entrancelogs | [Semi-Closed] Event Aftermaths

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[Semi-Closed] Event Aftermaths

Who: Natasha Romanoff and various friends/teammates
Where: Around the Manor
When: The days following the Mirror Event and Hunt for the Sword
Rating: PG-13ish?
Summary: Catch-all post for Natasha touching base with the newly-returned people who got sucked to the Other Side
The Story:

With the sword handed over to the Queen of Hearts and the Mirrors now returning to their own side, Natasha's both a little relieved and more than a little worried about what this will mean for the returningReals who were trapped over there. The fact that she's one of the only few on her team that didn't end up transitioning over at some point is not lost on her, has her wondering why and for what purpose, but she suspect she knows all the same. Which is why she spends the immediate first few days once more combing the Manor, this time searching out her teammates and friends she knows were drawn to the Other Side and making sure they'd returned mostly unharmed.

And if she had to start composing apologies for what her Mirror might have done over there. At the very least, she wanted to know more, if they were willing to tell her.

[[OOC: This is a Semi-Closed log for some pre-arranged threads to deal with the fallout of encounters with her Mirror Side, or the visit to the Mirror Side in general. Interested in threading out something with her, feel free to ping me!]]

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He was fidgety and awkward. Being thrust back into his own side of the mirror was just as jarring as being chucked across the first time. Slightly less painful this time around, however. He was ever so grateful to be back, but he had a slight problem with which he wasn't sure how to deal. He tries again to wrestle it off through sheer strength and it still has a very shocking outcome. One that left him on the floor for quite a while. Honestly, he had no intention of running around for the duration of his stay in Wonderland with the menacing thing locked around his neck. It was embarrassing for starters and painful on top of that. It hindered his strength and left him fatigued even when he wasn't fighting to get it off.

After a few failed tries, he manages to get a decent looking turtle neck shirt from the closet and slips out of his room to find the one person he's pretty sure can help. She was also the very same person he had no intention of telling just how he came about his new fashionable accessory. He owes her a visit anyway and if he knows anything about his mirror, an apology somewhere along the line.

When Scott reaches her room, he hesitates for a good long count before knocking just as hesitantly on her door. He feels like such an idiot, and he really wishes he could just get the damn thing off himself without involving anyone else.

Edited (Because I'm dumb and I know a little more about the collar now. xD) 2014-09-25 09:58 (UTC)

Knocks on her doors these days were enough to put her on edge for a myriad of reasons because at this point, she had no idea what she could be opening up to. Still, she does so, an edge of wariness in her manner as she peeks out into the hall, her gaze narrowed. When she spots the teen hovering in the corridor outside her room, there an instantaneous moment of tension, increased caution that flickers through her before it smooths over once more and she gives him a worried look.

"Scott?" she asks carefully, cautiously.

Normally, he would probably be able to sense the anxiety that his sight caused. He'd seen the tension in her form, but that was the extent of his perception. He'd been too busy from the moment he arrived on the other side to even find the right mirror to keep an eye on what his alternate had done, so he really had no clue what Natasha had put up with. Or Bucky, for that matter.

"Tasha, I need your help with something."

Any injuries he sustained on the other side were healing slowly thanks to the current. Still faster than humanly possible, but bruises would probably still leave some discolouration if one was looking closely enough. He could imagine, if she had just happened on his doorstep after he got back in, he would have been tense at first, too.

The collar is still hidden from her, but she can see enough in his body language and expression that something is wrong. She immediately swings her door open and motions him in. As an afterthought, she hopes enough days have passed that maybe he won't catch the scent of his own Mirror here - did they have scents, she wondered idly? Or would Scott just think it was his own?

She didn't voice any of that, however, just giving him a worried look. "What's wrong?"

While his senses are dulled, she doesn't run the risk of him noticing anything out of the ordinary. All bets were off when his body readjusts. She opens the door and lets him in, to which he gratefully accepts. Once inside, he drops to his knees, the twitching in his muscles was getting to the point he couldn't keep it hidden.

