∆ {5¹} {ACCEPTANCE} ∆ 

THEY HAD DECIDED very quickly that it would be better if they split off into small groups. Twos or threes seemed to be the general consensus, and naturally, Roxi had found herself with Natasha. No-one had said anything explicitly once they had seen her letter - which she'd made sure that all of them read - and none of them had used her real name save once or twice, presumably because they were in no way used to it. It had been five months since the fiasco in Leipzig, and while Roxi had managed to recover a little from the contempt that she had held herself in after Rhodey's accident, she would never quite be able to go back to the way that she had been before.

Natasha wasn't with Roxi, however. The redhead had mentioned about her past in Russia and Roxi had abstained from going with the woman, because she knew that it was too private for her to be involved with. She and Natasha trusted each other to any extent, but there were some things that one of them would have to be able to do alone, and this seemed to be one of them.

On her own, Roxi's boredom had grown existentially and she had found herself filling her time with any number of things. It had essentially become whatever she could do safely and without attracting attention. Attention was something that she could not afford to draw, not when tensions still ran so high and the incident in the airport was still so fresh on the world's mind. 

Currently, she sat on the shallow balcony of her hotel room in Venice. It was the best quality one that she had been able to find without arousing suspicion, and overlooked one of the shallower, dirtier canals that was not lit as splendidly as most of them. Still, the view was incredible, and it wasn't so awful. The water ran hot enough that Roxi had been able to submerge herself in a scalding tub of it, to burn the worries from her bones as if they were the flesh that wrapped them. She no longer took showers, because she couldn't wash the pain and the guilt off of her. Instead, she'd have to sear it off.

It's taken hours for the water to cool, and by that point, Roxi's skin was raw, her nerves tingling with the heat, and her mind had finally been beginning to drift away from the events of a few months prior. But her bliss that she found in her pain, the one that she used to purge her mind of whatever she could, did not last long, and she found it fading, even as she watched the sunset reflect off of the water below her. A lot of things were temporary, but there were a few things that seemed not to be. The first was the guilt and the regret and the pain that was etched into the stone of her being, that seemed so dreadfully permanent. It had layered over the years, because Roxi had found herself in so many circumstances that inspired it. She had never found a way out of those situations, and she doubted that she ever would. Even when she had tried the hardest she could to avoid it, she always ended up in the same place that she started. It was irrevocable, and somehow, she had yet to become used to it. 

The other matter that she was not quite ready to accept, was that of Natasha caring as deeply for her as she did the redhead. Before Natasha had left, she'd made sure to bring Roxi close and to murmur a soft 'I love you', and while Roxi had reacted swiftly enough in the moment to return the phrase and press her wooden keyring into the redhead's palm for luck, it still felt frightfully surreal.

Before she'd met the Avengers, she'd never have dared to dream about meeting the person who was right for her. In fact, she'd likely would've thought that such a person didn't exist. But now, as her mind wandered to the redhead and she wondered how the woman that she loved was holding up in Russia, she found herself smiling. Perhaps she could allow herself to relax, just for now, even if it was only for a moment. Amidst all the chaos and the pandemonium that the Accords had left in their wake, she would always be able to find one clearing in her mind, and that would be the space that Natasha had cut clear. It had, by no means, been easy for the redhead to find a way through Roxi's walls, or even to let her own fall far enough to try. Together, though, they had managed to claw their way through reality, however violently a situation may have required.

Roxi picked up the beer bottle that had been set on the table beside her, and took a small sip, finding herself on the edge of pulling a face at the lack of alcohol.

Those situations, those circumstances however, were the ones that the guilt stemmed from, where flowers of regret blossomed from the agony-soaked soil. It was pretty, and it looked as if it had turned out well, but beneath that, it couldn't have turned out worse. Of course, Natasha knew that. Roxi knew it as well, and so did Wanda. They knew the icy eyed woman's mind well, one of whom it belonged to, another who had quite literally been inside of it, experienced the violence and raw animosity of her thoughts firsthand, and the last, who was the only person that Roxi had ever truly trusted with her mind. With herself.

