Cursed Realities

14. Princess

Natasha woke up, the remnants of her nightmare still clinging to her consciousness. Her desperate pleas echoed in the dark room, and as she removed her hands from her tear-streaked face, she found herself face to face with Dr. Strange. His head was low, a silent acknowledgment of the devastating event Natasha had just witnessed.

Sobbing, she huddled on the floor, arms wrapped tightly around her knees. The strength that once defined the resilient Russian spy seemed to crumble in the face of the unbearable brutality she had witnessed. 

The horrors of the Red Room, the training, the pain – all of it felt inconsequential in comparison to the anguish of watching her lover die twice before her eyes, helpless to intervene.

A once formidable Avenger and formidable Agent of S.H.I.E.L.D., Natasha now felt like the 11-year-old girl torn away by the Red Room, vulnerable and scared. 

The brutality of the scene had shattered her resolve, reducing her to a state of fear that transcended her years of training and experience. Her gaze pleaded with Dr. Strange, seeking answers that seemed elusive in the face of such merciless cruelty.

"Why?" she cried out, her voice raw with anguish. "Why so merciless? Why so brutal?! What has he done to deserve this? What has the purest soul done to deserve that kind of... that wasn't even death. That was... more than any torture. Why?!"

Dr. Strange, faced with Natasha's anguish, had no answers to offer.

Dr. Strange's words resonated in the somber space, offering a glimmer of hope amid Natasha's despair. "That's why we have to prevent it. Once. Save him once. Then the flow will stop everywhere. Try harder. It's difficult," he urged.

 Natasha, still grappling with the pain of witnessing Steve's repeated deaths, couldn't help but express her frustration. "You don't understand," she began, but Dr. Strange interrupted with a solemn acknowledgment, "I do. I understand. You know what price I paid to hold this stone's responsibility?"

His eyes gestured toward the Time Stone, a tangible representation of the burdens he carried. "I've lost my love, many times. In many universes. This responsibility feels like a burden. But I'm ready to carry it as long as possible," he explained. Natasha, absorbing his words, was reminded of the weight that each guardian of the stones bore. Dr. Strange sighed, emphasizing the gravity of their roles, "You have to do this, Ms. Romanoff. For him."

Taking a deep breath, Natasha nodded, steeling herself for the task ahead. It was for Steve, and she understood the imperative nature of their mission. Dr. Strange, with a practiced motion, opened another portal, a gateway to the complexities of the multiverse. 

The ethereal glow of the portal beckoned Natasha forward, and she stepped through, determined to alter the course of fate and save Steve from the cruel repetitions of his tragic demise. 

In the cold and darkness, Natasha's senses slowly awakened. A chill ran through her body, and she instinctively tried to find warmth by squeezing herself. However, a cold surface met her bare shoulder, causing her initial confusion. Before she could react, a hand swiftly and tightly muffled her voice.

In the shadows, she struggled to see, but the familiarity of the voice that spoke to her sent a shiver down her spine. "Shhh. Are you trying to get us killed?" The words were spoken in a hushed tone, carrying a mix of urgency and caution. Natasha's eyes widened as the realization struck her. Despite the darkness, she recognized the voice – it was Steve.

Calming herself, Natasha whispered back, acknowledging the presence of the man who had silenced her. "Steve," she breathed out, the sound barely audible in the dim surroundings. Steve responded by placing a gentle finger on her lips, a silent signal for her to remain silent and still.