"I didn't--" He swallows hard and looks up to her. "know who else to go to. You know what I am and you're good with tech." He pulls the turtle neck's collar down to show the device, flush against his skin. "It's an electric collar. I can't get it off, but don't let it shock you." He didn't want her to get hurt over it.

When he drops to his knees just inside her room, she shoves the door closed and moves to crouch beside him in concern. When he tugs the collar of his shirt away from his skin, she sees the cause immediately, her eyes narrowing in on the tech he's now sporting.

Apparently she wasn't the only one to make interesting werewolf discoveries this week.

"Shit," she cursed softly, leaning in to peer at it for a moment, taking in all the details and hell, the tech was all too familiar to her. She knew what this was. All too well. "Sit tight, Scott. I'll get this off you," she reassured him, being careful not to touch, because she still had her Stingers on and she didn't want to make this worse.

Getting up, she crossed over to the nightstand beside her bed, taking a moment to slip the weapons off her wrist, placing them in the drawer and coming back up with a small toolkit, filled with tiny, delicate tools. They were the same ones she used for maintaining her own weaponry, needed to work on the more intricate workings her arsenal sometimes required.

Coming back to him, she opened it up as she crouched down next to him, taking out what she needed. "Just hold still for me, alright? I'll try not to shock you in the process, but you holding as still as you can will help. This should only take me a moment."

Scott nods when she tells him to sit tight and works on pulling the turtle neck off while she gets her tools. He still had his tee on underneath, but its collar left the device visible without worry of getting in the way. He glances at the tools when she returns and smiles weakly.

"I'm not worried about another shock or two. Can't be worse than every time I've tried to break it." He tries to sit rigid so his posture doesn't slouch, giving her more room to work. "Still as I can." He assured, letting his hands rest on the ground to brace himself. But something under his fingers catches his attention and he glances down without moving his head. There are claw marks in the carpet. He splays his fingers out over them then curls them down into the grooves. They fit perfectly. He closes his eyes and leaves it unsaid for now, guilt welling up all over again.

She's leaning over him when he speaks, her attention fully focused on the task at hand, so much so that she misses the movement of his hand, not even thinking about what else might be left as evidence of her unexpected visitor. Her movements are very careful and deliberate, her brow furrowed in concentration as she works on disconnecting the current first before trying to remove the collar. A moment later, the electricity sputters, then shorts out, leaving the collar around his throat inactive and no longer a threat.

"There. You should be able to get it off now. The clasp is sealed, though - my tools won't do anything for that. Can you break it?"

His entire body visibly relaxed when the current sputtered out. When she spoke, his shoulders sagged. He stayed still and quiet for a moment, but the effects were almost immediate on his body. He regained some colour and the bruise on his brow faded away. His breathing levelled out as did his heartbeat.

"Thanks. Seriously, thanks. That was awful." He admits with a sheepish smile when he looks up. "Yeah, lemme get my strength back." But he doesn't lift his hand from the carpet. Instead, he nods down to it.

"He was here, wasn't he? I've never picked up his scent before. It's a lot like mine--almost identical, actually. But just like over there there are subtle differences." He sets his jaw, looking more serious. "What'd he do? Did he hurt you?" The guilt weighs even heavier, and as easily as she can probably read him, she should be able to tell he's blaming himself.

She puts her tools away as she watches him visibly heal in front of her eyes, but when he brings up the matter of his Mirror, she goes carefully still for a moment, before sinking down to sit on the rug beside him, her legs tucked under her as she gives him a rueful look.

"Damn werewolf senses. I'll have to remember to shampoo my carpet next time."

When he casts her a guilty look, she huffs out a soft laugh and reaches out to ruffle his hair. "I'm fine, Scott. Not even a scratch. Don't worry about it."

A smile quirks at his lips when she curses his senses, but he's still too worried about her to drag his expression completely out of its worried concern.

