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Open | What's better than an apology?

CHARACTERS: Natasha
LOCATION: simulation room
DATE: post-mission
CONTENT: In this simulation, there are puppies and a dog park. Also sisters doing sister things, but you can ignore that if you want because the puppies are more interesting.
WARNINGS: Nothing for the time being. Will add if it becomes necessary.

[Natasha hasn't done much with the simulation room. She's used it some, visits here and there to break up the monotony of station life, but she hasn't felt the need to actually create any sims herself. Never had a reason.

Until today.

Today, she's found the motivation to create a particular kind of little get away: Yelena.

That might prove her sister's point, a little, the fact she finds it easier to make something for someone else than she does for herself. That's not a point Natasha lingers over, setting the question aside in favor of creating a peaceful spring day in the park. The sun is out, blue sky with just a spattering of clouds peeking through the branches of oaks and elms. A few cherry trees drop flurries of pink petals. It's fairly idyllic.

Then she adds dogs. Not just dogs—puppies.

There are small wiggly terrier puppies, and rough and tumble huskies. Big clumsy lab and great dane puppies, and lean awkward greyhound puppies, and pitbull puppies the approximate shape and color of tiny hippopotamuses. Purebred puppies and mutts chase each other across the grass and run up to orbers to beg for attention with wagging tails and soft ears.

Anyone who risks sitting down might find themselves quickly overrun.

While she runs the sim for Yelena, she leaves the door unlocked. She's not planning on their conversation lasting all that long and she figures her sister might not be the only one who could use a little puppy shaped pick-me-up. Even if they're not real.]

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I don't dislike them. Just haven't had that many occasions to think about it one way or the other.

[Natasha's never been in the position to feel like she could have a pet—too busy, too much a fugitive, too much a target, and mostly too unwilling to be responsible for another living thing.

It didn't seem fair.]

I take it you're a fan too.

Mm. [ Finn didn’t want to hold it against her too hard; maybe she just hadn’t spent much time around dogs. The humans back home were pretty isolated from the rest of the world, and there was every reason to believe that it was similar in her world. It did make him feel a little sad to think about…]

I grew up with dogs, so, yeah.

[Another, larger puppy bounds up, leaping at Finn’s legs and he grins, kneeling to let it jump up and lick his face.]

Well…what about cats? You like cats?

[Something about the flavor of Finn's curiosity feels a little odd, but then dog people in her experience could sometimes be very invested in their dogs. The puppy does seem to prove a pleasant distraction, so the question of whether or not Fin was judging her goes unasked.]

They're all right. If I had to live with one, I'd probably pick the cat.

[They seemed more independent, and less likely to be torn up if she didn't come home, though that might be unfair to them.

On the other hand, they're talking about cats. She doesn't she's hurting any feelings thinking that way.]

Honestly, I never had time for pets.

[They were both talking at cross purposes here. The concept of pets feels a bit incongruous for this conversation, but then again he had brought up cats. People definitely kept cats as pets. Maybe that's what she was thinking about.]

Seriously? Aw, why not? Pets are fun! [The puppy leaping at him was still at it, biting one of the ears of his hat. Finn barely pays it any mind, just a nostalgic bit of rough housing.] Did you never have time for fun, either?

[He means it as a joke... mostly. Half teasing, half genuinely curious.]

Edited 2023-02-24 22:55 (UTC)

[Natasha's arms cross over her chest, a carefully casual poses as she rocks on her heels. She doesn't answer that question immediately—considers not answering it at all. It's clearly meant as a joke.

Being made fun of for being a stick in the mud is a small price to pay to avoid telling the truth.]

Not much, no.

[She clears her throat and shrugs.]

It's not so bad. I get to enjoy other people's dogs. It's like being an aunt: all of the fun, none of the responsibility.

[Yeah. They'll say that's how Natasha feels about that. All of that.]

[It was a joke. Only, suddenly, the punchline didn't seem so funny. Finn's responding laugh isn't exactly thunderous; more of a hum than anything else. The puppy settles into Finn's lap, receiving his distracted pets gratefully.]

Heh. Yeah, I guess so. [His smile tugs at the corner. Finn had this feeling before with her. That nagging tension between maybe I'm thinking too hard about this and maybe I'm not thinking hard enough. He could've let it ride, as he'd done plenty of times before. Maybe that would be the right call. Unfortunately, by the time Finn has that thought, he's already talking:] Yo, Nettle, can I ask you something? It's not bad.

[He thinks.]

[It's not bad. That's not terribly reassuring, but she thinks she can handle Finn's question, whatever it is he's got in his head to throw at her. Not answering is always an option.

So is lying, if she really doesn't want to say, but the idea gives her a surprising pang. Something about Finn's honesty makes her wish she could respond more in kind.]

Fire away.

[Her normal, slightly deadpan flippant mask squarely in place.]

[It's a mask he recognizes well, right up to the point of recognizing it as a mask at all. Puppy still sleeping soundly in Finn's lap, Finn continues petting it while he searches for the right words. It was comforting.

