on_va_voir (on_va_voir) wrote in districtmarvel, @ 2015-11-15 17:50:00 |
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Entry tags: | natasha romanoff, steve rogers |
Who: Steve and Natasha
Where: Natasha's penthouse
When: Following the Arena, following Bucky and Nat's texts. (Probably also after Steve's meetings with Stark and Scott.)
What: You want a revolution, I want a revelation
This visit to the Capitol had been a series of dizzying ups and downs for Steve. There had been the Arena party, which had been horrible, with its accompaniment drugging, which had been even worse. But then there'd been his meetings with Stark and Scott, and the fact that Peggy had seen fit to forgive him, so overall Steve supposed things evened out. Before he headed back to District Eight, however, Steve had a couple more things on his to-do list, and that was what had brought him here, to the front door of Natasha Romanoff's penthouse. He'd already knocked, and now he was just waiting for her to answer, to see whether or not she'd actually deign to let him in.
Ever since Stark's admission in the elevator, that Natasha had been telling stories about him, Steve had been worrying at the why of it. What could possibly have possessed her to start such a rumor, such a blatant lie? At first, he'd been more baffled than anything else, confused as to what her motivation might have been. Stark and Bucky had both tried to make out like Natasha might have been doing it on his behalf, but Steve couldn't come up for a single explanation as to why that particular lie might help him. Even Bucky's theory that a rumor about something petty would trump other rumors that might start to circulate - it didn't make sense to Steve. Something else was going on here, and Steve was determined to find out what. And slowly but surely, an edge of anger had started to creep in, alongside his confusion. Because this was clearly a widely circulating rumor; plenty of people had heard it. And what if Peggy had heard it? Steve figured she'd at least do him the courtesy of asking him about it, before blindly believing whatever the grapevine had given her, but things with her already felt so fragile, and this was something that could easily knock them off course.
He hadn't texted Natasha beforehand, hadn't wanted to give her the chance to duck out on him before he could confront her. It hadn't been difficult to find out where she'd lived, and then he'd just shown up, knocked, and waited. When the door finally swung open, Steve opened his mouth, prepared to launch right into a demand for an explanation, but then he caught sight of Natasha' face, and that pulled him up short, before he could get a single word out. Natasha sported a livid black eye, puffy and painful looking. Steve felt his own expression transform into something downright horrified, and the words he'd been about to say died in his throat.
"What the hell happened to you?" he asked, his voice going high and tight with dismay. This was never a look he'd expected to see on Natasha, not when she seemed to go out of her way to appear so glamorously put together at all times. After a moment, Steve's gaze dipped down, and when he got to her neck, a strangled sound tore out of him because there were bruises there in the exact shape of someone's hand. "Who did this to you?" he choked out. "Does Clint know?" Because Clint would want to know, he was certain. And then Clint would want to go make sure that whoever this bastard was, they'd never be able to lay a finger on Natasha again for as long as they lived.