THE DEATH SEASON ▹ final avengers ✓

20 | the remaining

chapter xx of the death season :

" IT NEVER STOPS HURTING . "

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" We'll lose. "

" Then we'll do that together too. "

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february 8th, 2018

upstate new york

" YOU ARE MY SUNSHINE . "

"I have to know, I have to be sure...
that one day, you'll be ready."

"My only sunshine."

"Because maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow, but Lana, one day
you're going to lose me."

"You make me happy when skies are grey."

"You're going to have to let us go; your mother, me, everyone you know.
One day, you will be left behind."

"You'll never know, dear, how much I love you."

"I'm going to die before you, Svetka.
I can't have it any other way.
I won't live in a world without you, I won't.
So you need to be ready."

"Please..."

"Promise me, you won't let it change you.
You'll stay who you are."

"Don't take..."

"You'll stay good and pure and human.
Lana, promise me,
you won't let the darkness in."

"My sunshine..."

Svetlana Barnes gently rocks herself back and forth, her mind numb and her heart still beating wildly in her chest. A strange humming fills her ears, blocking out the sound of the shower running over her small form curled up on the dark tile floor. Steam rises up all around her and the skin on her back is a deep scarlet red, but she can't feel a thing.

Svet's blank morning eyes slowly roll up as she whispers the end of the song, "Away."

THE NEARLY SEVENTEEN YEAR OLD GIRL shivers as she struggles to dress herself, her wounds that just won't seem to heal splitting open and bleeding through her stitches. Biting back a wince, Svet gasps for air, her once broken and aching lungs struggling to give her oxygen. It's like she's forgotten how to breathe again.

"I could've helped you with that." A quiet voice speaks up from behind her, and Svet doesn't have to turn to know it's her mother.

"No..." The girl hisses as she pulls on a big black jacket over her still injured shoulder, "I am very used to cleaning wounds. Mine, in particular."

Natasha swallows hard against the lump in her throat, curling her arms around her aching stomach and letting out a low breath. Her tired gaze follows Svet's stoic movements around the bathroom, watching her usually bright and sunny girl move so stiffly and look so numb. She wishes she knew how to comfort her, how to stop it, how to reach her in the vicious darkness that Svet's on the verge of falling into. It's so familiar to Natasha, too familiar.