|
  |
In a way, it's a relief that David's been away. That's given Heather time — aside from the interlude with Akihiro — to first pretend nothing had happened and she didn't know a thing about the whole nanite business and then to get deeper and deeper into that bottle of scotch as she processes what happened to her.
Thank God something's going around SHIELD and come morning she can call in for a sick day now that Peggy's back in action. Irrationally, she showers. More than once. She does laundry all night, equally irrationally. It's not as though the little mechanisms made anything dirty. It doesn't matter. She feels dirty.
By the next morning, she's gone through what was left of the scotch and a pot of coffee and half a box of tissues and has opened yet another bottle of scotch, though by this point she isn't tasting it. She's on to scrubbing the floors and cleaning the fridge and washing the windows and anything to not feel soiled by the invasion of those horrible things that made her behave so horribly. It could have been worse but that doesn't make her feel any better.
*
The jingle of keys in the door might not make her feel any better, either. But the door opens and David slips inside all the same, the trenchcoat he's wearing over his suit already halfway off. Once he's closed the door behind himself and re-thrown the lock, he worries about taking it off the rest of the way, turning to finish coming inside.
He stops mid-motion when he spots the too-clean state of the apartment and, very slowly, moves to where he can peer into the kitchen. "…Heather?" David calls. "Everything alright?"
*
Heather seems to be…washing the dishes. Not the dirty dishes. All the dishes. "No." She shakes her head but she doesn't turn around.
There's a partly empty bottle of scotch open on the counter, the coffee pot is burbling away as it brews a fresh pot, there are baskets of folded laundry on the couch, the curtains have all been taken down, the windows are sparkling, the air smells of detergent and bleach and vinegar. It's cold in here, crisp fall air swirls through the open balcony door, out the open windows.
Heather herself is rumpled, her flannel shirt creased and slightly damp with sweat, her jeans are wet at the knees still from when she was down scrubbing the floor, her feet are bare and pale with cold. At one point, her hair might have been in a ponytail, now it's coming undone and long strands straggle loose against her cheeks while the slowly sliding elastic barely maintains a hold on the rest.
*
With the apartment this way, David feels incredibly out of place. He'd showered that morning and his suit wasn't filthy, but he'd been running all over town all night trying to chase down leads, and that had meant visiting bars. Like it or not, the faint but present scent of cigarette smoke is following him like a shadow.
"Didn't think so," David murmurs under his breath, and with a small frown, he drapes his coat over the back of a chair and moves into the kitchen. A few weeks ago, he might not have approached it this way — but now, he immediately moves to her side and reaches out to lay a hand against the small of her back. "Anything I can do?"
*
Heather jumps, a full body twitch and shudder that wrenches her away from David — trailing soap suds — so that she ends up with her back against the stove. Fortunately, it's cold. "No," she says again. She looks like she's been crying for, well, it's been about half a day.
"I'm sorry," she says, almost on top of the first word. "Sorry. I don't know why I'm so upset. I'm so sorry if I did anything awful or stupid… I almost… " That cure didn't come a moment too soon for her. And what if she'd never been cured?
"I've been sick," she says, trying to start again, as she remembers that David has no idea what's going on. "I got sick in Austria. And I thought I was better. And I wasn't. There was something in my brain. It made me do things."
*
David actually looks a bit alarmed when she wrenches away, jerking his hand back like someone who's just discovered quite by accident that the stovetop is still hot and immediately retreats a few steps. Okay. Now he's very concerned… and utterly unsure of how to proceed.
And then she starts to explain, and slowly, David's expression grows cloudy. "In Austria," he echoes, his brow furrowing slightly as he stands a touch stiffly where he is. "…well. If anyone is going to understand being made to do something you didn't want to, you're looking at him," he says, forcing some lightness into his voice.
David tilts his head at her, clearly still worried. And after a moment's hesitation, he offers a hand her way. "You have never done anything awful or stupid to me in your life, Heather. I promise. Come sit with me for a minute?"
*
"I feel so stupid." She puts her bare, wet, shaking hands over her face for a moment, then she nods. She still doesn't take his hand, as though she's afraid she's contagious. "I don't…" She crosses her arms over her chest on the way to the couch, tucking her hands under her arms to keep them still. "I'm being ridiculous. I just. I'm so embarrassed. I'm so sorry, David. I should never have…I've never been…forward. I just. I want to say it wasn't me but it was, and yet I would not have acted that way."
