[ There's a little pause on her end. Whatever his intentions, it does diffuse her temper a bit -- if only because she knows that struggle all too well. Saying someone's "left" in this universe rarely means they stepped out for a second, or went for a vacation.
[ Like his friend back, and their fight over, and this migraine gone. And to have an easy answer for what to do with this client he never wanted to have, friend of his employee. And yes, that too. Especially that, right now. ]
[ It seems important to quantify it, to make sure she knows where and what's going on now, after their...serious discussion about his nighttime habits.
But as he comes in the front door, as promised, he thinks-- if the price he has to pay for being a superhero with her is getting exiled from his own bedroom, rather than dumped, or nearly assassinated, it's a win on his track record. He didn't expect her to let him back in for anything for at least another week. ]
[ And subconsciously, that helps, even if she doesn't really recognize that it does -- knowing when to expect him. She spends the ten minutes at least making an effort to not look like she spent the last day or so grumpily wrapped up in blankets (as her varied schedule allows her to, when she wants). Tangled hair gets brushed out and loosely braided for some semblance of neatness. A pair of his boxers gets commandeered for a little modesty, completing an outfit made entirely out of clothes from his closet, when paired with a stolen t-shirt.
She doesn't know how good she'll be when they talk face-to-face. She's still upset. Sympathetic, but not yet at a place where everything else has been forgiven. ]
[ They'll meet somewhere in the middle, then. Matt's suit is perfectly pressed, as always, until it's discarded for some set of hijinks or other. But his normally neat hair is tousled, and there's the start of a red beard appearing around his mouth and along his jaw. And it doesn't help anything that she's still wearing all of his clothes, in his bed, that she's thrown him out of.
But he doesn't say that, when he opens their bedroom door. ]
Hi.
[ He just takes off his tie, his coat and his shoes, wordlessly, leaving it all in a heap on the floor. ]
[ Anger is always her first instinct, so it's strange for her, to curb that instinct to try and give him something a little softer. She still cares. She doesn't want to see him unhappy. But at the same time, she's still clinging strong to her own unhappiness.
Finally: ]
Hi.
[ She pauses, then rises from the edge of the bed to come and meet him. Exhaling, she lifts a hand to brush his hair back from his forehead, straightening it a little. ]
[ Matt finds that he's tired. He can't back down from their argument, and he won't change his stance, but he doesn't want to deal with it today. Not even if she's still mad at him. There's a terrible migraine sharp as a knife between the eyes; he can't handle the tension of fighting with her right now. ]
Do you mind if we turn the lights off? [ His face turns, automatically searching to press a kiss gently to her palm. ] My head is killing me.
[ After a little pause -- a delay, distraction from the way he kisses her hand -- she obliges him, reaching to flip the light switch. The room goes dim in an instant. Her eyes adjust in the gloom. ]
D'you wanna talk about it? [ A beat. Then, explicitly, not shying away from the man's name: ] About Hank.
[ What he wants is to lay down in the dark and sleep for awhile. Or have a stiff drink. Or bury his head in her lap and let her stroke his hair for awhile. But she's invited him in to sit, and so he'll at least move to his side of the bed. ]
I wasn't aware I felt better about everything just by knowing he was there.
[ That in this strange, bizarre universe, which feels like a waking dream at times, one of the people he trusts the most has been ripped away from him. Someone whose help and advice he values. Matt thinks, after Natasha disappeared...he might only feel worse if it were Spider-Man. ]
[ She lingers at a distance, finding this space strange for her. There's a part that would prefer to just let him deal with his problems, because he hurt her and made her angry before -- but there's another part that just wants to make it better, make the problems go away, because her affection is just as real as her temper.
Finally, she comes to sit on the bed with him, and in a knowing way, lightly pats her lap in invitation. ]
[ It's healthier this way. Matt lets out a breath he didn't entirely know he was holding, when she invites him to lay down, and promptly shifts to lay down and settle his head against her thighs. It makes sense that their fights and reconciliations might be as emotional fraught as their happy moments, but at least she's willing to let it go for a moment. ]
Thank you.
[ For saying that. For not holding out, when she could have shut him out. For what he can't say: that at the end of the day, she's still here with him. And how badly this hurts, losing somebody he trusted so much.
