[for Natasha]

[manwithoutfear]

I keep an ear to the ground, though my hearing isn't what it used to be. Rumors spread like wildfire wherever there are voices to speak them and people to listen, and Tabula Rasa is no different. For the most part, the information is both trivial and of little interest to me, but then there are the times where I hear the whisper of the word Rapture, and I go running towards it like the moth to the flame.

I would know the path to Natasha's place in my sleep, but I keep up appearances for eyes other than mine, making use of the cane even after all this time though the terrain renders it impractical. I've been the subject of too many rumors myself to not know any better. (I haven't been as careful as I could be, even here. Call it living up to a name I'd rather most here never hear.)

Heading up to her door, I do her a favor that few in our community possess the courtesy to perform.

I knock and wait for her to answer.

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[widowskiss.livejournal.com]

Though she left it just yesterday, it feels as though it's the first of her hut she's seen in days. Natalia's returned to it only to shower and change, and now, standing with wet hair in her tiny kitchen, she finds herself uncertain how next to proceed.

It's uncomfortable, this lost feeling all the more unsettling for its rarity, and it takes her longer than it should to place the muted tap on the path outside as Matt's cane. It's not until she opens the door to the sight of him standing there, as strong and tall as always, that Natalia recognizes the weakness blooming in her limbs as relief.

"Matt," she says, wondering despite the warmth she feels at the sight of him if she has time for this. It's foolish, perhaps, to assume that the men in the next hut can't look after themselves for another hour. James can, if not Jason, but it feels too much like home, too much like chasing after James and seeking, against all odds, to keep him whole through each crisis and the next. "I...come in."