I hope you enjoy this! It took me forever, as you all know.
I appreciate all the support! Thank you all!
"Are you all right?"
Natasha glanced up at the demigod from her position on the couch, her knees tucked under her chin and a knit blanket tossed over her. Her eyes were unfocused, puzzled as she lazily pulled away from the television screen and settled her gaze on the tall figure in front of her. She had tried, throughout the day, to maintain the usual level of focus and intent she had in her eyes. She had so desperately wished to appear as herself, to look normal as she interacted with fellow agents throughout the day.
And instead, she had found her mind completely on Clint, on his whereabouts and feelings and ultimately abandoned the effort. Clint was essentially her better half, who she looked to for understanding and comfort. Clint was what had kept her humanity, given her another chance at life. She owed him everything she had, and yet now he would no longer speak to her.
And Natasha felt an emptiness that she could not shake. She had been built to never get attached, but she had never been taught how to heal. It was almost as if they expected her to be able to wipe her memory clean, like they had when they had taken her and reprogrammed her and made her their tool. But the truth was that she could never shake her past fully.
She could deny and repress, but to what avail?
Natasha had barely opened her mouth all day, unless her words had been proven necessary. Clint's ultimate abandonment had resonated with her, she felt his sudden absence and it hurt. It ached.
Natasha felt like a fragment of who she once was, just a piece of something else that now served no purpose.
Clint was gone, he'd been hurt. And there was nothing she could do to alleviate his pain.
She opened her mouth slowly, pulling her lips apart after they seemed to have been dried together. Her voice was scratchy, weak as she forced the words out.
"I'm fine," she sounded distant, like her voice had come from another realm.
Thor knelt beside her so that he was eye level with her. He didn't believe her, she could tell by the glint of concern in his eyes as he studied her and concluded her behavior was not as it usually was. Thor was one of few who truly empathized with her. He was one of two people who wanted to alleviate her pain, not hide from it or deny it, but take it away from her and make it his own; make her life easier for no other reason than he wanted to.
"Do you feel ill?" he asked gently, seeming to want to reach out and show her some sign of concern and mild affection but stopping himself, knowing it would only upset her further.
"No," she said icily, her eyes again on the television.
There was a long pause before she heard a sigh escape his lips. In her peripheral vision, she saw his head lower slightly in defeat before he lifted it again, his eyes falling on her.
"Natasha, I only wish to help—"
"You can't," she snapped back emotionlessly, reaching down for the remote control and changing the channel. Natasha saw no benefit in speaking, her words would only show her deep rooted pain to the world, no matter how well she could mask it as accepting indifference.
And Thor, who seemed to read her well enough as is, would only understand. She did not wished to be understood, not now. Not by him and about this.
Natasha was the one designed to read people but be a mystery herself. Thor's attention and desire to help her only made her bitter, angry, scared.
Without her assets, she was nothing.
She was a waste, a mistake. She was a glitch that needed repair, but no one would tend to her and make her right again.
Thor's assistance would just damage her further.
She sighed, keeping her eyes on the screen. Part of her just wanted to throw him out, to just tell him to get out and leave her be and allow her to consume her pain, to devour it by herself and make it nothing more than a memory. Let her heal.
He only would open the wounds. He would only make her pain worse, because he would acknowledge it and make it real.
Instead, she said nothing. And she didn't know why. She could feel the words bubbling up in her throat, pushing on her tongue and her lips and all she did was swallow them down.
Natasha frowned, unable to distinguish why she was unable to make him leave. True, they had a connection, but it was nothing she couldn't overcome.
He wasn't Clint, to put it simply.
But still, she wanted him to stay. And looking at him now, at how her harsh words seemed to affect him, she wanted to soothe his pain.
Perhaps he just gave her something to look after, like a cat; providing her companionship and feigned friendship in an otherwise lonely and isolated life.
"I'm sorry," she said stoically, nodding at him. "That was rude of me."
Thor didn't argue with her, but merely glanced up at her with almost a saddened understanding.
"Do you wish me gone, Natasha?" he asked simply.
His accusation caught her off guard. She furrowed her brow, almost shaking her head as she attempted to be rational. "I'm sorry, what—"
"I know my constant presence has not been an…easy adjustment for you," he explained. "And perhaps it would be better if I came down here less frequently—"
"No," she said, speaking from an impulse as opposed to her logic. "It's just…I don't mind you staying here, Thor."
