Siren Song

I was wrong

Training with Natasha, Clint, and Steve was something I had expected to get easier over time. But the more I trained, the harder they pushed me. Every time I was knocked down in sparring I didn't feel the motivation necessary to get back up half the time. I just felt like a hollow shell of the person Loki had brought out of me. I didn't realize how much I had gotten used to his company before I began staring blankly at the wall before bed every night.
Everyone in the house seemed to take note of my obvious mental decline as they tried and failed to strike up conversation with me.
"I just wish we had more people in the house that got my references," Stark raved one morning. I ,along with several others, had failed to laugh at one of his jokes. I didn't laugh more out of my soured mood than anything else. Any other time I would've made an effort to smile. "All of you are either from alien planets, have been frozen in the ice for 70 years, or have been raised in a cult with no contact with the outside world."
"I get your references," Natasha assured.
"No you don't. If you did then you would've laughed."
"I get them," she insisted. "You're just not as funny as you think you are." Tony scoffed into his coffee.
"I find that hard to believe. Hey, kid, are you gonna eat your breakfast?" My head snapped up out of my blank stare as Tony addressed me. The breakfast table was no longer a gathering place for a group of unlikely friends. The heavy air had affected everyone, though they pretended it didn't. It affected Clint most of all since he had been the one that had brought your friendship with Loki to everyone's attention. He tried his best to convince himself that he had saved your life, and that was something he refused to feel guilty for. Thor seemed to be in an even more sullen mood than I was, but I could never be sure. This being my first heartbreak I had nothing else to compare it to. The torture my father put me through just seemed to be the normality.
In a few days Thor would take Loki to Asgard to rot in prison. And I would likely never see him again. I tried to convince myself that's what I wanted, but the lie left a bitter taste in my mouth. I knew better and so did everyone else. The rest of the Avengers told me it was a good thing and that I would bounce back. I hoped that was true because I wasn't sure how much longer I could take feeling this way.
I caught my foot on a rock as I was lost in my thoughts. The pain in my toe seemed almost blissful. It was a nice reminder that I could still feel something. Nat jogged back to me when she realized I wasn't even trying to catch up to her.
"Stub your toe?" She asked in an indifferent voice.
"Yeah, I'll be fine."
"You know it would hurt a lot less if you wore shoes on our runs," she informed. I shrugged.
"The dirt feels good." She sighed.
"Kid, look at me." I drew my eyes away from ground and bore into hers. "Are you okay?"
"No," I answered honestly.
"I know it hurts, but you've got to get a grip. Loki was using you. It sucks, but I want you to know we're here for you."
"Thanks for the pep talk," I said in a bitter tone. I started to run the rest of the lap but she put her arm out in front of me.
"Listen to me, it's killing us all to see you like this. You don't fight like you used to. You don't get back up anymore. It's like the life was drained out you or something."
"I'm so sorry that I've been such an inconvenience. I'll try to cheer up so everyone else can stop walking on egg shells." I tried to walk past her again but her arm didn't waver.
"That's not what I meant to say. We tried to warn you, kid! Why didn't you listen to us?" I finally drew enough force to push past her and walked a good few feet away from her.
"You want to hear me say it so bad, don't you?" Tears started to obstruct my vision as I turned to her. I really didn't want to cry in front of her right now. I usually saved it for when everyone else was asleep. "You were right, okay? You were right and I was wrong! There! Are you happy? I was just a dumb little kid who didn't listen to any of the adults and I payed for it!" My heart throbbed painfully as I broke down in the dirt. I held my frame as I slid down in the dust and sobbed until my chest ached.
Natasha obviously wasn't used to comforting others as her hand on my back was the only solace she gave. She let me bawl myself into a red faced, snot nosed mess. When I finally surfaced from between my knees, she gently wiped away the hair stuck to my face. She lowered herself down and sat on the track with me a while before speaking.
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to word it like that."
     "It's okay. I didn't mean to yell at you." Natasha chewed on her lip as if in deep thought. She wanted to say something, but I didn't ask out of fear that it would hurt me more.
     I can't believe I was fooled so easily. It was either that, or he was a good actor. He could probably make anyone believe that he cared. I was just the one he got to first.
     Natasha placed her hand on my knee causing a distant memory of my mother to resurface. It was so fuzzy I couldn't be sure if it was even real.
The fireplace was going and it filled the living room a cozy atmosphere. My mother turned her misty eyes to me, her beautiful little girl. She felt that she had finally found her place in the world. She truly had it all. A nice house, a wonderful husband, and now a little girl. A handsome paycheck made spoiling her toddler all too easy. She looked to the gaudy diamond ring that seemed to weigh down her finger. She thought it odd that he had such a big pay for a "common job at the office" as he put it. This wasn't the first time she suspected him of lying about his profession, but she never asked out of fear of coming off as ungrateful. My mother began to playfully rub my bundled feet and laughed as I tried to kick her hands off.
Sometimes she wondered if it was even worth asking about. She knew he would do anything for his family. Even if it meant taking up a dangerous job. But still, the late nights, the vague answers, and the blood on his shoes made it difficult to silence her curiosity.