Familiarity

Chapter 15

"Do you hate me?" Natasha questioned leaning her elbows against the bar in the kitchen.

Emilia looked up from the bar's table top, her eyes meeting Natasha's. "Why would you think that?"

"Because I didn't like you for the first bit I knew you," she answered simply.

"I never hated you, I just didn't want you to hate me more, so I kept my distance," she explained shrugging her shoulders. She looked back down at the table, where her hands clung onto a beer bottle, her mind wandering.

That happened a lot to her now. Her mind was always wandering and never focusing on one thing. She would zone out and forget she was talking to people sometimes. This time, she wasn't thinking of anything in particular, she was simply not focused on what was around her. "I'm sorry," she mumbled lifting her eyes from the rim of the bottle.

"Don't worry about it," Natasha smiled standing up. "I had no reason to dislike you when we first met," she started, her thought trailing as though she wouldn't finish it. "When I first saw you on that road, not moving and watching what was happening, I envied your bravery. That's why I didn't like you, and then I realized you're an alcoholic that is kind of lost, and it all evened out."

All Emilia could do was smile at the woman, trying not to take the comment seriously. It wasn't even an impressive smile, almost like a grimace. Natasha didn't think twice about it though and exited the kitchen, heading to her room. Emilia grabbed her phone from the table, flipping it over to see the screen and two missed calls from Madi, she sighed and returned the calls.

"Emilia," she huffed over the phone, sounding exhausted, "what the hell is going on? Where are you?"

"France," she answered lowly, anticipating her friends reaction.

"France! Why the hell are you in France? No wait, why can't your mother tell me what really happened at your apartment two weeks ago?" She was quick and to the point with her questions, only asking necessities to make her life easier.

"I can't tell you."

"Listen, I know that it was a terrorist attack or something, but I want to know why you can't talk about it."

"Because I can't," Emilia said again, straining her voice to sound irritated and loud while trying to keep it at a whispering volume. "I just can't, is that all you want to know?"

"Do you have an official statement you want to make about Katie Bug?" Madi asked, all professionalism back in her voice, it was clear she was furious with the way her best friend was acting.

"What about her?" Emilia questioned rolling her eyes at how annoying Madi could act sometimes.

"She's in a coma."

Emilia dropped her phone, let it slip through her fingers as her brain processed the information. She grabbed the beer bottle, chugging the rest of it and slamming it against the table top, smashing the glass, and squeezing her palm around the piece she still held in her hand. If she thought she was numb before, she was wrong. The way she felt now, could not be compared to any other feeling of despair or sadness, she didn't even realize she was bleeding. Even when she did feel the hot liquid run down her arm she didn't respond.

She didn't look at the clock when Natasha realized something was wrong and went to check on her. It must have been hours since she had left for bed though, and Emilia still sat at the bar.

"Emilia? Dr. Hate?" she asked not sure how to approach the situation. The sight of Emilia scared her, it was ghostly. The woman sat frozen at the stool, her back straight, eyes forward, and a pale complexion. "Emilia?" she asked one more time before reaching for the hand holding the glass.

She saw the blood and her eyes dropped from Emilia's face to her hand, concerned about its condition as it had obviously been like that a while. She moved quickly to the bathroom to get the first aid kit, not wanting to leave Emilia alone. She started to go to work on her hand, slowly pulling the fingers back from the glass, easing the grip on the shard. When she managed to pull the piece out of the palm, the woman didn't move, wince, or even acknowledge Natasha's presence yet. Blood started to stream out of the gash again and she stitched it up, not worrying about freezing it or anything because she knew Emilia was that far gone in shock.

It was when she went to dump the disinfectant in her hand that Emilia said something. Her face turned toward Natasha's, "I failed," was all she said before closing her eyes.

"Can you tell me what happened?" Natasha asked slowly.

Emilia nodded, as tears rolled down from her closed eyes. "I put her in a coma, it's all my fault. The serum was not ready."

"There is no way you could have seen that coming, it's not your fault."

"It is! It was my job," she sobbed about to rest her elbows on the smashed glass when Natasha caught her pulling her up to her feet.

"Let's go get some sleep, how about that?"

Emilia nodded, letting the redhead lead her to her room. She didn't bother changing into her pyjamas, mainly because she didn't have the energy, and sat in her bed watching Natasha, making sure she shut the door when she left. Laying down, she rolled onto her side so she was facing the wall that Bucky's room was attached to. She stayed like that, unable to fall asleep, just thinking about Katie, and how she screwed up so badly.

Around four Emilia finally started to drift into unconsciousness, but was brought back to her state of awareness when a scream erupted from the room she was staring at. She sat up immediately, the sound of pain in his voice making her cringe. She stumbled out of bed, looking down at her right hand, surprised to find it wrapped in bandage. She didn't think about it longer than a second before continuing on her way to the door. She opened it, only to find Natasha standing outside of her door to push her back into her room. "What?"

"It's just a nightmare, according to Steve, they are frequent, nothing to worry about at the moment if he's not hurting himself. I've been warned he will hurt anyone if they interfere with one of his more aggressive dreams. Don't worry." Emilia sighed sitting on the edge of her bed playing with the wrapping. "How are you doing?"

"How long ago did I come to bed?"

"Only about an hour ago," she answered leaning against the bed post.

"Oh. When can we go back to Washington? I have to see my patient."

"Dr. Hate, you cannot go back until it is safe."

"It'll never be safe, SHIELD will never catch all the bad guys, ever. I just want to go home," she whined, the longs days of hiding catching up with her.

"I'm sorry Emilia," she whispered pulling her door shut.

Emilia stood up as soon as the door shut and snuck to it. She heard Natasha's door shut and waited a couple minutes for the woman to settle down. She slowly opened her door and stepped into the hallway taking the two steps it took to get to Bucky's room. She wrapped her fingers around the door knob and slowly opened the door. The door was only open a crack before Emilia dropped her hand and stepped back in her room, breathing in deeply unsure of what she was going to do. She climbed back into her bed for the third time that night and actually fell asleep.