Elysium (Natasha Romanoff)

Eight

Natasha

She'd almost kissed me. And I'd almost let her. Hell I'd almost wanted her to.

What the actual fuck was wrong with me? Here I was going to a fair, having fun, almost making out with an incredibly attractive woman with perfect lips and deep soulful eyes and..

No! Snap out of it Natasha!

You're supposed to be finding a way out of here. Finding a way back to Yelena not crushing on a hot married demigod woman.

Laughter comes from the computer on my couch and I pick it up, staring at Yelena who is dancing with a pregnant brunette woman in a cozy kitchen as they cook. There'd been a live stream connected to her name and for the past four days I'd been watching my sister.

And her wife, Kate Bishop.

I hadn't seen that one coming. She'd never told me she was gay, but then again I'd never told her either. I'd never told her a lot of things that I should have and now I'll never be able to.

I'm still not sure when she had the time to get married or to get her wife pregnant. Not unless they were seeing each other before the blip and had come back together. Whatever the case may be, she looked happy and alive, and that's all that mattered to me.

I watch my sister kiss her wife with a tenderness that would have gotten her killed in the Red Room. Her hands caress her wife's stomach and she kneels down to kiss it, "how's my little Natasha?"

My heart nearly stops as I realize what she said. She's naming her baby, her daughter, after me?

Kate cups Yelena's face as she answers, "she's been kicking up a storm all day."

Yelena grins, "a little fighter, just like her mother."

Yelena stands back up and Kate asks, "how are you? I know today was hard for you, with the anniversary of your sisters death."

What did she mean the anniversary of my death? I haven't been dead that long have I?

I watch Yelena lean against the counter and cross her arms, "Barton was at her grave."

"Were you civil to him?"

"He left alive if that's what you mean," Yelena says.

Kate sighs, "Lenny, it's been five years. You have to forgive him eventually."

Wait.. five years? I've been dead for five years? No.. that's- that's impossible. I've been here for four days not five years.

I don't hear anything else they say as my mind starts reeling. Is that why there weren't any other live streams except Yelena's? Had everyone else moved on and forgotten about me? No, Kate said that Clint was at my grave so clearly he still remembers me. So why can't I see him? Why can I only see Yelena?

Is it because she's my sister? If that was the case then I would be able to see Melina and Alexi too right?

I click off of my sisters live stream and search for my adoptive parents names, finding them a few pages down and clicking on them, but there was no live stream. There wasn't much of anything on them.

Frustrated, I slam the laptop closed and toss it aside. This was all too much. This place, today, Elias. It was all too much. My feelings and emotions were starting to overwhelm me and I needed to not feel. I needed to focus on something else.

My eyes land on the door to the basement. Elias had said that it would turn into whatever I needed. Pushing myself from the couch and towards the door, I rip it open and nearly run down the steps, praying for a gym or even a gun range. But as I get to the bottom and flick on the light, a wall of mirrors greets me.

Of course it would be a ballet studio.

A wall of mirrors stands in front of me, a waist high bar running the length of them. To the left is a row of lockers with a bench in front of them. Under the stairs is a stereo with a stack of cds and records, a trail of cords leading from it to several speakers around the room.

Going over the lockers, I open one to find it full of ballet shoes. The next one is full of skintight shirts and the third is full of tights. The fourth, not so surprisingly, is full of first aid supplies. Whatever was in charge of this really thought of everything, especially since I've been known to split the skin on my feet while dancing.

Going back to the first locker I pull out a pair of shoes and break them in before I strip out of my baggy clothes. While I was tempted to put on the tights and shirt to somewhat protect my skin from the floor, I decide against it, leaving me in just my sports bra and tight boxers that resemble shorts more then they do underwear.

Once my shoes are broken in and tied tightly, I make my over to the stereo and flip through the music before finally just picking a random one and putting it on.

I do stretches for the first song, not wanting to cramp while I was dancing. Although if everything went how I was hoping, I wouldn't even feel it if I did.

When the second song starts, I'm ready. I start slow, going through the motions of each position until I'm twirling and leaping at random. Madam B would hate this, hate that I wasn't being disciplined in my dancing. But right now, I didn't want to be disciplined, I needed to get out all of my emotions and swirling questions.

So I danced until I couldn't think.

I danced for hours, jumping, spinning, throwing myself to the floor, until it felt like my muscles would give out. I danced long after my feet started to bleed and my clothes were soaked in sweat. Until all the thoughts and feelings left my body.

The more I danced, the more everything faded until eventually there was nothing.