The Vertiginous Thrill of Exactitude

Chapter Five

"Uh…"

"Hello Siri. Nice to see you again."

"Hi. Jarvis. How are you?"

"I am well. Thank you for asking. I trust you are in good health?"

"Er, no actually. I've had the flu."

"Have you? I'm sorry to hear that."

The elevator began to ascend before I expected, throwing me off balance and making me feel like I ate rocks for lunch. I had been expecting to have to look into a retina scanner or give fingerprints or something. "What happened to the security measures?"

"What do potential international terrorist and most customer service call centers have in common?" He said as if he were telling a joke.

"Uh-"

"Speech analytics. The same technology that the CIA and NSA use to listen in on calls domestically and abroad searching for signs of terrorist activity. You know, your call may be recorded for quality assurance purposes?"

I didn't even know where to start to reply.

"There's a microphone and a camera to your left." he said with a sigh. "I hope you are feeling better soon. And happy birthday."

"Thank you." I stumbled out of the elevator, utterly confused about my interaction with Jarvis.

Luckily there were fewer people that I was expecting. Most of them were men who looked like S.H.I.E.L.D agents in suits and ties. Apparently their work and party clothes were the same. I searched the room for a familiar face and found Tony Stark, arms folded as he listened with a frown to Bruce Banner, who was using big hand motions to explain something. Natasha stood nearby with a short, tight black dress and nonplussed look on her face, listening to Bruce. Pepper stood nearby, phone to ear as usual. She had a business to run; it was amazing she even had time to plan this party. She spotted me first and waved me over with a long elegant hand. A ring caught the light a winked.

I slipped past the suits, who smelled like three types of cologne, and paid me no attention. A burst of laughter washed though the room, emanating from a group of agents, for that's what they had to be, all clustered around a wet bar.

I hadn't seen this floor before. It looked like it had been specifically designed for parties, with sleek couches positioned strategically into a few sitting areas, a pool table, and wall-sized windows that looked out to the quickly fading day. City lights embedded in the night like diamonds as far as I could see, out over the river and into Brooklyn.

"It's the birthday girl! Somebody get me a shot," Tony said, cutting Bruce off mid sentence as I approached.

"Hey," I said. I held out a bottle of wine with a fancy label. Tonight wasn't just my birthday party, it was a housewarming party for Tony and Pepper, as they had moved to New York from Malibu after Tony gave up his shiny arc reactor.

"Happy, erm, you-live-in-New-York-now," I said, still holding the bottle out stiffly for someone to take off my hands.

"Gee, thanks." Tony said eyes the label. "Pepper?" She took the bottle of wine between her elbow and side-body, as one hand had a cell phone and the other a martini.

"You feeling any better?" Natasha asked.

I had texted her this morning, telling her I was not going to run, and she had left me alone after I told her I was not going to make it again.

After calling in to the rehearsals planned for the day and telling them I was too sick to come in, I spent the day pulling together a reel of my recent performances. I emailed choreographers back and forth for the footage. I wasn't great at putting together movies on my laptop, but I had taken a class in college that had required us to make a dance performance reel. I had my old reel, but every time I looked at that Siri, I thought about how much she wasn't me. Or I wasn't her. Not anymore. So I fiddled with transitions and cutting video until my eyes hurt. I napped, nibbled on crackers, and threw them up. I took Pogo out, threw up in a garbage bin on the curb and retreated from the bright sunlight. I fell asleep again until about one hour before the party started.

"Yes, thanks." I felt great now, actually. Just tired. I was tired from being tired. Laying in bed all day could be exhausting.

"You've been sick?" Banner asked.

"She won't go to a doctor." Natasha told on me.

"I am feeling great. How are you?" I tried turning the conversation over with an attempt at a smile.

"I'm good, thanks." Bruce replied. "There's a nasty bug going around I hear."

"She's been puking for days." Natasha said.

"Can we please talk about something other than me being sick?" God, I was tired of being scrutinized by all these old, rich, and famous people.

"I thought I heard your melodious voice." Anouk voice came with hug from behind. Her perfume enveloped and I felt happy again. I turned around Phil Coulson stood behind her with a polite smile and lipstick on his collar.

"Happy Birthday, Siri," he said. "Rodgers said to tell you hello."

It was my birthday, and it was Tony and Pepper's housewarming, but it was also Steve's going away party, and he was missing it. He chose Washington DC over me. He might be moving, but I wasn't about to. I was a dancer and had a short opportunity in my life to pursue my career. I wasn't just going to follow him to the capitol and sit by myself waiting till he came. That wasn't an option. He knew it. He didn't ask me to come with him. He wouldn't dare ask me to follow him to DC, let me wait for him all day.

We had it planned out. He would come visit me as often as he could. And I would take a plane to meet him. And we'd live long distance until…until…we hadn't got that point in the discussion yet without a meltdown on either end. There are two ends to a relationship. Happily (or mostly happy) ever after, or go our separate ways. If we could just hang on until…until….again, I didn't know.

I smiled, thanked Coulon, and excused myself to find something to drink.