The silence spirals for awhile, while Matt tries to let some of the tension and grief ease. ]
[ For once, she doesn't say anything. Truthfully, she isn't sure there's anything she could say right now that would make it better. Her feelings are all mixed up. But she remembers -- how Matt let her stay, how he comforted her, when she was torn up over Frank.
After a moment, she lifts a hand to run her fingers through his hair, repeating the motion lightly, over and over. Finally: ]
[ Matt deals with grief differently than Lil. Her outbursts turn outwards, almost immediately, looking for a target. Matt destroys himself from the inside, until there's nothing to stop him from systematically and brutally taking everything to pieces.
But there's no room for that here, and nowhere to direct his anger and frustration. There's nothing to do but lie here, and let her try and soothe the headache and the tension, a little bit. ]
[ The light touch of her fingers combing through his hair becomes something a little more solid as she rubs a thumb against his upturned temple, giving him a little comforting pressure. ]
Keep it, I guess? Seems like a waste t'ditch it. [ Not that she's sure Matt has any use for it. He's far more capable than most blind men, but still. ] Maybe if he ever shows up again, y'can give it back.
And then he can have a good laugh at his own terrible sense of humor. [It comes out dry, irritable, because it is actually kind of funny, in a dark way, dependent on the circumstances. He sees the humor in it, but right now it just frustrates him, and he finds himself relieved that she didn't laugh.]
[ It's strange for her to see him like this. Maybe just because they are so different in how they handle these things. She doesn't like not knowing what to do to make it better for him -- if he'd been like her, wanting someone to fight and yell at, that would've been easy. All she can do right now is listen, give him her company and her touch, for whatever that's worth. ]
[ Matt wants a target. He wants somebody to hit, something he can sink his fists into or at least a lead he can chase to figure out what the hell is really going on here. But he can't and won't turn that on her. It's not her fault he feels trapped and frustrated. It's not her fault he doesn't know where to start or go. ]
Until they drag him back, like they did me.
[ She helps calm him, at least a little. She's still there. And her gentle pressure at his temple is soothing whether he wants to be angry or not. He'd only ever intended to ask her to help him retrieve the car, not let her try to comfort him, with whatever scraps there are to offer. ]
[ She doesn't know why hearing him say that makes her pause for a half-beat, lips pursing a little bit. Maybe it's just a reminder of all the uncertainty, all the unknown possibilities of this place. What would have happened if she'd paid any attention the first time he'd been here? What would she do if he were next to go?
Lil exhales, trying not to let herself get unnecessarily worked up or too tense. ]
[ Her hesitation only frustrates Matt more, a little. Normally, when he needs to brood, he isolates himself for awhile. He'd only ever intended to ask her to help him retrieve the car, seeing as how he doesn't drive. And her frustration compounds his own, a little. ]
I don't think I know anything about what's going on.
[ She isn't very good at this. Talks like this. It's hard for her to express things in this subdued kind of way. And she doesn't know what to tell him, to make it better. ]
Well, it ain't like there's a lot t'do about it anyway.
[ She makes a point, but it's not the point she thinks she makes. But it's enough to make him think he's done here, that right now what he needs isn't comfort or sympathy, much as he appreciates hers. It's a good thing, really, that she offers it in the midst of their fighting. They're getting better at this. ]
You're right.
[ He sounds so calm when he says it, shifting back out of her lap to stand up once more. But he bends down and kisses her forehead, an instinctive and automatic gesture of affection. ]
Thank you, dear. I'll see what needs to be done to get the car on Monday.
[ It's honestly that calmness that worries her. She half wishes he would react in a tangible way, something she could see and understand. But he just leans to kiss her, that's all. ]
Hon -- [ She doesn't know what she means to say. After a slight hesitation: ] Look, I can get the car for you, if that helps.
[ Matt is already withdrawing into his own head, isolating his thoughts and his feelings. There's no point in burdening her with it, when his frustration and fury has nothing to do with her. He doesn't think that it must be unnerving, or upsetting.
She wouldn't like to hear what he thinks anyway. ]
You may have to, since I don't drive. Don't worry about it right now.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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Finally: ]
Y'wanna come an' sit with me?
