[She laughs at that. Humility isn't her strong suit, but neither is pride. She knows what she's good at and isn't ashamed of it, but she struggles with doubt, questions herself at the same time. She can't help wondering if they hold her back because she's not good enough.
When he says that they are good enough she can't help sighing, a twitch of her lips as she looks at him. Because he knows her story, knows where she comes from and what shaped her, and why she's so sharp, even when she tries not to be. To someone like her, nowhere was really safe, even if the Academy was better than most, she still missed her place in the basement of a forgotten YMCA.]
You're right, I guess. [She admits it quietly, and there's a tilt of her head when he mentions normal family being something both of them were missing. He'd never talked about it before, and it makes her wonder what his was like. He'd been one of the few people she trusted, that was good to her back when she was held in custody, back in 7B.] I hardly know what a family is, really.
[It's a quiet admittance, not one that she often talks about. That even what memories she has of her mother-- it wasn't really of a family. It was her mother's tea as she slaved over papers and glowing screens in the lab, being curled under her desk, the heavy sound of the soldiers' boots on the concrete floor. Dancing, but not for pleasure, so her mother could imprint a code into her muscle memory, something they couldn't take away from her. Even Sana's family-- her struggles with her father, his new wife, were more than that. More than she'd ever had. Ivan had never been a father, no matter how much he threw the terms around of family and legacy.
She goes to the closet, sorting through the clothes she finds, trying to find some things in her size. A pair of pants, a long sleeve shirt, some basics that are easy to move in.] I know it's not the most practical. But I wanted something that was different from her. Everyone-- Most people already just see me like I'm part of her. I wanted something I could be myself in.
[She catches herself, corrects herself, as she tosses the words over he shoulder, because she's never felt that way with Rumlow. Maybe it's because she knew him when she was younger, but she never felt like he was judging her against the shadow of Natasha Romanoff The Black Widow. She was starting to learn that she couldn't be her, starting to get to where she took what she had and tried to figure out who that made her, but she could still see it in peoples' eyes.
When she walks back, she has the pants on, pulling her shirt on over the sports bra she wears under her usual gear, her boots left on the floor for the moment. She walks over to the alcove with the first aid kits, and after a little digging around turns up a few of the SHIELD standard protein bars and a couple bottles of water, which is what she settles down with.
She waves one in his direction, though it's half joking. They're not known for their taste, and the consistency is rather like congealed sawdust. Yummy.]
no subject
When he says that they are good enough she can't help sighing, a twitch of her lips as she looks at him. Because he knows her story, knows where she comes from and what shaped her, and why she's so sharp, even when she tries not to be. To someone like her, nowhere was really safe, even if the Academy was better than most, she still missed her place in the basement of a forgotten YMCA.]
You're right, I guess. [She admits it quietly, and there's a tilt of her head when he mentions normal family being something both of them were missing. He'd never talked about it before, and it makes her wonder what his was like. He'd been one of the few people she trusted, that was good to her back when she was held in custody, back in 7B.] I hardly know what a family is, really.
[It's a quiet admittance, not one that she often talks about. That even what memories she has of her mother-- it wasn't really of a family. It was her mother's tea as she slaved over papers and glowing screens in the lab, being curled under her desk, the heavy sound of the soldiers' boots on the concrete floor. Dancing, but not for pleasure, so her mother could imprint a code into her muscle memory, something they couldn't take away from her. Even Sana's family-- her struggles with her father, his new wife, were more than that. More than she'd ever had. Ivan had never been a father, no matter how much he threw the terms around of family and legacy.
She goes to the closet, sorting through the clothes she finds, trying to find some things in her size. A pair of pants, a long sleeve shirt, some basics that are easy to move in.] I know it's not the most practical. But I wanted something that was different from her. Everyone-- Most people already just see me like I'm part of her. I wanted something I could be myself in.
[She catches herself, corrects herself, as she tosses the words over he shoulder, because she's never felt that way with Rumlow. Maybe it's because she knew him when she was younger, but she never felt like he was judging her against the shadow of Natasha Romanoff The Black Widow. She was starting to learn that she couldn't be her, starting to get to where she took what she had and tried to figure out who that made her, but she could still see it in peoples' eyes.
When she walks back, she has the pants on, pulling her shirt on over the sports bra she wears under her usual gear, her boots left on the floor for the moment. She walks over to the alcove with the first aid kits, and after a little digging around turns up a few of the SHIELD standard protein bars and a couple bottles of water, which is what she settles down with.
She waves one in his direction, though it's half joking. They're not known for their taste, and the consistency is rather like congealed sawdust. Yummy.]