The rise of the White Widow

Nightmare

Alex's pov

As soon as I arrive home, I quickly take care of my chores like washing the dishes and tidying up the living room. Once done, I head straight to the sanctuary of my bedroom. Plopping down on my bed, I eagerly pull out my sketchbook from under the mattress to get in some drawing time. I'm completely absorbed in creating an intricate picture that time manages to slip away from me. Before I know it, the front door opens and my parents are back from work.

Panicking a little, I quickly stash my sketchbook under the mattress and dash downstairs to greet them.

"Dinner's already in the oven, just needs a few more minutes," I announce casually while descending the stairs.

"Great, your brother will be home any minute now, so we can all have dinner together," my mom responds with a warm smile.

I nod in agreement and swiftly retreat back upstairs to continue drawing. Just as I re-open my sketchbook and resume working on the details of a dragon, I hear my brother coming in through the front door. Ten minutes later, he's knocking on my bedroom door before waltzing right in without waiting for a reply.

Startled, I hastily close my sketchbook and attempt to hide it behind me.

"What are you hiding?" he teases while playfully ruffling my hair.

"Nothing!" I laugh nervously while gently punching him in the stomach as he tries to snatch the sketchbook from me.

"Alright, alright!" he chuckles. "Come on, booger. It's time for dinner."

I stick out my tongue at him, still hiding my sketchbook behind me. He laughs heartily and heads towards the kitchen with me trailing behind.

As we sit down at the table together, he asks me about school: "Как прошел твой первый день в школе?" (How was your first day at school? In Russian)

"Было нормально," I reply nonchalantly, trying to play it off as uneventful. (It was ok)

Together, we all sit down and start enjoying our dinner as a family, chatting about our respective days. Meanwhile, thoughts about my secret sketchbook swirl around in my head. Will I ever have the courage to share my passion with them?

Peters pov

"Hey Mr. Stark!" I shout, tossing my backpack onto the couch with a thud.

"Hey, kid. How was school today?" Mr. Stark asks, looking up from his workbench.

"It was alright, I guess. There's this new girl, though," I say, trying to sound casual about it.

Suddenly, all the Avengers attention is focused on me, their expressions a mix of curiosity and amusement.

"What's her name?" Ms. Romanoff inquires, raising an eyebrow.

"Do you have a crush on her?" Mr. Stark teases, grinning at me.

"What's she like?" Mr. Rogers asks earnestly, always the gentleman.

"Her name is Aleksandra, but she prefers to be called Alex," I start to explain. "I only just met her today, Mr. Stark, so don't get any ideas. She's really cool though, she actually stood up to the school bully without even breaking a sweat."

"Well, you have to introduce us to her sometime," Ms. Romanoff insists with a sly smile.

"I don't think she has any interest in being my friend," I admit with a frown. "I asked her if she wanted to sit with me at lunch and she said she was good on her own."

At that, Ms. Romanoff smirks knowingly.

"What?" I ask defensively.

"Nothing," she replies with a mysterious glint in her eye as everyone else stifles their laughter and returns to their activities.

Alex's pov

After a long and tiring day, I decide that going to bed early tonight would be a wise choice. For the past few weeks, I've been struggling to get a good night's sleep. It seems like every time I close my eyes, I'm haunted by nightmares and occasionally even night terrors. These vivid, unsettling dreams leave me drenched in sweat and feeling more exhausted than when I first laid down.

Hoping that an earlier bedtime might help, I change into my soft, comfortable pyjamas and switch off the lights before settling into bed. My room is dark and quiet, providing what I hope will be the perfect environment for a peaceful slumber. As I fluff my pillow and pull the warm, cozy blanket over myself, I take slow, deep breaths in an effort to clear my mind and relax.

Almost as soon as I close my eyes, sleep takes hold of me, an unusual occurrence but one that offers a glimmer of hope that tonight will be different. Maybe this time, the nightmares will stay away and allow me to wake up feeling refreshed and reenergized for the new day ahead.

In the pitch-black darkness of the night, I suddenly awaken, screaming at the top of my lungs and soaked in a cold sweat. My chest heaves as I struggle to catch my breath, my heartbeat pounding like a wild drum against my ribcage. I clasp my clammy hands together, trying to regain control over my racing thoughts.

Without warning, my bedroom door flies open with a bang, and my older brother dashes into the room. His concerned face is visible in the dim glow from the streetlights outside the window.

"Hey, it's okay, Dove," he reassures me gently in a low voice, using the childhood nickname he knows soothes me in times like this. "Would you like me to give you a hug or hold your hand?" he asks cautiously, aware that physical touch isn't always comforting when I'm feeling overwhelmed.

I shake my head slowly from side to side, indicating that it isn't what I need right now. He nods understandingly and calmly offers an alternative.

"All right," he responds softly. "Let's try some deep breathing exercises together. You'll feel better."

With that, he takes a slow, deliberate breath in through his nose and exhales it in an equal measure through his mouth.

Following the soothing rhythm of his breathing, I attempt to mirror his steady inhales and exhales. As we sit there in the darkened room together, our synchronized breathing begins to calm my racing heart and still my anxious thoughts. Little by little, I find myself returning to a state of equilibrium as the nightmare's grip loosens its hold on me, all thanks to my brother's reassuring presence.

"Red room?" my brother questions, his eyebrows raised in concern.

I nod in response. The red room is the place where my nightmares always seem to lead me, a terrifying space I can't escape from. The thought of it gives me chills even now, in the safety of my bedroom.

A look of understanding spreads across his face as he sympathizes with my fears.

"Do you want me to sleep in here tonight?" he offers, noticing how much the nightmare has affected me.

"Please," I say quietly, grateful for his support.

His warm smile reassures me as he rummages under my bed to find the spare mattress and blankets that are stored there. Carefully, he lays them out on the floor beside my bed, making himself comfortable for the night.

"Thank you, Hayden," I tell him with heartfelt gratitude, feeling more at ease knowing he's close by.