A/N: *peeks from behind a table*
Hi... So, I am really sorry for not updating earlier. I was busy and this story just slipped my mind. I know, shame on me. But hopefully, I'm back.
Thanks to all the folks that reviewed: Dark Universe, Shadow The Assassin, Andrewthegreat1 and Novrier.
Also, I apologize if Natasha's OOC. She is one of the hardest characters I had to write about so be gentle with me *winks*.
Through life, I've met many people.
It always seemed that I had that 'likable' personality, because it was always easy for me to make friends. It was in my nature, it was something I liked, despite my shyness.
I was like any other young person, curious about the world around him that looked so big and beautiful, waiting for me to explore it.
I admired some people and I respected them for the things they did, and soon enough, for me they became heroes that gave me hope for this world.
In my eyes, they became those idols people talk about, those perfect people whose every step and every decision was right.
But then everything changed.
Time passed, my life turned upside down, and those heroes in my eyes proved to be nothing but a simple trick, a cruel illusion.
There was no justice, nobility or loyalty in them. They weren't brilliant anymore as they showed their true faces - distorted by envy and greed.
It was a hard blow to a person whose life was always cruel and who had only one hope that kept him sane through his life.
Hope that the heroes he believed in were real and then one day they would save him from the darkness.
I think that's the reason why I always tried to make myself that hero that will one day save someone who is just as lost as I was in the beginning.
But then the Other Guy came and I learned my lesson the hard way:
Don't make people into heroes. Heroes don't exist and even if they did, I wouldn't be one of them.
Bruce Banner
There is one thing that we fail to hide every time we try to, despite how hard we try.
It is that moment when we're crippled inside, when there is a void in our chest where our heart should be.
You might think its crazy, or you may say that you can hide it because it's not something people can see, something that is out there, in the open, for the world to see.
But you are greatly mistaken if that's what you think.
Even though our hearts are hidden in our chest, one can always see when someone's heart is in pieces. It could be seen on their faces, in their actions and words that used to be so much more, but in that moment, they are separated from the feelings and the usual warmth that used to colored them.
And it is sad when you see a person like that, especially if that's someone you knew all about. That way, you know what they used to be, how bright and happy they were once, when they were whole.
The thick veil of fog came upon the city, finding its way through the narrow streets and large buildings, with a light drizzle that brought a dash of freshness into the gloomy night. The moon that was shining in the endless sky was big and bright, without a single cloud to block its light. The night was so pure and perfect, and it felt like the world stopped turning for a second, admiring the beauty of the night in front of them.
Every breath that echoed through the street was louder than ever in the complete silence that surrounded them. They were covered with shadows, the colors around them becoming dull and worn, except for their eyes that shone with the mysterious light.
A pair of blue eyes shimmered on the moonlight, the emotions in them fighting to be seen as she covered them with cold posture and tight mask. Her whole body was tensed, her muscles clenching and her shoulders back, waiting for any sign of danger. She felt trapped as all the exits around her seemed to be blocked, and she had no option but to wait for what was to come.
Like an antelope trapped by the hungry lions.
Clint watched her as she squirmed under their gazes. He watched carefully, noticing every small detail about her that seemed off, that seemed different. The slight twitching of her hand, the tightness of her lips as she tried to keep her face neutral, the way her legs were waiting to move at command, to run as fast as they can just to get away from them.
He found it hard to swallow from the lump that formed in his throat as he watched the inner battle taking place behind her eyes.
The others tried to follow the silent conversation between the two assassins but the only thing they could do was watch as their facial expressions stayed the same, like they were ice sculptures.
Even Thor, the usually loud God, was silently observing, like he too was afraid to speak and send their teammate into the run by saying the wrong thing. He glanced at Steve and Tony who were right by his side, catching their glances and coming to a mutual agreement, they took a few steps back, giving the others some privacy.
They were aware that it wasn't their battle to fight. They were there to act as a support, but nothing more.
Just the silent support.
Bruce silently stood at his spot, his hands in his pockets as he tried to ignore the cold around him that was passing through his jacket, making him shiver. His curls were moving on the wind and his glasses were at the tip of his nose, but his eyes stayed focused on Natasha's face despite all that.
His gaze didn't waver for a second.
"Natasha, what happened?" It was the first thing that sounded normal in Clint's mind, out of all the spinning questions, buzzing around like a small hurricane, causing chaos in his head and thoughts. He was choosing his words and calculating every possible outcome from fear that he might say something wrong and she would close again, like many years ago when they were still strangers.
He was used to her closing off once in a while, but never like this.
Never with running away.
Her face changed only for a small second, but her eyes still went a little wider and her hands did form a tighter fist, her knuckles becoming snow-white.
Her mind raced with million answers, scenarios and possibilities, but in one moment, it all disappeared. Her mind became blank, all the thoughts taken away by the single sentence that she had only recently found in her head.
I don't want to lie anymore.
And there was no way out for her but that.
…
"Would you like to grab a coffee? Just you and me, in a café I saw only a few blocks away? It seems nice, cozy, and open, as far as I could see."
Like a lightning out of the blue sky, the familiar deep voice snapped everyone's attention to himself, giving her a way out. She could feel her mask slowly failing as she stared at him in surprise, and she managed to muster enough control for a weak nod that sent everyone to another wave of shock.
A light, gentle smile graced Bruce's lips as he titled his head towards the rest of the team, speaking again in that hushed, gentle voice and breaking them from the trance.
