Entry tags:
A Day in the life of... with
makeachoice
A body collapses on the mat laid out on the safe house floor.
"Ten more." Natasha urges, her back turned to the figure collapsed on her floor. Any groans of protest are promptly ignored. "I've got all afternoon to stand here and we're not eating until we're done." Natasha's got her hair up in a messy bun, black tank top and shorts as she examines her arsenal laid out on the desk in front of her.
"You're getting better at cleaning these. Good job. We'll head out to the shooting range after we eat."
It's a simple arrangement, really. Christopher keeps the apartment tidy (not that there's ever much of a mess unless he makes it) and cleans her gear, and Natasha lets him live there rent free in one of the safest places in the Nexus. She's also taken up becoming his personal trainer. She admires the spirit the kid has, even if she doesn't know him very well, yet.
She looks over her shoulder, a tiny glance and the barest hints of a smile on her face. Natasha still isn't sure why she brought Chris home with her, but she's finding that she doesn't mind the coompany as much as she thought she would.
"Ten more." Natasha urges, her back turned to the figure collapsed on her floor. Any groans of protest are promptly ignored. "I've got all afternoon to stand here and we're not eating until we're done." Natasha's got her hair up in a messy bun, black tank top and shorts as she examines her arsenal laid out on the desk in front of her.
"You're getting better at cleaning these. Good job. We'll head out to the shooting range after we eat."
It's a simple arrangement, really. Christopher keeps the apartment tidy (not that there's ever much of a mess unless he makes it) and cleans her gear, and Natasha lets him live there rent free in one of the safest places in the Nexus. She's also taken up becoming his personal trainer. She admires the spirit the kid has, even if she doesn't know him very well, yet.
She looks over her shoulder, a tiny glance and the barest hints of a smile on her face. Natasha still isn't sure why she brought Chris home with her, but she's finding that she doesn't mind the coompany as much as she thought she would.
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"...eight...nine...ten." The last word comes out in a huff, and he immediately collapses once again. He could probably lie right there with his face pressed into the floor for the rest of his life. He never wants to move again. But he will, of course. He will, and he'll end up doing this exact routine and finishing it with similar thoughts of wanting to resign to live on the floor. "I think I'm actually dead right now."
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It's a moment before Natahsa sets a bottle of water down next to him and tosses a towel onto his head.
"Stretch a minute and then go clean up."
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When the towel hits his head, he grunts in protest, but shifts into a sitting position, so he can graciously accept the water bottle. He downs it in seconds, the plastic crackling in protest as he sucks it back. "Hah--" Okay. Got some energy back. He stands and rolls his shoulders. "Be right back." As much as he'd like to take a hot, forty minute shower, that'll have to wait.
Rather, he's back in about ten with fresh clothes and a face that is no longer beat red. Also, he doesn't smell. That's a plus.
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"Feel better?" She doesn't look up when she asks.
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This time she does look up from her work, the barest hints of amusement on her face.
"Any luck on finding a way home?" Chris hasn't spoken much about his past since arriving, and Natasha hasn't asked. Directly. She's done an awful lot of digging and questioning to people he and his crazy friend have spent time with, though.
"You don't seem as worried as you did before."
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Natasha has to bite her tongue to keep from describing the young man in a light that would indicate she has done some digging into his past and spying on him.
Which she totally has.
But Chris doesn't need to know that. In fact, it's better if she didn't. He'd just get upset. She knows how people are about their friends.
Blind to the truth.
"It wasn't a suggestion if that's what you're worried about. You do good work, I'm not looking to get rid of you."
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"Glad you like my company. It would suck if you didn't, 'cause I don't really plan on leaving soon."
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Or chooses not to.
He reminds her the idea of innocence isn't a fairy tale. When he's not also being a colossal idiot.
"What are your long term goals?" This is a good topic to get on. If she knows what he's intending to do, she might be better able to help.
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"And eventually find a way home, too." That might be it for long term goals - for now, at least.
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After a lengthy chat with Chris over not bringing folks to her place...and relenting to Joshua being welcome over once in a while to use their shower and washing machine for his meager possessions, she hadn't brought him up again. But she had watched him. Closely. Enough to see him slip. Enough to see him raving, getting beaten bloody and left in the Plaza.
She's watched the Captain get himself nearly killed for a broken friend. Somehow, she doesn't expect Chris to be that indestructible.
"You should be more careful, around him."
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A tightness in his throat swells. "Why?"
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"You know why. You wouldn't be getting defensive if you didn't. ...I've watched stronger men than you lose everything because they let sentiment blind them from reality. It'd be a waste if that happened to you."
There really is no point in talking to Chris about this. Natasha sees that now. She'll have to go to the source of her concerns if she wants to change anything. Natasha pushes her plate aside gently.
"It's not really any of my business though. Just...trying to look out for you." He'll either argue or take the out, but Natasha isn't going to provoke him further. She knows a losing tactic when she sees one.
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"I'm not getting defensive because I know why," he attempts to explain with an even voice. "I'm defensive because you and everyone else is seeing him at his lowest, and I know people are making assumptions" Then, quietly. "He's sick, Natasha. I really appreciate you looking out for me, but-- you need to trust me on this."
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And she does. Being sick isn't anyone's fault. It doesn't change the fact that said sickness makes men like Joshua Washington dangerous. Certainly not as dangerous as he could be, but enough to put those close to him in danger. Chris is already teetering on the brink of a very unhealthy relationship with the man, in Natasha's opinion.
Giving everything to help his friend, while receiving nothing in return but more broken promises, lies, and anguish.
"Alright. Unless it's an emergency, I won't bring it up again." With you.
She has a certain hobo shelter to pay a visit to, when she gets the opportunity.
A certain man to pin to the wall and promise every kind of torture to if he hurts Christopher. If he slips too far. She'll put him down. It wouldn't be the first time she's played the Bad Guy in order to do what's right. Wouldn't be the first time she's verbally tormented someone with information she shouldn't have, gotten into their heads and left them a sobbing, broken mess on the floor.
Stronger men than Joshua could ever be have crumbled before her. And the Black Widow has something to protect. He should be grateful he's getting a warning at all. If Chris won't listen, she'll talk to Josh. And if Josh doesn't listen...well. He'll have to conveniently trip into a portal to another world. One where the AV field doesn't apply.
"I promise." Natasha Romanov gives Chris a small smile and begins clearing the table. "Now, to the shooting range?"