The rise of the White Widow

New type of pain

I wake up every morning and for a split second, I forget that my brother is gone. Then it hits me like a ton of bricks, and I can feel the weight of my grief crushing me all over again. Hayden was my only sibling, and now he's dead.

I can't stop thinking about the last time I saw him. We had a huge fight, and I said some awful things to him. I called him a liar and told him I hated him. I didn't mean any of it, but I was so angry and hurt that he had kept the truth about our parents from me. And now, I can never take those words back.

I'm angry at myself for not being able to control my emotions. I'm angry at Hayden for leaving me like this. And I'm angry at the universe for taking away the one person who understood me better than anyone else.

I spend most of my days in bed, staring at the ceiling. I don't have the energy to do anything else. But then, there's a knock on my door. It's Nat.

Nat sits down on the edge of my bed and puts a hand on my shoulder. "Hey," she says softly. "How are you holding up?"

I shake my head, not trusting myself to speak. Nat doesn't push it. Instead, she just sits there with me, silent but present. It's comforting in a way that I can't explain.

——————

Over the next few days, Nat keeps checking in on me. She brings me food, listens to me when I need to vent, and even helps me clean up my room a little bit. It's small gestures, but they mean everything to me.

One day, Nat suggests we go for a walk. I'm hesitant at first, but she insists. We end up at a park, and Nat sits down on a bench while I wander around aimlessly.

As I walk, I remember all the times Hayden and I used to come to this park together. We would play hide-and-seek, climb trees, and make up silly stories. It hurts to think about those memories now, but at the same time, it's nice to have something to hold onto.

When I come back to the bench, Nat hands me a piece of paper. "I know it's not much," she says, "but I wrote down some of the things you said about Hayden. I thought maybe you could use it as a starting point for a eulogy or something.

I take the paper from her, and my eyes fill with tears as I read Nat's words. She somehow managed to capture the essence of Hayden's spirit in just a few sentences. It's beautiful, and I know I could never have come up with something like this on my own.

"Thank you," I whisper, as I fold the paper and tuck it into my pocket.

Nat smiles at me. "Anytime, Alex. We're all here for you."

——————

As the sun starts to set, Nat and I begin our walk back to the Avengers tower. It's a beautiful evening, with a warm breeze blowing through the trees and the sound of birds chirping in the distance. But even though I'm surrounded by all this natural beauty, I can't help but feel empty inside.

The walk takes a lot out of me, and I'm still recovering from the injuries I sustained when my parents attacked me. My whole body aches, and my head is pounding. By the time we reach the tower, I'm barely able to keep my eyes open.

"Come on," Nat says gently, leading me towards the elevator. "Let's get you back to your room."

I nod, grateful for her support. The elevator ride feels like it takes forever, and I lean heavily against the wall, trying not to pass out. When we reach my floor, Nat helps me walk down the hallway and into my bedroom.

As soon as I'm inside, I collapse onto my bed, exhausted. Nat sits down next to me and places a hand on my forehead. "You're burning up," she says, feeling my temperature. "Do you need me to call Bruce?"

I shake my head. "No, I'll be okay. I just need to rest."

Nat nods understandingly. "Alright. I'll go grab you some water and painkillers. You just focus on getting some sleep, okay?"

I close my eyes and nod, feeling a wave of gratitude wash over me. Nat is the only one who seems to understand what I'm going through. She doesn't try to fix things or make me talk about my feelings. She just offers her presence and support, and that's enough.

After a few moments, I hear the door creak open and then shut again. I'm alone in my room, with nothing but my thoughts to keep me company. But somehow, I feel a little less alone than I did before.

A few minutes later, Nat returns with a glass of water and a bottle of painkillers. "Here," she says, handing me the glass. "Take these. They'll help with the pain and the fever."

I swallow the pills and drink the water, feeling relieved as the cool liquid soothes my parched throat. Nat sits down next to me again, and we lapse into a comfortable silence.

After a while, Nat speaks up. "Do you want to talk about Hayden?"

I take a deep breath, unsure of how to answer. Part of me wants to spill my heart out to her, to tell her everything I'm feeling. But another part of me is afraid of opening up, of letting my guard down.

Nat seems to sense my hesitation, because she doesn't press the issue. "It's okay if you're not ready," she says. "Just know that I'm here whenever you are."

I nod, feeling grateful for her understanding. "Thank you, Nat. I don't know what I'd do without you."

She smiles warmly. "You don't have to do anything alone, Alex. We're all here for you. The whole team."

I close my eyes, feeling a sense of comfort wash over me. For the first time in days, I'm able to relax a little bit, to let go of some of the weight of my grief and guilt. I know I still have a long road ahead of me, but with Nat and the Avengers by my side, I think I might be able to make it through after all.

——————— ⚠️Self h@rm⚠️

Days turn into weeks, and my grief doesn't seem to be getting any better. If anything, it's getting worse. I can't seem to shake the feeling of guilt that's been haunting me since Hayden's death. And to make matters worse, I'm starting to feel like a burden on the Avengers.

I spend most of my time in my room, staring at the walls. I don't have the energy to do anything else. But then, something changes. A voice in my head starts whispering that I deserve to feel this pain, that I'm a terrible person for what I said to Hayden, that I should punish myself for my mistakes.

At first, I try to ignore the voice. But it grows louder and more insistent with each passing day. Until one day, I can't take it anymore. I grab a pair of scissors from my dresser and press them against my skin.

The pain is excruciating, but it somehow feels like a release. I cut deeper and deeper, watching as the blood pools on my skin. And for a brief moment, I feel like I'm in control.

But then, the reality of what I've done hits me. I'm horrified at myself for hurting my own body. And then the guilt comes back, stronger than ever. I'm not just a burden on the Avengers anymore. I'm a monster.

I know it's not healthy, but I can't help it. The pain makes me feel alive, makes me feel like I'm being punished for what I did to Hayden.

No one knows what I'm going through. I can't bring myself to tell anyone about the guilt that consumes me, about the pain that I'm causing myself. I'm afraid of being judged, of being told that I'm crazy. So I hide my scars and my pain, pretending that everything is okay.