A Father's Love (The Only Way He Knew How)[Natasha]

He'd been a damn fool. Struggle as he might to deny it, Johnny had failed in his duty as a father. He was, by his own admission now, a foolish bastard who lost himself to alcohol addiction, rotting away in his home as he watched the family he'd built for years crumble around him... all because he was too damn stubborn to make amends. What did he have to show for it now? His wife kept her distance, and neither of his daughters held a desire in keepin' contact with him.

And why would he blame them? The flask proved to be his best friend over time. It never questioned him. It never rebelled. Never went out on some pointless mission that only made things worse. This silver container only whispered honeyed words, spoke sweet nothings, and numbed the senses. He reckoned that's what made him lose touch with the world. Sure, he'd been a heavy alcoholic in the past, but he'd been one hell of a dad, too. A hallmark husband. Why hadn't Nat just listened to him for once?

Damned lass' had a whole future just waitin' for her, and she just chose to... chose to... Ah, that's right. She chose to stand up for what she believed in, for better or worse. And it hadn't just been her, either.The three most important women in his life went off to protect the city and state he'd come to love, and what did he do? He stood on the sidelines like a coward. Worse still, when it all came crumbling down, he lashed out at her, treated her like the damn bubonic plague.

...Christ, he really was a piece of work. A real mess of a man with nothin' to show for. Still, he felt it wasn't too late to make amends, foolish as the notion was. It took him turning on the television to hear about the mess that happened in the City Of Lights to sober him up. That was where all those youngins' went to join the Vandenreich of the new generation, right? He did his research, browsed through public records, and discovered that his baby girl had made a name for herself' as a coordinator in the Sternritter. No sooner than he'd discovered that, a near-crippling fear had set into his spirits. Had she fought in that battle? Had she been a brave soldier to the bitter end? Did she... die?

No, he had to have faith in her. He wanted to have faith that she was still kickin'. He didn't care if she turned him away at the door after he'd made his way through the entire city. He didn't care about the array of ridiculing looks he received when he asked others where she resided, claiming to be her father. He just wanted to see her alive and well. Apologize for dropping all source of contact with her. After what felt like hours after he arrived, the haggard man stumbled toward her door. It even had her name on it. Natasha Miller. His pride and joy. Coughing roughly, the haggard man knocked at the door, a little louder than was necessary. There was a heavy unease in his spirits that guided his hand as he frantically knocked at her door, but he just had to see her. If she chewed him out, he could deal with it, but... he just wanted to know she was okay. That would mean the world to him.

There was no particular event that kept Natasha busy today. If anything, it was a routine day that featured nothing of real value beyond honoring her duties as a coordinator and overseeing any paperwork her superiors wanted to pass on to her to lessen the workload. Everything had been properly accounted for, and she allowed herself a moment of relaxation by browsing through her laptop, filling her time with humorous entertainment on the internet. She was well relaxed until a furious knock at the door drew her attention away from the screen. She wasn't particularly busy, and so she had to wonder about who might be knocking on her door in the middle of the afternoon.

Was it one of her buddies in the Reich? Or a soldat delivering some information? Shrugging her shoulders softly, the vibrant woman rose up from her bed, fixing the white shirt that hung loosely around her body. She didn't really feel the need to get super decent, and it wasn't as if she intended to let them come in if it was just information that needed to be passed along. Go to the door and grab the info. Easy. After making her way downstairs, Natasha wrapped her fingers around the golden knob, and pulled the door open, expecting any of her initial thoughts to be correct.

A soldat, a peer, or even a friend. Instead of any of those options, the passing door revealed the tall and haggard form of a man she hadn't seen in a while. Truth be told, a while didn't even begin to do it justice. He had cut all contact with her for years. Rendered speechless before she could even utter a single word, Natasha stared on, dumbfounded, as if she had seen a ghost. Why was her father here...?

"...Dad?"

"...I can't believe it. My god... it really is you. Natasha... I..."

