Imagine That: Multifandom Part Two

the wrong prophecy | natasha romanoff

"Go help Steve, I'll meet you there," she ordered, green eyes dark as they stared through me, before she raced out of there.

Doing as I was told, I went to find Steve on another floor than Natasha and I were, and helped him out as much as I could. That part of the dream was fuzzy, like it was happening to somebody else and not me personally throwing punches and kicks like my life depended on it. Then, the explosion sounded and my heart dropped.

Steve's blue eyes were wide with panic before he led the way, running to where the sound came from and where Natasha had been told to go. I was following after him, my heart beating in my ears and my legs feeling like jelly from trying to keep up with Steve. Natasha was supposed to be the best of the best, so I could only hope she'd managed to escape the bomb.

The dream went fuzzy again, blurs of scenes overlapping as I tried to get to Natasha, and then suddenly, I was kneeling over her, tears welling in my eyes and a lump trapped in my throat.

She was laying on the floor, arms and legs neatly beside her and her head tilted to the side. The horrifying sight of fleshy burns covering half her body looked back up at me, and parts of her suit were burnt through. But the worst part of it all were her eyes, still open and looking ahead, but cloudy and lifeless and unmoving, just like her.

I shook my head, hands gently resting on her body, tears streaming down my cheeks. "No, no, no... Natasha, please, no..."

Pushing her red hair from her face, I leaned forward, tears blurring my vision, unfazed by her burns and pleading to whatever God was out there to fix this, to have her wake up and be okay. Be alive.

"Natasha!" I must have said, the words harsh as they escaped my throat, but I couldn't hear anything except a ringing.

She wasn't supposed to die. She was the strongest of us all. The best of the best. She wasn't supposed to go like this.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," I cried, unable to let go of her suit. My fingers were turning white from the grip. "I should've come with you. I should've seen this."

My heart was crumbling the longer I stayed there, watching her, anticipating her movement. It was like someone was stabbing me over and over, forcing me to relive the same sting forever, because I'd lost Natasha and she was really gone and I could have stopped it, but I didn't. And now she was gone.

I woke up with a start, my heart thumping in my chest and my eyes stinging with tears. I'd had many dreams where I'd lost people or witnessed death. The most horrifying stuff had haunted me in my slumber, but none had been so visceral and disturbing and real.

Usually, it was easy for me to differentiate between a dream and a prophecy, but this one was too much to analyse right now. No, right now, as I sat up in bed and felt the dampness on my cheeks and the stinging in my chest, this felt like it was happening presently, and I needed to make sure Natasha was okay.

Obviously I knew I wasn't hovering over Natasha Romanoff's dead body, lifeless eyes staring up at me, but her half burnt face was engrained in my mind and I just needed confirmation that it wasn't real before I could get over it. I had to see her alive and well before anything more could be done.

Any rational thoughts of mine went out the window when I legged it out of my room, still groggy and uncoordinated from just waking up. My only priority was Natasha, and despite the fact that I'd only known her a few weeks and she was practically a stranger to me, I found her room and ordered F.R.I.D.A.Y. to unlock her door because of an emergency.

As soon as I shoved open the unlocked door, I paused, panting heavily and taking in the sight before me. Natasha was startled at my presence, wrapped in a towel and standing by her dresser. The inappropriateness of the situation was the last thing I was worried about as a gasp escaped my throat, relieved to see her alive and not dead.