𝑻𝒓𝒂𝒑𝒅𝒐𝒐𝒓 ✘ 𝐍𝐀𝐓𝐀𝐒𝐇𝐀 𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐅𝐅

{5⁷} {LIVES}

∆ {5⁷} {LIVES} ∆

"YOU HUGGED RHODEY," Roxi commented as she and Natasha walked to the room that they were meeting the others in, neither of the women feeling quite secure enough yet to let go of the other's hand, "That's progress."

"Yeah, I don't really know why. It just felt.. Right," Natasha replied, a small smile on her lips. It was getting easier for her to be closer to people, to be more comfortable around them. Even if it was only because she forced herself to be, it still helped. Roxi didn't say anything further, and instead just interlocked her fingers with Natasha's, smiling gently at the now-blonde with as much comfort as she could manage with this newfound threat dragging her mood - and hope - down. She wanted to forget the dread that she'd whispered to Natasha about, too afraid that if she raised her voice much louder that there would be no way of avoiding it. But simultaneously, maybe the threat she'd imposed on herself of such a dark future would inspire her to fight harder.

The wicked part of her that caused those pains in her head seemed to have sensed the divisions of her mind, because as they quietly slipped into the briefing room where the rest of the team - were they really the Avengers anymore? - had moved, a splitting ache pounded against her skull.

Rhodey noticed their appearance a few seconds later, clearly having been focused on the hologram that had been projected into the air before him - the blue-haired feminine alien from the train station and her counterpart, who was stood over Vision's injured form on the ground - and murmured a few jumbled words before clearing his throat and starting again.

"So, we gotta assume they're coming back, right?" Roxi dared to let her fingers detach from Natasha's for a few seconds to pour herself some water that Tony had had put in all over the compound once he'd realised quite how frequent that her headache were, and that it wasn't practical to have to walk from the training room to the other end of the Compound - the kitchen - for a drink. The cold drink cleared her mind a little, but she quickly took Natasha's hand again, searching for a certain kind of warmth that only the blonde could cause.

"And they can clearly find us," Wanda added swiftly, clearly committed to the cause, though her eyes were solely trained on Roxi. After all these years, she knew when something was wrong with the woman who'd become her mentor - even like an older sister. Roxi rarely drank water - she normally drank cranberry juice, for some odd reason-, and in fact, the only times that Wanda had seen her drinking it was when she'd never seemed fully focused on anything. Her eyes had always been clouded, or her movements stiff, her words slightly clipped or faster than normal. And Wanda could always feel that pain that she'd had a taste of at the shipyard three years ago, she could always sense that it was there, and she loathed that she could do nothing about it.

"We need all hands on deck," Bruce followed up, not leaving a moment where the air was still and silent, "Where's Clint?" It was Natasha who replied, sitting on the edge of a table next to Roxi, who was still quietly taking small sips of her water, her voice stiff but not without care. She missed her friend, and almost everyone in the room would be able to tell you that.

"After the whole Accords situation, he and Scott took a deal. It was too tough on their families, they're on house arrest."

"Who's Scott? And while we're at it, when did she become Roxi?" Bruce had no malintent with his words, but when Natasha shot a quick glance at the woman next to her, whose hand had stilled where it was lifting it to her mouth. She had written that letter for a reason, and that was to display that she was ready to progress, to show trust, to leave her past behind. And now here was a fragment of her past, a man who she had not seen in three years, and was never close with, using her name, the one thing she'd guarded so fiercely almost all of her life. She'd been too caught up in her own head to really notice it earlier, but now it felt exploitative and as though Bruce was trying to kick her while she was down.