Winter's Widow

Chapter 26: Darkness

a/n: hold on to your butts...this chapter is rather emotional and punched me in the feels while writing it.

I couldn't see anything. I could hear a lot. But I couldn't open my eyes, and it didn't seem like I could move, either. I heard snippets of conversations around me. Familiar voices that I would have known anywhere. And more than anyone else, always present somewhere on my right side was Natasha. When I felt myself being loaded onto a quinjet, I felt the Russian's hand squeezing mine the entire way. She alternated between talking to me and talking to other people whose voices I couldn't quite make out. Her hands were always cold, and they felt good as she alternated either holding my hand or touching my forehead soothingly. I tried to tell her so, but I couldn't speak either.

I woke up next when they moved me again. This time it wasn't bumpy, it seemed to be a much smoother transition, like I was being rolled on concrete. I tried to crinkle my nose at the smell – we had to be at the compound in medbay. It smelled like a hospital in here. Did that mean that there was something wrong? What was happening?

Someone checked on me regularly. I could always tell it was the same person – they muttered to themselves a lot when they were examining things. I think it made them feel better. Their hands were always warm. But when they checked on me, everything went black. And that was all I remembered, until now.

I woke up, and for the first time in who knows how long, my eyelids fluttered open. I looked at the ceiling momentarily, trying to bring everything back, but nothing came. I pushed myself to a seated position, which caught the attention of one of Dr. Cho's attendants. She easily removed the wires and the IV that were currently holding me onto the bed and told me where she thought I could find the others. I made my way towards the hanger, uncertain of what I would find. There was a circular platform in the room that hadn't been there before. I frowned, looking at the control panel wondering what kind of contraption this was, but before I could make much headway, it started whirring and making a strange sound. I backed up a few paces, watching with my mouth hanging open as people I recognized began to take their place around the circle, almost like they had come out of nowhere. What the hell was this thing? I watched, shocked, as one by one my friends reappeared, wearing some strange, unfamiliar, matching suit. Clint opened the visor of his mask, glancing at the empty space beside him. I turned to the side, eagerly – there was only one person missing, and it was the person that I wanted to see the most. But then Clint fell to his knees, and Bruce asked the question that was burning through every fiber of my being. Where was Natasha?

The answer was unacceptable. I backed out of the room, despite Bruce's best efforts to keep me there and evaluate my health. I had apparently been injured on a mission by a knife to the gut. I hadn't looked at the scar yet but judging by the expression on all the faces around the hanger, it was going to be a doozy. Natasha was gone, and nothing else mattered. I made my way blankly to her room, opening the door and was immediately hit in the face by a wave of her favorite perfume. I choked back a sob as I entered, closing, and locking the door behind me. How long had I been asleep? How had I missed out on my chance to say goodbye? How could she have left me here? I glanced over at her desk, noticing her vest hanging over the back of her desk chair. She loved that vest, and I knew it made her feel close to Yelena. I snatched it off the chair, pulling it into my chest and inhaling deeply. I frowned when I felt something crinkle in the pockets. I pulled out the letter, my eyes immediately welling with tears when I saw Natasha's familiar, sloppy, left-handed writing on the envelope.

I'm not sure how long it took me to get through the letter the first time. I was mindful of the tears that kept falling and did my best not to let them land on the slightly crumpled paper beneath, so as not to smear the ink. If this was the last thing Natasha wrote, then I was going to keep it safe.

...

Once again, I appeared unable to open my eyes, but I felt warm hands catching me before I managed to fully hit the ground. I heard an angry, accent-riddled voice that was shouting orders, and softer, calmer voices that were speaking back. I felt warm fingertips cradling the back of my head and groaned as I was being shifted onto some sort of platform. Then it felt like I was flying or gliding.

"Kasey?" I heard Yelena's voice from somewhere above my head, and I tried to answer, but failed. "Where are you taking her?" She demanded gruffly. I heard the gentle African accent respond softly, but I wasn't able to hear what they were saying. I was being rolled gently to one side as fingers prodded my back. I groaned again as they found a tender area. "Is she awake?" All I wanted to do was to let them know that I was okay, but my eyes and my mouth wouldn't move, and – to be honest – I really couldn't feel a lot, which I'm assuming was a blessing.

I woke again a few hours later, still unable to move my eyes, but I felt cold. Everywhere. I shifted as much as was possible – it wasn't much – and felt a set of hands on my forehead. "Tasha?" I croaked. I wasn't sure it was even audible at this point, but I'm assuming something was because I heard voices from somewhere to the side, and footsteps retreating quickly. Moments later, I felt warm hands on my cheek.

"Kasey?" I took a deep breath. The voice was gruff, but soft, with an accent.

"Tasha?" I asked again. "Why are your hands warm?" I finally beat the internal battle with my eyelids, shoving my pale blue eyes open against burning, white light. A figure hovered above my bed, and from this angle it looked like she had a halo. I frowned. The hair was all wrong. Everything came back to me in a rush. "Yelena," I said softly, staring up into her finally-visible hazel eyes. The blond exhaled sharply as her cheeks puffed out and I watched her blink her eyes several times as if she was attempting not to cry. She was staring at me like I was going to break at any moment.

"There you are!" Shuri's voice echoed, and I realized quickly that I must be set up on the table in her lab. I moved my head as much as I was able, seeing the young princess approaching my location from the other side of the room.

"What happened?" I mumbled softly. Shuri scoffed as she checked my vitals busily.

"You saved your friend and took a bullet to the back," she explained matter-of-factly.

"I what now?" I asked, confused. Shuri helped me into a sitting position.

"You're okay now. We took care of the damage." I frowned, looking down as Yelena took my hand in hers, holding on for dear life.

"You okay?" I croaked up at the blond, who smirked at me and let out a small huff of frustration.

"You're asking me?" Her voice was gentle and softer than I'd ever heard it before. "Why did you do that?" She grumbled. I grinned up at her, squeezing her fingers reassuringly.

"To save your ass?" I smirked. She grinned at me.

"у тебя проблемы, детка. (you're in trouble, baby.)" I frowned, looking up at her confused.

"Did I hit my head too, or was that Russian again?" Yelena's smirk made my heart do flip flops in my chest that I wasn't certain were healthy, given the circumstances.

"You just get better, now. But you're in so much trouble later." I smirked up at the blond as Shuri adjusted the pillows beneath my head. Yelena pulled the blanket up tight under my chin, tucking it in on the sides and made sure I was secure before she retreated a few paces to let Shuri get to work.

"Thanks, baby." I mumbled sleepily. I caught Shuri raising her eyebrows and a somewhat shocked yet bemused expression on Yelena's face.

"She needs more rest for now. I'll let you know the next time she wakes up." I glanced tiredly at Yelena as she leaned forward, lightly pressing a kiss to my forehead. Her orders to the princess were the last thing I remember before fading back into darkness.

"You'd better."

A/N: so sorry for the emotional trauma!  Did we all survive?