-Author's Comments -
Hi, guys! Like I said at the end of the last chapter (which was short I know I'm sorry -_- ), I've been kinda busy with life. Recently my boyfriend and I started custody proceedings to get full custody of his wonderful little boy so most of my time is spent with that whole shindig. I have also recently got back into rats – after 5+ years without them. As of right now, I have 3 males and 5 females. Males are Zeus, Hades, and Oscar. Females are Hera, Persephone, Medusa, Artemis, and Aphrodite. And as I'm typing this, Medusa is sleeping in my shirt. The last three are just wee little babies. It's so much fun! I've also rescued a ferret and a gecko in recent months so most of my time is spent between my petting zoo. Hopefully I can get into the swing of things again!
-Chapter 11-
The sun shone through the windows the next morning, a strand of light lying directly on James's eyelids. She groggily sat up, rubbing her eyes gingerly. She hadn't fallen asleep until the wee hours of the morning. A decision, she decided as she sat up, she regretted almost instantly. Curled up on the only blanket on the couch was the kitten, who still hadn't received a name. She stared at the little black fluffball, calling him a few names as she realized his tiny body had taken up not only the blanket but 90% of the couch.
Loki came out of the kitchen, a plate heaped full of eggs, bacon, sausage, and toast, in hand. He smiled at his daughter and set the plate on her lap. The kitten, having been forced from his slumber by the movement and smell of cooked pig, jumped toward the plate. Her mother caught him mid jump, bringing the mewing creature to his chest. James grinned as she watched the kitten try to claw his way out of her mother's grip with very little success.
Loki held the kitten at arm's length, eyeballing the tiny animal. "I do apologize, little panther. But she needs that breakfast more than you do. I bought you some cat food anyways. We talked about this. It resides in the kitchen."
James arched an eyebrow as she grasped her fork in her hand. "You bought him cat food? When did you have the time to go out?"
Loki sat the kitten on the floor and glanced at his daughter. He waited until he took her first bite and swallowed before responding. "Little bird... It is 2 in the afternoon. I've had time to go out and purchase groceries and cat food alike. And I sent a basket of kitten care to your father's house. Lord knows how bad he was with Mr. Fluffles."
James began to tear up slightly. Of course her mother would let her sleep in. She was almost certain that Loki had continued to come out of his room to check on her throughout the night. Even after she had fallen asleep. Her heart felt light here. She was at ease. With a frown, she pushed the remainder of her eggs around her plate. How could she feel so at home here and feel so out of place there?
Was she broken?
Loki strode back into the kitchen, she assumed, to make his own plate. The kitten followed at his heels, trying to attack his feet. James smiled before polishing off her plate. Eggs cooked to perfection. Bacon extra crispy like she enjoyed. Toast was golden brown. It was all perfect... Except her. She wasn't perfect. She was broken. Tarnished. Even sitting in her mother's house, eating the perfect meal, she knew she was still broken. Yet her mother was so happy to see her here. Cooking her meal after meal. Watching childish cartoons with her just like she had never left.
What was she doing? Who was she trying to kid?
"Little bird," Loki muttered as he perched next to her on the couch, "what ever is going through that mind of yours?"
"How?" James asked, heart aching. "How can you act like it was before? You're acting like nothing happened. Like I wasn't... Like I'm not..."
"Not what, love?"
"Broken!"
Loki drew a harsh breath, his startled eyes meeting his daughter's guarded ones. He placed a hand over hers. "James Jay Stark. How dare you ask such a thing?"
"I-"
"No, you will listen to your mother. We all know that horrendous things happened to you. We never doubted that while we searched for you. Hundreds and hundreds of hours were spent trying to find you. And when we couldn't? After each failed attempt at locating you? It destroyed us. Your friend – Birdman, is it? - he told us of what was happening to you that night. It doesn't take a genius to put two and two together, yes? But my love, my beautiful daughter, no matter what happened to you, you are still mine. My daughter. My world. My reason to wake up in the morning. I am not acting as it was before – I know that it will never be as it was before. But I am going to wake up, as I do every morning, and push forward. And if that means I am pushing forward for you, as well, then so be it." He brushed a strand of hair behind her ear. "Little dove, you are stronger than you think. You aren't broken. You aren't dirty. You are still you, no matter what that monster did to you. Don't let him win, my dear. You are stronger than that."
