The Crush of Defeat [Liltotto, Natasha]

Natasha was absolutely livid. There were no two ways about that statement. They were absolutely overwhelmed on the battlefield. It was a wash, a massacre, nothing even resembling a battle. Soldiers were lost, Liltotto had been hurt, and there was no general positive she could take away from anything. What could have they done better? Should she have chosen to fight alongside her partner proper? Would that have changed the outcome?

Her initial days spent in bed were spent battling with that one question. That bastard of a monster haunted her mind. Not out of fear, but out of regret. Natasha felt she had improved leagues beyond where she was when she first started, yet she lost without putting up much of a resistance. She hardly minded being humbled, but this was simply far too cruel. Whatever the case, morbid reflection of this nature wasn't her style. Even in the face of adversity, a soldier had to be strong, undaunted in spirit. Mark her words, though, if she ever crossed paths with that bastard again, she would be stronger.

And she would erase that bastard from the face of the earth, from the space of existence. Or let her partner devour him and make use of his corpse. Speaking of, she needed to visit Liltotto. If she was going through the pangs of regret, she could only imagine how bad Liltotto was taking things. Even though she hadn't properly healed, checking on her friend was imperative. Her wounds and bruises would correct themselves over time. Stumbling gingerly along the hallways, she softly entered Liltotto's room to greet the woman with a wave.

"Howdy, Lil'. How're ya feelin', sugar...?"

Despite the playful tune of her voice, she was no fool. She knew the answer. It was simply her way of trying to maintain some semblance of morale, futile effort as that might be.

The atmosphere was relentlessly tense. That was to be expected. Whether Natasha liked it or not, this wasn't exactly the circumstance to be singing a playful tune of any sort, to say nothing of finding a proverbial takeaway from their defeat. Somewhere in her mind, she wondered... who had taken the worst of it? Not in the physical sense, of course - Liltoto had an otherworldly durable that eliminated that option entirely - but the mind itself. Where was her head at? Knowing this woman over a year or so, her default prediction lied in the near-faultless idea that she was pushing her emotion to the bottoms, that she might eliminate the mere thought of expressing her feelings altogether.

I'm fine? Christ, Lil, I really wish I could believe that.

Natasha voiced that voiceless thought in the depths of her soul as she approached a chair by the woman's bedside. It was a struggle to walk right now, all things considered, but the trek was short enough to make it a pleasant little stroll compared to traversing the hallway. Sitting down beside her bedside, Natasha sighed softly waving her hand dismissively with a smile.

This room was chosen for a specific reason. Liltoto could complain all she wanted, but this is the room she would be occupying until the doctors requested her to go elsewhere or Liltotto forced her out. Since none of those challenges were presented themselves before her now, she turned her head to face the woman directly, a stern glint present in a gaze that was often playful and unassuming.

"I ain't all that okay, honestly. Made it down here through sheer willpower alone, I reckon. Far as checkin' up on others go, I'm doing that right now, sugar. We're in the same division. And even if we weren't, ya know damn well I'd choose visiting you first over anyone else almost."

Natasha firmly leaned forward - as best as her body could allow - pointedly bearing her eyes down on the woman. She had always viewed herself as a commonly passive woman, preferring to let things right themselves rather than wear herself ragged with the issues of others she couldn't fathom - such was the extent of her friendship for so many years. But, she was goddamn tired of that behavior. It was time for a goddamn change. Liltotto wouldn't like it, but she was going to force this woman to express herself no matter what it took.

"Besides, sweetheart, I know I'm sure as hell not fine, and I refuse to believe you are right at the moment, either. Didn't I tell ya its okay to express yourself around me? We were nearly killed, and your fine? Sure, yer body looks like its in acceptable conditions, but my spirit and this atmosphere says otherwise. You're not fine. I'm not fine. None of this... is fine."

Did immortality really kill someone's ability to recognize their own emotions? What a cripplingly depressing notion. Damage of this nature ran deep, well beyond physical. Of course she would be fine. Natasha was well aware of her alien existence by now, but what of it? Trembling fingers told her a thousand tales, the detached expression doubly so. She was trying to hide behind a mask again, hiding her true expression away from those who genuinely cared for her wellbeing.

