Imagine That: Multifandom Part Two

the wrong prophecy | natasha romanoff

"What you said, your vision," she began in a hushed voice, "it made me realise how fragile life can be. And I've lied for a lot of mine, but I want to start being honest with myself."

I didn't know what to say as I felt frozen in place, still reeling from her kiss and her warm hands touching me.

"And that starts with you," she said honestly, breath tickling my lips. "I'm in love with you, Y/N. I have been for a long time."

My heart fluttered in my chest when I recognised the look in her eyes – it was the one I was certain she saw whenever I looked her way.

"Please say something," she whispered nervously.

I nodded gently. "Natasha, I'm in love with you, too. I–"

She cut me off with another kiss, and this time, I closed my eyes, melting under her touch and pulling her closer by the waist to return with just as much affection. The girl I'd been in love with for two years actually loved me back...

And that's how I should have known things were too good to be true.

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A week after our mission and a few days after Natasha and I made our revelations, Natasha was called back to the site of the mission by Fury, since the agents needed help cataloguing evidence and she'd been there firsthand.

Nobody thought much of it because what was the big deal? It wouldn't take more than a day and it was easy stuff. But then we all got an emergency call by F.R.I.D.A.Y. from Fury himself, telling us that the quinjet Natasha had taken was returning and it was an emergency. Of course I immediately panicked, why wouldn't I? There was never an emergency with Natasha, she was probably the best of us all.

We all went outside as it landed and I saw the back door was open and some agents were already there, all looking distraught and shocked. Bruce, Steve and Sam were already there, too, having come out before me, and as soon as they saw me, I knew what had happened. Nobody needed to say a thing because it was clear as day, and I think that was the exact moment when my heart shattered into a million pieces.

Running to the quinjet, I pushed past them and ignored their warnings as I went inside, only to see my worst nightmare come true.

She was lying there on a gurney 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, just like my vision had predicted. 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 knelt down, shaking my head, hands gently resting on her body, tears streaming down my cheeks now. "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 said, the words harsh as they escaped my throat, but I couldn't hear anything except a ringing in my ears.

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 helped."

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.

Words were thrown around in the background, barely puncturing my bubble, but I recalled mentions of a triggered bomb, her evacuating all the agents and attempting to disarm it herself but failing to do so. As they spoke, my blurry eyes moved around her, noticing the floor of the quinjet, not the rubble of an explosion. Such a small detail, but one that I should have noticed in my vision. Because if I'd noticed it, maybe I would have put two and two together and realised she wasn't going to die on the mission, but after it.

"No," I mumbled between sobs, covering my mouth.

I'd prevented the wrong death, and now I'd lost her forever. She was gone because I didn't pay close enough attention. It was my fault. She'd believed in me and I'd let her down.

"Y/N, c'mon," someone, I think Steve, said behind me, before arms wrapped around me, pulling up.

But Natasha's eyes were still staring up at me as if calling me a traitor. Blaming me for her death, and she was right. It was my fault. It was all my fault.

What good were powers if I couldn't save the one I loved?