Nerves soothed, Finn dives in. Awkwardness makes the words come too quickly, running into each other.]

Where you ever like, a kid? 'Cuz sometimes when you talk, it's like--[Finn stops, taking a breath. When he does, his pace is a bit more comprehensible.] It's like you have just always been this adult person. It's not a bad thing, it's just that Yelena doesn't seem that way. And you guys are sisters, right?

[That's not exactly the question Natasha imagined he'd ask. Especially not in that tone, not as though he was ribbing her for being humorless. She's had plenty of that in her life.

Which is unfair, really. She has a sense of humor; it's been one more way to deflect from questions like this.

It's her first instinct.]

I didn't just pop into existence when I was twenty-three.

[Archly. And obviously.

It doesn't feel like a fair answer, though, not when Finn asked as an honest question. She huffs then, softly.]

Yelena and I had very different experiences in some ways, but neither of us had much in the way of a happy childhood.

[Finn's brow drew down at her sarcastic response, clearly taking this more seriously than was perhaps obvious. Natasha's course correction was immediate enough that any protests died before they had time to form, leaving Finn silent as he listens.]

Oh. [It's the answer he was expecting, but it still twists around his stomach unpleasantly. It doesn't occur to him to respect boundaries; there were too many questions filling the gaps in his mind when it came to Natasha.] What happened?

[Natasha spends a lot of time not talking about herself, and while some people do prod, generally speaking it doesn't take much dodging before they either take the hint or lose interest. As a rule, people who are thoughtful don't try to press conversations that are uncomfortable, and people whose interests are more prurient don't have much patience for being rebuffed.

There's something about Finn that makes it difficult to side step, though. He asks questions like this with genuine curiosity and a total lack of awareness that somehow becomes...

Maybe not disarming.

But difficult to refuse.]

You know, if you keep asking questions, sooner or later you're going to find out you don't really like the answers.

[It's a soft warning, giving him the chance to let it go.]

[For once, Finn actually hears that warning in her voice. Up to now, through their dozens of little talks, he always adhered to them without realizing. Like coming up upon a large stone cliffside in on a walk through the woods; it simply didn't occur to him before that there might be a path through it hidden in the underbrush, if you followed the cracks.

This time was different though. The cracks stood out, hair-thin but prominent against Natasha's otherwise unflappable exterior. He swallows, petting the puppy in his lap a little more firmly.]

Says who? Maybe I'll surprise you.

Edited 2023-03-04 16:27 (UTC)

[Finn is determined in a way that few people are. Normally people, well, normally they take the hint. Natasha is reluctant to share and most people who she'd call friends are reluctant to pry.

But here there's this kid who, full of concern and curiosity, does pry.

He asks questions and he pokes and now, face to face, he looks absolutely sincere as he pushes to learn more. Natasha rubs the bridge of her nose once, not out of any impending headache, but buying time as she decides how to answer—at the end of the day, it's not as though it's really a secret. Yelena has made sure of that.]

All right. [Maybe it's for the best. He'd probably find out eventually anyway, why not have control over it? Natasha takes a breath to steel her nerves—to prepare herself for revulsion, or worse, pity.] Yelena and I aren't biological sisters. We were both taken from our real families as part of a program to train young girls to be elite killers. The closest thing we got to a childhood was a lie. A three year undercover mission where we posed as a family together. The difference was that I was old enough to know it wasn't real at the time, and Yelena wasn't.

[Natasha drops into a crouch, petting the head of a mouthy husky puppy, but glancing at Finn.]

So. You gonna surprise me?

[He's a kid, and it's probably not fair to drop that on him. Natasha feels a pang as she says it, but it's not enough to hold the words back.]

[Finn isn't braced for a happy story, but that doesn't mean Natasha's words don't surprise him. They weren't terribly numerous, but what she does say is delivered carefully and with great precision. Natasha did everything that way; like walking a perpetual tightrope where one slip would send her plunging to her death.

It didn't mean she was stuffy. This was the woman who sang over the network, who made bets with him in bars, and who always seemed to have time for some sixteen year old kid who wanted to talk at length about nothing at all. She wasn't stuffy. She was just...

Finn shifts the puppy in his lap up to his shoulder, edging closer to where Natasha sit a few feet away. Without really bothering to analyze or question the instinct, he slumps against her -- shoulder to shoulder, putting his weight on her the way he and his brothers had done since they were pups themselves. Finn returns the puppy to his lap, where it promptly fell back to sleep.]

[It's hard not to think of his own childhood; one that was still ongoing. It all started similarly enough to hers, torn away from the family that birthed him by a cruel twist of fate. But he hadn't just lost people, he'd found them too. Finn found siblings, a mother, a father, a family, and a life. One he wouldn't trade.

Things didn't sound quite so rosy for Natasha, but he can't quite help feeling some newfound kinship as he lean even heavier against her.]

I dunno. [He says, honestly.] What do most people say when you tell them?

I don't tell most people.

[What else can she say? There are a few people who know, because they know about the Red Room or because she's offered bits here and there, things Clint and Laura knew, Fury, Steve though less.

It wasn't something she tried to share.]

