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( woman out of time )
★
"WHERE IS SHE, Natasha?"
The Black Widow took a shuddering breath.
"Gone, Steve."
★
THE FIRST THING she noticed when her mind came too was the scratchy material she was lying under.
Pushing aside the flashing and frankly annoying red flags bursting in her mind, she tested her muscles and limbs, finding them all operational, except for the slight sting in her left shoulder from... something.
Why couldn't she remember?
Who was she?
An eye cracked open and immediately closed again. Another test of her eyes granted success, and the girl slowly used her right arm to prop herself up on the foreign, scratchy substance. A quick glance around the room proved useful― green walls were separated from white tiles with green ones. In front of her was another door, white with white walls and translucent windows.
A shooting migraine echoed through her skull―
A blonde man with a red, white, and blue shield― a redheaded, no, blonde woman with grace and deadliness like a spider― a flying man with more wit and faith that she knew― a conflicted man with long hair, a metal arm, out of his― their― time―
―a babbling man with soft sweaters and soft eyes― another blonde man who could summarize the history of the entire world in less than twenty minutes― a woman with a pixie cut who could break apart and reassemble any machine with flying hands―
―reassemble― assemble?―
The world went dark once more.
★
The Captain dropped his head.
Another one lost.
"Was it quick?"
★
There was someone in the room when Chloe came to a second time―
―Ah, Chloe. That's her name.
"Oh, good, you're awake."
Chloe's head slowly turned to find an older woman in a large green dress, with a white apron, and a white bonnet. Her hair was tightly secured in the hat, and worn hands suggested years of experience. The woman was carrying a tray filled with bottles and gadgets and gizmos familiar yet not at the same time.
