Me: I've already apologized, so I'll keep this short. I'm sorry, I'll do my best from now on. On to the story!
Tony: It's about time. Was that long enough for you, huh?
Me: Stop interrupting me. Remember what happened last time you misbehaved?
Tony: **pales and gulps** Right, sorry.
Me: As I said, on with the story!
Chapter 10
The warm slant of sunshine on Alyssa's face woke her slowly. The stabbing aches in her head, arms and stomach were not so kind. She hissed softly, swallowing around the bitter taste in her throat. Her ears tuned immediately to the sounds of four distinct voices outside her, well, Aidan's room.
"She'll be available for visits when I say so, not before." That was Fury's authoritative tone. "So following the agent assigned to guard her was way out of line." Alyssa snapped as much to attention as she could through her pounding headache and nausea. She really had to try some water or something; this dehydration was doing nothing for her.
"If she wanted to see you, she would tell me." That was Aidan, his Italian work accent hard and furious. His next words were barely audible, but laced with pure anger. "She chose me, not you." Who was he talking to? Alyssa swallowed again, harshly, and almost missed the next words.
"Why don't you ask her for her opinion before you speak for her?" Natasha's firm voice elicited a coo from one of the babies. Alyssa froze, at once furious, terrified and slightly relieved. They had tracked her here, to her safe haven, her only sanctuary. But that meant they cared right? She shook herself slightly. She didn't deserve love.
She sat up suddenly, head spinning. Her stomach flipped and she retched, dry heaving a few times. Nothing came up of course. She hadn't eaten anything in almost a week, as her weak body kept reminding her.
Aidan was at her side almost instantly, followed closely by Clint and Natasha. Fury, for whatever reason, remained in the living room. Alyssa took a few deep breaths to settle herself, then fixed her most acidic glare on the assassins. Clint looked hurt, but Natasha's icy stare quenched all of Alyssa's tentative fire and she slumped, exhausted. Aidan cranked up his own flame to the max, not quite touching but clearly shielding his partner's weak frame with his own body. Clint swallowed, then spoke in a voice that was barely restraining tears.
"Please Lyss," She visibly flinched at the pet name. "We're worried sick, everyone is." She shuddered with a silent sob and Clint felt his throat close off. Natasha butted in, completely ignoring the glare from Aidan that would have incinerated almost anyone else.
"Bruce doesn't eat, Tony and Cap don't sleep, Jane and Pepper cry all the time and Clint actually beat me in a sparring match yesterday because I couldn't focus." Her tone was at once firm and gentle. "We don't care about ourselves, but your pain is killing us. Even Thor refused to go to the Lion King production you go tickets for because Jane wouldn't get out of bed." Her eyes flashed. "Jane is pregnant. Do you think distancing yourself is helping her?" Alyssa was sobbing openly now, and Aidan's fingers were twitching, begging to close around a knife hilt or gun.
"Please, just let us talk with you. Hold Alek and Anya. They cry all night because you aren't there to sing to them." Clint's fragile control broke and his voice shook with a sob at the end. Alyssa stilled and Aidan's worried glance darted to her. She let out one more wracking sob, then sniffled and spoke so low, Aidan had to pass the message on.
"Promise you won't barge in again?" Clint hummed an affirmative. "Promise you won't tell the others where I am?" A pause, then Natasha gave an affirmative as well. With what seemed a Herculean effort, Alyssa straightened and leaned back against the headboard. She painfully twisted her arms so her palms were up. Aidan whispered something to her in Italian that the others didn't catch and Alyssa nodded tiredly in response. As her eyes slid closed, Aidan's jaw worked, and then he spoke.
"One at a time. The other needs to wait in the other room. Put the baby in her lap. She can't hold them yet." The instructions were terse and short. Clint nodded, turning to go, but Natasha pulled him back, looking him in the eye, then nodding toward the bed.
You need this more than I do. Her look clearly said. He took her hand and squeezed it.
Thanks. She smiled briefly and he sat on the chair Aidan had pulled to the side of the bed. He watched the Italian settle with his back against the closet door, watching the proceedings with an eagle eye. Clint felt briefly annoyed, then remembered he had barged into this man's home and insisted on bothering the person he was protecting. Aidan had every right to watch this.
Clint laid his small daughter on Alyssa's lap, resisting the urge to let his hand grip her knee in an attempt at comfort. She stiffened, relaxing only when Clint said his own name and Anya's quietly. Alyssa's left hand lifted, pointer finger extended as she trailed her finger along the baby's face. A small smile lifted her lips, even if it didn't reach her closed eyes.
"How old are they now?" She whispered. Clint cleared his throat of the telltale lump blocking his voice.
"Almost five months." He said, his eyes roaming over the girl who was like a little sister to him. Still pale, still weak, still pained and even thinner than before. She looked like a broken rag doll with the stuffing pulled out. The normal energy and light that animated her hands and face were gone, drained away like the blood that had spilled from her arms. Except for the subtle rise and fall of her chest and the single finger brushing Anya's cheek, she could have been dead. Clint gulped, emotion overwhelming him.
"What can I do?" He choked. "It's killing me to do nothing." She sighed in response, almost imperceptibly.
"Tell the others I'm doing better. Tell them I'm safe and take care of yourselves so I can focus on getting better." Clint sniffed.
"Okay." He hesitated. "Do you want to see Nat now?" She nodded slightly, as though a full nod was beyond her current capacities. Clint lifted the baby, using the moment to gently kiss the top of Alyssa's head. She seemed not to notice. He walked into the living room, fighting tears, and kissed his wife on the forehead.
"See if you can figure out what she want to eat." He whispered. She nodded and went in. Clint barely noticed the minutes ticking past or the deadly glare of Fury's eye on him as her sunken cheeks and jutting bones flickered through his mind. She was so sick. Could she really go on like this?
