Avengers: Peace in our Time

4-Back in the Saddle Again

Samantha's funeral was on a Thursday. The following week saw a very subdued and quiet Dean. He spent a lot of time in the apartment he and Thor shared. The team had collectively decided that it would be best if Dean withdrew from active Avenging duty for a little while. Part of him didn't want to because he felt keeping occupied would be the best way to handle the loss. In the end, he knew this was the right thing to do. It wasn't very different from S.H.I.E.L.D.'s protocol. When an agent was met with tragedy, they were always removed from active duty and subjected to psychological evaluations and time off- whether they wanted to or not.

"I guess I should be thankful I don't have to see a psychiatrist weekly," Dean had told himself as he lay in the massive bed and hugged a pillow to his chest. He was wearing one of Thor's t-shirts and it swallowed him. It smelled of him and the comfort of it eased Dean.

Thor, for all of his inexperience with matters of this nature, did very well. He provided the perfect balance of giving comfort and allowing Dean space. He couldn't help but smile as he thought about all of the deeds Thor had done for him- bringing him food, putting his favorite movies on, and listening whenever Dean felt like talking. And the cuddles. Especially the cuddles.

Eventually, despite the initial thought that he didn't want to wallow in his grief, Dean soon became comfortable with his routine. Deep down, however, he knew that it was probably time for him to emerge from his cocoon and resume life. It's what Samantha would want. She had even told him she didn't want him to drop everything for her and let the world down.

When Natasha walked into the bedroom, Dean could tell that she was on a mission.

"Okay, if you don't get out of this bed right now I'm going to hit you with a widow sting."

Dean rolled over and threw the comforter off of his face to find Natasha perched on the edge of the bed, her expression firm but caring.

"I'm serious."

Dean propped himself up on the pillows and hugged his knees against his chest. "I know. It's time. It's just...this really sucks," he muttered. "Eloquent, huh?"

"You don't have to be eloquent. Loss and pain aren't." She got into the bed on Thor's side and put an arm around his shoulders. "I'm just glad you're talking. It was worse when you were quiet."

"I know I can't do this forever. And I really don't plan on it. I've been meaning to get up and try to get back to my life. I'm just honestly so tired."

Natasha pulled Dean's head against her shoulder and ran her fingers through his bedhead. "You've been through a lot. I don't think we need to tally things up."

"Yeah, I'd rather not."

Natasha kissed his temple and was quiet for a few minutes.

"I love you, Nat."

"I love you too, Dean," Natasha said. "But if you don't get out of this bed, wash your messy ass hair, brush your goddamn teeth, and join the land of the living I'm going to throw you off of the roof. I do it to people all the time, you know."

Dean started to laugh and Natasha broke into laughter alongside him. "Wow, I didn't ask you to scalp me like that," he laughed.

"Thor's worried about you," Natasha said in a sobered voice.

"Did he send you?"

"I came on my own. But he did accost me. Along with Tony. And Steve. And Bruce. And Clint. All of the staff."

Dean laughed softly and kicked the blanket off. "Okay, I get it."

"I'm not saying you can't be sad. You're allowed. Just...come out of this room and be sad with us. We love you and don't mind at all. And wash your hair."