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"Come on, don't be scared

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"Come on, don't be scared. One, two, three... go!"

Hazel raised her leg and kicked the punching bag three times in a row before switching leg, then passed on to her fists, almost screaming in excitement as her knuckles came in contact with the punching bag.

"See? It wasn't that bad," Natasha exclaimed once Hazel was over, handing her a towel.

"I'm already out of breath and my muscles are already sore after only ten minutes, how is it not bad?" Hazel snorted, wiping the sweat away from her forehead.

"Haz, is not like you've been training for years. It's been almost a week, what did you expect?"

Hazel widened her eyes at the nickname Natasha had just given her, but she surprisingly liked it.

"It's just... I'm not really fond of violence," she stated, looking down at the dirty cloth wrapped around her knuckles.

"Who is? I mean, apart from some crazy psychopaths with a God complex, no one likes to be violent. Moreover, you heal people, so it would be contradictory," Natasha laughed, but Hazel couldn't trail along. If it was as easy as Natasha had said, Hazel would have felt more than happy to learn how to fight. It just wasn't like this.

"You hide more than you want to show us, don't you?" she asked, and Hazel immediately snapped her head towards her.

"No, I- I mean, I'm not born yesterday, unfortunately. I've had my experiences and... they're not the best." She smiled at herself, feeling pathetic. It almost sounded as if it wasn't something that bad.

"Look, Haz. I'm not expecting you to spill it all out with me, you're talking to the one who has more secrets in this building. But I know for a fact that people tend to blame themselves badly for something that is not their faults, and-"

"Sorry, Nat, but I really don't want to talk about it. I'll see you tomorrow."

Hazel abruptly stopped Natasha as she stood up, grabbed the water bottle from a table and walked out of the gym, slamming the door shut. Natasha stood where she was, her eyes wide as she thought about what she had said.

Was it really bad? Did something so awful happen to Hazel that she couldn't even feel like listening to someone who was trying to support her? She was 24, it was impossible for her to have experienced even worse things than Natasha. But again, they were two completely different people. And what seemed to Natasha like nothing to bother about, could have been ten times worse for Hazel.


"I dreamt about him, again."

"What did you see?"

Wanda pushed her legs closer to her chest, inhaling deeply before talking.

"He was really young this time, probably around three or four years. He was playing with his favorite toy, a stuffed bear called Bob that was completely ruined, but that he loved helplessly. Every time a part of Bob fell off, I would always sew it together or make our mum do it for me. But this time I couldn't move. He kept crying while holding Bob's fallen rib and I could do nothing about it. I was completely paralyzed and my voice didn't even reach him. He kept crying until he stood up and walked away, leaving Bob there."

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