Natasha came out with moist eyes. She took a deep breath and Clint raised his eyebrow.
"She says that if Bruce were to come on Sunday, she may be able to stomach some of his peppermint cocoa. She also said she'd try to eat something today." Clint let out a breath of relief.
"That's the day after tomorrow. He'll be so happy." He said, glancing at Aidan. "May we bring him then?" The man sighed.
"One of you may bring him, as long as he adheres to the rules." The words were heavy with warning. "She also has the right to turn both of you away at the door." The two nodded. It would have to do.
"Deal."
The taxi ride home was quiet, the two babies lulled to sleep by the hyponotic sway of the dangling pendants on their parents' necks.
"We shouldn't have followed that agent." Clint mused.
"But it's a good thing we did." Natasha countered. Silence reigned momentarily.
"Do you remember the first time we protected each other like that?" She breathed. Clint laughed softly, humming an affirmative.
"As I recall, I did it first." She nudged him painfully in the side, then smiled softly.
"Yes you did, and it saved me." She answered.
"And it will save her, just you wait." Clint whispered, with finality.
Aidan sighed and rubbed his temples as Fury followed the Hawk and Widow out of his door. He suppressed a growl. How dare they? Resisting the urge to stomp into his room where Alyssa lay, he scanned her critically from the doorway.
She was pale and tired, but something about her seemed different, brighter almost. Her breathing was deeper and more even than if had been in days and her face was less creased from pain. He realized she was humming softly, not any particular tune, but soothing and slow. He was loathe to break the moment, but he had to try to get her to eat something.
He took two audible steps into the room and winced as she stiffened, then cracked one eye open.
"Your Majesty, perhaps we can try some Jello with strawberries this morning." He said, switching to a flawless British accent. She almost smiled.
"I don't know how well it will work, but I should probably try, huh?" He knew she knew his answer so he just moved forward a bit more, in case she asked from help. She sighed and her muscles tensed as she sat up, incrementally. She breathed deeply a couple of times and swung her legs over the side of the bed. Standing alone proved to be an impossible task, however. Aidan helped her stand, then held her up by an arm around her waist as she laboriously stumbled to the couch in the living room.
Once she was set up there, Aidan went to the fridge and pulled out a small container of strawberry Jello. He topped it with fresh-cut strawberries and a perfect flower of whipped cream. He filled a glass with water and brought it out to his partner. She had turned on a random kids cartoon and was staring listlessly at the source of the sounds. Gently, he set the spoon in her left hand and the Jello in the other.
The first bite took the longest, as though she wasn't sure how her body would react. But after ensuring it wasn't about to come back up, she steadily worked through the entire bowl, sipping the water between bites. They waited to see how it would settle, then she ate a piece of toast with honey as well.
For the first time in a long time, she seemed content, listening to the cartoon. Aidan decided now was a good time to ask the question that had been burning in him for so long.
"Why did you do it?" He asked, studying the scowl that twitched the corners of her lips. She didn't want to have this conversation.
"My arms?" She suddenly asked, unnecessarily. He hummed a yes, recognizing the ploy to put off answering. She sighed. "A price was required. A toll of blood to balance the scales." Aidan was confused.
"What do you mean?" She sighed again, sinking under the pressure of something Aidan couldn't see.
"Five hundred and eighteen missions in the last three years, all but six unqualified successes." He waited and she continued, her voice tinged with self-hatred. "Two hundred and sixty three deaths. Two hundred and sixty three hearts stopped. Two hundred and sixty three lives cut short." She cried out suddenly, as though in great pain, scratching desperately at her bandaged arms. Aidan felt sick, not at the number, but at the undisguised anguish on her features.
"You're an agent of SHIELD. Things happen. It's your…" She interrupted him, seeming not to have heard him.
"I've only paid for twenty two." She gasped. Without thought, Aidan surged forward, gathering her in his arms, cradling her against his chest. She sobbed against him for a few minutes, then began taking deep breaths, forcing herself to calm although all she wanted to do was cry.
" Let it out." Aidan urged. "You can cry. It's okay." She shook her head violently.
"I don't deserve to cry. I'm a killer." Aidan pulled her away form his chest, studied her, then pulled her close again.
"That makes me a killer too, I guess." He said. Suddenly, he pulled a switchblade from his back pocket and yanked his left arm out from under her. He flicked the blade open, audibly, so she heard the sound. She gasped.
"I guess I've got two hundred and thirteen cuts to go. I'd better get started." She screamed, grabbing his left hand and cradling it close to her chest so her couldn't cut. He stopped.
"Please don't Aidan. Please. I couldn't bear it if…" She gulped and he completed the sentence.
"If I cut too deep? If I severed a tendon or a nerve and couldn't use my hand anymore? If I killed myself?" the last phrase was whispered. Alyssa's eyes flew wide as realization hit her. She pulled away from Aidan, shaking.
"I hurt them when I did it." She breathed. "I almost died and my father and Clint and Tasha almost had to watch it." Her face turned to pure horror as one last thought hit her. "Steve probably blames himself. He tried to stop me…" Fresh tears filled her eyes. She forced them away.
"How can I face them?" Aidan squeezed her hand.
"By realizing it's not your fault and getting better." It wasn't an answer, not really, but she nodded. Almost at the same time, she shook her head.
"But how do I forgive myself?" Aidan's throat choked. He still hadn't forgiven himself for leaving his sister.
"I don't know." He cleared his throat. "But we'll learn together nee-chan (A/N: Japanese, little sister)." She started, then leaned into him again, letting the tears fall.
"Thank you." She whispered.
Me: Read, review, forgive, questions, requests. You get the gist.