She sighed, her frazzled mind and rushed thoughts proving difficult as she attempted to justify her admission as a logical decision, as the smart move.
But there was no reason for him to stay there, none that would help her maintain a distance in their relationship.
She was fragile. She wanted company, his company. It was that simple. She could defend it no other way.
"It's not you," she said quietly, shaking her head slightly in defeat as she slumped against the couch behind her. "Don't blame yourself for my mood."
She took a breath. "It's me. Nothing I can't handle."
Thor almost said something contrary to her point, but decided against it.
Natasha glanced at him, waiting for him to articulate the thought he clearly was holding back on. When he failed to speak, Natasha assumed it was because he could think of no reason to stay there.
Granted, she didn't mind the company, but perhaps it was for the best if he left. Natasha was never meant to play hostess, least of all to a demigod, and sooner or later her lack of humanity would shine through and she would break their connection anyway.
It was logical to remove him now before his feelings were hurt, and she lost him as an ally. She didn't wish to depend on him, but it gave her some comfort to know he was around.
She wished nothing from him, not real friendship, understanding nor least of all love. But having him there made her feel she had something else to focus on, like a pet she could use to alleviate her stress.
He strangely enough allowed her to dwell on her own thoughts a little less, as she could focus on him and worry not of her damned fate at SHIELD.
Even if it was just his physical being in her home, it made her feel good to know he was there, that she had him to house and tend to, allowing her to hide from her own pain for a bit longer.
It was a dependence, she realized with a sigh. She had begin to depend on Thor, even though it was nothing more than a dependence on his presence.
His threat of leaving stirred her, if only because now she would be left with her own pain, confusion; trapped alone with her thoughts and memories, her worries of her future with not only the child, but of her companionship with Clint.
"You needn't feel obligated to be here," she said calmly, hoping he would take the cue to leave. Natasha felt her stomach churn in self-loathing, hating the fact that she had become dependent on someone, least of all Thor. "I am more than capable of going through this alone. I've been through worse and come back better than before."
"Natasha, I feel no true obligation to be here," he said, slowly standing again. "You have made it abundantly clear that you believe you can make it through this on your own."
His words caught her interest. She quirked a brow as she looked at him, a relief over the fact that he challenged her. It gave her something to think about aside from how she now assumed she enjoyed company in her home. "I believe I can?"
Thor sighed. "Natasha, I by no means wish to quash your ability to take care of yourself. I've said this multiple times. It's just—"
She pushed herself off the couch, staring him down. "It's just what?"
There was a pause.
"I'm practically an invalid now?" she inquired calmly, folding her arms across her chest.
"No, Natasha," he said with a defeated sigh. "You must understand that I by no means consider you incapable. I just believe that perhaps since you are with child, my assistance would prove necessary as you certainly cannot maintain a life exactly as it was prior."
Natasha swallowed his words, giving them a careful nod before shrugging.
"You're wrong."
He rolled his eyes. "Because you've been in this exact position before, correct?"
"I've been through worse," she spat out, as if to brag if she had the care to. "I've gone into situations where it was me against fifty men equipped with weapons you couldn't even fathom while I was armed with nothing more than my mind."
She shrugged. "And I walked out the only survivor."
"Natasha," he said with a small sigh. "You are more than competent. You're strong, you're intelligent, and believe me when I say that you truly can handle most things on your own."
There was a pause.
"But no one can handle everything on their own," he said gently. "Especially something like this."
She shrugged nonchalantly, trying to stomach her agitation with him and his idea that she would somehow be unable to handle this without the presence of someone else.
While it angered her, it also ticked at her growing paranoia that she was becoming useless. They shared a connection, granted, and perhaps he could even see she was losing touch with herself, with what made her an asset.
She bit her lower lip, masking her own voice with a small grin. "Get a lot of Midgardians pregnant, Thor?"
He seemed to now be agitated with her.
"That is not what I meant," he said with a sigh.
"But you did mean that you believe I cannot handle this on my own," she said back robotically. "And that could not be further from the truth, I'll have you know."