The laundry is in the way so she carefully stacks the baskets, trying to be calm about it all, then she sits down. "I feel dirty/"
*
Once Heather's moved past him, David just closes his hand and allows it to fall back to his side. For a brief moment, he studies the floor between his feet. But then he's lifting his chin again and falling into step behind her, waiting for her to sit before he lowers himself down to crouch in front of her. Close… but not too close.
"Heather," David says gently, leaning just enough to try and get a look at her face. "I will do whatever you need me to do. But first I want to remind you of something that is, I think, very important." He doesn't reach for her, but to lay a hand on the armrest next to her. "When you kissed me and told me you meant it? That was before you went to Austria. And that is all that matters to me. Everything after that is as negotiable as you need it to be."
*
"I just…I wanted it to be normal this time. The way it is for everyone else. And it's so stupid and childish." Tears well up in Heather's eyes, then spill over. "I love you, I don't regret saying it and, when I wanted you, that was real. All of it was real but it was…it wasn't my choice. I don't want the way we started to be because someone infected me with tiny machines like bugs in my brain. I love you and I wanted it to be just us. Not because it was necessary or practical. Especially not because something made me act so ridiculously."
Heather pulls one a a number of crumpled tissues from her jeans pocket to blow her nose. Her hands are still trembling. "I feel like they're still inside me, that they're in the house. Nanites, I think Johnny said. And I just feel so awful because I came so close to making other terrible decisions that would have been so unfair to you. I just got lucky that I was…diverted."
*
David leaves his hand on the armrest and studies her face. Under circumstances like these, and after being rebuffed twice, he's resigned to waiting for Heather to be the one to initiate any kind of contact. Better that way, anyway.
"Wanting to be normal isn't stupid, Heather. And neither is feeling violated." He runs a hand back over his hair, drawing in a slow, tired breath. "…but all we can do now is take a moment to breathe, and then figure out what comes next. I will understand completely if you need me somewhere else while you process this." After a pause, he adds, "And I will also understand completely if you would rather I stay."
*
"Don't go. Please. The last thing I want is to be apart from you." When the prospect of David being gone yawns in front of her, Heather's feelings snap into crystal clear focus. She reaches out to touch his face with cold fingers. "Do you want to kiss me, even if I'm a mess?" she asks ruefully.
*
One hand comes up to lightly cover the one at his face, and David immediately turns his head enough to press a light peck against her palm. "Please. I always want to kiss you," he says wryly, raising his eyebrows at her. "And if you want me here, then I'm here. We can start over, if you like?" he offers, tilting his head to one side. "Maybe go out to dinner?"
*
Heather nods slowly. "I would really like that. I like that you always want to kiss me, too. Even after I was so horrible and forward and running around in almost nothing — what a disaster." She sniffles. "Good thing Johnny came up with a cure in time because I was considering quitting my job to stay home and have kids. That would…not…not have worked out, I don't think. Not right now."
*
"No, that doesn't sound like you." Slowly, David shifts to sit next to Heather on the couch, further moving the laundry if necessary to claim the spot for himself. "So. We'll finish cleaning the apartment," he says easily, glancing around the room. "And then I will take you out to dinner. And it will be very nice, and as normal as two people like us can manage to make something."
*
Heather snuggles up to David with a little noise that sounds like pure relief. "After I sleep. I haven't slept." She burrows into his arms as best she can. "After Akihiro came over, it all hit me. It wasn't his fault, I just used up all my being reasonable on him. I can only hope it worked."
*
"Akihiro was here?" David sounds surprised. Doesn't stop him from winding both arms around Heather and supportively snugging her up against himself, though, or from pressing a kiss to the top of her head.
*
"Kitty got the bomb out of his head. Apparently not before he killed a substantial number of people — Weapon X was using him to clean up after itself, it seems. He wanted to go try and carve his way through the ranks to Colcord. I think I talked him out of it." Heather sighs sadly, rubbing her cheek against David's chest for comfort.