It was rather cliche for a grizzly old relic like him, but for a single moment, he felt as if time froze the moment she opened the door. His eyes barely paid attention to the fact that she wasn't properly decent, and even if he recognized it, Johnny didn't give a damn. His daughter was standing there like a deer in the headlights, but she was still standing, still breathing, still inspiring others around her. The civilians who bothered to offer information spoke good things about her. A class act. A pleasant woman. A fine coordinator. There were many regrets in his life, far too many to recount. Natasha wasn't one of them. Silence set in. He contemplated his words. Johnny rarely found himself tongue-tied, and here he was, staring at the woman with the same damnable silence.

Jesus Christ, Johnny. Say Something! You haven't seen her in years, and now you're just staring at her like you've seen a ghost!

Naturally, for a man who wore his pride on his sleeves, the notion of admitting he was nervous, of admitting that he had not an iota of an idea of what to say here, proved to be far more difficult than he imagined. Forget about pride - he lost that along time ago. What was he supposed to say? Hey, Nat. I'm sorry I cut off all contact with you because I was upset with you. Did she even want to address it? With no other option, he simply let his mind default to a question. None of this would matter if she didn't let him in.

"May I... come in? I'm sorry if I've disturbed you..."

Natasha expected anyone in particular to grace her door. She was a friendly neighbor in her section of the COL, to say nothing of her rapport in the Vandenreich. Ordinarily speaking, it was commonplace now to receive a visit. It wasn't some unusual out of place event that happened once in a blue moon - she was a people person, after all. This, though? Far from her comfort zone. Fate could have had any one of her peers at the door, and she could've cleverly transitioned into some her special brand of humor. Unfortunately, she was not properly prepared to deal with this in any way she could call ideal. Truth be told, part of her genuinely contemplated closing the door.

A simple gaze at his face had caused countless - somewhat repressed - memories to rush to the surface. Like a rush of water breaking through the dam, she recalled every memory she shared with this man, both good and bad. Natasha had vowed to escape that past. He had cut her off contact with her for a long time, after all. He reminded her of her failures, of everything she wished she could take back. For a man she once thought was her hero, her father had left her to figure out life on her own.

Fortunately, even if she felt it against her better judgment, Natasha had matured enough to realize both of them were wrong. No, more than that, she had spent her days around others with their own past, their own struggles, their own torment. Each day spent around them had left her with a greater sense of clarity, as if she had been enlightened on appreciating the bigger picture. Life was short, and she wasn't going to keep living her days in misery. She had too much to protect now to fall back into that dark place.

"...Relax, pops. Come in, and I'll talk with ya shortly. If your hungry, I just got finished' eatin' somethin' from earlier. I can't imagine your trip here was easy, and... I know we've got a lot to talk about."

Or so she assumed, at least. She was prepared for whatever he had to say. If it was to make peace? Good. If he was going to remind her of something she did wrong? Fine. Either way, she was resolved to face this with a level-headed state of mind.

"...."

Natasha's answer left him frozen in shock. He half-expected her to roll her eyes, close the door on his face, and never speak to him again. On one hand, he considered the act a blessing from the heavens that he didn't have to beg her to come in. On the other, he still came back to the damnable conclusion that rendered him unable to address the elephant in the room. In other words, Johnny realized he was not properly equipped for this sort of emotional moment. He never wore his emotions on his sleeve. Raised in an environment where preservation and survival were valued over familial bonding, he had no example to rely on in addressing his daughter.

Obviously, the first thing he wanted to do was apologize to her. Yet even that proved difficult, his mind still unable to properly find the words he felt she needed to hear. To begin with, did she even want to hear them? He wasn't familiar with this, and it showed. He, who was commonly a confident man with a bottle in his hand, found himself sobered up by the crippling reality of the struggle that currently faced him. Fortunately, he would be allowed a moment of reprieve as she stepped from the door, motioning for him to close it. For now, he needed to sit down. Get his head back in the damn game. Otherwise, even he wouldn't want to face himself after this.

"What the hell am I doing?"

