Chapter Text
With the sound of raindrops battering on the window greeting her, Damsel stepped over the threshold of her apartment. The rain having soaked through her coat and turned the once well put together outfit she chose into a wet, heavy mess of fabrics clinging to both themselves and her.
When her neighbor asked her to help looking for her cat, she happily agreed. Both out of a feeling of obligation to help those in need and because she wanted to meet the cute furry friend that lived next door. Its a win-win for her!
After more than an hour of searching in the rain and howling wind, her neighbor called Damsel back inside with a sheepish look, confessing that she found her cat asleep in the laundry hamper. Damsel nearly woke the poor thing up with her squeal of excitement as she saw it comfortably nestled up in an old jumper.
With Damsel still vibrating with energy from the ordeal, she made her way back to her apartment and now here she stands, cold and soaked to the bone but still smiling.
A sound like ripping twine perks up her ears and she makes her way to the bedroom, leaving a trail of droplets along the floor.
Inside she sees Fury, the woman’s large frame sitting on the edge of the bed with her back facing the door. Her tail swishing to and fro with what Damsel recognizes as frustration. One claw holding her hair in a vice grip as the other tries to no avail to work out a stubborn tangle.
Eventually she gives up and just rips through it with her claw, the growing amount of loose hairs on the bed evidence that she has been going at if for a while.
“A-hmm.” Damsel coughs, surprised to see Fury, who usually doesn’t bother with grooming, like this.
With a loud crack, Fury’s head spins almost 180 degrees and stares in shock at Damsel, her deep set eyes growing wide and a trail of blood leaking from the railroad spike embedded in her forehead. The silence stretches for a long moment as both stand frozen staring at the other.
“What happened to you? Did you go outside? In this weather?” Fury asks, a mix of bewilderment, annoyance and care in her voice.
“The neighbors cat was missing so I helped looking for it.” Damsel beams back. If it weren’t for her shining demeanor, she’d look closer to a wet cat than her usual self.
“You’ve been gone for more than an hour! You’re drenched, aren’t you cold?”
A shiver runs through Damsel as Fury says these words and she shrinks in on herself, wrapping her arms around her for warmth that isn’t there.
“Go take a shower, warm yourself up.”
It’s more an order than a request but Damsel promptly follow it as it would probably make Fury happy if she listened to her.
As Damsel enters the shower, the sound of running water fills the apartment. Fury’s neck pops itself back into place and she slumps forward, blood dripping over her lips and falling to the bed in a steady rhythm. Her claws clamp the sheets so tightly she’s sure that there must be a tear in them by now.
Elbows resting on her knees, Fury digs her claws into the side of her head.
“I can’t even take care of my own hair. I’m truly just some defaced, rotten thing. Why does she even put up with me?” She mumbles to herself.
It isn’t long before Damsel returns, hairbrush and towel in hand and wearing a comfy bunny patterned set of pajamas as she interrupts Fury’s spiraling thoughts.
“I’ll help you with your hair, you don’t need to be so rough or it will get worse.”
Fury’s hands shoot back to the bed.
“It’s fine, don’t worry yourself about me and go do something you actually want to.” Fury says, not bothering to turn around.
“But.. I want to help you, will you sit with me on the couch?”
Fury already feels Damsel’s puppy eyes digging a hole in the back of her head and walks to the couch without further protest or risking a look into said eyes, fearing that she might cave entirely if she does. With a thud she sits on the couch and before she can react a damp towel is touching her chin as Damsel starts cleaning up the blood from her face.
Fury closes her eyes and leans in slightly as they sit in silence. The towel feels unexpectedly comforting. She allows Damsel to continue this small ritual they have both become familiar with.
Sometime later, with the rain and wind howling outside and not a word spoken in the apartment, Damsel moves on to Fury’s hair. Her fingers working between the tangles and while some of them need to be pulled apart, most of them easily come apart under Damsel’s deft brushwork.
