Imagine That: Multifandom Part Two

the wrong prophecy | natasha romanoff

And I was too selfish to let her do so. I was too selfish to lose her.

Unable to think of an alternative, I grabbed my gun from my holster and aimed it at my shoulder, squeezing the trigger without a second thought. A scream of pain escaped my lips as I dropped the gun and clutched the bloody wound, feeling like a million needles were being plunged into my skin.

"What the fuck are you doing, Y/N?!" Natasha shouted as she rushed over to me in an instant.

She held me upright as her hand pressed on top of mine on my shoulder, green eyes searching mine for a logical explanation. But I didn't have one, and I stared back at her with watery eyes and pleaded once more.

"Please, don't go," I whispered tiredly.

Finally seeming to understand the importance of my words, she pressed her lips together firmly and nodded in agreement, making me more relieved than I could ever be. Sighing, I rested my head against her shoulder as she held me, and heard her speak into her earpiece.

"Y/N's been injured, I'm gonna take her back to the quinjet," she said sternly. "Stark, you got the bomb?"

"Already on it," he answered quickly, and it was music to my ears.

No more words were exchanged between Natasha and I as she led me back to the quinjet to get patched up. It was when she was bandaging my shoulder temporarily until we reached home when she demanded an explanation.

"What the hell was that back there?" she asked, standing before me with crossed arms once I was patched up and ready to go. "You fucking shot yourself! What were you thinking?!"

But I didn't have any words left in me right now. All I could seem to do was stare blankly at her shoes, eyes dried up from crying and every part of me aching with exhaustion. She wasn't going to die today. I'd stopped it from happening. I wasn't going to lose her.

"Y/N?"

When I wouldn't answer her like she wanted me to, she gave up and headed to the front of the jet to prepare to set off once the others returned. Tony had successfully disarmed the bomb which made me feel so much better with my decision to keep Natasha out of it, and all of the hostages had been freed. I stuck to my own corner of the jet on the flight home, and though the others were quiet, I knew they were talking about me. Natasha, no doubt, had told them what I'd done, how hysterical I'd acted.

But I didn't care because she was safe and sound, and that was all I had wanted.

When we got back to the Avengers Compound, I was rushed to the infirmary to get the bullet removed from my shoulder. It was a quick procedure, albeit painful, and I soon found myself sitting on the edge of my hospital bed, bandaged up, with Natasha stood before me angrily.

"Now that you're all patched up, care to tell me what the hell that was back there?" she demanded with crossed arms and a clenched jaw. "What on earth made you go rogue like that?! It was such a dumb move, Y/N! You could've hurt yourself a lot worse than you had– hell, you could have killed yourself! I taught you better than that!"

I risked glancing up, regretting it as soon as I saw piercing green eyes glaring daggers my way. And I knew I had to tell her the truth.

"Do you remember that time, back when I was still new to the team, when I burst into your room one afternoon?" I began, maintaining eye contact. "After you'd had a shower? And then you hit me with a tissue box?"

At the memory, she scoffed and rolled her eyes. "I'd forgotten about that, but thank you for reminding me."

I shook my head, frowning. "I'd had a nightmare. Well, I thought it was a nightmare at the time. Not a vision."