The Pasts

Chapter 18

The rain starts to pick up, pattering softly against the sleek black SUV as it rolls through the quiet streets. The setting sun casts a golden hue over everything, the remnants of the summer heat mingling with the fresh scent of rain, making the air warm and humid. The windows fog slightly from the inside, and you find yourself staring out at the blurry landscape, lost in your own thoughts.

Natasha is in the front passenger seat, her body language calm and composed, though you know better. Every so often, she glances back at you, concern flickering in her eyes, but she doesn't say anything. You don't notice her soft looks, but Yelena does.

Yelena sits beside you in the back seat, her sharp eyes bouncing between you, Natasha, and the road. She shifts slightly, her trademark smirk pulling at her lips. "You know," Yelena says, breaking the silence with her usual playful tone, "if you keep staring out the window like that, you're going to miss Natasha's 'I'm in love with you and freaking out in silence' glances."

Natasha turns around, shooting her sister a warning glare. "Yelena," she says sternly, but there's a faint softness underneath, as if she's used to Yelena's teasing and won't fully reprimand her.

You blink, tearing your gaze from the window. "Sorry, just...thinking."

Yelena raises an eyebrow, leaning back in her seat. "Thinking, huh? Dangerous game. Just don't let it distract you from the mission. Not all of us have black widow reflexes to save your butt."

Natasha's lips press into a thin line, and she reaches back, placing her hand on your knee for a brief moment, squeezing gently. "You good, sweetheart?" she asks softly, her green eyes searching yours with quiet intensity. You know her well enough to see the underlying concern, her love and protectiveness always bubbling close to the surface.

You nod, offering a small smile. "Yeah, I'm good."

Before Natasha can say anything else, Bucky speaks up from the driver's seat, his voice calm but focused. "We're almost at the target. ETA five minutes. Everyone ready?"

Yelena sighs dramatically, stretching her arms out. "Yeah, yeah, let's get this over with. Gotta plant the hackers, smash a few bad guys, and be home in time for whatever passes as dinner at the safe house."

Natasha ignores Yelena's sarcasm, her hand sliding away from your knee as she shifts in her seat, preparing for the mission. The tension is rising, but you're all used to it. It's the nature of what you do, and you're good at it.

The mission is simple—get in, plant the hacking devices in the control room, and get out. But it's never really simple, is it?

As the SUV approaches a stop sign at the intersection near a bridge, Bucky slows the car, preparing to turn. The rain picks up, the windshield wipers swishing back and forth rhythmically. Natasha's fingers drum lightly on the dashboard, her eyes scanning the darkening street ahead.

Suddenly, without warning, there's a deafening crash. The SUV jerks violently to the side, the sound of metal crumpling and glass shattering fills the air as a black vehicle slams into you from the side.

The world spins, everything blurs together—metal screeching, the thud of your body being tossed in the seat, the deafening impact as the SUV flips.

Your head hits the window, hard. You feel the sharp sting of pain as your vision blurs, the world turning upside down as the car rolls and crashes into the side of the bridge with a sickening crunch. The vehicle comes to a screeching halt, hanging precariously over the edge, the metal groaning under the weight of the crash.

For a moment, everything is still. All you hear is the faint crackling of fire and the rain beating down against the twisted metal. The sharp scent of gasoline fills the air, mixing with the acrid smell of smoke.