And there he kept standing, in the center of the mat, shoulders drawn back and knuckles almost white from how tight he curled those fists. And he listened attentively to every word, every small compliment and praise - except, it felt wrong, to be praised for the same things he had spent a lifetime being shunned for.
The only movement he made was to clean the drop of blood from his mouth, where he had failed (Ha. Failure was all that he was. Failed as an experiment, failed as an agent, failed as a husband and father, failed as a son) to block on of her strikes. He never looked up from the cushioned floor to her face, and incredibly enough, itâs wasnât because of fear, embarrassment or respect.
No, it was about anger. Anger at himself, for being so open - readable, in fact. Natasha read him like a book, saw how⌠scared of his own reflection in the mirror he was.
It was only after a long stretch of silence that the ginger spoke, voice not above a whisper, âFor a long time, I didnât care. They wanted a weapon so gave them one - I wanted to show I wasnât a failure, wasnât someone useless enough to be left behind like he did to meâŚâ he took a deep breath, before memories got the better of him, âSo I made my hands stop shaking and plastered confidence on my, as a mask.â
A self-depreciating shrug as his eyes moved to the wall on his left. Christopher wouldnât dare to look at her, he wouldnât â - âBut then you happened, SHIELD happened⌠And James happened to, in a way. Now, I have to face all the things I ignored for selfish or otherwise reasons. Got to look in the mirror and see how many people I outlived and still keep the same face⌠And now⌠thatâs why I wanted you to train me. Because you know, you understand, but also because you can push the right buttons and teach how to live regretting so much when until a few years ago, I could go on with a clean consciousness.â
Natasha listened, she knew what he would say, all the parts of her that shined in him, she knew. âThis isnât something I can teach you,â she said quietly, regretting that she didnât have the answers. âIf I were left with just my regrets, I wouldnât last a day. I have bathed in so much blood that it suffocates me even now. Iâm not the hero you look at me as. Iâm a sinner as bad as any of them, but.. I need to make it right.â
She looked at him and gave a solemn shrug, part of her retreating into herself, unwilling to show even her own child how vulnerable she could be. âThat is how I live with myself. How I continue on in a world I feel would be better off without me. I try to make up for all the awful things Iâve done. To fix what I can.â
She shook her head. âIt might not ever be enough. What Iâve done... even James is more clean that I can ever hope to be. No matter that he believes otherwise. There are things even he doesnât know, things no one will ever know. My past is my own.â She dragged her teeth over her bottom lip trying to think of anything that might help him, even just a bit.
âEnjoy what you can. Life gives you few opportunities to love fully. It is always worth the heartbreak. And friends... allow yourself friends, real friends, true friends. If you should deny yourself that...â She thought of herself and Clint, or Tony, men who did not and could not ever truly trust her, who she could never truly trust and frowned slightly. âItâs a long and lonely road without. I have few friends. And fewer that I trust.â She then thought of Maria Hill, Blackrose, and James. She trusted them, absolutely. Even when she doubted herself, she trusted them. âDonât become like me. That would break my heart.â
snowghoul
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stormborns
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