The Shadow // Natasha Romanoff x OC

Chapter 3 - Enjoy, Agent Coulson

Azara's pov

Waking up was a literal nightmare. Not just because I was kinda late to my breakfast slot and there were no hash browns left but because all I saw over and over and over was the crash.

Spinning through the air.

Heat seeping into my bones.

Flames encasing the car like a chrysalis, cocooning the now hollow shell.

But my nightmares always take a turn. Any nightmares I have do.

I never dissolved into the shadows, I never accidentally eavesdropped on Mr Stark and the God of Lightning. I never got tracked by SHIELD and taken to a flying airport run by a wannabe pirate.

Instead, I'm all alone. I can never find my dad: the fire's to much. The police take me home and return the next day to ask me some questions. I know nothing. We were singing. Maybe a tire blew out. Maybe... well, that's not my job to know the why.

But I'm alone. I have no one. I spend the next 12 weeks huddled on the sofa; eating the contents of the cupboard until they're bare. It took a while: I don't eat when I don't have to because it's a waste of money.

But then one day, I'm not alone. My dad comes home. He's skeletal - thin and hollow, pale and pained. All he does is point a finger to me and to a coffin. His coffin: the only reason I've left the house. His funeral. I didn't say a word, I didn't go the wake, I had no emotion. I was as hollow as him. He doesn't need to say anything: I've thought it all myself.

It's my fault. It's my fault we were even going to that stupid cabin. It's my fault I turned the radio on and he was distracted from the road. It's my fault I didn't pull him from the car.

It's my fault he's dead.

It's my fault I'm alive.

I wake with a start: my father's pale, accusing face still swimming in my eyes. He haunted me. He was my ghost.

After a quick shower and breakfast (as I said, there were no hash browns which put me in a even worse mood) an agent tells me to report to the bridge.

There're no maps in this place so I probably went the long way - down to my room and trying to follow the path Agent Romanoff practically sprinted along yesterday.

As I enter the bridge, Fury gestures for me to sit at the table. I keep my head down: it's the bridge after all, it's none of my business to let my eyes wander. As I sit down, Tony walks in and greets me with a wide smile.

"You alright kid? Looking a bit peaky?" He ask in a caring tone.

"Uh, yeah, I never sleep great," I reply, which isn't a total lie but definitely wasn't the full truth.

I wait a few minutes for the director to come over. In that time I manage to fully zone out, staring at the edge of the table in front of me; my hands draws into balls in my sleeves.

My father was there. His accusing eyes; his hollow face.

"Earth to Alarie! Earth to Alarie!" Tony waves his hands at me, trying to get my attention.