. (hourglasss) wrote in snapthread, @ 2019-05-01 15:09:00 |
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Entry tags: | natasha romanoff (mcu), tony stark (mcu) |
Who: Tony Stank and Natasha Romanoff
What: Adventuring, getting the lay of the land, probably more emotioning.
When: Todaaaay!
Where: Tony's house to start, but perhaps around they will go and where they will stop and nobody knows.
Rating: Moderate, maybe some swearing! Also BIG WARNINGS FOR ENDGAME SPOILERS AS UZH.
Tony had asked for space. Well - not in so many words. Tony had asked for a minute to process the information that Natasha had dumped on him, and she'd turned that into giving him a couple days. And the second day had been for herself. James's furious response when he'd learned how she went down had been astonishing. Should it have been astonishing? She didn't know. It was probably saying something not too great about the place where her head had been, how she had felt about where her life had ended up, that she had honestly assumed that this was a thing that would pass pretty quickly. That hearing about it would bother her friends at first, like any shock, but they would relax in relatively short order, that it didn't have to be a big deal.
She had died. For a reason, yes. For someone she loved. For her team. For, literally, billions of lives on thousands of planets, but still: she had died. There was not a bigger deal than death. And if there were things she was happy about here, why was it so important to her to keep convincing everyone that it was fine? That it was okay? That she was okay, even - and was she? This was why she had chickened out from seeking out Thor or Steve, yet. It sucked to suspect that maybe she wasn't as fine about it as she had professed to be. It felt weak, which was also unfair.
Too many things were too complicated, but one thing wasn't complicated at all, now that she'd convinced herself it was time. Whatever the world, Tony Stark was never hard to find. There was something comforting in that. The last time she'd come to see him, he'd been sitting on a front porch, too. Morgan on his lap, looking he'd finally found some peace in the universe, and fuck knows he'd deserved it.
Fuck knows they all had, but if they all weren't getting there, at least it had found Tony.
"If you're thinking of taking up whittling, I could use some bookshelves," she told him in greeting, the smile lighting her face as she looked at him belying the casual tone and greeting. "Maybe one of those little slider whistles or something, if we're starting smaller."