Roxi glanced at her phone screen, which as still lit up from where she'd checked it two minutes ago, almost desperate to see if she'd gained a response in the elapsed time. She hadn't.

She was not a delicate person. She'd built walls around her so tall, so thick, so strong, that the only way that anyone would be able to get in would be for her to allow them access, for her to draw open the doors that creaked under the weight of the locks she'd placed on them. Then she'd guide them through the maze of her mind, towards the center, which would open up into that dark cavern, the one that oozed with droplets, with fragments and flickers of her past, of her memories seeping from the cracks like rainwater. Then she'd lead them to the middle, where a small jar would sit atop a pedestal, where it contained that familiar white flame. She'd move the pedestal out of the way after a few minutes, still admiring the gaunt shadows that the candle flame cast, and there would be the trapdoor. This would creak, and groan and complain awfully as she opened it, the wood damp and rotten and the hinges rusted near-shut. And when she'd thrown it open, letting the trapdoor hit the stone with a clang that she was sure would reverberate in a cacophony off the cavern's roof, her guest's eyes would find nothing but darkness. Their ears, however, would find the rush of waves and the howl of wind, their nose the drenching scent of sea salt. Then, she would gesture them into the gap, into the unknown drop. She wouldn't push them, because that would be unpreferably forceful, and they wouldn't know what they were plunging into. The truth that they found, once they fell, would be her ocean of emotions that seemed to scream so constantly with the sounds of storms that it would deafen anyone who dared to listen too long. They would likely fight for a while, thrash to stay afloat, before they accepted the violence of what she felt, of the workings of her inner minds, and submitted to it; allowed themselves to be cast away by the waves, embraced by the storms and weathered by the winds.

Until they understood what it felt like to be her. It wasn't a particularly pleasant experience, not after all the years that Roxi had spent fighting. Conflict, however sad the sentiment may have been, was something that she was entirely used to. One way or another, Roxi had been fighting for a very, very long time. Whether it be against aliens and robots, or her own teammates, or even her memories or her fear of being found, she had always had something against her. Now, of course, it was most of the world, and people that she had grown fond of over the past years. Of all her adversaries, these were the ones that she liked the least.

Roxi leant back in her chair, the phone still resting in her hand as she stared out over the canal, that blazed gold and carmine with dusk.

She knew that she shouldn't worry, not when the three people that she was the closest to could most certainly defend themselves. So, for tonight, maybe she wouldn't. Maybe she would set down her phone and her alcohol-free beer, and let herself watch the sunset until it faded into darkness, and let her anxieties burn as easily as a sheet of crumpled paper. It would certainly do her some good. Good was something that she sorely needed in that moment, and she hoped that it would be enough to carry her through the time that followed, or at least some of it.

She had no clue how long this was likely to carry on, but she assumed that it would be far longer than any of them would've liked. There was most certainly an element of danger that seemed keen to linger around Roxi at all times, but one night of relaxation most likely wouldn't hurt her, not when no-one knew where she was. Even Natasha had last seen her in Bucharest, where the two of them had been staying before they'd parted ways. Surely she was safe, right?

Roxi closed her eyes and relaxed, allowing the rich light to spread over her face. Maybe this would help her, and next time, whatever she did, would be enough.

{A/N:} Yeah, okay, this is kinda short, sorry. Infinity War is a quite a short film when you focus on one place and I don't want this part of the book to be only a few chapters long so there's probably going to be a few of these sorts of chapters before I actually get into the plotline of the film. At this point in time, Natasha is in the events of Black Widow but because none of us know what happens, I'm just gonna be vague and guess about timings.

I'm not particularly happy with this chapter but it's okay and I don't wanna make you guys wait too long so here you go. I hope you enjoyed, thanks :)

Pls vote, comment, let me know what you think, etc.,

1900 Words

Written: 04 / 06 / 2021

Published: 05 / 06 / 2021

JABBERJAY_011