Deadly Attachment

Chapter 17

- "both a little scared, neither one prepared, beauty and the beast." - beauty and the beast.

Natasha was tense when I walked by her side, and I'm sure it was because of the conversation I had with Pietro. She was slightly jealous, so when she left dinner early, I followed her. 

"Natasha," I called before she entered her room. She stopped to look at me, and she seemed a little upset. When I reached her, I kissed her softly. "I want us to be together," I whispered against her lips. "Be my girlfriend."

"Was it a question, or a demand?" Natasha smiled against my lips.

"A little bit of both. What do you say?" I pull back so I can look into her eyes.

"I say yes. I will be your girlfriend." Her words made my heart leap with joy.

"Good. Because I don't want anyone else but you, and I want you to remember that."

"You deserve better than me, Katya." She backs up and has her hand on the handle of her door. I frown at her. Didn't she just say she would be my girlfriend?

"Are you trying to change my mind?" I asked, taking a step towards her. She pressed herself up against the door as if to create more space between us.

"No, of course not. I just want you to be sure that I'm what you want." She bit her lower lip, brows furrowed. "I'm not as whole as other girls will be, and I'm a mess. I won't admit it any other time but now, I just want you to know what you're getting yourself into. I'm a mess, Katya. A great big mess."

She opened the door to her room and stepped inside. I walked in after her. "You will always be what I want. Where's all this coming from?" I reach for her, but she steps away once more, and I try not to feel hurt.

"Well...I'm a pile of broken glass. I'm not going to be fixed, okay? I'm just going to hurt you, and I won't even mean to. I'm an assassin, for crying out loud. I kill people for a living." She ran both of her hands through her hair and looked at me. Her eyes were watering. "And you...you're absolutely perfect. You're kind, intelligent, and beautiful. You're an actual angel. What could an angel possibly want with someone as broken and imperfect as I am? I'm a murderer." She hugged her arms close to her sides.

As soon as the first tear fell, I rushed to her, holding her in my arms. "I'm a fallen angel. I'm supposed to be the worst kind of angel. And yet, you find the good in me. You're not a terrible person, you're not broken. You're perfectly whole just the way you are. You just need a little filling glue, to keep you together."

She let herself break down in my arms, and I felt my heart shatter into the glass that she claimed she was.

"I have these terrible dreams of you making me forget that you exist, and then you leave. I don't want to forget you, and I don't want you to make me forget you."

I clenched my jaw. "I won't do that to you, Natasha. I'm not going to leave you."

She wiped her eyes, and looked up at me, knowing that I was a few inches taller than my favorite redhead. "Will you stay with me tonight?" She asked, hopeful.

"Of course," I whispered, kissing her forehead. She climbed into bed first, and I followed her, draping my arm around her waist. She backed up into me, and sniffled, trying to fall asleep.

-

I was a little drowsy in the morning, partially because I didn't sleep well. Natasha had nightmares during the night, although I don't think she remembers me soothing her back to sleep. I'm not sure she'd want to remember, as it was when she was very vulnerable and she's a little odd about things like this.

When I realized Natasha was also awake, I kissed the side of her neck, and she mumbled a raspy, "Good morning." I then returned the phrase and rolled out of bed reluctantly. "Where are you going?" She asked, turning over on the bed to face me.

"Breakfast." I slipped on my shoes. "I'm starving. Want to go?"

She nodded, yawning before slowly getting out of bed. "Let me just get some adequate clothing on."

"I'll do the same. Meet me down in the lobby in fifteen minutes?"

"Sure." She agreed, and I quickly left her room.

Returning to my own, I just put on a white shirt and jeans, then a leather jacket. It was a classic look of mine, one that I have used throughout the years, ever since it became very popular in the 1980's. I don't believe it ever has gone out of style, I think leather jackets are a nice touch to anything. But maybe it's just old thinking.

Natasha was waiting for me down in the lobby, and a smile crossed her face when she saw me. "Ready?" She asked.

"Yup." I popped the "p," and we walked out of Avenger's tower. There were some people walking around, and as we walked down the street, Natasha and I talked about which coffee shop we wanted to go to. In the end, we decided on a little place just a few blocks away.

Sipping our coffee, we held a light conversation and looked out the window at the people resuming normal lives. One woman pushed a stroller with a little girl walking with her, while what I assume to be her husband holds a toddler in his arms.

I paid more attention to what was on our table when what seemed to be reporters walking by. Natasha also looked away from the window, hoping they didn't notice her red hair. 

Staring at our table, there was a color print article about Spider-Man. The front page was titled, "Spider-Man Missing?" and had an old picture of our Spider-Man in action. I frowned and slid the article towards Natasha. She stared at it, then folded it, tucking it away in her pocket.

"Crime rates have increased since Peter's injury," Natasha repeated what the article had said, except instead of Peter, it was Spider-Man's name.

"No one cares about New York like Peter does." I sipped my coffee. "When does he get his casts off?"

"Tomorrow, but you heard the doctors. They said he needs to slowly ease back into it, not just jump into things." She slipped her finger into the ring of the coffee mug. "It could hurt him if he comes back too fast. He's still just a kid."

"Someone has to help this city." I mused.

"Who? You?" Natasha joked. When I didn't respond, she let her mouth fall open. "You can't be serious."

"It's just until Peter gets back. I just want to do a little good, to deflect from all the bad that I've done in my time on earth." I flattened one hand on the table. "Besides, Peter will be back in two weeks."

"You don't have to prove yourself, okay Katya?" Natasha reached for my hand, and I let her take it. "You're a hero now, you're an Avenger."

"Having the title of Avenger doesn't make me a hero." I frowned. "It's just a title. I have to prove myself with my actions, not with words or names."

"You don't need to prove yourself at all."

"Natasha, you have only known me for a small portion of my time on earth. I have done horrid things in the past, things that I regret. I will not have peace until I make up for it." I was really fixed on this idea.

She closed her eyes, sighing. "We'll talk about this when we get back to the tower. Maybe Peter is okay."

"What are you so afraid of?" I wanted to pull my hand away from hers, but I resisted.

"I don't want you to get hurt."

"I'm immortal, Natasha."

"But you can feel pain. And I don't want you to be in pain." She set her jaw. "I don't want to argue. Can we just finish our morning in peace? And until we talk about it, promise me you won't do anything stupid."

I took a deep breath and nodded, letting this go for now. I see what Natasha is saying, but I want to help people and make up for who I was in the past.