𝑻𝒓𝒂𝒑𝒅𝒐𝒐𝒓 ✘ 𝐍𝐀𝐓𝐀𝐒𝐇𝐀 𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐅𝐅

{6¹} {AFTER}

∆ {6¹} {AFTER} ∆

THE ONLY THING that Roxi had been able to hear for days, was that incessant beeping. It rose occasionally, when her agitation did, or when her mind flashed back to that day in Wakanda. She'd clocked what it was after a few hours of lying still; it was a heart rate monitor, and the plastic-y bed with the thin fabric cover was a hospital bed.

After what had happened, she didn't remember much, apart from her head becoming so full of noise and emotion and pain that she'd found herself leaning almost entirely on Natasha. She supposed she'd passed out. There had been a couple of times where a sharp pain in her chest had begun to build, but it had never lasted long, for whatever reason.

Her head felt awfully quiet now. Roxi's mind was never quiet, it never left her alone, and to be left in such a silence that even she herself wasn't breaking, was unnerving. Natasha hadn't seen her either, and Roxi wondered if it was because she wanted to give her time to deal with what had happened, at least to an extent where it wouldn't impact the people around her as harshly as it might. Or maybe, she was trying to contact Yelena, trying to figure out how to accept what had happened.

The two women had both seen their families shatter into dust before them, or in Roxi's case, in her hands. She felt a shudder shake her frame, as her mind forced the reminder of what it had felt like forwards. The way that one second, she'd been holding her sister as closely as she could, and the next, the warmth had vanished, the feeling of Wanda simply gone.

Natasha hadn't got that luxury. She'd called Yelena countless times, even when she was standing outside the room that Roxi was in, but the blonde assassin never picked up. The two women who had found solace in each other now had one more thing to relate on; they had both lost their sisters to titan that they could've done more to stop, at least in their own opinions.

As if sensing her train of thought, Natasha walked through the door, her face wet with tears, her fingers tugging the edge of her jumper sleeves - one that Roxi was fairly sure that Yelena had picked out for Natasha to give Roxi for her birthday. She'd actually worn it quite a lot on the run, but it looked better on Natasha anyway, and Roxi knew she needed the comfort.

Natasha sat down on the edge of the bed, her hand immediately finding Roxi's and her tears only thickening. Roxi sat up, ignoring the twinge of pain in her chest. She'd broken two of her ribs when she hit the tree in Wakanda, and they were still healing. It was Natasha who pulled her close, burying her face in Roxi's shoulder so that the tears soaked through Roxi's thin shirt. Without meaning to, Roxi began to cry as well.

But this wasn't one of those moments of peace. This was pure grief, painted over the scene in strokes so broad that it seemed impossible to have a positive outlook. They clung onto each other tightly, Natasha's knuckles white as she gripped onto Roxi's forearm, and yet the ice-eyed woman could barely feel it.

"You were right." The words came from the Russian's mouth fast, and barely distinguishable, but somehow Roxi, with her mind in its disturbing silence, still managed to work out what the woman had said, "It wasn't enough. We weren't enough." The words rang through Roxi's mind, and she forced herself not to comprehend the defeat behind the blonde's sentence.

Instead, she wondered. She wondered, if Natasha was taking this so hard - with fair reason-, how were other people taking it. She wondered how she herself would take it once the shock and disbelief had worn off.

She wondered if the trapdoor would slam down once again and rust shut, if maybe the oceans would roar into peaks far higher than even the ones that slammed against her skull now. She wondered if the sea would settle into a deadly calm, if she would become afraid of retreating into her own mind. She even wondered if the pains would get worse.