"I told him if he was going to do something so dangerous and unproductive and threatening to himself and others, he'd have to go through me to do it. Someone has to protect him from himself and, no, that's not those nanites talking. He needs a parent, or at least a friend. Logan isn't going to do it," Heater notes icily. "Akihiro thinks Logan hates him — he may be right, and he deserves better. The last thing we need is for someone so dangerous and so well-trained to feel like there's no reason left to care whether they do right or wrong. I'm not insensible to the horrific things he's done but I also see a boy who needs someone to believe he can be better. I do."
*
Judging by how long David is quiet, there was a lot of new information in this response for him to take in and process. It doesn't effect the hug, however, unless the way he shifts to rest his chin against the top of her head counts.
"He nearly killed the reporter I gave the files to," David finally says, and his voice is a quiet, even rumble. "I can forgive a lot if there was a bomb in his head. But a lot of it comes down to how it got there in the first place. Don't suppose he mentioned that, did he?"
*
"Yes. Because they promised to complete the adamantium process and to tell him who murdered his mother," Heather says, and her tone suggests just how cruel she thinks this is. "Because Logan got away from them with so much adamantium, the bomb is their new leash for Weapon X assets. Akihiro was not alone in having it, from what I can tell from how he talked. They gave him adamantium-infused claws, promised him the rest — and the information — later. They also lied to him about who his targets were. He wants just to kill the person who murdered his mother, he seems to think this will all be necessary to do it."
Heather inhales sharply, then shakes her head against David's chest. "Something in him is just a little boy who wants to know what happened to his mother, why he never had her. And he's angry. I'm trying to get the information instead. We can't let anyone use that to pull the strings of a damaged, sad, dangerous young man. His only solution to things is to kill until he dies or what's hurting him dies. Yes, it's inexcusable. It's also heartbreaking."
*
"Well. I happen to know a very good private investigator," David says in a low rumble, his tone still rather… even. "If you want some extra help trying to track the information down for him, I need to stop by the office tomorrow to touch base with her. Be happy to introduce you." He lifts his head enough to peek down at her, his lips pursing in thought.
"Just. Be careful around him," David finally says, and he sounds resigned. "His father may not have bothered to raise him, but Akihiro's more like him than is healthy, or safe." He sighs, shifting enough to pinch the bridge of his nose between his fingers. "If he didn't have the adamantium, I'd be more comfortable with this. You could handle bone without a problem," he says confidently. "But that shit complicates everything."
*
"I know he's dangerous," Heather says quietly. "I'm afraid of him, David. Don't get me wrong. I am. I'm also afraid for him. I think he can be a better man than Logan, though. He came to me for — I don't know. He didn't have to, not for survival or any other purpose, but he wanted to. And he listened. I think, on some level, maybe he even needed to come. I can't throw that away, not knowing what the wrong people could make of him. Not knowing that, at some point, some woman carried him under her heart and loved him and had him torn away from her like they were both nothing. I reject that with everything in me, I really do."
*
David just gives a short nod, seeming satisfied. As long as Heather isn't willfully ignoring how dangerous the kid is, he can live with this. In theory. "Fair enough. Do you want me to introduce you to Jones, then?" he asks lightly, giving her shoulders a supportive squeeze. "You don't have to do this by yourself."
*
"I could certainly use her help tracking down some pieces of information outside the Weapon X program, at least. I think Kitty will be working on some things, herself." Heather pulls back enough that she can look up at David. "I know I don't have to do this alone. Not just this. Everything. I really do want to start over, David. So we can do this properly. I want you to know for sure that you're gettling all of me — awkward as I can be sometimes."
*
"I'm not exactly graceful myself," David notes with a wry twist of his lips, raising his eyebrows as he looks down at her. "Even under the best of circumstances. Which these are not. But we'll figure it out," he muses, lightly nodding his head from side to side before leaning in to steal a quick peck on the lips, if she'll let him. "Alright?"
*
Heather lets him steal a kiss, then nods. "Deal." Her smile turns impish and then she kisses him again, impulsively. "I want to kiss you all the time, too, by the way. Among other things. I've been thinking about it and that part was definitely all natural. So. I think we're going to be okay."
*
Well, if she's going to kiss him again, David is hardly going to complain. He tries not to look too relieved, though he does crack a smile that very much does reach his eyes. "Oh, good. We can ease back into things," he promises her, tilting his head to lightly touch his forehead to hers. "Find our actual, natural footing. And then move from there."
*