The Eternal Avenger: Book Two

Chapter Seven: Explanations

(Natasha's POV):

A big part of me didn't want to leave the room. I knew that I was hurting Claray by not telling her what was going on, but I wasn't ready. I knew without a doubt that she would comfort me, try to convince me that everything was okay, and while I know she believed that to be true, I wasn't ready to be comforted. I slipped out of the front door, breaking into a jog as I hit the dirt path just outside of the gate. I breathed in deeply, relaxing into the movement, looking up and seeing the brightness of the stars as I ran. It was peaceful, late at night. It was always peaceful here, really, but at night with the stars and the moonlight, it was something else. I smiled slightly, understanding why Claray loved to shift and run in the woods at night. I imagined it was something similar. I was about halfway down the trail when I heard footsteps behind me, and I spun around still moving to find Clint sprinting towards me.

"Didn't think you could go on a midnight jog without me, did ya?" He panted as he reached my position. I turned back around, resuming my jog.

"I'm perfectly capable of jogging by myself, Barton," I said, my breathing perfectly even.

"I need to keep my rugged good looks," he panted, "Or maybe Laura will see something about you and Claray that I don't want her to realize," he teased. I laughed, punching him in the shoulder.

"You did marry up, Barton," I acknowledged. He faked a wounded expression.

"Did you have your nightmare again?" My silence was confirmation enough. I'd been having them steadily ever since Vormir, but they weren't only about Claray. They were about my family. Memories of the red room. Yelena, Alexei, Melina. Memories that I preferred not to think about any longer than was necessary. Despite our brief reunion, I was still working through mixed feelings about my past, and I wasn't really ready to go there fully. Not now. "Have you told her?" I didn't answer again. Clint stopped running, grabbing me by the shoulder, spinning me to face him. I glanced up into his eyes and shook my head. He sighed. "Natasha, she needs to know." I pressed my lips together, playing with my fingers.

"I know, but I don't know how to tell her." He nodded, putting an arm around me and leading me back towards the house.

"Maybe you don't tell her," he suggested, softly. I looked over at him, confused.

"But you just said..." he grinned at me.

"Maybe you show her." I frowned.

"Show her what?"

"The book." My eyes went wide once I understood before I blushed profusely.

"I can't," I shook my head. He grabbed my shoulders and looked at me.

"Yes, you can."

"I'll think about it," I agreed, headed towards the kitchen to make some coffee. Once everyone was out of site, I stood on my tiptoes, reaching for a small box on very top of the fridge. I opened the box, pulling out a worn notebook, curling it up into a tube and shoving it in my pocked. Maybe Clint's idea would work after all.

(Claray's POV):

I opened my eyes as I heard the bedroom door click open and back shut. I sat up on my elbows, rubbing my eyes, blearily seeing Natasha. "What time is it?" I mumbled around a yawn. She didn't say anything, but I felt her sit softly on the edge of the bed. I pushed myself the rest of my way up to a seated position. "How you doing?" I said softly, tracing my fingertips lightly over her cheek. She smiled up at me.

"I was hoping we could talk," she said softly. I frowned and felt my heart travel down to my toes and back.

"Do I need to be worried?" I asked, dreading the answer. She paused for what felt like the longest second in my life before she frowned, immediately followed by a huge smile.