Chapter 7
In the three days since Matt’s hands had been the topic of conversation, no one had since mentioned them to him. He was grateful for it, but simultaneously found it weird that they hadn’t tried to pry out any more details from him. Especially since they had made it clear they knew he was lying. The only hints it had even happened were the glances directed towards him, mainly at his hands, from Clint and Laura throughout the days and a few moments of conversation he overheard in the evenings.
Matt had decided to accept the luck being handed his way and similarly ignored his hands. If no one else wanted to mention them, he certainly wasn’t going to bring them up. His knuckles were healing well anyway.
Nat was apparently staying for at least another week or two and he wasn’t sure how he felt about that. For the most part, her company wasn’t unpleasant, if he was being completely honest, he even enjoyed it, but there were a few things that made him hesitant about her. The main reason for this was the suspicion he had developed surrounding her job and, in turn, Clint’s old job. It had taken him too long to realise but eventually he had put together the names and places he overheard with what he could guess about Clint and Nat.
He couldn’t exactly bring up the subject with either of them without having to explain how he worked it out however, which meant he would have to stay quiet about it until someone let something slip in conversation that he could reasonably ‘figure it out’ from. But, if he was right, the chances of that happening were low.
Nat’s presence had also meant Matt didn’t have the choice of being able to leave the house in the mornings anymore since she was always awake as early as he was. They may not believe him about punching a wall, but he didn’t need to lead them straight to what he’d actually done. Again, too many uncomfortable questions.
Living with such a small group was surprisingly much harder to keep secrets in than it had been at the orphanage. Either that or no one at the orphanage wanted to bring up anything they noticed. Matt wasn’t sure which was true, nor which he preferred.
Lying was not something he particularly he enjoyed, but he had gotten used to it at this point. Stemming from when he’d had the accident and not telling his dad what he could do. The lies had become more and more natural ever since, though he could admit that a large portion of them were not the most convincing. But when they were good, they were extremely convincing. It seemed he could learn from those he was living with, though.
Matt was grateful that he'd finally started school again and could return to his subjects, even if they were at a new school. Being so far from Hell’s Kitchen remained a very weird feeling. His grades had always been high, even before he really started taking his education as seriously as his dad had always wanted. His dad had always emphasised the use of his brain and to never use his fists. Sometimes Matt wondered just how disappointed he would be now.
It was one of the reasons he was determined to become a lawyer, though the ability to do good for his city was the main one. Stick would’ve had a field day mocking him over trying to do good with the law, probably calling him a pussy somewhere along the line. But he wasn’t there anymore, and neither was his dad. Neither of them could be disappointed if they weren’t there. Logically that made sense, yet he still found himself thinking about what they would say.
Thankfully, Matt hadn’t been in a single fight at his new school. People would comment about his blindness and grades behind his back, but he focused and ignored them. The mind controls the body.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
It was end of his first week back at school that his worries surrounding Natasha were proven to be founded. He heard the Barton’s car pull up outside as he walked down the steps, as it always did. His confusion began, however, when Nat’s familiar scent emerged from the car when she opened its door. Matt waited by the gate at the end of the stairs.
Keeping his face neutral as she approached was a difficult task; one he wasn’t sure he’d managed, though Nat’s presence was as calm as always. Heartbeat strong and steady, muscles mostly relaxed, Matt had no idea how she did it. “Matt,” she called for him and continued to move closer.
“Nat?” he asked, turning himself towards her voice as he let his original surprise seep into his voice.
“Clint and Laura needed to get a few things done and it was easier if I came,” she explained without any more prompting.
“Okay,” Matt simply replied.
Nat had made her way over to him and they stood amongst the swarming mass of people. “I’ll lead you to the car,” Natt offered with her arm out.
Matt accepted it. Can raised off the flood and tucked against his chest, Matt and Natasha weaved through the crowd. “The car is directly in front of you,” Nat informed him as she let go of his arm and moved to the driver’s side.
He reached out a hand, making it appear as if he was searching for the handle before finding it as he breathed, “Thank you.”
“How was school?” came Nat’s question after beginning the drive.
“It was alright.”
Only the radio made any noise for a few minutes after that. Matt kept catching himself fiddling with his clothes and had to stop multiple times. Worry nipped around him; Nat’s breathing pattern was changing every few moments as if she wanted to say something. She quickly proved his senses right, “You’re going to damage your knuckles again if you carry on clenching your fists like that.”
In that instant, Matt became acutely aware of the pressure he was placing on his palms as he tightly clenched his fists. Slowly, he opened them and stretched his hands to release the tension he had built up. Nat’s breathing remained irregular, however.
Matt was too focused on his worry to notice the car was slowing down until they had almost stopped. They weren’t back at the house. They hadn’t been driving for long enough and Matt could hear too many people around. He directed his senses to the car’s surroundings for a moment; they were outside a small diner.
Having been focused on outside the car, Matt had missed Nat speaking. “Matt?”
“What? Oh sorry.”
“Don’t worry. I just said that we need to talk, and I thought we could get some food while we do.”
“Okay,” alarms sounded in his head, “we can do that.”
Matt allowed Natasha to lead him into the diner. It was spacious and ad few people inside, allowing Nat to find them a table without anyone sitting too close. They were quickly asked to order, with Nat having coffee and waffles and Matt copying her waffles order. He wasn’t in the mood to ask someone to read out the menu for him. He also didn’t want to sit in silence for much longer. He desperately wanted to know what Nat wanted to talk about. But she seemed content to wait for their food before mentioning anything to him.
To occupy himself, Matt tuned in to the other people in the diner. A man sitting on his own at the counter. He was young and in a freshly ironed suit, simply drinking a glass of water, hand shaking slightly as he drank. He was nervous, his heartbeat confirmed it. Probably a job interview for a nearby company. Another man sat with his two children on the opposite side of the diner, laughing with them as they ate. His children were probably no older than 10. Finally, two women shared a waffle at a corner table. Their heartbeats were quicker than average, their bodies were emitting more heat than a usual person, and the muscles in their faces were pulled into smiles. He’d once thought it meant people were dying. Stick had told it was worse, that they were in love.
Matt was pulled from examining the room when he heard someone approaching from the kitchen. They smelt great, if he ignored the common smells that came from people’s hands. Fortunately, though, these were not as bad as the food served in his school.
He didn’t take a bite at first but listening to Nat eat made him realise how hungry he was, and he began to eat the waffle. It tasted the same as it smelled. Sometimes he wanted to just eat plain foods. Too much sensory input sometimes, but then he should be able to deal with that easily at this point. And he loved the tastes that came from food most of the time. Maybe today the taste was being overshadowed by his approaching conversation with Natasha.
“Matt,” Natasha began, pushing her plate to the side, “I’ve noticed a few things recently and wanted to talk to you first.”
Matt nodded.
“You hurt your hand on the tree, didn’t you?”
“I-”
He cut himself off as he caught a saltshaker that Nat had thrown at his head.