He shrugged slightly, abandoning the attempt to prove his use around there. "Then perhaps I should go, if I truly am useless to you here."
She felt her mouth twitch, but she said nothing.
His voice became gentler as he looked at her, seeming to understand that he had in fact pricked a nerve within her. "I will still come to check up on you, the child," he said, his voice quieter. "But perhaps my constant presence is proving to be more of a hindrance than anything else. And this is your home, if you do not wish me to be here, say so."
Natasha felt herself tense at his words, her cheeks begin to flush with an anger directed not at him, but at herself. She knew she should tell him to leave, to go home and to return to his life on Asgard and pay her and the child no heed. She knew she could handle it; she knew that she could make due on her own and that everything could be fine, but she couldn't force herself to tell him to go.
She hated herself for it; there was no reason to have him there at all. They'd barely spoken since he began residing there, they knew practically nothing about each other yet she couldn't tell him to go.
She credited it to the change in her hormones, and nothing else. If she could survive Clint leaving, she could certainly cope with Thor leaving.
He was almost a stranger, one she only connected with out of convenience. And sooner or later the connection would fade, only be present in the most dire of situations.
And Natasha wondered for a moment if she wanted that to happen. She was better off alone, yes, but it hurt her to potentially lose another friend.
Another bond. She hated herself for thinking of it that way, that she could become accustomed to company.
He glanced at her tense expression, assuming her answer. "Do you want me to stay?"
She felt her breath quicken slightly as her jaw locked and she looked at him.
Natasha did not want to say anything, she didn't even want to look at him right now. Her nerves were shot, her body was tense and her heart was pounding. The pregnancy had already begin to take a toll on her emotions, clearly, as she could no longer mask them with the proficiency she once had. The last thing she needed was Thor around, who had already dissected her insides once, tearing out her pain and anger for the world to see.
She swallowed, thinking of Clint and how he had left, how she had hurt him and made him leave.
Natasha wasn't built for friendship.
"Yes," she said flatly, her eyes heated and focused.
He seemed surprised. "You do?"
"It's nothing personal," she stated emotionlessly, looking at him. "Your presence isn't a burden, it's a distraction, one that I welcome in the chaos that is now my life."
He looked at her for a long time, almost as if he did not know how to take her words, confused as to whether he should be insulted by her admission that he served no more purpose than a children's toy or saddened that he was relatively useless.
Perhaps he should feel relieved that he could at least remain around long enough to tend to his child or Natasha if the need presented itself.
When he failed to speak, Natasha decided to take the opportunity to further explain the situation. "Why are you with me now?"
He looked at her as if it was obvious.
"Exactly," she said stoically, reading the expression on his face. "We don't want to be in this situation, yet we remain here out of necessity. We cannot allow things to become personal because that will only lead to a problematic future."
He said nothing.
"It's just a few more months," she said, her voice still dry and calm. "And soon the baby will be born and it can return with you to Asgard. And we can both go our separate w—"
"You're wrong," he cut her off.
She frowned. "How am I wrong?"
He was insane if he thought she would follow him to Asgard. His life was not hers to share. They needed to depart, lead separate lives in order to prosper. She couldn't fathom what she had been wrong about.
"I do…care," he said quietly. "About you."
She watched him, not expecting the words and therefore not knowing what to do with herself, with her words, her body.
He saw her nearly stunned expression and decided to explain. "Natasha, I cannot state you mean nothing to me," he said. "Granted, I do not hold you in a romantic regard—which I see you are relieved about as I assumed you would be—but to say you are nothing more than a consequence of a stupid act is not true."
Natasha sighed, processing the words in her mind before reacting. His confession, while at first startling, soon proved to be an admission of him holding her in a respectful regard, something she could deal with. Still, she was not accustomed to people—with the exception of Clint—admitting they cared about her.
She was a tool, not something to be loved nor understood, yet Thor and Clint had clearly understood and empathized with her.
She nodded in Thor's direction. "I appreciate that," she said calmly, keeping her arms folded across her chest. "That will probably make you living here a lot more…tolerable."
"What more could you ask for in a distraction?" he asked with a small smile, though she could tell her remark from earlier had mildly offended him.
She wanted to apologize for it, but decided against it, for she could fathom no other reason as to why she kept him around.
No logical reason anyway.
