The Dark Witch: Fallen (Avengers Fanfic)

Chapter 8

Sleep came very little that night.

Or maybe I didn't sleep at all I wasn't sure.

I just remember staring at the ceiling.

And watching the white plaster peel away onto black skies and white stars.

It was cold. That's one thing I remembered.

Very cold.

There's a part of me that knows I shouldn't be here. I shouldn't be here at all.

Especially after losing my connection with the Tesseract.

The fact that I'm here should scare me.

And yet... I don't think I was afraid. Just more... relaxed, subdued, obedient.

Like I know what was there. Whatever it was. Inevitable. And I embraced it.

"You and I can hurt them."

That deep guttural voice from earlier is speaking. I can hear him as though he was right in front of me, yet there is nothing there. It was as though I was seeing but not seeing. Hearing but not hearing.

"But you will tear them apart,"

There was a flash.

Snapshots of images.

A dead man, a figure of metal, and two people--male and female.

My heart shot up and so did my body. I was violently ripped away from my dream and thrust into reality.

I desperately latch onto the last few moments of the dream, scrambling for answers before I lost it but only coming back with nothing but scraps.

I recognized that voice.

Ultron.

Red eyes.

White hair.

Snow White and his sister.

"Shit," Scrambling off the bed, I headed to my closet, throwing on something suitable to tell the others before my connection with them evaporates.

When I had successfully tamed my brown hair from its tangles, I practically skidded to the foyer and onto the loft.

"Yeah, if we weren't fucked earlier, we're fucked now!" I shout, not caring it my loud voice made the entire team look at me in disbelief.

I heard Steve let out a sharp inhale and ignored it.

Boxes were strewn everywhere and apparently, they had been digging through some stuff when I made an entrance.

Everybody was there, groggy and slightly confused from a night of action. It didn't help their mood when they saw me run up to them, all panicked.

"Widow, back away," I commanded, urging Natasha to leave as I took my seat in her now vacant chair.

Typing away at the computer, I ignored the team's piercing gazes and continued to manoeuver the twins unbalanced connection with me internally.

It was wavering, the threads slowly disconnecting and I bit my lip to contain a scream of frustration.

Just a bit longer come on.

"Blues, what'd you got?" Tony was the first to ask, having stood next to me.

Considering we had a fight last night, I could barely even think about that now.

I ignored his stare and continued to type, trying my best to remember what I saw from the vision. Or better yet, memories.

"Strucker's dead. The twins have joined Sir Tin-a-lot, and somehow I have this very vague connection with them."