Alivana woke up from a dreamless sleep to her parents who had kind, encouraging smiles on their faces. She lightly groaned as she tried to sit up but her aching muscles wouldn't easy oblige. Clint took note of this, tucking his arms under his daughter's helping her sit up against the pillow.
Clint wiped the reddish-white locks from her face holding a cup of water to her dry cracked lips as she took small sips. Once she was done she leaned back from the cup, indicating that she was done.
She didn't have enough strength to speak, fatigue and exhaustion from the past nearly half a decade catching up with her. She was home, with her parents now. She wasn't in a rush for anything else.
She noticed that her mother was tracing over her hands, with an unreadable expression on her face. Alivana soon matched it to longing, or regret. The only thing that her parents could seem to regret from her hands would be her abilities. The gift, and the curse. Alivana swallowed a sob, they must know.
She tried whispered softly, ignoring the scratchy protest from her throat as the foreign words rolled off her tongue. It felt strange to speak words that would have been, should have been part of her normal life. But she wasn't normal, and she wouldn't ever be. HYDRA made sure of that.
She felt dirty, this indescribable feeling of dirty with the serum coursing through her veins along with blood. She felt dirty as she glanced over her arms and legs, imagining the red and pink marks that must be hiding behind the white bandages as a constant proof, a constant reminder of the darkest time in her life.
She mustered some energy trying to speak in what only came out as a very quiet whisper, "I'm sorry."
Two heads turned to her and Alivana noticed the heavy bags and the tear-streaked faces. Even though it wasn't her fault, she felt guilty for all of this. She felt guilty for being weak, for letting them hurt her. She wondered how many times her parents cried. She knew they cried and mourned because they were the only two people in the world who truly loved her.
Natasha clasped her hands over hers, pressing a soft kiss on them. "For what baby?" Clint who looked like he was going to start crying any second shook his head as he wiped tears of her own that she didn't realize were falling. She gestured to her hands, unable to say the words she wanted to say. Her Papa wrapped his strong arms around her and she leaned into his warmth, trying to recall a memory where she felt that warm ever before. She couldn't.
Clint pressed a kiss on the top of her head speaking, "It's not your fault sweetheart. It's not. Those people hurt you, it's not your fault. We love you, you know that. None of this is your fault, it's theirs."
Alivana leaned into her Papa's shoulder nodding her head slightly, "Okay. I love you too."
They were the strongest people she knew too, and she wanted to be like them. But this, being hurt over and over and over without being able to do anything, it made her feel powerless, vulnerable. Like she was at the hands of death. And she was.
And life continued on like this for a few months. She slowly got accustomed to being normal, or as normal as one who went through the horrors she had could. Her parents were equally gentle, loving, and encouraging.
She began to be able to walk on her own a few steps but hey, it was progress. She began to be able to eat whole foods on her own. And she became hungry. She remembered the twinkling in her parents' eyes, and the pure smiles of them when she told them that she was hungry for the first time in over half a decade.
She was getting better. A part of her felt whole once again.
Her Papa promised that they would give her some training.
The only thing that remained the same was the nightmares and panic attacks. She couldn't alone, let alone at all. It was the darkness, and the constant looming threat that she would be taken again. And the dark was scary. All the scary things happened in the dark.
And her parents were understanding, and more than willing to snuggle with her under the covers. She felt better than she had in years.
But the darkness never sleeps. If anything it hides, only to emerge stronger.
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The Stars We Dream Of | A. Romanoff-Barton
Fanfic[COMPLETED- UNDER EDITING-REWRITING] ***************** Book One of The Stars Series Book One of The Misfits Series *Both series owned by me "We are misfits, we aren't born to fit in, we are born to stand out." Natasha Romanoff and Clint Barton are m...