Suppressing everything, deluding herself into this tenuous reassurance that everything was alright. In the past, she certainly would have let bygones be bygones, but that time had passed, and this was now. Backing down now would only make her miserable in the process. Fighting through the pain, she clenched her fist, slamming it into the desk. She wanted no part of this charade, no part of observing her deny her feelings on the subject. Holding it in was not going to help anybody. Those who survived were angry. She was angry. True as it was that she nearly lost her life, it was only secondary to pressing Liltotto into revealing her feelings.

"What? That's it? Ah, so just because your this nigh-immortal woman, I'm supposed to brush things off and ignore that my friend might be---no, is suffering? What the hell kinda' woman you take me for, Lil? It doesn't matter if anything can or cannot kill you if your being torn apart on the inside. Death ain't just a physical thing, ya know. I know yer tryin' to reassure me, sweetheart, but I'm not backin' down on this. Express yerself for once to somebody who genuinely cares for you, dammit."

Did she hate approaching her like this? To some extent, sure, but avoiding this would achieve nothing. Perhaps it was the anger from the fallout... or perhaps, it was quite simply a woman who had grown tired of looking at everything with rose-colored glasses.

"No kiddin'..."

An exasperated sigh exited her lips following her agreement on the notion. That they avoided that battlefield being their final resting place was nothing short of miraculous, but that wasn't entirely correct. Liltotto was close to immortal. Her eldritch existence was unnatural, something that defied spiritual and common thought. She survived countless battlefields, lived several lifetimes, and Natasha could not help but wonder - had she ever experienced a loss as brutal as this?

Maybe so, but even that mattered little to what she was aiming to accomplish here. At the core of it all, her intention was to force her hand here. Even if she lashed out at her, it was more than worth it to assist one of the select women she viewed as a genuine friend. Drawing her hand away from the desk with a soft wince, Natasha maintained her stance, hazel eyes observing those subtle shifts in expression and countenance. It was important to persist, no matter what followed.

"How does that make you feel? Don't talk about your immortality. Don't talk about how yer fine and everything'll be alright---cause right now, its not. Be honest with yourself and speak."

That's all there was to it. A simple question voiced more like a demand. She wasn't speaking to her as she would a superior to a personnel member, but someone whose condition and mental state genuinely left her with concern.

Her efforts were bearing fruit, her analogy proving easy enough to develop at least an image of the depths of her current state of mind. Truth be told, that was a relief, though her stern expression maintained did no favors in illustrating that. It wasn't her style to go at someone as doggedly as she use to back in her days a soldier in the army, but this was simply the way things ought to be from now on. To say that this nightmarish ordeal had been a humbling experience would have been an understatement of the century.

She had been on the losing end of war before. Thus, she was no stranger to the spirit it might diminish. Liltotto was unequivocally the most durable woman in their division, and that monstrosity had did enough damage to leave her of all people in the hospital. The thought felt so illogical as to be a cruel form of humor made at their expense. Yet, here they were, playing this maddening comedy out in its entirety.

Natasha had never doubted her ability to overcome and live through damn near anything, but after seeing her friend's bloodied and battered body on the ground... it felt so genuinely frightening this time. Resolving to never lose again, yet nearly watch the scene play out before her very eyes. It threatened to crush the soul if she were a woman of lesser mettle. Even so, she would persist. Because moving past this soul-crushing defeat was the only way either of them would grow stronger.

"...Don't go placin' the blame squarely on your shoulders. It's my fault, too, Lil. I thought I almost lost you. It was terrifying. Felt like a goddamn failure for not assisting you where it mattered most. I won't let you take that weight on your own... I can't."

The pain in her expression and her voice was palpable, an admission from the bottom of her core that encapsulated her own thoughts on the matter. There wasn't even a remnant of that melodious tone that was a present fixture in her southern accent. No matter how much faith she had that Liltotto would genuinely outlive her, the distinct iota of fear that she might have lost her still took root in her mind laid there, haunting her to no end.