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[ Like his friend back, and their fight over, and this migraine gone. And to have an easy answer for what to do with this client he never wanted to have, friend of his employee. And yes, that too. Especially that, right now. ]
Where are you?
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Bedroom. [ Previously sulking under the blankets, but he doesn't need to know that. ] C'mere.
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[ It seems important to quantify it, to make sure she knows where and what's going on now, after their...serious discussion about his nighttime habits.
But as he comes in the front door, as promised, he thinks-- if the price he has to pay for being a superhero with her is getting exiled from his own bedroom, rather than dumped, or nearly assassinated, it's a win on his track record. He didn't expect her to let him back in for anything for at least another week. ]
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She doesn't know how good she'll be when they talk face-to-face. She's still upset. Sympathetic, but not yet at a place where everything else has been forgiven. ]
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But he doesn't say that, when he opens their bedroom door. ]
Hi.
[ He just takes off his tie, his coat and his shoes, wordlessly, leaving it all in a heap on the floor. ]
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Finally: ]
Hi.
[ She pauses, then rises from the edge of the bed to come and meet him. Exhaling, she lifts a hand to brush his hair back from his forehead, straightening it a little. ]
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Do you mind if we turn the lights off? [ His face turns, automatically searching to press a kiss gently to her palm. ] My head is killing me.
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D'you wanna talk about it? [ A beat. Then, explicitly, not shying away from the man's name: ] About Hank.
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I wasn't aware I felt better about everything just by knowing he was there.
[ That in this strange, bizarre universe, which feels like a waking dream at times, one of the people he trusts the most has been ripped away from him. Someone whose help and advice he values. Matt thinks, after Natasha disappeared...he might only feel worse if it were Spider-Man. ]
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Finally, she comes to sit on the bed with him, and in a knowing way, lightly pats her lap in invitation. ]
I'm sorry about Hank, hon.
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Thank you.
[ For saying that. For not holding out, when she could have shut him out. For what he can't say: that at the end of the day, she's still here with him. And how badly this hurts, losing somebody he trusted so much.
The silence spirals for awhile, while Matt tries to let some of the tension and grief ease. ]
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After a moment, she lifts a hand to run her fingers through his hair, repeating the motion lightly, over and over. Finally: ]
What can I do, Matty?
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But there's no room for that here, and nowhere to direct his anger and frustration. There's nothing to do but lie here, and let her try and soothe the headache and the tension, a little bit. ]
Help me figure out what to do with his car.
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Keep it, I guess? Seems like a waste t'ditch it. [ Not that she's sure Matt has any use for it. He's far more capable than most blind men, but still. ] Maybe if he ever shows up again, y'can give it back.
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And then he can have a good laugh at his own terrible sense of humor. [It comes out dry, irritable, because it is actually kind of funny, in a dark way, dependent on the circumstances. He sees the humor in it, but right now it just frustrates him, and he finds himself relieved that she didn't laugh.]
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[ It's strange for her to see him like this. Maybe just because they are so different in how they handle these things. She doesn't like not knowing what to do to make it better for him -- if he'd been like her, wanting someone to fight and yell at, that would've been easy. All she can do right now is listen, give him her company and her touch, for whatever that's worth. ]
'Least he's back home now, yeah?
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Until they drag him back, like they did me.
[ She helps calm him, at least a little. She's still there. And her gentle pressure at his temple is soothing whether he wants to be angry or not. He'd only ever intended to ask her to help him retrieve the car, not let her try to comfort him, with whatever scraps there are to offer. ]
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Lil exhales, trying not to let herself get unnecessarily worked up or too tense. ]
Y'don't know that'll happen.
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I don't think I know anything about what's going on.
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Well, it ain't like there's a lot t'do about it anyway.
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You're right.
[ He sounds so calm when he says it, shifting back out of her lap to stand up once more. But he bends down and kisses her forehead, an instinctive and automatic gesture of affection. ]
Thank you, dear. I'll see what needs to be done to get the car on Monday.
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Hon -- [ She doesn't know what she means to say. After a slight hesitation: ] Look, I can get the car for you, if that helps.
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She wouldn't like to hear what he thinks anyway. ]
You may have to, since I don't drive. Don't worry about it right now.
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Matt. Are y'gonna be okay?
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