She smirked slightly, shrugging at his remark as she walked into the kitchen, trying to figure out what to pull together for dinner.
She'd ordered out.
Natasha had wanted Chinese all day, been craving it for lack of a better word, and had decided ordering out would be the best way to satisfy that craving, as well as not have to deal with a huge mess in the kitchen.
They'd had a relatively quiet meal on her coffee table in front of the television, not really saying much aside from an occasional comment on the food or what was on the screen.
Their discussion earlier in the day had alleviated some of the perpetual tension constantly between them. They had almost mildly enjoyed the dinner, had it not been for the awkwardness and forcedness of their time together, still lingering in the air between them.
Once the dinner had mostly wrapped up, Natasha glanced at him with a curious eye. For once, she felt an impulse to ask Thor something without the worry it would make their situation worse.
She genuinely wanted to figure him out, to understand him. His responses as of late had a way of getting under her skin and making her emotional, and perhaps once she figured him out their conversations could become something she'd expect, grow used to and cease having emotional outbursts towards.
That is how she rationalized the action anyway.
"Do you like going home?" she asked him outright, during one of the silent periods between their comments.
He took a moment to think about his answer before he spoke. "Yes and no," he admitted with a small smile. "Why do you ask?"
"Simply gathering information," she replied automatically.
He nodded as if he expected it, taking the moment to elaborate on his answer. "It is nice to see my friends, family…" his voice trailed off, his eyes slightly distant as the word stuck in the room.
She nodded. It had been the reaction she expected.
"Your brother," she replied.
"Yes, Loki," Thor stated, his voice much quieter and wistful as he talked about his brother. "His fate is not truly unjust, yet…I know that had it not been for me, for my stupidity, Loki would not have to bear this burden."
Despite her hope she would remain removed from the conversation, Natasha could not help but chime in.
"He made his own choices," she said. "He knows the difference between right and wrong."
"Yes, but which right and which wrong?" Thor argued softly. "I am the one who instilled in him his beliefs that power and fear went hand in hand as the right thought, that to be king one had to be rash and impulsive. It is from me Loki learned that violence and force is the way to win wars, to win worlds. It is I that have damned him to an eternal imprisonment in the home we once shared as brothers."
He glanced at her stomach before looking in front of him again. "Loki is one of many who have had to suffer due to me, my stupidity."
Natasha watched him with a careful eye, forgetting for a moment she meant to interrogate him, his words instead striking a chord within her, memories of the conversation they had that night together flooding back to her.
Thor was in a constant state of pain, his entire being focused on protecting Loki, the earth, and now protecting her and the child as well. Everyone he believed he was responsible for.
Natasha empathized with his pain, similarly to the first night, only this time she refused to unmask her own pain. She refused to connect their problems, find too many similarities and mesh it together and create further confusion and ache
No, Natasha only understood the pain, nothing more than that.
Natasha was not one to make false promises, to coddle someone and pretend things would be all right, especially when a situation looked bleak.
She leaned in slightly, folding her arms on the table as she got closer to him.
"Don't," she said simply, quietly. "You did what you could—"
He glanced at her skeptically. "But it was too late—"
"No," she cut him off, now wondering if she was speaking to her own pain or his, or if she was using his own situation to mask her own discomfort with who she was, what she had done. "You tried, and you keep trying. That's what matters."
"Is it?" he inquired, though the question may have been rhetorical and he sought no real answer. "I would have thought you said results are what counted most."
She shrugged, sitting back slightly. "You can't attain results if you give up."
There was a long silence between them, but it was comfortable unlike the other silences. This time, it seemed that her words had meant something, had brought some further comfort to the situation they were in.
Thor finally spoke. "May I ask you something?"
Natasha took his plate and put it on top of hers, trying to clean up their dining area. "It would seem fair after I interrogated you," she said. "Sure."
He smirked slightly. "Why were you gathering information on me?"
She was going to admit to gathering information to use it later to distance herself from him if need be.
But she felt no need to remind him he was not truly welcomed, that he served as a distraction. That he was not welcome, that she didn't need or want him there. Loki served as a constant reminder of those things daily.
Why further isolate Thor?
She shrugged, the right corner of her mouth lifting slightly as she continued to clean around them. "I wanted to know."