𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐄𝐋𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍 || 𝘊𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘣𝘢𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘊𝘩𝘦𝘮𝘪𝘤𝘢𝘭𝘴

"NAT!"

Natasha pushed off the wall and faced Nova who had Booker in tow. A panicked look on the Usoros' faces. Woken up and startled so late at night about their father being in surgery had a way of doing that. Their worries lay more in the man who raised them.

"Where is he?" Nova questioned, stopping in front of Natasha. Glancing down the hall, hoping to spot any sign of Cooper and Maria.

The redhead's lips parted, shoulders slightly twitching. Nova frowned, grabbing Natasha's wrist, laughing uneasily. "Nat, what's going on? Is he okay? Is he in recovery or a coma or something?" Still, nothing. The empty words made Booker's jaw clench, moving past the pair and pushing open the door Natasha stood in front of, avoiding Natasha desperately trying to stop him.

It'd been far too late.

"Dad?" Booker whispered, stumbling back into the door that slammed against the wall, glass shaking under the sheer force. Covering his mouth with a choked cry.

"Why isn't nobody telling me anything?" Nova spat, heart, beginning to clench under the restraints of fear. "Let me see-"

"Nova, no!" Natasha held the woman from going any further. She shook her head, sniffling. "You don't want to."

For so long, Nova had put her money on the winning horse. Hoping that someday, she might be given her earnings and a pat on the back or something. All she wanted was validation and recognition that went beyond her work.

All she'd wanted was a father who loved her more than his or her work.

Now, looking between her brother and friend, she finally felt the fear steal the last bit of life in her heart. Forcefully moving past Natasha and just making it to the door for her brother to grab her and begin pulling her back. But she saw Nick. His lifeless body lying on a stretcher.

"No," she mumbled, eyes wide with tears brimming. "No. No! Dad! Dad, please- Booker, please!" She slapped his chest, fighting against his vastly larger frame. Crying out for a man she didn't get to say goodbye to.

She'd been too late.

The two siblings crumbled to the ground, holding one another. Confiding in one another over someone who likely was undeserving of the love.

Like many parents, Nick had helped them float above the water. But when they hit the age he saw them capable of surviving independently, he pushed them out to the ocean. If they sunk or swam it didn't matter to him. And although Booker had been sinking for years now, Nova felt like she was right by his side. Holding one another as they descended into the deep abyss.

Natasha had taken the initiative to take Nova back to her place. Set up a safe place for the woman to feel safe. There was no telling what might happen if she was alone for the night.

The drive was quiet. Nova was not responding to anything Natasha had to say, and Natasha didn't expect anything else. They both handled their emotions in silence. Allowing their thoughts to rip them apart from the inside and out until they had to face them. Natasha knew how self-destructive it could be and she hated knowing Nova was suffering. And although Nova displayed her anger toward Nick, Natasha knew how much he meant to the girl. A lot of those emotions couldn't overshadow how he saved her.

Nova sheepishly stepped inside Natasha's apartment, placing her jacket on the back of the couch and swallowing the lump in her throat with a deep sigh.

She was defeated. Natasha could see it in the walk she walked and how she looked. The faint drag of her feet behind her. Shoulders slouched forward and eyes heavy from exhaustion and loss. A look is not fit for someone so bright and cocky such as herself.

"Nova, how about we-"

"I'm having a bath." Natasha watched silently as Nova walked down the hall and stepped into the bathroom. And she waited till the door clicked shut before the arm holding her jacket unfurled from the curl and grasped the kitchen counter. Leaning forward with the tips of her fingers pressing firmly into the surface.

Meanwhile, Nova stared at her reflection with a specific dissociated look in her eyes. A soulless void was found within those teary eyes. Tears slid down her cheeks freely with no fraction of her expression changing. Only finding the girl staring back at her to be a foul image of herself. Blood smeared across her cheeks and eyes staring back at her emotionlessly. A fractured part of herself that truthfully...

Nova couldn't tell the difference.

Running the bath, Nova slipped out of her clothes and into the tub. Her knees curled into her chest with her head resting between the gap. Eyes flickering shut with a shaky sigh.

