widows_kiss | Appointments Post

[She instinctively steadies the bag at that last punch, can see the tension still written in the lines of his body, and knows this did no good. He's wound tight and she steps back, to the side, prowls around him until they've got the width of the room at their disposal. She lifts a hand, beckons to him in invitation, her gaze intent and steady on his.

She absorbs the mention of Pepper with an answering flare of frustration and worry, because the woman hasn't been at all the same since she got back, and even though Natasha's pieced most of it together, there's still pieces missing, pieces Pepper can't - won't - open up about. And she respects that, but she can tell its eating at her and that's not good. She hasn't quite figured out what to do about it yet.]

Did you?

[Sometimes he wonders just how much of what Natasha knows is him and how much of it is the person he'll inevitably become, but right now - he doesn't care. He's grateful that he doesn't even need to find the words.

The lines of her body change, from non-threatening to ready. He meets her gaze steadily. She knows what she's getting into, and he's got a feeling that when she knows why, she's going to need this as much as he does.]

I brought her here. [He circles her, assessing, moving in so the distance between them slowly closes.] Thought maybe the workout would help.

[She lets him circle her, lets him choose his moment, waiting, still and patient, her eyes locked on his face, watching for any tell he gives her. Because he has them, even if he doesn't know it, and she very much knows what she's getting into here. Probably better than he does.]

A good thought. She certainly needs something. Is that where that came from?

[She inclines her head at the bandage on his hand, impossible for her to miss when she knew that hadn't been there this morning.]

[He doesn't answer, but that's an answer all by itself.

He'd thought he could help. He was wrong. He'd made things that much worse, and then there had been nothing he could do. The same song and dance all over again. No matter how hard he hit, Killian was out of reach, and even then - hurting Killian wouldn't undo what had been done.

He strikes with his uninjured hand - a feint that lets him bring up his left elbow, driving it at her face. He's not pulling any punches because he doesn't want Natasha to either.

When they come apart again, he ignores the new flare of pain.]

What did she tell you? About what happened when she was gone?

[She ignores the feint, anticipating it. It's the following strike that's the real one and her arm is up to block it before it connects. There's a moment of dissonance, of wrongness, and she realizes she'd been bracing for a much stronger blow, her body falling back on old instincts, expecting the force and impact of flesh against metal. She dismisses it, the whole moment passing in a blink and then she's reacting, a counter blow aimed low at his unprotected side, left open by the blow to the face. She's not pulling punches for him, but she's testing him all the same. His reaction times, his instincts, pushing him.

His question gets him a deliberate blink and she chooses her words carefully.]

She mentioned that they crossed purposes with a corporation back home that wanted some of Tony's genius and thought using her was a good persuasion tactic.

[He stays just out of striking range, but even though she landed a blow, Natasha is on the defensive. He can feel the way his body itches to move in counterpoint, faster than he can think, because that's what it would take against her. He could stop thinking. He could get lost in her, easy.

But not yet.]

She tell you about Extremis? What it is -- what it does?

It upgrades human DNA. [Pepper had given her a basic explanation of it and the news hadn't surprised her. It wasn't the first time a person or corporation - or even their own government - had flirted with the theory, with the possibilities it could provide. Her voice is calm as she recites back what she'd gotten from Pepper.]

It can heal, but it's also extremely weaponizable. She indicated that it had an unstable and unpredictable reaction with test subjects. That's why they wanted Tony.

They wanted Tony so bad they put Extremis in her.

[Her next blow's harder than she intended, a momentary flare of fury before she purposefully stills herself, her gaze narrowed and fixed on his face, her posture tense, coiled. There's something dangerous in the careful way she holds herself.]

What?

[He twists to the left, deflects - feels it down to his bones - steps forward into her space. If there was a knife in his hand it would be buried in her stomach. Neither of them move.]

She got a scratch and her skin started to burn. [That was what it looked like, what it felt like.] That bastard.

[She pales, remembering what else Pepper had told her about Extremis. The unstable element of it. The end result. Her hand latches onto Bucky's wrist, his hand still pressed against her stomach. It was a good strike, impressive, but her attention wasn't as much on the fight at the moment as what he was telling her.]

What do you mean, she started to burn? It stopped?

[Pepper had stopped it? Or was this something else? She was going to have to talk to the other woman. And soon.]

It stopped. Her skin got so hot she started glowing. Looked like the veins in her arm were in fire. It didn't hurt her - I guess it was healing her, but I didn't know at the time. I grabbed her - stupid.

[He shakes his head. His other hand closes high on Natasha's arm, finding the pressure point above her elbow. He doesn't squeeze. It's a stalemate. She has his burnt hand at her disposal.]

When she calmed down, she cooled down. Got her checked out, doctors cleared her, so I took her back to the apartment, let her sleep.

She needs to learn to control it, at least 'till we can find a way to fix it, but she's nowhere near ready to think about it. And I'm not the person who can help her.

Edited 2013-06-11 16:41 (UTC)

Shit.

[She releases him. Steps away. Starts to pace, because that's more information to digest than she'd anticipated.

