Making The Most Of A Second Chance
Over at the bar Natasha and Sylvie found a spot at the far end with fewer patrons. They sat down and each ordered another round of cocktails.
“Well, I suppose tonight went better than with Tony,” Sylvie said with a relieved sigh.
“Yeah, I had hoped to tell Matt about Loki beforehand, but I never found the right moment. That’s the only problem with dating someone so perceptive, he doesn’t give you much choice in telling him before he works it out himself.”
“He is quite clever—for a human,” Sylvie teased earning a playful shove from Natasha.
“Too clever for his own good sometimes…” she looked lost in thought as a small smile played on her lips, “You know, he could use it to advance his career—like Tony or Bruce… but Matt just wants to help people, defend the defenseless,” Natasha said fondly, “—he makes me want to be better.”
Sylvie smiled softly, “I know what you mean, despite his faults, Loki really does make me want to try…” she shrugged with a grin, absently thinking of all Loki’s mischief, “of course mine’s a bit less of a saint.”
Natasha laughed wholeheartedly at the choice of words, “I never said he was a saint…” she smirked with a coquettish glint in her eye, “he can be quite the opposite in fact… back in New York they called him Daredevil”
Sylvie arched a brow with curiosity, “and why would that be? Don’t tell me he came up with the name himself.”
Natasha chuckled and rolled her eyes, “No. From what I’ve gathered, before he had any real direction, he just jumped across rooftops and beat up thugs in alleys—”
“Spent his off nights roaming the streets looking for muggers?”
“I don’t think he meant to at all—not at first,” Natasha smiled softly, “Matt can hear everything around him—the people arguing in their apartment five floors below, the cooks in the restaurant across the street, and far too often, people suffering…”
Her eyes were distant, “He told me once that as a child he had to learn to control the overwhelming amount of sound, but I guess it’s the cries for help that he can’t drown out.”
Sylvie stared at her drink trying to fathom the burden of having to listen to every person nearby who might be in pain. She’d had to learn to disassociate from people on dying planets… to focus on her mission and not think about those she ultimately couldn’t help.
Those people would continue to die over and over in the predetermined order of time so long as the TVA was in control. Eventually Sylvie had learned to shut it all out, learned not to empathize. She felt an odd sense of respect for Matt’s resolve to help those people crying out in the night, to not shut them out.
“I can’t imagine being forced to hear the pain of everyone around me…” Sylvie said absently, “it sounds like hell.”
Natasha nodded, “I know it tortures him, feeling helpless. Often he won’t sleep… he’ll lie there trying to be with me—to stay present, but then that look will cross his face. The one that means he can hear something terrible happening.” Natasha smirked, “Lucky for him, I don’t sleep much…”
Sylvie smiled warmly at that, “He really is lucky, I imagine he sleeps better now that word of the Black Widow has spread.”
Natasha grinned coyly at that, “I think that’s part of what helped him in New York—the word of mouth—he became something of a boogeyman for criminals… ‘the man in black’…” she took a drink of her vodka martini and smirked with amusement, “the ‘Devil of Hell’s Kitchen’.”
Sylvie rolled her eyes but smiled nonetheless at Natasha’s infatuation with her vigilante boyfriend.
“I still don’t understand how he can ‘jump across rooftops’—you’re exaggerating, right?”
Natasha laughed and shook her head, “Not at all—I even saw a headline once which called him ‘the man without fear’—if there’s one thing Matt isn’t short on it’s nicknames.”
Sylvie arched her brow incredulously but Natasha ignored the look, “I’ve never seen anyone except another Widow do some of the things he does… and we were trained to put the mission before our own safety from childhood.”
“So you’re saying he has a death wish,” Sylvie said flatly.
“No, I’m saying he’s fearless—almost to a fault—maybe that is what I’m saying…” Natasha considered it for a moment before shaking her head softly. “I think it’s more about faith… he trusts his abilities because he has to, and has faith that he’ll find a way in the end.”
“Ugh—faith, it’s blind faith that keeps dictators and fascists in power,” Sylvie grimaced, thinking of the TVA.
“For people who put their faith in tyrants, yes—” Natasha clarified, “I finally have faith in something better…”
A wry smile tugged at Natasha’s lips, “You know, it’s funny… I spent such a long time running from my past… Then Fury recruited me to S.H.I.E.L.D. and it felt different—like I was different—but I was still a soldier, just in a different army… but when Loki launched his invasion of Earth and I joined the Avengers Initiative, I finally felt like I was making a real difference. Finally atoning for my past… and ever since, I’ve felt this responsibility—to protect New York, to protect my friends, to protect everyone.”
Natasha sighed and slid her glass idly between her hands on the bar, “After Thanos snapped half of our world out of existence, I felt more responsible than ever to keep us safe…” she looked at Sylvie then with an unreadable expression, “but now, I finally feel free. I now understand the second chance I’ve been given, and I’m trying to make the most of it every day…”
Natasha smiled and looked back at her drink with a small dimple appearing on her cheek, “So I guess you could say I have faith in my ability to do a little good in this world, and in the life I’ve built here—I finally believe in Natasha Romanov… and I believe in Matthew Murdock—and that gives me faith. Faith in myself, and faith in the way he loves me.”