A knock sounded and Nova answered with a deep hum. Not caring to lift her head when she heard the door creek open. "I don't want you to be alone."

Natasha's statement made Nova's hands slightly tremble. But she disregarded it. Gripping her calves, she pulls her knees to her chest. Humming again, letting the woman come closer and leaving the door slightly open.

Nova didn't like being this vulnerable to the woman. After the New York attack, how things turned out for the both of them, this was a terrible idea. She knew it and she hoped Natasha did as well. Yet, her feelings for the woman never disappeared and neither did she want them to. But at the moment, she wanted to feel something. Comfort, love, care–it could be enough for her to keep moving for the time being.

Natasha situated herself on the back of the tub with her feet on the edges. Hands gently threading through Nova's hair and tensing against the girl's roots. Massaging until Nova let out a moan of contentment, leaning into the woman's grasp.

Natasha smiled faintly, finding her sense of peace in the moment. Her eyes shamelessly rolled up and down Nova's bare back to see the scars of missions from the past. They were beautiful.

But her eyes flickered to Nova's hand, frowning. The metal band was wet but had no sign of it being wrecked. As far as she knew it held no other high importance besides style choice. But it'd been there a month after the New York attack and any time anyone asked about it, Nova had been quick to shoot them down. And she was sure that she'd be no different from anyone else.

With how everything played out a year ago, it's hard for Natasha to imagine Nova's outlook on her might've changed. And even now, she had no way of knowing what had struck the girl to distance herself.

Grabbing a body wash and loofa, Natasha poured the cold liquid onto the wet scrubber and began to run it across Nova's skin. Noticing how the girl trembled faintly. "Are you okay?" Natasha gently used the loofa, scrubbing the woman's back. Its rough exterior felt oddly nice against Nova's skin. Causing the woman's head to lull forward slightly, closing her eyes. Not providing any answer that might be consequential to the situation.

Because in all honesty, she didn't how to feel. There was resentment. All of it from the years of rejection she'd felt and feeling more like a soldier than his daughter. But then there was anger. For a man with so many plans, she found it ironic that he hadn't planned for something simple like being ambushed. How could he think so broadly but not be prepared for the smallest of things? It annoyed her so damn much. For a man having so many backup plans, the expectations had always been high.

"When I started with S.H.I.E.L.D., I wish I didn't get involved with the APEX suit," she whispered, nearly masked beneath the sloshing of water. Her palm rested on the surface with her hand slowly waving from side to side. "I think being stuck behind a computer screen might've been better. Always liked the idea of hacking. It just stroked the part of my brain interested in the inner workings of cyberspace."

"What about flying? You love that, right?"

"Oh, of course! I just feel like..." Nova sighed, her hand sinking beneath the bubbly surface. "I guess I forced myself to dawn that suit because of Martin and how things played out." She then scoffed, tilting her head. "But it does make me realize Nick was more forceful with me wearing the suit than my selfish determination to make sure Martin knew I succeded."

Nova tried to feel sad. She tried desperately to feel something besides anger. But couldn't he have held on a little longer? Even if it meant in the end he would leave her, couldn't he have given her one last farewell? She would've taken an insult instead of him just leaving her feeling like an asshole. The last memory she would have of the man is his disapproval of trying to save innocent lives and his unwillingness to own up to the coldness in his heart.

It hurt her more thinking of how Booker could've been feeling about all of this.

She froze when she felt Natasha's arms curl around her waist. Wet denim rubbing against the outside of her thighs. She looks over her shoulder to find Natasha already watching her. Uncaring to her clothes that were becoming soaked from the bath water.

"What're you doing?" Nova murmured, hands gently tugging at Natasha's hands, trying to pry free. Knowing the lack of distance would be the bitter weakness she hated admitting. "You shouldn't be in here-"

"I'm not leaving you," she firmly interjected. "I know what happens when you're left with your thoughts." Natasha pressed a butterfly kiss to Nova's shoulder.

Then and only then did Nova reach and grasp her hand softly. Interlocking their fingers and whispering, "Don't ever leave me, Nat."