I think most people don't know what to say to something like that if they hear it. And at the end of the day, it's not their problem.

[Finn huffs at that, unable to contain his own emotions about it under the same steady placidity. The story makes him feel angry, it makes him feel sad, it makes him feel frustrated, it makes him feel powerless. None of them were emotions he particularly liked, but they weren't all he felt either.

It also made him feel closer to her. That, maybe more than anything else, stood out the strongest. He flops his head on her shoulder, letting out a heavy sigh.]

Yeah, well. I'm glad you told me.

[Natasha doesn't have anything to say to that. Not at first. It's a strange experience feeling seen by a kid like this.

A kid who, without a doubt, has his own trauma and his own strange childhood. She's gotten just enough to know it hasn't been normal.

She shakes her head a little, dipping her chin slightly. Natasha rarely really feels shorter than other people, despite the very plain fact that she was, but just now Finn's head on her shoulder she felt small.]

Why?

[Realistically, she ought to be the one supporting him. She was the adult here.]

[Finn, who'd been nearly taller than both his dog parents at the age of four, was used to being the biggest one in the room. He was also used to being the smallest, dwarfed by creatures that scraped the sky. Natasha had no way of knowing it, but the mere act of having a conversation with someone who looked like him was still knee-shaking experience.

It wasn't just that they looked alike, either. After years of hoping and searching, Finn met the last of the humans. They were scared, cringing, terrified of the kinds of people that Finn took as his family. He pitied them, but he couldn't see himself in them.

Natasha, she was a hero. She was a Black Widow, and actually managed to live up to the coolness of that name. She could fight and hurt people and no matter how she got those skills, she decided to use them to help people. She'd made the choice. Maybe Natasha never told him that exactly, but he knew no one else can make that decision for someone. Especially not an organization that takes children from their families and makes them look back on childhood with the sense of haunted exhaustion he'd seen in Natasha's eyes.

Finn shrugs in response to her question, chewing on the inside of his cheek in thought.]

I guess... 'cuz it makes who you are now even more, uh. Special, maybe? Like you went through all that but you're still who you are, y'know? [He laughs a little, more in recognition than humor. An old conversation comes to mind.] Like, I bet that little Natasha who had to go through all that junked up stuff, I bet she'd think you were so... I dunno. I think she'd be proud of who you grew up into.

[He gestures out to the field of puppies, laughing again. It's not often you get a perfect example of your point like this.]

I mean, you did all this just to make your sister happy. Even if it wasn't like, real, you guys are still real sisters. I just think the girl you were then would be happy to know it wasn't all a lie.

[He's being presumptuous, but he means every word. Settling back at Natasha's side, he lets out another little sigh. It's less heavy now, more comfortable.]

Also... it's cool you'd trust me. [He smiles.] Thanks, Nettle.

Edited 2023-03-04 22:11 (UTC)

[The thing is, Natasha had kind of expected to tear up today. She'd just thought it would be with her sister, trying to find the words to make things good between the two of them. She hadn't expect it to be like this, with Finn. She'd say of all people, but that wasn't really the case, was it? He had a way of diving into some dark places in conversations, like he wasn't afraid of the caves and wells people kept inside of them. Deep places that held hurt and fear and old dreams, younger versions of themselves that they'd had to let go of along the way.

Finn saw those bleak openings and just couldn't seem to keep himself from going spelunking. The image would be funny if it weren't painful.

And, in a way, sweet.

Natasha's throat tightens and she blinks back the mist of tears at the same time she bites her lip to keep from saying something reflexive and salty.]

Special. [She repeats that word like she can't quite believe it.] I wonder if that's true. I think sometimes that girl would be disappointed.

[Natasha has failed a lot in her life. She's let people down. She let Yelena down. She'd let herself be guided by fear and survival instinct more often than she liked. She's only alive because she'd been willing to crawl across the bodies of other girls, sometimes literally.]

But I suppose it's nice to hear all of the trying hasn't been for nothing. If you think that, maybe I did something right after all.

[Another deep breath and she nudges him with her shoulder, leaning into him a little in return, like a cat intentionally relaxing to show affection.]

But I do think it means that next time it's your turn to tell me more about yourself.

[ Finn listens, content to let her work through the words she needs to say. The little hitches and barely perceptible hoarseness indicating her tears fall against Finn heavily, but it wasn't a bad thing necessarily. That was a battle he himself was still struggling with, the idea that tears weren't always a sign of weakness. It was so easy to hear his father or, more recently, Felix in his ear telling him to toughen up.

But here, like this, it was just as easy to see how they were good. He wraps an arm around her shoulders, anchoring them both together in the artificial field. ]

Heh, okay, it's a deal. [ Finn gives her a quick squeeze, glad she was on his good side. The cold of his metal arm didn't give him the same sense of closeness as this. ] I'm good just chilling a while though, if you want.

[ The dozens of errands he'd been busying himself with, for once, felt miles away. Finn could think of nothing he'd rather do than talk about nothing with his friend until her tears went away and he could make her laugh again. ]

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Open | What's better than an apology?

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