“I should be able to do this myself you know. Why are you even bothering with helping me?” Fury says defeated.
“You looked like you were having trouble so I thought you could use some help. Is that so wrong?”
“YES!” Fury’s voice reverberates through the apartment.
“Yes,” she continues. “I should be able to do this myself! I used to be able to do everything and now I’m reduced to this.. thing that can’t even take care of itself!”
“It’s okay if you can’t do everything yourself, that’s why I’m here to help you!” Damsel says with her characteristic gentleness in her voice.
“But I-”
“Do you want a braid? I think it would look cute on you.” Damsel unintentionally interrupts, her attention completely focused on Fury’s hair.
Fury’s mouth abruptly closes with the audible clack of her teeth as she shrinks in on herself, suddenly very focused the coasters on the coffee table in front of her. If she could blush she would have done it by now, a small trickle of blood leaks from her head spike instead.
“A braid is fine.” She answers curtly.
As Damsel works, Fury can’t help but relax, the tension in her shoulders melting away as she moves to sit on the floor to give Damsel better access to her hair. Eyes closing when Damsel’s fingers move over her scalp to separate it into strands as she works on the simple braid.
The rain against the windows, the beating of Fury’s heart and the rustle of Fury’s hair between Damsel’s fingers all coalesce into a steady rhythm, allowing them both some reprieve from this stressful evening.
“Did you even find the cat?” Fury asks, her words slurring slightly as if half asleep.
“Oh no, it was sleeping in the laundry hamper and she just missed it and thought the poor thing was lost outside.” Damsel cheerily replies
In a single motion, the tension snaps back into Fury’s shoulders and she twists her torso to look at Damsel, her her spine straining under the motion as her legs are unmoving. Anger flaring up in her eyes.
“You just spend more than an hour in the rain because someone was too incompetent to properly look for her cat! And you’re not even mad!?”
“It was so cute though! Sleeping in those towels and blankets.”
“Tha-”
The doorbell rings and both snap their heads to the door. Without delay, Fury’s is already moving towards the bedroom to get out of sight. Damsel sees her ducking reflexively as she encounters the top of the doorpost, a visible dent showing that she wasn’t always this lucky.
As Damsel slowly opens the door, an old lady roughly a head shorter than her stands there with a cake tray in her hands.
“Hello dear, I hope I’m not interrupting at this hour but I wanted to thank you for your help this evening. She says sweetly as she hands over the cake tray.
“Please, accept this as a thank you, I can’t help but feel bad about having you outside in this awful weather.”
“Oh, thank you! But you really shouldn’t have gone through all the effort.” Damsel replies as the smell of cinnamon, clove and nutmeg hit her nose.
“Nonsense dear, you deserve a reward for your hard work. Now, do you know what that awful racket was just now?”
Damsel looks over her shoulder as she accepts the cake, briefly making eye contact with Fury whose head is peaking out from the bedroom door, causing her to quickly dart back inside to avoid detection.
“No idea, maybe the downstairs neighbor is playing drums again?” Damsel puts on her most convincing smile.
“That’ll be it, I’ll ask them to keep it down next time. Have a good evening dear!”
Before Damsel can respond, her neighbor has already turned around and left. Leaving her standing in the doorway, the cake still in her hands.
“Hmm, so she at least had the common decency to reward you for your efforts.” Fury whispers.
Her steps, a lot quieter now, appear behind Damsel as she slowly closes the door.
Fury leans down and breathes in deeply.
“It smells… nice. Shall we try some? I’ll make tea to go with it.” Fury thinks out loud as she is already on her way to the kitchen.
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And so the two find themselves on the couch with a cup of hot tea, a thick slice of cake and an old movie on the TV that Fury insisted on watching.
Damsel is nestled close to Fury's chest, soaking up all the heat she radiates. The cold, wet rain and howling wind only a distant memory compared to the comforting warmth of the person next to her.