Sylvie felt a swell of gratitude that Natasha had found this new way of life—a partner who supported and inspired her, and a renewed sense of purpose.
“Then here’s to second chances—and how brilliantly you have made the very most of it,” Sylvie raised her glass and Natasha did the same, clinking it against Sylvie’s before they both downed the last of their drinks.
- — • — - — • — - — • — -
Back at the booth Loki and Matt carried on drinking, their conversation coming easier now. Loki wasn’t entirely sure what had changed, though he had a sneaking suspicion that his title of ‘God’ had been weighing on the man.
He didn’t often converse with mortals, and rarely did he let them be so bold—yet there was something about Matt’s challenging and clever personality which reminded him of Mobius. Mobius—his first friend. Loki found he actually missed the strange man, and thought briefly how surreal it would be to see him here on Earth, speaking to other humans like this.
Loki was on his fifth dry martini and found himself feeling pleasantly buzzed. Matt was only on his second or third scotch—Loki hadn’t paid clear attention—but the human seemed equally if not more intoxicated as they continued on bantering.
“—it’s true, they do call me Lie-Smith, however in your case it is a literal profession—”
“Lying is not my profession—”
“No? The very job title borders on Li-ar, does it not? Law-yer?”
“That is entirely circumstantial, Mr Laufeyson, and quite frankly reductive logic—and it won’t stand in my courtroom.” Matt proclaimed with all the mock solemnity of a fake judge.
Loki laughed and shook his head, “Apologies your honor—though I’d ask that as I am in fact sitting, might my argument not therefore see it’s day in court?”
“Your ‘argument’ is a lost cause, counselor—push it and I’ll hold you in contempt,” Matt grinned.
“Ah, yes, contempt—many do hold me in that, though I must admit… that isn’t what I’m sensing from you,” Loki said with playful flirtatious tone and a mischievous smirk.
Matt laughed good-naturedly, “I’m sorry, are you actually hitting on me while your girlfriend is off drinking with mine?”
Loki waved the idea off as if it were completely preposterous, “Not in your wildest dreams, Murdock—and she’s not my girlfriend—she’s… something else…” he trailed off.
Matt quirked an eyebrow and grinned knowingly, “Something… more?”
“Erhm, yes…” Loki cleared his throat, unsure how he’d stumbled onto this topic, “besides, she would be perfectly amused even if I did—sometimes I think she knows me better than even I do, myself.”
Matt stared blankly from behind his glasses looking thoughtful. It made Loki feel exposed despite knowing the man quite literally wasn’t looking at him. He squirmed and took a large drink of his martini to temper the unusual sense of vulnerability.
“Me, myself and I…” Matt murmured distractedly before inhaling deeply and raising his brows, “well—I either need to switch to beer or call it a night, otherwise I really will need this cane to get home.”
“Blind drunk?” Loki smirked in spite of himself and Matt laughed wholeheartedly as he slid out of the booth and got to his feet.
“It’s been a long time since I’ve heard that one—back in law school, my best friend coined it pretty regularly,” he rested a hand on Loki’s arm, “and trust me, if I didn’t switch teams for him, then it’s definitely not happening for you now—even if you are a ‘God.’”
Loki grinned deviously as he got up from the table and stepped forward to tower boldly over the mortal, “Oh trust me Murdock, if I wished it—and perhaps did my heart not already belong to a truly terrifying woman—there would be little you could do to resist me.”
Matt picked up his white cane, smirking boldly he leaned forward on the stick between his hands as if to share a secret, “Then I guess I’ll count myself lucky—I think Natasha would sooner put me down herself than let you steal me.”
Loki couldn’t resist laughing at Matt’s peculiar sense of humor. He normally found it amusing to make a game of flirting with straight men to watch them squirm, but it was somehow equally entertaining to have this one batting the ball back across the court at him without hesitation.
He followed as Matt used his cane to move through the crowd, people stepping out of the way when they noticed the white stick. The blind man easily led them directly to the end of the bar where Sylvie and Natasha were sat drinking and laughing.
Sylvie spotted them first and smirked with amusement, recognizing the mischievous glint in Loki’s eye.
“I see you two are on better terms, tell me, how long did it take for him to hit on you?” She asked Matt as he approached.
“Oh he was a perfect gentleman, waited a solid hour or so,” Matt chuckled and rested an arm on the back of Natasha’s barstool casually.
“How disappointing—my love you’re getting slow in your old age,” Sylvie teased as Loki stepped close and caressed her back.
“Darling it was merely an afterthought, had I known you wished me to be more beguiling I would have worked my magic sooner.”
“Mmm, no, I think I’ll keep you to myself,” she pretended to consider it for a moment then tipped her head up to kiss him softly.
Natasha leaned into Matt and smiled at him fondly. She moved to give his cheek a brief kiss but he deftly caught her chin with his free hand, holding her there gently.
After the barest press of lips he smiled and brushed a finger softly along her jaw to sweep a stray hair back from her cheek.
Natasha sighed at the strangely pleasant normal-ness of it all. From Matt’s easy self-assured confidence as he matched Loki’s playful banter, to the oddly comforting presence of Sylvie whose sharp tongue and dry humor somehow strangely mirrored her own.
It was an evening that would have seemed utterly unimaginable only a year or two prior. Yet now, she found that she could think of nothing in the world which felt more right.