"Why don't you guys look around, have some fun? We'll meet here in two hours and then we can to back to the Tower." He pointed in the direction of the café, his face trying to stay casual, but the look in his eyes was almost demanding, ordering them to go and leave it all to him. The first one to notice that hidden message in his eyes was Tony.
"That's an awesome idea, buddy. Hey Thor, Steve, let me introduce you to the Russia's most successful alcohol - vodka!" He threw his hands around both Steve's and Thor's necks, causing them to lean down to his level and follow him to the busy street as he started ranting about the history of vodka and how he met a lots of girls while under its influence.
The voices slowly became distant and in a few minutes, the silence was back again, but this time it didn't last too long as Bruce leaned towards Clint and whispered the quiet words so that Natasha couldn't hear them.
"You have to trust me on this one, Clint. She just needs time." His hushed tone reached Clint's ears and after a few seconds of doubt, he nodded curtly and with one last look towards Natasha and Bruce, he conveyed all his gratitude and faith into it and left, trusting Bruce with the most valuable thing he had in his life - his friendship with Natasha.
She couldn't take her eyes from his retreating form, right after she's seen that look filled with trust that was pointed to Bruce. It was amazing and scary at the same time, how fast Bruce managed to pass through Clint's defenses.
"Shall we?" He took a step backwards, out to the busy street, and she found herself following through the crowd, muttering a soft sorry to everyone she bumped into, as he led her left and right, and then right again, to the small café with dimmed lights.
She noticed how he was always staying close to her, but not close enough to cause discomfort and step over the boundaries.
The café he took her to was small and cozy, the lights dimmed and the scent of coffee and hot chocolate filling the noses of every costumer that stepped in.
He walked to the table in the far corner of the room, near the window, and he waited for her to pick the place before he slid into the seat with a content sigh. It took her a second to realize that he was freezing out there and a small ping of guilt shot through her heart.
"Good evening, how may I help you?" The hyperactive waitress materialized in front of them out of nowhere, with a torn notebook and an obnoxious habit of chewing her gum too loud.
"Hello. I would like black tea and some biscuits and…"
"I'll have a coffee." It was the first time Natasha spoke since they arrived and her tone was grave and sharp, making the waitress stop chewing the gum and gulp rather loudly.
"That would be all, thank you very much." Bruce tried to comfort the girl with a light smile and her grin was back on as she bounced off to the kitchen with their order in her hands, the earlier incident long forgotten, thank God.
Natasha couldn't stop an annoyed snort, making Bruce chuckle lightly, taking off his jacket with an amused glint in his eyes.
"Don't be so harsh, she's just a kid. A slightly too-cheery one, but still a kid." His voice carried a dose of plea so she tried her best not to scare the girl when she brought them their orders.
Well, not scare her too much.
But as soon as the waitress was off, the silence ensued as they sipped their drinks in now empty café. Bruce was looking at her with his eyes soft and his posture relaxed, and he never looked away from her as she sipped the coffee and leaned backwards, trying to sink into her seat.
He looked so relaxed in that chair, his hands playing with a biscuit as he took a sip of his tea, enjoying the warmth traveling down his throat.
She gripped her mug tighter, letting the warmth from the liquid inside spread through her, like her life depended on it. She tried to ignore the silence and his intense glare, but at one point, even though she was a master assassin, she couldn't ignore it anymore.
"You know I didn't want to come here, right?"
"I know." His tone was calm and all-knowing as he answered her question, making her look up into his brown eyes.
"And you know that I won't talk to you about my problems and play the 'therapist-patient' thing, right?"
"I know that too." There was no smugness in his voice, and it was the thing that angered her the most.
He was too good and gentle, it wasn't normal.
She fought the urge to talk once again, but slowly all her masks fell as she listened to his even breathing and the sound of spoon hitting the cup or his hands drawing circles on the table from boredom.
Half an hour passed, and then another and she was becoming more jumpy and nervous.
It was like that whole atmosphere managed to crawl under her skin and she couldn't help but ask the next question, letting her voice sound small and vulnerable for the first time in a while.
"Then why are you doing this?"
What was probably the biggest surprise were his words, when he put down the mug and leaned forwards, his fingers intertwined in front of him, his eyes gentle and the voice soft and understanding, beyond any normal boundary, as he took a deep breath.
"Because... sometimes, it's better to be quiet in someone's company than to be quiet alone. Even when you don't speak, you know that someone's there for you, and it makes it a little better, don't you think?"
She lost the ability to talk for a few moments when she realized how genuine his words were.
He wasn't there to ask her questions, to be the therapist they all thought she needed. He wasn't after her problems, or secrets and weaknesses.
He was there for her, as a friend.
As someone who will have her back when she thought she was all alone.
She could feel tears gathering up in her eyes but she pushed them back, allowing a small smile on her face as she dropped her defenses and took a biscuit from the plate in front of her.
Maybe he wasn't that bad.
Maybe, for once in her life, she can just stay quiet and know that someone was there for her, even through the silence.
It wasn't fair how no one saw it.
All their fake smiles and curious question, all the lies and bluffs…
It's all fake, it's all wrong.
And the pain he feels in his chest just won't go away.
Along with the jealousy, it was eating him alive, he could feel it.
Crawling under his skin, entering his veins and poisoning his blood…
He was all alone, no one was there to help him.
He was all alone when the pain became stronger and came back more often.
He was all alone…
And he had a feeling that he'll be alone to the very end, when the light in his chest starts to fade away.