The elevator doors almost closed before I could step out, but once I did step, I found myself in the deep end. I could feel the ghosts of the Battle of New York like a breeze. The furniture was upright, the windows intact, the floor clear of glass, but I my vision flickered with the memory of what it looked that day almost one year ago. I realized that my old friend, anxiety, had been trailing me, waiting for the first drops of blood. Teeth sank into my heart as I stood on top of New York City.

The promise of cool air drew me out onto the deck. I unlocked the glass door and the smell of the city, the smell of home, blew into the room. I stepped out, a speck on the top of Stark Tower.

I couldn't stop the images playing out. Luke's blood on my bare legs. Loki's smile as he gouged out the old man's eye. My metal boot-leg. Amora's kiss. A drawer had been opened, or pandora's box, filled with Polaroids of the bad days, all dumped out in sharp relief, all pictures proving my guilt, my stupidity, my idiocy, my weaknesses. I couldn't make sense of them, couldn't fit them into an order.

"Siri." I turned my head to see Clint Barton with one foot outside and a hand raised at me. "Siri, hey. Why don't you come back inside."

My toes were lined up on the ledge. One step further and I'd be flying. I realized instantly what this looked like. I shook my head, trying to clear my throat to tell him that I hadn't meant to get that close to the edge, and I had no thoughts of trying to make myself dissapear.

And even if I had wanted that, as an Asgardian, I am not sure I would succeed.. And even if I was physically able to hurt myself permanently, there were at least a couple people who could probably catch me before I hit the street.

But that wasn't the issue. The issue was that it looked like I had been thinking about committing suicide. I could see it in Clint's face; he thought I was depressed to the point of jumping off Stark Tower at my own birthday party.

"I didn't mean to," I told Clint, feeling wrongfully accused.

"It's ok. Just come back inside."

I wasn't going to face them and their questions and their pity and confusion. I didn't want to explain myself. I wouldn't know where to begin. Why was I there, on the deck, by myself? I didn't know what to say. I saw faces on the other side of the glass. Nat's lips were pursed in disappointment. Tony was half-dressed in his Ironman suit, and was gripping Pepper's arm with an unreadable look. Pepper's eyes were swimming. Banner looked haunted. Why was Clint the one out here with me? He and I had hardly spoken one-on-one.

"Don't you dare, Siri," He was sounding less compassionate by the second. Anger laced his tone.

"I'm not!" I sounded petulant as I put my hands in the air, as if to say I surrender.

"Sit down."

I gaped at him. He was treating me like a child. Or a dog. I sat anyway, and just to spite him, I sat with my legs dangling over the edge. He sat next to me, waving at the others. I stared at them as they left. Tony looked mad as he dragged Pepper away.

"Ok. Talk." Clint said.

"About what?"

"I will put you over my shoulder and bring you to the NYU psychiatric ward."

I sputtered, heart pounding. "Oh My God. You are taking this way too seriously. I was just…the fresh air. I wasn't going to jump! God! I was out here just looking at the lights."

"Why didn't you answer me?"

I looked at him, confused.

"When I found you out here, staring down the edge."

"I don't know. I was thinking. I didn't hear you. I'll get my ears checked."

"Thinking about what?"

"None of your business."

"Ok. Let's go." He stood up, hitched a pant leg and literally threw me over his shoulder. I screamed. And started crying. He set me down and watched me do my best to staunch the tears that wouldn't stop leaking. I sobbed for a good minute, angry and annoyed and confused. He pulled me in and hugged me. I didn't realize he cared for me at all. We were practically strangers.

"You ready to talk?"

No I thought. "Okay."

He waited.

"Steve's moving." I started. This is what he wants to hear. Why is Siri might be sad. "He's moving to Washington DC, and I am staying here."

"What else?"

"I…what?"

"What else?"

I didn't want to go any further, but I knew he was serious about sticking me in the mental hospital. Could he do that? If he told them I was trying to kill myself, probably. "I feel sad?"

"Why?"

"Because I've lost everything!" How could he understand. He didn't know me at all. "I can't dance as well as I used to. I don't have any family. Steve is leaving me. My whole life is a lie. I don't even know who I am supposed to be. I feel like a failure. I am a failure."

"What else?"

"What do you mean!" I felt my hands shaking. I was so mad.

"What else."

"I think something's wrong with me." I blurted.

He waited then, looking out into the streets far below. A wind picked up and the smell of city blew over us for a moment.

"What do you think is wrong?"

"I don't know." I wanted to leave it at that, it was totally none of his business, but my mouth ran away with me. It was on a track, and now that the train had picked up momentum I couldn't stop the words. "I don't feel like a person anymore. Ever since…well you know. Germany. And New York. And Aspen. I just keep running through it all as fast as I can. I am so tired, but I can't sleep. And it's not anxiety. I know what that is, and it's not anxiety. Steve is going to leave me and I will be alone. And I've been sick for weeks and I'm gonna get cut from a show if I miss another rehearsal."

I sniffed, wiping snot across the back of my hand. My makeup was definitely ruined.

