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avengers, black widow, completed stories, completely random posts, crossovers, doctor who, fanfiction, marvel, original work, short stories
I don’t know where this came from. Out of the blue, probably.
Anyway, on with the show and hopefully you all like the twist ending!
Love Is For Children
Love is for children. I owe him a debt.
He’s sitting in her apartment when she opens the door, holding a glass that’s half-full of untouched vodka, just for the look of the thing. She’s never been able to keep him out, not that she ever really tried.
“Rough day?” she asks, setting down her Glock on the table beside the door. He inhales through his nose.
“You should know.” Setting down the glass, he stands and walks to the window. “What a view.”
Natasha sighs and reflects on the fact that she knows barely anything about this man, except for the fact that his story is rather like hers.
Too much like hers. Filled with death and betrayal.
“Is there a reason why you’re in my apartment?” He shakes his head. There never is. The Black Widow doesn’t pursue relationships, but sometimes people ask for an in. He never did and she knows he never will.
For some reason, he seems to like her company—only her company—Natasha Romanoff, the woman who built her own life back up from the rubble she was left with when she walked away from those who stole it from her, she, Natasha, who knows the feeling of dust and ash in her nose and throat, the feeling of blood spilled out onto squelching shoes and the pain of bloody broken fingernails as she claws herself by her own willpower up out of the pit.
They’re survivors, both of them. And both of them are quick to deny the simple truth that they both need anyone—someone.
Though, maybe, not so much tonight.
“I met someone,” he says. “She was special and clever and innocent, but she wasn’t naïve. And… she wouldn’t run. It was nice.”
“So, what happened?” Natasha asks, taking off her leather jacket.
“I lost her.”
Love is for children. Love is for children. Love is for children.
They would be someone else’s children, now.
The record in the background was caught in one track, skipping absurdly on one phrase.
Love is for love is for love is for…
He walked over and lifted the needle.
“I should go.” Natasha gripped his arm as he walked by her.
“Did she love you?”
“She never said.”
“But you could tell.”
“Yes.” He inhaled sharply. “I could tell.”
“And did you love her?”
“Yes.” It came out, and it sounded hollow.
“Stay with the Avengers, Natasha. All of you… you’re all going to be legends. And they’re going to need you.” he said suddenly. Natasha swallowed.
“Do you want anything? Tea?”
“Make it matter,” he said. Natasha took a deep breath.
“Will you be all right?” she asked. He turned halfway to look at her.
“I’m always all right.” Then he was gone again, and Natasha wondered just how much—or how little—she knew the Doctor.
The Upstairs Archives 