The Younger Agent - Natasha Romanoff x OC

Chapter 127 - Losing Dogs

2021 -

Eleanor had learned more in the past few years than she had done in her entire life. She'd seen the absolute depths of human selfishness, the looting, the attacks, the preying on those most vulnerable just to get on top. There have been countless times when working at the food bank that she had seen grown men pushing old ladies out of the way in the queue. Just because they could. They had lost the power in society that they had once had and were taking it out on the lonely old woman who just wanted a pot of stew because she didn't have a pension anymore. Eleanor wasn't bound to anything now, the world was more lawless, there were no Sokovia accords, no nothing. So she didn't feel too bad when she had to slam those kinds of people into walls outside and threaten to take away their ability to have children by kicking them harder than humanly possible.

In spite of this, she had also learnt the extent of good in people. The smile from that old lady when Eleanor fought to give her the portion of food she was so hungry for, the little pinch on the cheek that she loved to do to her everyday because her own granddaughter wasn't there anymore. She had seen how loss and grief could bring communities together. She had never seen such a group effort before. The extent of the crash of society at first was abominable, in ways that she doesn't want to ever think about again. But after people settled, and wanted their lives back, she found that more often than not people banded together to help others. Food drives popped up all over the city, people started showing up to health courses en masse to help out at shelters and hospitals. The adoption rate of left behind children was on a steady incline.

It didn't take away from the numbness that was deep rooted in today's world though. It never could. People were still grieving their partners, their parents, friends. Some were grieving their children. Even though a lot of people wanted to help, there were still plenty of children without a home, plenty of people without access to clean food and water; but Eleanor had to focus on the good stuff sometimes, or she wouldn't want to be here anymore.

Her hands were steady on the steering wheel as she drove at a relatively high speed through the street of New York, doing the drive back up to the compound. To home. She had gotten used to the empty streets now, the ones that could be driven like a highway late at night because there were barely any cars on the road.

Privilege was a word that Eleanor had become all too familiar with. She was never accustomed to being called privileged. She'd had a regular life in the UK, been orphaned and looked after by her aunt, who was by no means rich. She'd had a regular education. Earned regular paychecks at SHIELD. But now, living as an Avenger in a post-snap world? Privileged with a capital P. She was able to keep a car, able to afford fuel for it, able to eat everyday, able to have electricity, able to still live in the home that she had lived in before the snap, didn't have to pay rent, the list went on.

She spent everyday with people who could not say they had what she had. It broke her heart into pieces every time. She loved working at the food bank. Helping people was her reason to live. She loved hearing people's stories, making peoples day, playing chess with Martin at the end of each shift (she still hadn't won yet), seeing people bring their dogs in, the owners always giving them more food than they ate themselves, which Eleanor made up for by handing them more food. She loved it. But she also hated it. The guilt of being in her position made her feel like there was no oxygen in the atmosphere.

The handbrake tugged up harshly on her arrival home, with a creak as the tires skidded to a halt. She let it all out. Fingers tightened around the steering wheel before clutching her own chest as she released all of the guilt and grief that she had encountered today, not only crying for the people that she missed, for the pain that she felt, but crying and mourning for every story of loss that she had heard today. Every "my granddaughter would love you", every "you smile like my friend used to" cut right through her. But to those people she just smiled, told them to stay safe and come back again.