react to light, and move around whether she is awake or asleep don't suggestion a neurological problem.
The only thing making Nora like this is Nora. She's deliberately shutting everything else out, and isolating herself in her own head. I defeated world domination once, but how do I win against this?
MONDAY, MAY 14TH 2012
We didn't think it was that serious at first, we were all just happy when she started to blink and open her eyes. I was just happy. Even though we had her restrained on a different hospital bed, it was still something to celebrate. But then she just looked at me and closed her eyes again. She didn't fight, she didn't struggle, she didn't scream. She didn't do anything.
TUESDAY, MAY 15TH 2012
That hurt, but I moved past it. I made Nora mad, I did something wrong. I let this happen. I explained to her that the restraints were only temporary. They were just there until we could convince the staff she wasn't going to attack them again, that I knew that was just because of her phobia, and she didn't really mean it.
WEDNESDAY, MAY 16TH 2012
I kept telling myself it was okay, and I knew why she did what she did. But that got harder to believe. Nora had a mental condition that made her brain think any touch was like a painful attack. But now she just laid there with her eyes closed, and she never flinched. When Natasha came to adjust the IV or to check Nora's vitals, she never flinched. Nora always flinched, because even if the person touching her was wearing gloves, if Nora wasn't looking she couldn't know that until the touch happened. Natasha knew it too.
THURSDAY, MAY 17TH 2012
We started trying different things. Anytime Nora opened her eyes, we'd ask her questions. Simple things, hoping for simple answers. How did she feel? Did she want anything? Was she thirsty? Was she hungry? Did she want to wear a sweater or a robe?
FRIDAY, MAY 18TH 2012
I asked her why she wouldn't talk to me, and her eyes didn't open at all for the rest of the day.
SATURDAY, MAY 19TH 2012
I finally let Natasha try. I was still mad, and up until then I was just leaving her alone with Natasha when it was time to let her help Nora bathe. Nobody else would, and I clearly couldn't do that to Nora. Maybe Natasha would have better luck because she was a woman, maybe Natasha would have better luck because she wasn't me.
FRIDAY, JUNE 1ST 2012
Even brain storming off each other both of us knew we were running out of ideas, and both of us were beginning to wonder if there really was nothing we could do.
SUNDAY, JUNE 3RD 2012
0047 HOURS
PEPPER POTTS CABIN, WOODSTOCK NY
2565 ROUTE 212
STEVE
When I woke up to the sound of her crying, I didn't care that it was after midnight. I didn't even care that she was upset, as wrong as it was I was so happy she was showing anything at all. I didn't care that I didn't know what she meant by 'he always keeps his promises'. I just held her as she started sobbing into my shirt. Telling her it was all going to be alright.