Honestly? Even she wondered about that. Stepping away to find some clothing she felt more comfortable in for a situation like this, she couldn't help but catch the question he vocalized to himself. At the very least, she believed she was well-equipped to deal whatever bothered him. If it was a pleasant reunion? Cool. She didn't wish to seem insincere about that, but there was a clear neutrality that she had developed regarding the man. As luck would have it, though, she still cared about him, still respected him as the one who taught her every skill she knew as a Quincy.

Quite frankly, he was the entire reason she could operate as a Sternritter Coordinator now. If nothing else, she felt he deserved an opportunity to speak his peace. Depending on how things unfolded, maybe they could walk away with positive emotions on both sides. Part of her had to admit she was hoping that was the case. The ball was in his court at this point. After taking the time to find a pair of free-flowing - if not baggy - pants and an equally loose fitting shirt, Natasha made her way to the kitchen first, microwaving the generous amount of leftover seasoned chicken and rice she had prepared earlier.

Preparing the plates in less than a minute or so, the star-spangled sharpshooter returned to the room where her scatterbrained father sat on the couch. Setting the plate of reheated food on his side, Natasha sat down in a chair across from the couch. The sheer casual nature of the way she was approaching this almost made her seem a little frigid, but the warm smile on her face would certainly dispel any fear the man had developed. Pointing her finger as though she were firing a gun, she decided to get right to the point of the matter here.

"Now, then... have you gotten over your stage fright, yet? I'm not use to seein' you quiet for long, Pops."

In what seemed like forever between the time she took to prepare herself and prepare something for them to eat, Johnny breathed deeply to regain the composure that carried him all the way to the city of lights, that carried him all the way here. Only a select few could blame the man, though. His daughter's reaction had thrown him for a loop. Sure, she was his father, but that alone didn't mean he was worthy of any respect after recent events.

Of course, once he recognized that he'd went in precisely because he knew it might go ugly, Johnny found his focus again. By all rights, this was the ideal outcome he could've asked for. A table to speak his piece, open ears, and a plate of food. Right. Okay. Deep breaths, cowboy. Rubbing his temples, Johnny would grab a fork, digging into a small piece of chicken as he gazed at his daughter.

Alright, it was time to address the main elephant in the room. Well, no. He didn't want to go to that part of the conversation just yet. He was actually going to go at it from a different angle here. His pride as a father naturally led him to speak on how proud he was to see her again, converse on all the accomplishments and accolades he picked up about her during the trip.

"Yea... I think I've gotten most of the pesky jitters out. Thanks for bein' so understanding, Nat. So... the Vandenreich, eh? How have things been since you've been here? I never would have thought I'd see you joinin' an entire crew of Quincy, but here you are. It took me a minute to provide proof that I was your father and not some rando' stranger bein' a creepy stalker, but once I did, you won't believe all the good things they had to say about ya. Honestly, maybe you don't want to hear it... but Nat, I truly am proud of ya' for keepin' up the good fight. Words can't really describe how happy I am to see where you are now, to see the people you've inspired..."

He certainly had more to say, there was no doubting that. He had plenty to talk about, but he didn't want to impede on her time with anything but the important matters here. And, by god, he definitely wasn't going to leave out how proud he was to see the woman she was today. That'd go against any honor he had left in his weary spirit. He didn't care about the reaction, didn't care about what she might say, he just wanted to let her know... that he was proud of her. Everything else could come in a few moments.

"Heh, that so? Sorry about that, pops. Most of us have been on edge with security after the recent attack. Can't say I'm surprised they gave ya' such a fuss"

Chortling softly, a teasing grin curved across the woman's lips as she rubbed the back of her head. It wasn't entirely out of the question for them to give her father a hard time before entering. She hadn't mentioned him much, if at all, when she settled in. Up until now, he had been the furthest thing from her mind. They hadn't ended on good terms, and Natasha needed an exit ticket from Texas after the fallout.

In other words, once she lost the support from her dad, there really was nothing left for her to gain living there. If it weren't for the phone call she had received from her former superior in the spirit division in the army, she likely never would have crossed paths with the Vandenreich to begin with. That was a depressive train of thought, though, and so she decided to respond to draw her focus back to the man sitting opposite of her, her expression more solemn, searching for the proper way to reply to his words.