Tears streamed down her face as James hugged her mother. Loki sniffled, fighting back tears himself. His daughter had finally broke down and asked the question that had been plaguing her. And as sobs racked her small frame, Loki held her tighter. She needed to break down. To cry. To scream. She needed time to heal. The fact that she thought she was broken – dirty, even – made him cringe. She was an emerald in a sea of sapphires.
"Hawkeye," she whispered as she pulled away from her mother. "His name is Hawkeye. Not Birdman."
Loki waved a hand in the air disdainfully. "It is the same thing, my love."
James rolled her eyes and pushed off of the couch. The kitten mewed pitifully as she walked past him. She smiled as she bent to pick him up as he purred and butted his head against her leg. Once she pulled him up to her chest, he butted his head against her chin. Loki smiled at the pair, quickly bringing out his cellphone to take a picture. She looked so at peace with that little ball of fur.
"Have you a name for him yet, dear?" Loki asked as he stuffed his phone back in his pocket.
"I haven't even thought to try to pick one out for him," she said as she slipped her shoes on.
"You know what they say," Loki said as he handed her the sweatshirt she had thrown over one of the kitchen chairs the night before, "sometimes ones thought up on the fly are the best names yet."
James placed the kitten on the floor briefly to pull the hoodie over her head. She quickly retrieved the kitten and looked at his green eyes. "Icarus."
Loki scoffed. "You know that Norse gods exist and yet you still pick something Greek?!"
James kissed her father on the cheek before turning to open the door.
"Where are you going?!" Loki asked, startled he hadn't even noticed she was actually leaving until now.
"Home, mama," James said as she began closing the door, cuddling Icarus to her chest. "I'm going home. I have someone I need to thank."
Loki watched her hurry out of his front door. With a sigh, he texted her father that she was on her way home. What an odd child, he humored as he locked the door behind her.
Hawkeye sat in his room, debating on smothering himself with a pillow. He hadn't fallen asleep yet. And it was, he glanced at his watch, almost two in the afternoon. His eyes felt like sandpaper had attacked them. His body ached. His stomach was growling. And his head felt like it was being slammed repeatedly with a sledgehammer.
All because of a girl.
He heard the front door slam shut and excited voices exchange some sort of witty banter. The thought of excited conversation made him want to throw his fist through a wall. With a grunt, he sat up, glaring at his door. He figured it was time to get up and grace the others with his not-so-sunny personality. With a sigh, he got up, walking toward his door. He reached for it just as it swung open – hitting him on the nose.
"Fuck!" he yelled, holding his nose as blood gushed from his nostrils.
"Oh my God I am so sorry!" James quipped, brushing his hands away to apply pressure to his nose as she looked around for tissues. Or toilet paper. Anything. "Ugh. Wait right here!"
Hawkeye stared after her, eyes wide. Why had he gone speechless once she touched his nose? It made no sense. He grimaced as he realized she had just gone into his bathroom – which he hadn't cleaned in a few days. Fuck.
"Princ-"
"I got it!" she yelled as he came out of the bathroom. "I got it. See? I'll fix it." She pressed the tissue to his nose gently, eyeing the blood pouring out of his nostrils. "All...better."
He held his breath as she lifted her eyes to meet his. What the hell was wrong with him? He shook his head, trying to clear it. A strangled noise came out of her throat as she attempted to keep her hand with his nose. With a start, he realized she had put herself off balance and was falling – forward. Oh, shit, he thought as she tumbled into him and they both went down.
"Oof!" she muttered as she landed on top of him.
"Isn't that supposed to be my line?" Hawkeye asked dryly, staring up at the ceiling.
What the fuck is going on, Barton? He asked himself as she struggled to sit up while avoiding his nose.
"I'm so sorry!" she muttered, sitting up, straddling him. She pressed the tissue to his nose again, tongue caught between her teeth. "I am so bad at this whole thank-you thing, huh?"
"Thank you?" he asked, bringing his eyes to meet her gaze. "What the fuck do you mean, thank-you thing?"
