The Forgotten -Marvel 2-

Chapter 48

"Lydia," a voice whispered. "Lydia, wake up." The white-haired girl groaned. Her head was pounding, and her body ached. "Lydia, you have to get up. Get up for me."

Her brows furrowed at the sound of the voice. "Mama?" Instantly, her eyes opened. Lydia sat up, eyes frantically searching the room for Natasha. "Natasha?"

She didn't find Natasha. Only America, who was kneeling in front of her. "Hey," she greeted her. "It's just me."

Lydia looked around again, realizing they were inside a glass box. "No, no, no." She was in a cage, a box, a prison cell. It reminded her of Hydra. Of the Raft. Of the cell in Agatha's basement. "No. I can't." She couldn't be trapped again.

"Lydia?" America watched as she jumped to her feet and began pounding on the glass frantically. "I already tried that-"

"No, you don't understand." Lydia slammed her palms against the glass. "I can't." There were people outside at computers and desks. "Hey, let me out of here!" America approached her, realizing something was wrong. More than them being trapped inside a box in an unknown universe. "Hey!"

"Hey," America joined her. She began banging on the glass. "Let us out of here! Hello?" They were being ignored.

"Let me out!" Lydia hated being locked in places. It reminded her of some of the worst moments of her life.

"This universe sucks." She glanced at America but quickly realized she wasn't talking to her. Following her gaze, she realized Stephen was awake. They had put him in a separate glass box beside them.

"Stephen." Lydia ran to the other wall. She placed her palms on the glass. "You have to get me out of here. I can't-" her chest was moving more rapidly. It became harder to breathe. "I can't-"

"I know. I know." Stephen knew about her past. He knew about the prison cells and cages. "Take a deep breath for me, okay?" Lydia nodded, doing as he said. She tried to steady her breathing. Panicking was the last thing she needed to do right now. It wouldn't end well for anyone if she panicked. "Cloak." Stephen searched for his cloak, but it was gone. He tried to use his Sorcerer abilities, but they didn't work. On his wrists were green bands, which Lydia assumed prevented him from doing anything.

"Shit, Lydia." The girl glanced down at her wrists. For the first time, she noticed the same bands on her arms. It was easy to conclude that it would prevent her from using her abilities. America had them as well.

She shook her arms, heart racing. It brought back memories of the Raft. The collar they put around her neck. The helplessness she felt.

They were trapped, officially, and Lydia was spiraling.

"Hey." Stephen tapped on the glass with his knuckles. "Hey, lab coat." There was a girl with red hair, back facing them as she worked at a computer. "Where are we?" She ignored him. "Look, I have no idea who you are or what you're doing, but these issues don't typically end well for nameless scientists. So-" he stopped immediately when the women turned around. "Christine?"

Lydia's head turned in her direction quickly. The woman in front of them was Christine. The same women that Stephen had dated in at least two other universes. Judging by her expression, Christine knew Stephen as well. Not this version, but most likely the version that once lived in this universe. The one that was killed fighting Thanos.

"Hello, Stephen," she greeted him. America muttered something in Spanish.

"Christine," Lydia whispered, slightly in shock.

"Miss Chavez," Christine greeted the younger girl first. "Lydia." There was hesitation in her features. "To answer your question." She approached the box Stephen was in. "You're in a highly secure research facility. The three of you and your cloak are here for surveillance and testing."