"It wasn't easy, ya' know. I'm flattered, honestly, but I recall you bein' vehemently angry about me fightin' the good fight in the past, made me feel like a damn fool in fact. Papa's little girl had to grow up and fend for herself, but she made out well enough in the end. Found a group of people she wouldn't trade for the world. Brutal honesty aside, I'm happy you seem to have changed your tune, pops."

To be certain, Natasha had naturally intended to reply with the respect he had shown her. Some part of her just couldn't do it, though. She didn't hate him, and there was no particularly ill-will on her part. Honesty was a policy in his books, and Natasha was sure he'd understand why she expressed herself this way. The best road to recovery for both of them was hashing this out now, and getting to the real purpose of this conversation.

Cutting straight to the point, huh? Heh, he supposed that was to be expected. The divide in their bond ended on bitter terms, after all. Harsh words were exchanged, distance was created, and he didn't bother to keep in contact. There was no sugarcoating it, and he'd be a damn liar to reckon that she would change her tune so easily because of the past. Even so, he had to persist.

"Nah. Let loose as much as you like, Nat. Don't hold back for my sake, ya hear'? The way I handled things back then was foolish an' misguided. I ain't exactly beggin' forgiveness here, either. I want to make amends, Nat. I'm gettin' up there in age, and I can't bear a damnable world without my daughters in it."

He paused for a moment, moving his food off to the side, holding the woman's hazel eyes with a pained expression. Johnny didn't have the function to cry, but the pain was evident. The loss, the shame, the miserable countenance - all telltale signs of a man who had lost much more than he could handle.

Did he expect Natasha to wrap him up into her arms? Tell him that she wanted to make amends, too? Course not. Yet, that didn't matter anymore than it had before. He had resolved himself for this moment, steeled his heart for the possibility of rejection.

"You're so much stronger than me, Nat. Always had the heart of a lion. Ya' never accepted the status quo, never settled into lettin' people walk all over ya. Back then... I should have did the same. I should have joined you, been prepared to lay down my life to drive those bastards back'. I know that means nothing now. It can't bring back Liam, and I know it can't fix this chasm 'tween us over night, but... I still got somethin' in me. I still got tools. I can help ya. I can assist when ya need me... I can be better... I just need the chance."

"Mm..."

Natasha noted the pain in the older man's expression. His worn face had already been discernment enough of what the years had did to him. It was the face of a man who was lonely in every definition of the word. No one supported him now, no one assured him that better days were on the horizon. A divided family was all that remained in the aftermath.

No one willingly embraced the idea of bringing everything back together. It took a brave heart to move past the trauma. Natasha voiced her brutal train of thought, but she was wholly aware that she had no saintly pillar to stand on, either. Mistakes were made, losses were incurred, and there were memories of things that could never be regained. He was right.

None of his actions and apologies could change what happened. Nothing would ever be the same, but did that matter anymore? Natasha had resolved to move past those haunting memories. There were people to protect now. Individuals that needed her guidance. A division to coordinate and lead to the best of her ability. What good would come of continuing this cycle, though?

From an objective point of view, she had committed her fair share of errors. Again, she recognized that she didn't have the high ground here. In truth, he was being the bigger man by traveling to see her here. That took courage, all things considered.

Leaning against her chair, fingers clicking against the couch, Natasha would offer a defeated sigh, a warm smile curving across her lips. There was no need to make this some long-drawn out affair. Drama really wasn't her vibe, anyway. There were a thousand ways this could go down, but Natasha preferred taking the easy route. Resources were resources. Tools were tools. Papa was Papa. Rising from her chair, she'd walk over to present her hand before the man. If he meant what he said, then why turn him away? It was time to bury the hatchet.

"Well, alrighty then, pops. Guess I'll hold ya to your words. I ain't gonna cut into ya' anymore than life has, I reckon. Ma would probably want us to make amends, anyway. I can't fancy the thought of draggin' yer old butt with me to the battlefield, but I'll accept everything else. I can't have ya' livin' here with me, though. I'll probably have to get you a small home or apartment that's close to mine, but we can make it work. I'll hold ya to yer words."

It was as simple as that.