After another minute Clint answered."I don't know a lot about the dance part, but it sounds like you need to take better care of yourself. You need to let yourself recover."

I made a noise that resembled a bark.

"Hey, Listen. I know about these things. You're just a kid. You need to eat three square meals a day. With vegetables. Drink water, and get sleep. You can try to work it out with Steve. But Siri, maybe he's not the only one out there for you."

I opened my mouth to argue.

"Just hear me out. If you and Steve don't stay together, it's going to be ok. You're young. And you do have family. Pepper, Nat. Even Tony. Banner. We're your family. And you do have a family. Even if they are aliens. I hear they would be thrilled to have you home. You have options. This isn't the end of the road."

I listened, then we sat in silence. I waited to feel regret about spilling my heart out to Clint, but all I felt was relief. He was right. I knew it. I wasn't going to promise anything, but I knew he was right. I hadn't been taking care of myself.

"How did you know I was up here?" I tried to lighten the mood incrementally. I really wanted to stop crying in front of Hawkeye.

"I saw you."

I was silent. I didn't know him very well. Nat loved him like a brother, but I hadn't gotten the chance to get close to him. It didn't feel right; he sort of seemed like a private guy. I felt a softening of my heart knowing that he had noticed me.

"I see a lot." Clint said. "You ready to go back inside?"

I nodded and he helped me up.

"Don't tell Steve." I whispered.

"Don't tell him what?" Clint asked, a hint of anger back. "What was that, anyway?"

"I don't know. But it's gone, I think. I wasn't trying to jump."

He didn't answer, but turned to head back in. We stepped inside to find Nat waiting alone, her phone to her ear. She hung up without saying bye.

"You ready to go home?" She asked me.

I nodded. "The party..."

"Your little show was a bit of a buzz kill. Everyone left," she said dryly.

"Oh my God." Would I never stop embarrassing myself in front of the Avengers? "It wasn't even…" I couldn't finish the thought; my jaws were too tight and my tongue too dry.

"I promised Steve I'd keep an eye on her," she said to Clint without looking at me.

"No arguments." Clint said in his voice of authority before I could protest. He softened then, "Be kind to yourself, kiddo."

Nat kept her promise and went home with me in a Stark car. I groped in the dark for words in the passenger seat. Most of what I came up with started with a curse word and sounded petty even in my mind. She was broody, and I kept catching her staring at me like she was disappointed. This only infuriated me further. Who did these people think they were?! Didn't they have more globally important issues to think about? They should have just left me alone and stopped meddling. Why did they even care? It was like having one of those big crazy...families.

"You can go now," I said when we reached my front door. I fumbled for my keys.

"Nope."

"Seriously. I'm fine. That wasn't not what it looked like."

"Then what was it?"

"I was just up there...I had to. I just wanted to know... I hadn't been on the roof since the invasion and I had to see it. Or something. I don't know! I don't know what it was, okay?!" I was yelling at her.

She folded her arms and waited for me to let her inside.

"Fine. I have to walk Pogo."

We walked around the block silently, awkwardly, and then returned to my apartment. She showed no signs of leaving or starting up conversation again as I fed my dog and watched him eat for lack of knowing what to do. I scooped Pogo up when he finished crunching down the pellets of dogfood, and stood in the kitchen rubbing his soft fur. I tried to ignore her as she sat on my couch texting.

"Do you want something to sleep in?" I asked finally breaking the tension like a rubber band. I said it mostly jokingly. I couldn't imagine the beautiful strong super hero, the very opposite of me, in a set of my pjs.

She looked up from her phone and gazed at me for a long moment as if she were listing and examining my shortcomings again. She sighed, threw the phone on to the cushion of the couch and said, " Yeah. Thanks."

That's how I ended up in bed with the Black Widow, my dog burrowed in between us. I fell asleep quickly despite her presence and the weight of all that had happened that day, but woke up in the night sweating, heart pounding.

I was supposed to be done with these panic attacks. I told myself I was fine and forced deep breaths in and out. What had I been dreaming? It was all black in the room, except the stripes of light on the wall from the street lamp outside. I could hear Nat breathing steadily, just short of a snore. Pogo, sensing I was awake, set his tail thumping on the mattress, ready for a morning walk.

I looked at my phone; it was only half past twelve. And then it hit me. I knew what was wrong. I threw the covers off and stood up.

"What is it?" Nat asked, her voice like cold honey.

"I have to go to the store."

"What?" She hissed, checking the time.

"I have to go to the store."

"I heard that. What are you talking about? It's the middle of the night."

"I think I'm pregnant." I was pulling on sweat pants, wondering if I had to put a bra on to go the 24hr pharmacy.

She stood up, then, and pulled her dress and jacket back on without a word. She looked perfect, of course, like she had just stepped out of a salon. We took Pogo with us as we walked the five blocks to the nearest 24hr. We blinked in the fluorescent light, squinting down long lines upon lines of products.

"Which one?" I asked.

"I don't know." She picked up one box. It was pink and had a gold seal on it, like a badge of authority. "This one looks good."

I grabbed three different brands and paid for them without looking the cashier in the face.