Where had SHIELD been in all of this? Where had they been? Why had Tony gone in on this alone and this was as big a showdown as Tony tended to make things, then where the hell had the team been? Was something worse happening?]

Extremis was originally meant to heal. That's what Pepper said. But it was dangerous. Unstable. Could be easily turned to other uses. She didn't mention.... She left out the part that they'd used it on her.

[But that explained other things, didn't it? Things Pepper didn't want to talk about, that Natasha could only guess at with a growing sense of dread. She turned, slammed her fist into the punching bag Bucky had been using earlier, a forceful outlet to frustrated rage.]

[He steps back, watches her. He doesn't flinch when her punch sends the bang swinging.]

Of course she did. She didn't even want to admit it to herself.

Edited 2013-06-11 17:03 (UTC)

[She stills the bag, rested her head against it for a moment, taking a deep breath to drag herself back under control. She turns then, coming back to him, holding her hand out for his.]

How badly are you hurt?

[Because he's an easier person to focus on for the moment. Not that her mind was relenting in mulling over the Pepper problem.]

[He puts his hand in hers, palm-up. His fingers took the worst of it, bandaged except the joints, and there's reddened skin peeking through where those bandages have started to come undone around his palm.]

It'll heal up in a couple of weeks, nothing permanent.

Good.

[She takes the time to look herself all the same, because it gives her something to do, something to focus on while her brain puzzled over other matters, worked on this problem with Pepper. She holds his injured hand lightly, careful not to cause any extra discomfort, but her gaze isn't seeing at the moment, focused somewhere in the middle of his chest. She had so many questions. So many uncertainties. Knowledge of things Pepper should have never experienced. Her mind churned with thoughts, a frown on her lips, her gaze shadowed.]

I'll talk with her. [She finally speaks, her voice soft, reluctant.] She'll have to learn to control it. If she keeps hurting people... she won't take that well. It's not her nature. And there's the risk of her hurting herself, if she becomes too unstable.

[He lets her check him over, his own thoughts shifting focus to her. He doesn't expect this to be easy on Natasha. It's worse for her to hear it, because she's been through something not unlike it, and she's close to Pepper in a slightly different way. She's someone to think about that isn't Killian (isn't helplessness and rage). Someone in reach. Someone he cares about far more than he can hate anything.

He nods at her words. He's been thinking along the same lines - or had been, when he asked Pepper for permission to tell her. He wants to say thank you, but she's doing this for Pepper, so he'll leave that to the two of them to sort out. He does, however, reach for her. His fingers brush her neck, gently this time, closing firmly at the nape. The touch is meant as reassurance, as comfort.] Are you alright?

[Her eyes fly up from his hand to his face, startled for a moment by the question, drawn abruptly out of her thoughts by his focus on her. There's still shadows there, but she gives him a crooked smile anyway.]

I'm fine. I'm just... in the unique position of being able to understand a little of what she went through. She... She shouldn't have had to go through that. I don't understand... [She trailed off a moment, looking frustrated, looking guilty.] We were a team, when everything went down in New York. I'd like to think, if Tony and Pepper were in trouble, we would have been there to help. Should have been. Is it because we were all here? Were they wrong about time passing differently at home for all of us?

[No one should have had to go through that. He doesn't say it, but there's a flicker of something in his eyes before he presses on.]

Stop it, Natasha. [He tries to catch her eye. Misplaced guilt is something he never really stops seeing and he gets it, he does.]

Listen to yourself. You'd have been there in a heartbeat if you could. You've gotta stop beating yourself up about things you've got no control over. [He gives her a wry smile.] You know, follow example.

[She huffs out an irritated breath at that, but stops. Or at least does her best to, because she's just as human as any of them, has her doubts and fears and guilt. She doesn't often give voice to them - almost never maybe, outside of a few times with Clint when her own composure was too badly shaken - but the knowledge that Pepper was probably tortured and...]

[Her voice is soft. Strained.] I would have. But I wasn't. And she's gone home and come back and I can see so much changed in her. And Tony's still missing, could be missing for good and while maybe that's a good thing...

I don't know how to help her. I don't know if what I can do will be enough.

It's enough that you try. Some things even you can't control, sweetheart.

A lot of this - the really hard stuff - it's gonna be Pepper's fight. The only thing we can do for her is let her know we're always in her corner.

Sometimes I really hate being the one to watch.

[She confesses it softly, lips quirking faintly as she huffs out a soft laugh that doesn't hold a lot of humor. Her thumb brushes lightly over his bandage, almost apologetically.]

So. Do you need to punch things some more or should we get out of here?

Just sometimes?

[He puts his undamaged hand over hers. He thinks about staying. The anger is still there, but he isn't going to get at it this way, and underneath it is helplessness that this doesn't change.]

I think the bag got the message. Let's get outta here. Your place or mine?

[She doesn't answer that, lets her gaze flick over his face instead for a moment, gauging his mood, then nods.]

Let's make it my place. I'd like to check in on Pepper anyway, if she's home yet. She's using my spare room.

Re: [May 21st, late night]

jamesbarnes - 2013-07-01 21:29 (UTC) - Expand