Foggy had arrived at Matt's apartment just after ten o'clock the following morning, allowing Natasha to head out for a run. The air helped to clear her head. This odd little community of loyal friends Matt had around him intrigued her, but Natasha knew she could not stay. Staying would only be putting Matt in danger. He wasn't the kind of guy to back out of a fight, be it in the law courts, in the streets, or on the battlefield. And Natasha knew she would only get him hurt.
Claire dropped by after lunch to check Matt's injuries.
"Everything's looking clean," she said, "And like it's healing nicely."
"Excellent," Foggy said.
"But I still think Matt needs a few more days of bed rest."
"I can go to work," Matt said.
"On Wednesday," Claire replied.
Before she left, Claire helped Natasha create a fake doctor's certificate for Karen to know the 'official' story regarding Matt's latest set of injuries.
"That's not your signature," Foggy said, peering over Natasha's shoulder as she scribbled a name across the bottom of the page.
"No, because signing 'Natasha Romanov' would be stupid," Natasha replied.
"What name did you use?" Matt asked.
"Stephen Strange," Natasha said, inspecting her illegible handiwork.
"Like that's a real name," Foggy said.
Natasha, Foggy and Matt spent the rest of the afternoon watching 'Chitty Chitty Bang Bang'. Natasha had never seen the film, but Foggy, after a couple of beers, and Matt, high on pain killers, appeared to know every word to every song. By the end of the film, Natasha couldn't help but join in when the choruses repeated.
Foggy left just after dinner, and Matt and Natasha had retired to the bedroom. With light beginning to fade from the sky, the glowing billboard across the road made an increasing impact on the light levels in Matt's apartment. Natasha looked at Matt, his face illuminated by the blue-white light of the sign. Matt was tucked in bed, having recently taken his final dose of the extra-strong pain medication Claire had left for him, while Natasha lay on top of the covers.
"Maybe," Natasha said, and rolled over to stare at the ceiling, "We would have worked in some other world." Matt turned his head and his unseeing eyes in her direction. Natasha turned to look at him in return, and gently pushed back his hair from his forehead. "We'd have a house within commuting distance of New York and the Avengers base. It'd have a library with books in English and Russian and braille, and we'd have a big kitchen, and a couple of rescue cats."
"Do we have a garden?" Matt asked.
"Yes," Natasha replied, "A good kitchen garden with herbs and vegetables and a lemon tree. And chickens."
"I don't know if I'd be any good at cleaning out the coop," Matt said.
"We'd go on holidays to Italy and Croatia and go sailing," Natasha continued, allowing herself to run away with the fantasy.
"I can't sail," Matt said, the corners of his mouth turning into a smile. He looked relaxed, Natasha thought. Drowsy and pale, but relaxed.
"I can," she said.
"Good," Matt said, letting her story take his mind away. He liked this world Natasha was describing. It sounded safe and regular and comfortable. "I'd bet you'd enjoy the scenery. I'd enjoy the sun."
"Yeah," Natasha smiled, "And we'd have the weirdest bunch of people around for Thanksgiving - either that, or we'd be having lunch at one place, and dinner at another."
"Christmas would be just as hectic," Matt said, adding to the fantasy, "Church in the morning, then lunch with Foggy's family,"
"And dinner with Steve." Natasha finished.
"Boxing Day to catch up on our new DVDs and music."
"You'd sit with me while I watched DVDs?" Natasha asked.
"Sure," Matt said, "And you'd sit and maybe do some quiet activity while I played my new music."
"Of course," Natasha said, "And shortly after New Year we'd escape the cold to Australia for a fortnight of summer and beaches."
"You like summer?"
"It sure beats blizzards."
"True," Matt said, "And we'd go to the tennis."
"You like tennis?" Natasha asked.
"It's one of the easier sports for me to follow."
"Huh," Natasha said. "So we'd go to the Australian Open?"
"Exactly. We'd probably do a week in Melbourne and a week in Sydney. And maybe a week in New Zealand?"
"And go jet-boating."
"Exactly," Matt said.
"Can you hike?" Natasha asked.
"Reasonably well," Matt said. "We could go kayaking, so long as you steer."
"And then we'd get back to New York, all tanned."
"The others would be so jealous."
It almost felt real. Natasha could almost feel the southern summer sun and see the shimmering aqua waters and awesome mountain ranges of New Zealand. The polite applause of the tennis crowd in Melbourne. Holding Matt's hand while the walked along Bondi Beach on a balmy summers evening. Almost. Natasha moved forward and gently kissed Matt on the lips. "It's just a dream."
"It's a good one," Matt said.
Natasha nodded. "Sorry, I just nodded."
"I know. I think," Matt said, reaching out of the blankets for Natasha's hand, "There's a Hugh Jackman song about this."
"What, impossible dreams?"
"No," Matt said, "About leaving while you're still in love."
"Oh," Natasha said. They hadn't spoken about her leaving, or their relationship or anything of that nature. And they had most certainly not spoken of love. Natasha took Matt's hand. "Are you sure you can't read minds?"
Matt smiled. "Positive."
"You do know I'm going to wait until you're asleep?"
"I know," Matt said, "Which is why I'm trying not to."
"I know," Natasha said. "You really like show tunes?"
"Shut-up," Matt said. "We could go to Broadway, you know. In our other world, I mean. I prefer a stalls seat. It's easier to feel the music if I'm on the same level as the orchestra. And I prefer to sit stage-left. Just an acoustic thing."
"I'll keep that in mind," Natasha said. They lay in silence for a few minutes. Natasha's mind raced with thoughts of an impossible future. Of climbing out of a cab out the front of the theatre. Of taking Matt's arm as they made their way through the foyer to find their seats. Of having to make sure he went into the correct bathrooms at interval. She could see herself in a long dress and Matt in a suit, looking sharp. It must be a gala, Natasha thought, in this dream world if they are so dressed up. Probably something sponsored by Stark Industries. They probably had free tickets. Matt yawned, and the noise pulled Natasha back to the real world. She looked at Matt, now struggling to keep his eyes open. "Matt?"
"Yeah?"
"If you ever need anything, anything at all, Matthew Murdock, you have my number."
"Anything?" Matt asked.
"I owe you one. We all do. The Avengers, that is."
"You're not going to disappear like a ghost in the night?"
"That's very poetic."
"I'm on a lot of medication."
"Yeah," Natasha said, "I know."
"I hope you can help Barnes. I really do. Whatever that means for him. I hope it was all worth it."
"It was worth something," Natasha said, "And I think that thing was good. I - I think this one takes a little bit of red out of the ledger."
"What?" Matt asked.
"Never mind," Natasha said.
"You know," Matt said, and suppressed a yawn, "You have my number too, if you need it. For whatever reason. Legal or super or - other."
"Yeah," Natasha said, and watched as Matt slowly closed his eyes. "I know. And I think you're an honorary Avenger now, Murdock."
"It's a good dream," Matt whispered, his lips still curved into a slight smile, "The other world."
Natasha kissed him once more, before slowly sitting up. She pulled the covers up over Matt's shoulders. He looked peaceful. Relaxed. If she didn't go now, Natasha knew she never would. Because there was an 'other' that she wanted, only too much meant it could not be. "Yeah," Natasha said, and nodded to herself, not sure if Matt could still hear her. "The other world."