Heroine ϟ Marvel [3]

10.10

CHAPTER TEN

Back to the Future

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PLACE: UNKNOWN
UNIVERSE: UNKNOWN
TIME: UNKNOWN

There was a coldness surrounding her. Water. Lulled her back and forth rhythmically. The left side of her face was against the floor. Her clothes were soaked just like her hair as it clung to her neck with a mix of blood and seawater. Her limbs were numb. The front of her body sank into the soft ground. Dragging her down. Engulfing half of her figure. It was freezing. Calm. Quiet. Ana's left arm was pinned underneath her torso while the right arm was bent above her head, fingers twitching around a small pouch. Her nails scraped against the black leather, knuckles white and fist like stone. Coarse sand and broken seashells rubbed against her cheek as the waves on the beach pushed her further into shore. The salt in the water stung her weeping wounds. It was partially the reason why she came to. The other, she couldn't even breathe.

Ana coughed when the tide reached her face. Eyes snapped open. Cosmic blue rings in her irises fading quickly. She inhaled the foul-tasting water, and gasped when her nostrils stung, eyes watering when she went into a coughing fit to expel the liquid from her lungs. She tried to hold herself up. Left arm gave her a series of sharp pains. Shoulders were stiff. Neck was tight. Body undeniably sore. She was a shivering mess. Barely able to move her arms and legs because of the cold. She pushed herself up, and crawled froward, away from the ocean. Hands were palm deep in the sand. She still held onto the pouch. As she moved and stretched, the tears in her black reconnaissance suit allowed the cool air to soothe her burning wounds. Half of the material on her back was gone. Shredded to bits. She was missing one armguard and the area above her right knee was scorched. Ana was afraid the material was burnt into her skin. Her nose scrunched up in disgust when she realised she'd have to spend a couple hours picking the fabric off with tweezers and vodka.

Ana swirled her tongue around in her mouth. She spat out blood and saliva with a grimace. She used the hand that wasn't holding the pouch to caress her jaw. She hissed when the soft pressure invited more pain. It was definitely bruised. And just like that, the moments that transpired right up until she found herself unconscious on a beach in the middle of the night hit her. Fully enlightened, Ana's mouth dropped open in shock. Eyes rounded out of fear. She glanced over her shoulder. Searched her surroundings for the ones she was running from. They had to be close. If not, they knew exactly where and how to find her. She was a sitting duck. On her own. Stranded. Unfamiliar with her location. Unable to go to anyone or anywhere for help. She looked at the pouch in her possession — a green glow hidden within. She got what she came for. Now, it was time to go.

Ana got to her feet, and ran.

"Ana, wake up."

Ana jolted awake, eyes frenzied. She darted up in her bed to come face to face with the man who had entered her room. The hallway lights were on, carrying the light inside her dark bedroom at the Avengers Compound. She blinked at the brightness while her chest tried to control the rate of her rapid breathing. Sweat lined her forehead as she reached up to brush the long, dark brown hair strands from her face. Her hands were quivering. She had just experienced a troubled dream. It left her disoriented. Forgetful. Shaken. Ana removed the sheets from her body, revealing her black tank top and matching shorts, and sat up, swinging her legs so her feet touched the timber floor. She groaned at the pounding in her head, and lifted a hand to cradle it.

"I'm sorry. I know it's late." Steve apologised, glancing over at the digital clock on her bedside table. The blue numbers read half past two.

"It's fine, Steve. I'm grateful." Ana mumbled out, tilting her head to look up at him as he stepped closer to her bed.