InsaneJournal

Roy was waiting outside of MIST as Natasha left for the day, leaning against her car. "Hi," he said, acknowledging her with a nod. "My place tonight? I thought I'd cook."

He seemed to have leaned into the belief that if he acted like things were normal, they would be normal. And then Natasha wouldn't seem so distant, and he wouldn't have to combat images of her in his head of how she'd floated against the ceiling at MIST, limbs broken at all the wrong angles.

Everything was fucking fine, in other words.

It had been a few days since she'd come out of that trance. As soon as someone said the word healing, she immediately took them up on it. There was no way she was spending six weeks in a wheelchair, then another few weeks of therapy. Then having to get back into the shape she was before. She just did not have time for that.

This was also her second brush with death in six months. There was still phantom pain in her limbs.

Natasha was, admittedly, quieter than normal, but she was trying to assure everyone around her that things were alright. That things would go back to normal. That she could go back to normal. That was before the trauma of the event even bothered her. The headache was bad, yes, but the nightmares were worse. The hallucinations before the hospital trance were worse.

She needed time to heal, and healing happened best when she had moments to think to herself. Not think about what someone else needed. She knew that Roy meant well, but it was too much, too overwhelming, so when she saw him leaning against her car, she wasn't relieved. She was tired.

"I'm not that hungry, really. Was thinking I might just have a peanut butter sandwich."

"Your place then," he agreed easily, waiting for her to unlock the car so he could get in.

"Yeah, I guess," she replied, an exhale of a response.

She liked Roy. She wanted to spend time with him. She didn't want to spend all of her time with him. Not right now. Not ever, really.

There were times where Roy missed contextual clues, but this? This wasn't that time. Looking at Natasha, he tensed up, "Did I fucking miss something?" he asked. This wasn't the first time it felt like she was blowing him off and it was frustrating. Because he was trying to keep his shit together even though everything had come at him far too fast, between Jamie, Natasha, Jamie's dumbass again, and then Rose.

And all he really wanted to do was be there for the one person he hadn't been there for at the point where it mattered the most, even if there probably hadn't been anything he could have done differently.

Was she mad at him for that?

"No. I'm just tired. There's a lot of catching up I have to do." Bills that needed to be paid, paperwork that needed to be filled out. In retrospect, she realized she should have given a list of who would take her place in her absence, and as grateful as she was to Yelena, it should have gone to someone who worked here. Who already had a password and keys and knowledge of the way things run. "I don't really want to have to entertain someone while I'm trying to wind down for the night."

"Entertain someone?" Roy questioned, staring at her. "Wow, right. Okay… Because I require so much fucking entertainment? I wanted to make you dinner?"

"It's not like that, you know what I mean. There's someone else there, you feel the urge to talk or do something."

"So what you're saying is you just don't want me there?" Roy asked.

For what felt like a very long second, Natasha debated on what to say. This had spiraled out of control already as it was, and she wasn't looking for a goddamn fight. She just wanted to go home, eat a sandwich, and crawl into bed. Was that such a fucking crime?

"I don't want anyone there. I need space to think by myself."

Roy took a deep breath, inhaling as he drew himself up, and then exhaled, very slowly. "Fine," he said, his voice tight. He nodded at Natasha, exercising all the self-restraint he could muster. "I'll see you later."

"I can drive you to your place."

Roy considered Natasha for a second and then nodded. "Yeah, alright."

He finally got into the car, taking another deep breath. Sorry.

Natasha mentally replied, Don't worry about it. Even if she was.

She climbed into the driver's side, tossing her wallet and keys into the divider between them. A second later, she pressed the button to start the car. Sometimes she really missed the old way of turning on a car. It was much more tactile and you could feel the car start up. There was something to be said for routine.

"I know it's not what you want me to be right now, but I need some space. That's all. I'm not breaking things off or running off. I just need space to think and to just be."

Roy took yet another deep breath before saying, "You're right. This isn't what I want. But what you're asking for isn't unreasonable, and so I'm not going to be unreasonable about it." A beat. "Anymore."

He glanced over at Natasha, not wanting to follow the same path he had with Keeley. But he probably needed some space too, so that he could deal with his own shit, like being able to look at her without thinking of her floating. But that thought was terrifying. What if that was something he couldn't deal with?

Either way, he needed to figure that out. Maybe it was time to ask Sam for advice. He barely noticed when they'd made it to his place, having gotten lost in his own thoughts. "Goodnight," he said, getting out of the car, his voice contemplative.

All of his thoughts… That's what Natasha had been afraid of. What if he couldn't deal with that? Not only was Natasha never going to give up the superhero life, but just having her history made her a bigger target for these things. Could Roy handle that?

"I'll talk to you soon, yeah?"

"Yeah," he nodded. It felt like he should say something else, but he couldn't think of anything so he just closed the car door with a grunt and headed inside, not really knowing what to think.

Natasha watched him walk away, the evening swallowing his dark jacket. She waited until he was inside the house, where no vampire could get to him without invitation, then drove off to do that thinking.