"I don't want you to hide it from me." He mutters softly. "When he's here, I mean. Or... if for some reason I do something..." He turns his gaze up at her again. "A scratch is all it takes. Deep enough from an Alpha. And if it doesn't turn you, it... it kills you." He curls in on himself a bit. Normally, the ruffling of his hair would bring a bright smile back to his face. Though he leans into her hand, it doesn't lift his mood much. "How can I not? He targeted you because of me."

"Whether it's me or him, if I come at you, don't fight to disable. I can't..." He swallows hard again, blinking back the well of tears. "I can't lose anyone else."

"Hey," she interrupted him, a little alarmed at the sudden sheen of tears she can see in his eyes, because this is suddenly more than just his Mirror showing up here, even she can sense that. She slides around until she's sitting in front of him, her hands sliding up until she can cup his face in her palms, making sure he's looking at her, her own gaze steady and unwavering and serious.

"You listen to me, Scott McCall. You're not your Mirror. You're not responsible for what he does when you're not even here when he's finding trouble to get himself into. And I know what he's capable of. We had a very enlightening conversation while he was here. He was disappointed I wasn't more impressed, to be honest, but that's his problem. He left without so much as laying a finger on me and that was that. I was perfectly polite about it." Mostly. "Although lucky for me, he's no more fond of electricity than you are."

Scott looked up when she moved in front of him and captured his gaze, holding it there. He forces back his budding fear and anxiety as she speaks. He takes a steadying breath, shuddering it out. With it, he finds a stronger resolve and nods lightly. As much as her hands would allow.

"Electricity's your best weapon against me--against him. Those wristbands pack some serious kick. He won't touch you if you've got them on." Not that he'd been Stung or anything. Nope. Don't question it. "I may not be my Mirror, but if I ever do lose control, I could really hurt people."

He brushes the 'almost' tears away from his eyes. "Tasha, I... I don't think I ever want to leave here." That was a very, very deep admission from the teen.

Which is what reminds her of why he was supposed to be coming to her room in the first place, all those days ago. For the moment, she brushes the Mirror things away to be dealt with after this, because there's apparently something far more wrong than whatever shit Wonderland had thrown at them this week. Instead, she drags him close, careful in announcing any moves she makes before doing so, because they're both a little uneasy around each other apparently - and no she hasn't missed that, or that he has new information that he shouldn't. But that can wait as well.

Instead, she draws him into a tight hug, wrapping her arms around him. "What happened, Puppy?"

He's grateful she announced her movements deliberately, because he likely would have jumped or worse had she been as quiet as he knows she can be. He leans into her hold, obviously not unsettled enough to let it get to him right now.

"Too much happened." He tries to keep his voice level, and for now, it was working. "I thought I could protect them. Everyone. I thought--" He closes his eyes tightly, still able to see her face when she tells him she loves him. "What good is all this power if I couldn't save her? I'd--I'd give it all up to have her back. She d--" That time the word was choked off in his throat as it tightened. "It happened so fast." The words were mechanical; a mantra repeated until he forgot the meaning of the words themselves and only knew how to say them. Foreign and cold words. "One of the Oni got her and I was just seconds too late. I couldn't even take her pain. I couldn't do anything." He sniffles, curling in on himself in her hold.

"I don't ever want to go back. I almost fell apart when she answered me on the network. But, God, she can't know. She can't." Though he didn't mention her name, Natasha probably knew who the 'she' was. But right now, her name was a taboo. He couldn't say it out of fear. If he voiced it, Wonderland might realise and she might disappear from here too.

Allison.

He doesn't need to say the name. She knows exactly who would get this reaction from him and for a moment her eyes slide closed at the secret he'll have to hold. One she can sympathize with all too well. And that he had to go home to that at all. She lifts a hand and tangles her fingers in his hair for a moment, holding him tightly against her, feeling the shuddering breath he takes when he curls in on himself against her.

"Oh, Scott," she murmured softly, turning her face to rest against his shoulder as she held him. This wasn't something she could fix, or even make better. It was just pain and loss and there was no band-aid that would make any difference. "I'm so sorry, Puppy."

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[Semi-Closed] Event Aftermaths

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