Chapter 82

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(y'all, fasten your seatbelts. We're revving off now.)


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"W-" I stutter, not being able to make my tongue comply in my dry mouth as I stare, incredulously, my brain completely short-circuiting.

"Cat got your tongue?" She smirks that annoying lopsided smirk of hers as she watches me like I am but a halfway decent comedy sketch someone has dragged her to see.

"What - are you..." I close my eyes for a second, wondering if this is my mind playing a trick on my sleep-deprived state and I've finally lost the plot. Either that or I've fallen asleep and this is an incredibly vivid dream. If so, well done brain.

"Full sentences, please. I can't read minds like your girlfriend."

"But - Nat..." I open my eyes again, Natasha still very much sitting on my couch, being very much not dead. Her hair is different -shorter, but other than that, she looks the same. Maybe a little more worn.

"Why are you so surprised at seeing me?" She takes in a deep inhale, looking around my embarrassing apartment, a disinterested look on her face as I can do nothing but stare.

"Because you-" I begin incredulously but she cuts me off, clearly not listening to me.

"I know we haven't seen each other in what? Like seven, eight years? Right? But you must've known that you and Wanda just disappearing like that-"

"Wait." I hold out a slightly trembling hand and Natasha's lips purse together at my interruption, but she stays silent, her eyebrows rising slightly on her forehead.

"I'm sorry; I think I might be hallucinating, at this point." I turn around with a nervous chuckle to face Darcy, who is standing slightly behind me, leaning against the wall with her arms crossed, a small smile on her face as she watches Natasha.

"What a lovely imagination you have, then." Darcy quips at me, her smile widening. "Natasha Romanoff and little old me in your apartment... lucky gal."


"No, stop," I shake my head, frowning, too tired to find her amusing. Darcy's smile grows even more. "You're not - this isn't weird to you at all?"
"Well, the people you run around with baffle me constantly, but I've learned to not question it too much."
"But she's-"


"She is right here and getting impatient." Natasha's voice sounds slightly irritated and I give Darcy another pleading look which she shrugs at, so I turn around to face Natasha again, alone in my bewilderment.

"It's not that I'm not happy to see you-"
"Well, I wasn't expecting a hug, but..." Natasha says, a smirk growing on her lips and I can't help my lips twitching in amusement.

"You're not dead." I blurt out and Natasha actually cannot help the look of surprise that flashes across her face at my words.

"Alright, Liv. You're perceptive." Darcy comments and I can imagine her rolling her eyes at me.

Natasha's eyes narrow as she watches me, smoothly getting off the couch and stepping closer to me. I swallow nervously, my mind racing about a million miles an hour without finding any reasonable explanation as to why Natasha Romanoff is standing two feet away from me, staring at me with an unamused expression on her face.

"Why would I be dead?" Natasha asks me, her voice low.

"I- you-" I stutter awkwardly, sneaking a glance at Darcy who just pulls a face.

"You're still mad about me besting you in training?" Natasha breaks out into a triumphant smile, giving me a wink and I huff.

"No."
"Right. Sore loser." Natasha pats me on the shoulder and takes a step around me. "Let's go."
"What?" I turn on my heels.

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