Never before in recorded human history had there ever been as dark a time as this. It literally felt like half the world was living through a literal apocalypse, which was appropriate because half of the world was literally living...after everyone else had been wiped off the face of the Earth thanks to a galactic tyrant hellbent on rebalancing the universe in a scheme that was as deeply flawed as one could imagine. Matt couldn't even believe the news of everything that had actually occurred...not until he could hear the literal heartbeats of everyone slowly, quietly fading away from reality like a fever dream. It was scarring as hell, a true nightmare, and he climbed to the top of a cathedral shouting to the world, cursing, screaming, just praying that God could hear him. He'd already suffered through his own personal crisis of faith before finally recovering with help from his friends and finding the balance of both peace and justice within his faith. So why on Earth was something this catastrophic happening to him, to the whole entire world? He lost Foggy and Karen again, and unless there was some form of a higher power that he could tap into, there was just no reversing this. This form of unusual cruelty, this injustice. Most days were hard to get through, but Matt always relied on that inner reserve of strength he kept bottled up for special occasions or tough days like this one. Establishing an off-day routine of boxing, training, and patrolling the neighborhood was key for Matt to get through these days, but it would always start off with a trip to his favorite coffee cafe, to get the long morning going with a fresh brew of coffee. Opening the door, a bell sounded and Matt stepped through, the usual suspects inside of the cafe completely filling this place to the brim. Being in crowded spaces wasn't anything new to Matt, especially when you were a high profile lawyer but it seemed as if all of the booths and tables were unfortunately taken. He was about to go for a coffee and go when a woman spoke out to him, motioning for him to sit across the table from her. "Well thank you," he nodded towards Natasha, "can't say many people are these days, but I get it." Why would anyone want to be a natural conversationalist when the most talked about news on the news were those weird camps being formed overseas with new borders being built or whatever in this new world of sorts. "Brazilian blend, two sugars and two creamers, thank you," Matt asked the barista who sweetly nodded, and went back to fetch his drink. "Am I right in assuming that this is part of your daily routine as well?"
As he approached, it was then that Natasha realised that something about him was familiar. Her eyes narrowed a fraction as she scrutinised his face, trying to place where she'd seen him before. The list of files of people that SHIELD liked to keep an eye on was extensive as were the reasons for keeping an eye on such individuals and yet, Natasha had seen a large number of them over the course of her time with them. Perhaps she'd figure it out over the course of this interaction or she'd figure it out once she got back to the compound. In the meantime, she closed and folded the paper back up, setting it beside her next to her boxing gloves from earlier. She didn't figure that the other would be particularly interested in making small talk and she wasn't so sure she was either, but she didn't want to be rude by diving into her paper after inviting the stranger to take the other side of the booth. When the barista came over to get the others' order, Natasha turned her head towards the window until the barista walked away so she wouldn't catch a glimpse of her face and potentially recognise her.
"Ahh, no, I wouldn't say daily. First time for me, actually." she admitted, taking a side of her own coffee. "I don't really get out much these days with work. A friend of mine sometimes manages to convince me that i need to get out every once in awhile though." Even if it tended to be the last thing Natasha wanted to do, she had to admit, Steve was right. Shutting herself up in the compound every hour of every day, obsessing over what was going on these days wasn't healthy. The alternative wasn't much better these days either when being around the people that they'd all failed in such a monumental way tended to feel just as crushing of a weight as the walls of the compound closing in around her. Besides... her life had revolved around the job for so long, she wouldn't know what to do with herself on one or more of those mythical sounding 'days off' that ordinary people spoke about. "Sounds like it's part of yours though?"









