The Forgotten -Marvel 2-

Chapter 42

It was getting warmer. The cold weather was starting to fade into something better. Lydia had never been a fan of the cold. She always preferred warm weather. Maybe that's why her favorite season was Spring. Or maybe the warmth helped her forget about her cold prison cell in Hydra. A place she hadn't thought of as much recently, but it still haunted her.

Her dreams, which once plagued her mind and haunted her, were now vast amounts of nothingness. Lydia missed them, as weird as it sounded. She preferred her nightmares to the empty loneliness that swallowed her whole each night.

But there was nothing to be done about her missing dreams. Wong had said she was lucky. Mostly because he sometimes dreamed of being chased by clowns with hot dogs, which was equally concerning as it was amusing. Lydia was thankful her dreams were never like that.

"It's just odd," she rambled, walking into the kitchen. "No dreams. Nothing. It was just like that." Lydia snapped her fingers. "Nothing."

Stephen hummed, the only acknowledgment that he was there. He wasn't listening, not really. That didn't bother her as much anymore. There was always a lot going on inside his mind. Wong was more relaxed and easier to talk to. "You're still going on about this?" Wong followed her into the kitchen, planning to get another bowl of cereal.

"Yes," she huffed, sending him a pointed look. "I miss my dreams. I miss seeing-" the words stilled in her throat. Truthfully, as horrible as her dreams were, at least she still had Wanda in them. Natasha had faded from them long ago, but Wanda was always there. It didn't matter that the dreams were more like nightmares. At least she had Wanda. Could feel her warm skin. Hear her beautiful voice. See her face.

That was all gone now.

"Okay," Wong said as he placed the Lucky Charm box down. "What were they like before you lost them?"

"Bad."

Wong raised an eyebrow. "Bad?" She nodded in confirmation. "I'm sorry, you want these dreams back?"

Lydia rolled her eyes, dropping into the empty chair. "As bad as they were, it's better than nothing." Stephen hummed again, still not paying much attention. "The few weeks before my dreams ended, they were chaotic. They didn't make sense. Nothing made sense. But there was always one thing in common." She held up a finger. "I died." And Wanda was always there. Sometimes with others, sometimes just her.

Wong gaped at her. "Why do you want these dreams back?"

Lydia grabbed the stack of mail in front of her and began slapping him with it. "Do you listen?" She punctuated each word with a slap to his shoulder.

He tried to fight her off, but it was useless. Although, he was laughing. "I am listening, you stubborn child." Lydia set the mail back down, a faint smile on her face. "But I can't help you."

"Maybe you need therapy," Stephen suggested.

Lydia turned to him. "You're listening?"

"Partially, I usually tune you out. You talk a lot. Did you know that?" There was a smirk on his face. Stephen was joking, something he occasionally did, but it was always hard to tell when.

"You guys are wonderful company, really," she stated sarcastically. "I just love coming over here to be used in your weird science projects and made fun of."

Wong ruffled her hair, ignoring her grunt of protest. "They're not science projects. It's research to better understand you and possible variations of you."

That was what they always said. "And yet you've found no others." Lydia assumed they were dead. "And whatever you've found, you have not shared, which is either good or concerning." Lydia knew it was concerning from their expressions at the very beginning.