The Eternal Avenger

Chapter Fourteen: Patterns

(Claray's POV)

A week had passed since I officially joined the Avengers, and I was beginning to settle into my room at the tower, just in time to be told that we would be moving to a new Avengers Compound upstate shortly. I refused to give up my penthouse. It was mine, and I was keeping it, in case I needed to get out once in awhile and have some time on my own. Everyone had been really welcoming, but a few kept giving me strange glances when I'd past them on my regular laps around the tower. I was just settling in ready to turn on the television when I head a soft knock at my door.

"Claray?" The unmistakable voice of Natasha from the other side of the door made me smile.

"It's open," I called to her. She opened the door, smiling. "Come in," I waved my hand at the room in general, and she nodded, entering fully before closing the door behind her.

"How are you doing?" She asked, sitting in my desk chair as I flopped down on my bed.

"Getting there," I smiled. I had brought over some of my belongings and the place was starting to feel a bit homier.

"Can I ask you a question?" She was looking down at her fingers, almost nervous. I laughed.

"Of course, Agent Romanoff." She smirked and rolled her eyes at me.

"Are you ever going to get past that?" The smirk on her face widened into a smile and I couldn't help but chuckle.

"I just like the way it makes you blush," I teased. I was rewarded by an almost instant flushing red color moving up her cheeks. She moved her legs to be crossed under her in the chair – I don't know why this woman couldn't manage to sit normally, but it seemed that was impossible.

"You said you had a Havoc Year before you started to change," she began. I tensed up involuntarily. This conversation could go a few different directions, and not knowing which was putting me on edge. I nodded, unwilling to speak.

"How many Havoc years should you have had by now?" I let out a breath that I didn't know I was holding.

"Are you asking me how old I am, Natasha?" She smiled before ducking her head, shaking it slightly.

"Maybe," she smirked back.

"It would have been my fourth in a few years," I whispered quietly. She nodded, but almost instantly jumped to her feet as she fully processed what I said.

"Four?!" Her voice was a little bit louder than either of us anticipated, and I jumped slightly before nodding.

"You mean to tell me you're almost 1000 years old?!" Shock blanketed her face, and I grinned up at her, leaning back on my elbows on the bed.

"Just about," I admitted. Her eyes went wide with shock, but she recovered quickly.

"Those witch chains you had at your shop..." she started. Now it was my turn to lower my head.

"They were used on the coven, when I couldn't save them." I stared at the wall absently. She was by my side in a moment, gently rubbing my shoulder.

"It wasn't your fault, Claray."

"Wasn't it?" I sighed. I had been beating myself up about this for half a century. "They died because they helped me."

"No, they didn't." I looked up at her inquisitively. "They died because people are small-brained and stupid and are continually afraid of things that they don't understand." I nodded. She wasn't wrong. She continued, trying to make me feel better. "I wasn't always like this, you know," she admitted softly. "Before shield, I was a Russian spy." I looked into her green eyes, watching her. "I did a lot of things that I'm not proud of. But that's on me." I shook my head, smiling.